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spartanguard · 5 years

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sick of love (3/3)

Summary: If Emma’s not careful, she just might bump into her soulmate. Physically. And while she might like the idea of what comes with that—an almost psychic connection whenever they make skin contact—she’d rather not deal with the awful withdrawal sickness that can come when they inevitably leave her; she’s got a son, so she doesn’t have time for that. So she keeps herself covered and thinks she’ll be okay. Until she meets Killian, who does the same thing. Will their barriers protect them, or just hurt them more?

A/N: LAST CHAPTER AH. I meant to have this done sooner, but I didn’t get much writing done at camp—so here we are on Friday! It ended up much longer than anticipated, but this is where it earns the M rating. I hope this was worth the wait, and thank you for sticking with it!

As stated before, this story was inspired by this tumblr post. Thank you again to the organizers of @cssns for putting on this awesome event and to @sherlockianwhovian for making that AMAZING art up there!

Wrong.

So fucking wrong.

More wrong than any other time in her life.

That first night after the collision on the train, she got drunk on Sam Adams and blamed that on why the barrage of text messages from Killian mysteriously disappeared from her phone.

By Thursday, Henry had asked why they hadn’t yet had dinner with Killian that week. “Because you have school now, mister,” worked as an excuse.

And thankfully, she managed to hide her sigh of relief when Killian wasn’t at dinner at the Nolans, supposedly because he was called into work.

Halfway through the next week, Henry asked if they had a fight or something. “Yeah, or something,” was her lame, mumbled response. “It’s an adult thing.”

That was enough to get him to stop asking questions, though he had plenty of comments after the following Friday’s dinner—she decided that would be the best time to track her latest skip and dropped Henry off to stay with Snow and Dave for the night, and her resolve hardened when she saw the Chevelle in the driveway.

“You know, Killian seemed kind of mopey,” Henry told her when she picked him up the next morning. “Kind of like he did when we first met him.”

“He just gets like that sometimes; maybe it was something at work.”

“Maybe; I dunno. It seemed different. He says hi, though.”

He’d said more than that in the texts she kept deleting. Though those were usually something along the lines of Please, Swan—just talk to me.

What she wouldn’t admit was how much those broke her heart.

She wanted to; she really did. She missed him, dammit. But that would mean acknowledging whatever had passed between them as something real, that the whole idea actually had merit, and she wasn’t ready for that level of anything yet. She wasn’t even ready to kiss him, for fuck’s sake; even the title “boyfriend” held more weight than she was ready to carry.

And part of her still was in denial, sure that she’d imagined it because of that little romantic part of her that wanted something more.

She’d learned long ago to ignore that small voice, and she could shut it up again.

She didn’t do soulmates.

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A couple more weeks went by and fall arrived—her favorite. She wrapped up in a scarf on that first day, inhaling the chill in the air and making sure to stop for a pumpkin spice latte. Part of her wondered what kind of scarf Killian was wearing, if he even had one on—and then the rest of her put that idea to rest.

His texts became more sporadic; she never saw him on the train. He hadn’t been at Snow and David’s the last couple weeks and apparently had been stuck on the night shift for the last month. She was getting better at not thinking about him, but her mind generally wandered in his direction without her realizing it had.

There was a near run-in a week ago at the Chinese place; she saw his name on the receipt of the bag next to hers, and never paid so quick in her life. But otherwise, she’d been Killian-free for a month and was feeling just fine.

See? Nothing to worry about, she assured herself. Maybe in a couple more weeks, she could seek him out again, apologize, and they could carry on like that scare never happened.

But that thought got delayed when she came down with a cold a few days later.

She had a headache that wouldn’t go away and was tired a lot more than usual. The kitchen lights seemed especially harsh and there was a lingering bit of nausea that never quite sent her running for the toilet, but was definitely annoying.

“Are you feeling okay, Henry?” she’d ask every day, checking for a fever and his skin for any clamminess. She just needed to touch him, to make sure he was okay; or maybe she was being clingy because he had just started middle school.

“I’m fine, Mom,” he’d say, shrugging her off. “Are you?”

“Yeah, totally.”

Part of her wondered, when the nausea continued for a week without abating, if she was somehow pregnant again. It felt a lot like the early stages. But immaculate conception had only happened once, to her knowledge, so she had probably just picked up the flu somewhere.

She tried to power through it—even going on desk duty at her bail bonds firm (which she rarely, if ever did), but then her hands started cramping up from all the typing and kind of stayed that way. And good lord, that was terrible coffee in there, but she was so parched that she’d take it. She complained about it to Snow, who gave her a sidelong glance that fell somewhere between pitying and knowing, but amazingly gave no lecture. She just gave her a box of rose-flavored tea and a hug.

It wasn’t the first time she’d been sick in Henry’s lifetime—no one had that good an immune system—but she felt terrible that it was putting her so out of commission (in addition to, you know, feeling terrible).

“What kind of flu did you give me, kid?” she asked, voice hoarse, when Henry brought her tea in bed on her birthday.

“Maybe it’s something worse, Mom,” he said, and she could see how scared he was. “Maybe you should go to the ER?”

Cold dread washed over her at the mention of the place (or maybe it was just a chill resulting from the recently developed fever; it was hard to tell). “No; I’m not that bad,” she promised, despite how awful she sounded. “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll go to urgent care.”

There was one on their block, but she didn’t even have the energy to walk that far. Just getting to her car was draining. Her hand struggled to cooperate with the pen while filling out forms, which included firmly checking the “no” box next to the question asking if she had lovesickness. She had the flu—that was it.

(Not that lovesickness had any true treatment; even at hospitals, all they could do was put a person on an IV of fluids and pain killers until it was done. So there was really no point in an urgent care even asking. Jerks.)

The doctor asked the usual questions—symptoms, how long she’d had them, and a whole bunch of other stuff that was already on the forms—before actually reading what was on the clipboard, squinting, then looking up at her skeptically. “Are you sure you don’t have lovesickness?”

“Positive,” she snapped back.

He gave her another incredulous look, shook his head, and wrote her a prescription for a generic antibiotic—which was all she needed, she was sure, and not the judgment of some two-bit doctor with bleached hair.

She felt better the next morning, after medicine and rest; good enough to go to work, so she started to get ready. See—she’d been right! It was just a bug. Nothing crazy or earth-shattering, just a run-of-the-mill thing.

Or, at least, that was her last thought before the world turned on it’s axis and she passed out on her bed.

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“Emma, are you sure I can’t take you to the hospital? You passed out, for crying out loud!” She could always count on David’s brotherly instincts to border on paternal.

“I’ll be fine; I promise. I just need to ride it out some more.”

David huffed, clearly not pleased with the situation. She wasn’t thrilled with it, either, but she wasn’t fit to be Henry’s mom until this thing had ran its course, or the antibiotics stopped making her dizzy—whichever came first. Henry was the one who found her unconscious, though she roused quickly; but it shook him enough that she didn’t want him around while she was still this sick. She’d never forgive herself if she got him sick, too.

“And you’re sure it’s just a bug?”

“Yes! Oh my god,” she rasped out, though it didn’t sound as convincing with her weakened voice. “Go! Have fun! Make sure he gets to school on time, does his homework, et cetera.”

David sighed again, but she could tell from the slump of his shoulders that he’d relented. “Alright; but make yourself some tea and get some rest. We’ll check in on you—no complaints. And if you don’t answer your phone, we’re coming to get you.”

“Fine,” she huffed; that was fair. Henry shuffled out from his room then, with an overstuffed duffel. For a moment, it reminded her of being a kid and her entire life fitting in one of those as she was moved from home to home; her eyes watered at the memory, but she—and Henry—knew he had a home to come back to; this was temporary. “Be good for your aunt and uncle,” she told him, and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead (which seemed a lot closer to chin than it had the day before).

“I will. Please get better soon, Mom,” he said, worry in his voice and his big brown eyes.

“I will. I promise.”

She couldn’t get worse, right?

Why did she keep saying that? Famous last words, no doubt.

Because she’d hardly settled on the couch after they left before another wave of vertigo struck and she nearly spilled her tea (of course, Snow had sent another box over). Though it might not have been that bad if she had, because she was also feeling awfully chilled, despite having two fleece blankets draped over her. (If she just gave it an hour, she’d be dealing with a manic hot flash instead.)

But this was better, she knew—Henry would be looked after and she’d be able to heal without anyone bothering her. And it was kind of nice having the apartment to herself for a couple days; that didn’t happen often.

It got dull fast, though. And quiet, oddly enough, even though she was able to watch whatever she wanted on Netflix (Henry hated Outlander; she didn’t).

It was...lonely. Again. Possibly more than ever in her life. It was one thing to not have anyone, like she had when she was a kid. But now that she had people—David, Snow, Henry...Killian, she had to admit—the solitude felt bigger without them there.

And, really, she had no one to blame but herself there. Old habits die hard and all that. As much as she tried to tell herself it was better if they weren’t around her germs, she could also really go for a hug right about now; wrapping her arms around herself didn’t quite cut it.

But this was her bed (well, nest of blankets on the couch) and she had to lay in it until this all passed. At least she had Jamie and Claire to distract her.

So she pulled the blankets a little tighter around her and settled in.

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The next few days passed in a haze of tea, takeout, and the Scottish highlands, though she had to rewatch multiple episodes due to her worsening state and the fact that she kept passing out in the middle (always right before the good stuff, annoyingly). She managed to reply to all of David’s messages fast enough to not cause worry on his end, but that was almost all she had energy for. Bless whoever came up with Door Dash.

And she wasn’t just tired in general—she was tired of being sick. How much longer could one body take to fight off...whatever this was? It had been nearly 6 weeks, all told. The antibiotic script ran out without taking the illness with it. The tea helped a bit, but getting as far as the kitchen to make it was a challenge with the nausea, vertigo, and tunnel vision she was fighting against.

Thank goodness she had an escape on the TV.

(There were a few strange instances, though, where her foggy mind twisted Jamie’s Scottish brogue into Killian’s accent; and damn did their blue eyes look similar, even if the rest of them didn’t. She may have had a couple of vivid dreams along that line, though.)

But then Jamie and Claire both got lovesickness in season 3. And art started imitating life a bit too much for her liking.

Annoyed, she turned off the TV and pulled herself up from couch so she could shuffle into the kitchen and get more tea.

Fucking Outlander. Fucking sassenach. Fucking soulmates. Fucking lovesickness. Fucking Killian.

Not that kind of fucking, though.

Wait, why did her train of thought go there?

Trains...soulmates...lovesick...Killian.

Dammit.

She shook her head as she plopped down on the floor of her kitchen, still wrapped in blankets while waiting on the tea kettle. That was probably a burned bridge, if she was being honest. She hadn’t heard from him in at least two days, so she had to assume he’d given up; it wouldn’t be the first time someone did that to her, but it was probably the most deserved. Try as she might, she still hadn’t forgotten what happened on the train, and she still had no logical explanation for it...save for one.

The kettle was starting to hiss but she ignored it. Had she overreacted? In an effort to avoid what she’d feared for so long, had her own stubbornness and walls just pushed her right into it? Was she really in the same position she’d just seen on her screen...was she lovesick?

A knock on the door jolted her from her thoughts, though; it was probably the pizza delivery. She wasn’t even really sure why she’d picked that to order, though it probably had something to do with Killian being on her mind. It took some struggle to pull herself up off the floor, her stiff muscles protesting each movement, but she managed to get upright with only a minor amount of vertigo; maybe she was getting better, after all?

There was another knock. “I’m coming,” she tried to shout, but her voice could only go so loud. As fast as she could manage—which wasn’t very—she limped to the door, brushed her hair behind her ears in a weak attempt at looking presentable, unlatched the lock, and opened it.

But she wasn’t greeted by the smell of dough and melted cheese, or by an annoying teenage delivery boy—no, that was taking its sweet time, as usual. Her heart actually stopped for a brief moment, because on the other side of the door was Killian.

And he looked as awful as she felt.

“Emma,” he breathed, a faint smile pulling at his weary features, but it faded fast as a cough took over and nearly rattled him off the door frame he was leaning on.

“Killian.” She nearly choked on his name. “How...how did you find my address?” They’d somehow never been to each other’s places.

“David,” he answered. Normally, he would have shrugged, but it probably hurt too much right now. Like her, he had dark circles under his eyes and sheen of sweat on his forehead that his hair was clinging to. He had on a pair of scrub pants and a black sweater under his usual leather jacket, under which his chest was heaving after no doubt climbing the three flights of stairs to her apartment. Oddly, he didn’t have his prosthesis on. “Can we please talk, finally?”

Even the blue of his eyes was faded, and that was probably what broke her the most. She nodded and stepped aside, leaving a wide path for him to come in.

He stumbled in and she pointed him towards the couch. “Tea?” she offered, trying to be a good hostess.

“Yeah,” he sighed as he fell against the cushions.

As she poured the tea, she didn’t let herself think of the implications of him being as sick as her. Her walls started to go up and she began to rationalize—he probably picked it up at work; god only knows what kind of stuff he was exposed to there. Maybe she’d gotten it from him when they had their collision?

Very carefully, she moved into the living room and set his mug down on the coffee table, before gently sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. “So, you pick up a nasty virus in the ER?” she started, then took a sip.

He cast her an almost annoyed look before reaching for his cup. “I think we both know that’s not the case, love.”

“You don’t know that,” she murmured. “It could be anything.”

He took a sip, then stared at the tea in disbelief as he swallowed. “Where did you get this?”

Now she was the one confused. “Snow; why?”

He snorted derisively. “And it makes you feel better, right?”

“A bit, I guess.”

“Emma, don’t you know what rose tea is for?”

What the heck—did he come over just to fight? She’d understand if he was angry about her ghosting him, but to be so combative? Her hackles were rising. “No, I don’t, Doctor Jones; enlighten me.”

He cautiously set down the mug and then scooted a bit closer to her; she reflexively tried to melt into the arm of the couch. “It’s an old wives’ tale, but said to ease lovesickness.”

She shut her eyes and turned her head. That couldn’t be it—it just couldn’t. Whatever personal revelation she’d been having before his arrival had ran away, buried under her blankets and armor where it belonged.

She didn’t do soulmates...right?

“You can deny the truth, love, but that won’t make it any less real. And like you just said, I’m a doctor—I know what’s going on. Has anything else helped?”

Not opening her eyes, she shook her head. She didn’t know if she could handle whatever emotion was likely simmering in Killian’s gaze.

“Just what do you think happened on the train that day?” he asked softly, though it didn’t sound like he had another volume.

“I don’t know—maybe we said it under our breath,” she tossed out half-heartedly.

“That’s not true and you know it.”

She opened her eyes to glare at him. “Well, what if I don’t want it? What if I don’t want the universe telling me who’s right for me—what if I want to be chosen instead?”

Despite their dulled color, a spark of fire ignited in Killian’s eyes. “What are you calling the past few months, then?” he spat. “I don’t know about you, but those were some of the happiest of my life, and it was all because of you and Henry. I want to be chosen, too—you know that. But you can’t tell me you’re so dense that you didn’t notice us doing exactly that. And you can’t deny you’ve been happy, too; you’re too much of an open book.”

He had her there—it was impossible for her to refute it. Even now, despite the distance she was trying to keep between them, she could feel the pull towards him—she’d missed him so much. But was it just because something was pulling strings somewhere out in the cosmos? Could she trust her own feelings?

“Tell me, love: were soulmates not even a thing, would you hesitate like this?”

That took her by surprise—but then again, everything about Killian had, since the day they met. She couldn’t deny the thoughts and fantasies she’d had about him; those were decidedly romantic in nature. But in her decision to rebel against the entire system, she’d never considered a scenario in which it didn’t exist. There were plenty of people out there who fell in love without it and were happy, but given what she thought she’d had with Neal, she figured it’d be all or nothing for her.

The longer she thought about it, though, her answer became clear: “No, I wouldn’t.”

Cautiously, he smiled, and it looked like he was blinking back tears—but that could have been due to her own fuzzy vision, and she wasn’t sure if it had to do with her emotions or current physical state. “Then why fight it?”

“Because,” she said in a small voice. “What if it’s wrong?”

“Darling, I think we’re well past that.”

She was scraping for excuses now, she knew, and could feel her walls crumbling under his sweet gaze. They weren’t gone yet, though. “What about Milah?”

His brow furrowed. “What about her?”

“I thought you didn’t want anyone else.”

He slumped a bit, but she couldn't tell if that was due to physical or emotional duress; probably both. “Aye, I had thought for a long time that I didn’t want anyone else, that I’d never be capable of letting go of my first love, of finding someone else.” He chewed on his bottom lip and then looked up at her. “That is, until I met you.”

Her breath hitched. There was no going back from a confession like that.

Silence settled over them for a long minute, during which the revelation washed over her. He wanted her—and had for a while, before they made skin contact and ended up here. And the more she reflected on it, she wanted him, too.

She wanted...all of it. Soulmates, happily ever after, the whole shebang.

Oh, who was she kidding? She fucking loved him.

But she was terrible with words—sincere ones, at least. How did she tell him that?

Gingerly, she shifted closer to him; he flinched a little, likely out of the same reflexes she’d honed over the years, but didn’t back away. His right arm was closest to her, and though he was still wearing his jacket, his hand was uncovered. It was a handsome hand, she had to admit—long, graceful fingers, with well-trimmed nails and fine dusting of dark hair on the back. She wondered if the rest of his was just as good-looking. And now, she was determined to find out.

She reached out and tentatively touched the back of his hand; there was an immediate spark at the contact, though, and she pulled back quickly in shock.

Killian’s eyes grew wide and he stared at his hand for what felt like forever; time seemed to freeze around them. But then, slowly, he turned up his palm and looked at her with an encouraging nod and a soft smile.

Emma sat up straighter, as if that would somehow firm her resolve, and took a deep breath. She could do this, totally. (She hoped.)

With a bit more confidence, she again reached for him, and this time, wrapped her delicate fingers around his broad hand. There was still a jolt, but she was ready for it and held tighter instead of retreating. It was immediately followed that same surge of emotion she’d felt on the train: concern, a bit of fear, but most of all—love.

Though she had no idea how this thing worked, she gave it a try. «I love you,» she thought, intensely holding Killian’s stare.

His eyes somehow got even bigger and his mouth parted in surprise, but it only lasted a moment before he was grinning. «I love you, too, Emma.»

Okay, now she really was crying. She never thought she was that kind of sappy girl and usually made sure her tears were reserved for moments that deserved them (Henry’s birth, Snow and Dave’s wedding, and maybe a handful of TV episodes since then). But now? When she was staring at her apparent true love, once she stopped fighting it? All the waterworks.

«Come here,» she heard over their connection, and he pulled her tight to him—though she may have also launched herself at him at the same time, resulting in an audible oof from both of them as they collided against the cushions.

She nestled her head into the crook of his neck and breathed him in. He smelled faintly of rose tea, a lot like sweat, and then, just...Killian. She couldn’t describe it—it was just...him. And it felt like home.

«You smell good, too.»

She winced. «Oh, shit. You weren’t supposed to hear that.»

«You were thinking it rather loudly, love.»

«This is definitely going to take some getting used to.»

«Aye, but I’m up for the challenge if you are.»

«Definitely.»

She sat up, breaking the connection—and found herself immediately missing it. She hadn’t expected that. As soon as skin contact had been broken, her aches and pains began to come back; she hadn’t even noticed they were gone. But that was how it worked, right? The more intense the lovesickness, the longer it took to go away, even when you reconnected.

She was probably going to have to get him naked, wasn’t she?

While the idea of that, and seeing what hid under all those form-fitting layers, was more than appealing, it also made her panic. It’d been so long since she did anything like this; god, did she even remember how to kiss?

Killian had been watching her intently and must have noticed the panic creeping across her face. Cautiously—as if he was approaching a wild animal—he reached up and caressed her cheek. «It’s okay, Emma. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.»

She huffed. «I don’t even know what I want. It’s been so long; I’m rusty with this stuff.»

«Well, that’s convenient.» He gave her a gentle smile. «So am I.»

She took a deep breath and relaxed a bit, but there was still an urge to do—something. It itched under her skin, the desire to be close to him, especially after he let his hand fall away.

So, slowly, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

There was no hesitation on his end; his lips were firm and insistent against hers, and warm—so warm. Any lingering chill from lovesickness melted away at the brush of his soft lips and the feel of his solid form next to her. Which, if she was being honest, was too far away. Using more energy than she had in weeks, she shirked her blankets and moved to straddle his lap. He groaned at the movement, but made no effort to pull away or stop what they were doing. And really, it gave her a bit of a self-satisfied thrill that she could draw that reaction from someone; guess she did still have a bit of game.

«You have plenty of “game,” love—I assure you,» he told her as his tongue flicked against their pressed-together lips.

«Okay, that was a little weird,» she thought; talking and kissing at the same time would definitely take some getting used to.

«Good weird, I hope.»

«Duh.»

They continued to snog like teenagers on the couch, just like she’d once imagined, until the pizza delivery actually did show up. She pulled away to catch her breath, but left her forehead connected to his. «Hope you feel like Pizzeria Regina.»

«With you, darling—anything. Actually, I’m famished.»

«Who knew making out worked up such an appetite?»

He chuckled out loud and it seemed to reverberate through her entire body; that was something that bore revisiting. But she was starving, too, so she hopped up to get the door before the kid inevitably left.

In the few minutes it took her to pay and get plates from the kitchen, she could feel the lovesickness settle back in at an almost alarming rate. She thought it was just the lingering fatigue, but she must have turned to fast after getting dishes from her cupboard because the next thing she knew, the world was spinning and she was on the floor. The nausea was back full-force and food was the last thing she wanted to think about; all she wanted was—“Killian,” she called out, but it was more of a weak moan than a yell.

From her prone position where the living room carpet met the kitchen tile, she could see him hop up from the couch, alarm tensing his entire body. “Emma!” he shouted, voice similarly weak, and took long strides to get to her—but she could see the moment it hit him, too, when he had to grab for the back of the couch to stay upright.

He took a deep breath but then fell to the floor, seemingly intentionally but she couldn’t quite tell—her vision was swimming again, and she closed her eyes against the blur. She could hear him, though, and a moment later felt his rough palm cupping her cheek.

He was speaking out loud, but she could feel his panic through their connection. “Emma, love, are you alright? What happened?”

She blinked a few times before staring up at him; he was hovering on all fours, his eyes darting as he looked her over for injury. The longer he touched her, the better she felt; she wasn’t surprised, but damn, they needed to kick this bullshit.

«Agreed,» came his the echo of his voice in her head, and he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. «Don’t scare me like that again.»

«I’ll try,» she said, «and I’m sorry.»

«You couldn’t help it, love; no need to apologize.»

«No, not just for that—for everything.» The truth of it was that it was that moment that sealed the deal for her. Other than her family, no one had ever worried about her like that, and the surge of love she felt—both from him and her own feelings—when he gave her that gentle kiss was greater than she’d ever felt. «For ignoring you, for fighting this, for letting us get like this. I’m sorry.» A tear started to fall down her cheek; god, she was officially a sap now.

«Oh, Swan—don’t.» He relaxed down to the floor to lay next to her. «I get it—I nearly did the same a few times, too.»

«You did?» She was surprised how much that shocked her; she was used to it from most people, but not him.

«You should have seen the tests I had my friends in the lab running. Everything from cancer to mono.»

«I nearly bought a pregnancy test at one point,» she giggled. «Don’t we make a pair?»

He smiled back. «We do, love,» came the soft voice, and he ran a hand through her hair. «We do.»

She couldn’t help it anymore: the combination of his emotions and thoughts were mixing with hers and threatening to drown her; she hadn’t felt anything this intense since...well, since Neal, but now she realized how wrong she’d been then. Killian was coming to a similar conclusion, she could tell, but she didn’t want to think about anyone else right now—just him.

So she hitched a leg over his hips, closed the space between them, and proceeded to kiss the living daylights out of him. And maybe grind up on him a bit. (Was that still a thing people did? God, she was so rusty.)

«I don’t know, and I don’t bloody care as long as it’s something we do.» Even his voice in her head was wrecked, to match the way he was panting. He tangled his legs with hers to bring himself closer, mirroring her gesture; she forgot how good dry humping felt.

Hell, all of this—it was like her body was coming back to life after a decade of disuse. Killian’s touch, minimal as it was through the layers of clothes they still had on, was sending those same sparks from earlier through her whole being, inside and out. She wanted to feel everything he could make her feel—she needed him, desperately. And if the growing bulge his scrubs failed to hide was anything, he did too.

«Only if you want to,» he assured her, taking a break from their game of tonsil hockey to catch their breaths, but he still pressed his forehead to hers. «I know you wanted your pizza,» he teased.

«To hell with the pizza.»

She held him tight with her leg one more time, feeling the press of his growing erection against her core—where a fair amount of those sparks had settled—before pecking his lips, sitting up, grabbing his hand and forearm, and somehow managing to untangle their legs without hitting any sensitive areas. He followed her to standing, and she quickly tugged him down the hallway to her bedroom; if she giggled a bit at the idea of having a boy in her room after so long, well, that would stay between them.

They’d no sooner crossed the threshold than she was back on him, pressing him against her dresser on the adjacent wall and probably knocking some books or something off, but that was the last thing on her mind; she was too caught up in finding the perfect way to grip his hips and the way his fingers were toying with the hem of her baggy T-shirt, grazing the skin underneath. She was starting to understand how a sparkler felt, with the way his every touch drew a spark.

As they continued to kiss, her hands began to wander, too, and found the edge of his sweater (she had no idea when he’d ditched the jacket, but that was also low on the list of concerns at the moment). His palm was resting warm and heavy on her waist, so she followed suit, letting her touch slip under fabric to his skin, and started to slide upwards.

To her shock, though, he flinched away, putting distance between them—though not enough that she couldn’t still see the way his chest was heaving under his (extremely well-fitting, she saw now) sweater. His eyes were cast on the floor and he was clenching his jaw nervously.

«Hey, what’s wrong?» she asked gently, but didn’t want to make a move if it might jar him more.

«It’s nothing; it’s just that...no one has seen me like this since...since the accident.»

Oh, god—she hadn’t even thought about that. Here she was worrying about her own skills when there were much bigger issues to be dealt with—on both ends, probably. «We don’t have to.»

«No, I want to,» he assured her, finally meeting her gaze again. «I just remembered all of a sudden, and...I’m afraid it’s not all that pretty.»

Well, she knew a thing or two about having scars. But she hadn’t given them much thought until now; they didn’t really bother her all that much. Which, she supposed, meant only one thing.

«Then let me go first.»

He tried to protest, but she ignored it as she guided his hand up her side, encouraging him to go higher. They both stilled when he reached her bare breast—she’d forgotten she hadn’t bothered with a bra in several days, and he wasn’t expecting the lack of obstruction when his thumb grazed her nipple. She sensed an odd combination of panic and thrill coming from him, and a polite apology started to form, which was when Emma found the lone downside to having an almost telepathic connection with her soulmate: she couldn’t shut him up with a kiss.

«But you can keep trying,» he suggested, winking terribly. His deep chuckle echoed in her mind and goosebumps rose on her skin.

He left his hand on her breast while she shimmied out of her top, moving only far enough away to slip it off and toss it aside. The cooler air plus her growing arousal were evidenced by her peaked nipples, and she didn’t miss the way his gaze drifted south.

And in one swift motion, she slid off her oversized pajama pants, letting them fall to the floor and leaving her completely naked.

His hungry gaze darted around, scanning her body, and for a moment, the same self-consciousness he was feeling slipped in—no one had seen her naked in ages, either, not since before Henry was born; she was by no means out of shape, but pregnancy had left its marks, in addition to all the other ones she’d acquired over the years. For the first time in a long time, she felt somewhat exposed—but the feeling evaporated under his reverent stare.

«You are bloody stunning, love; every part of you.» He pulled her closer and placed yet another soft kiss against her temple; she didn’t think she’d ever get tired of those, or the accompanying wave of love that threatened to drown her with each one. He took a deep breath, then, «I suppose it’s my turn, then?»

«Only if you want.»

He swallowed. «Lend me a hand?»

She giggled. «Of course, but you have to promise to never make a hand joke again.»

«We’ll see.»

She could kiss the smirk off his face, at least, and proceeded to do so as her hands made their way back to his waist and slipped beneath his sweater. Slowly, she dragged upwards, his sweater bunching at her wrists as she uncovered his stomach. She was curious to look, but didn’t want to pull away until she needed to.

Her fingers were the first to discover the hair on his chest as they slid through it; it was thick and soft to the touch—a contrast to the firm muscles beneath. Despite all her dreaming, that was a detail that never quite worked its way into her fantasies—she’d never much cared for it before—but now, it seemed to perfectly fit him. And she was anxious to see it.

She’d gone as far as she could on her own, her hands coming to rest on his collarbones, her thumbs settling into the dips there. Killian took over then, lifting his arms to tug off his left sleeve above her head and not breaking the kiss until he was pulling the shirt off altogether—and then her breath was nearly stolen.

Killian may have said she was stunning, but he was fucking gorgeous. He wasn’t one of those ripped gym rats, like she had once thought he’d be, but he was clearly strong—a solid core and lean muscles, with biceps that looked like they could both hold her hips tight in the throes of passion and then cuddle her close after. Dark hair perfectly covered his pecs and drew a trail down the center of his stomach, disappearing into the scrubs that he absolutely needed to take off. And there were scars, yes—scattered around his upper body, but most obviously at the end of his left arm—but if anything, they just made him more...real.

«Did you doubt I was?» he ribbed. (Which, speaking of ribs, she could just see the outline of his, and knew hers were on similar display—a reminder of how bad things had gotten for both of them; never again, though.)

«I dunno; this all kind of seems like a strange dream come to life.»

He stepped closer and placed his hand and wrist on her waist. «A good dream, I trust?»

«An incredible one, but one that I never really dared to hope for.»

He placed his forehead on hers—another gesture she was coming to adore. «I know the feeling.»

For a long moment, they just breathed each other in and floated in the swirl of their shared emotions going back and forth; she was starting to lose track if the love she felt cresting in her heart was her own for him or his for her. It seemed endless, though, so as long as it never ran out, it probably didn’t matter what belonged to who.

«I can assure you, it won’t run dry.»

«Good.»

She reached for his shoulders again and pressed against him, finding his lips for what felt like the hundredth time—and she hadn’t had enough, not at all, nor would she likely ever. But, as she arched her pelvis up against too many layers of cotton, she knew she’d had enough of these damn scrub pants.

His laughter rang in her head as she ignored any rules of propriety and ran her hands down his back until she hit the elastic band of his pants and dipped under them, right to his bare (well, slightly fuzzy) cheeks and gripped. That brought him even closer to her, his chest hair brushing against her nipples and his erection pressing into her core.

«These really need to come off.»

«There’s nothing stopping you.»

«Thank God.»

She wasted no time in slipping them off his narrow hips, barely waiting for them to hit the floor before she was changing their direction, only pausing long enough for him to step out of the legs lest he trip, before she was pushing him in the direction of her bed. The back of his legs hit the edge of the mattress and he tried to sit, but she stayed on top of him until he fell back against the bed with her straddled over his hips. She could feel his cock pressing against her waiting entrance, but not at all in the way she wanted—no, needed him.

«Can’t I properly lavish you, my love?» he enquired coquettishly as he massaged her breast with his hand and brought her closer to his level with the other arm. «I want to make you feel good.»

God, that sounded amazing, and she wanted to reciprocate. But him pulling her flat to his chest had just made it more painfully obvious that he wasn’t inside her, and that was all she wanted. She was more than ready—he had to be aware of that—and logically, she knew that was the fastest way to dispel whatever was left of their lovesickness. (That, and she’d gotten a good look at his shaft when she’d pulled his pants off and—damn.)

«Next time—I promise.» She was panting with want. «But right now, I need to feel you.»

He nodded; he was just as breathless. «Okay; where do you want me?»

«On top.»

«As you wish.»

Smoothly, he flipped them over so that she was flat on her back and he was hovering above her, propped on his left forearm. He placed one last, long kiss against her lips, then sat back on his haunches to ready himself.

A bit of nervousness snuck in here—she really hadn’t done this since...well, probably not since Henry was conceived. She knew she needed to lift her hips up a bit and would need to help him out, but did she remembered how to set the rhythm? How to meet him thrust for thrust?

«We’ll figure it out together, love,» he said with a soft smile and gentle caress of his blunted wrist on her thigh. He was a bit nervous, too, but knowing they were in the same boat made it all the easier.

And then she watched as he stroked himself and anything other than desire faded away. Her own fingers unconsciously drifted to her clit and began stroking, needing some sort of relief.

When he was ready, he shifted forward into the open embrace of her legs. «You ready?»

«So.»

«Can you…?»

“Yeah,” she breathed out loud; it still took some conscious effort to communicate nonverbally and her brain power was becoming increasingly limited. But she sat up enough to take her own hold of his velvety cock—one she could not wait to take in hand and mouth at a later date—and guided it to her entrance, circling it gently.

They were both a bit anxious about what came next—would it feel like the first time all over again?—but she nodded at Killian to go ahead, and he slid inside in one smooth motion.

Oh, God—she’d forgotten what this felt like. Yeah, she had her toys, but nothing could replicate the feel of the real thing: the heat, the smell, the emotion. This was exactly what she needed—exactly who she needed.

«You feel bloody amazing, darling.» They hadn’t even started moving and already, he sounded wrecked.

«So do you, oh my god.»

She pulled him down by the neck to kiss him again, taking a long moment to get used to the feel of him, even though in some ways, he felt familiar—like he was a perfect fit.

«I mean, we are soulmates,» he reminded her.

«Yeah, but I didn’t think that applied to body parts, too.»

«I fail to see any negatives here.»

«Oh, definitely not.»

He turned the attention of his lips to her neck, tickling her with his stubble, which made her squirm—and then gasp, because it drew just the slightest bit of friction where they were joined together. And it felt incredible.

«That good, eh? We barely did anything.»

She wrapped a leg around him and pressed her foot against his ass, moving him again. «No more teasing; just move.»

It took longer than she’d care to admit for them to figure out the right pace—being soulmates didn’t mean they were automatically in sync (which was probably descriptive of their entire relationship)—but they eventually got there, to a point where she could meet him at every push and he found the perfect angle to hit every sensitive point inside. He groaned when she clenched, and she moaned whenever he pressed hard enough to brush her clit. And in no time at all—but also possibly forever? Time was weird—she was near the edge of release, so close to falling off.

«Let go, Emma; I want to see you come.»

«I want you to go with me.»

He let out a deep exhale. «I’ll try.»

He picked up the pace and her already racing heart struggled to keep up with it, but in the end, she couldn’t; she reached her peak and crested it with a shout, fireworks going off behind her eyes as he continued to thrust into her.

It didn’t take much longer for him to follow her, though, and even though she was caught up in her own rapture, she could feel him stutter as he climaxed and spilled into her. (Good thing she still took the pill, if only for the cycle regularity.) He was dangerously close to collapsing on top of her but still, she held him tight with her legs, as if he might disappear if she didn’t.

But he was done depressingly soon, and her legs were no match for the dead weight that was leaning against them as he fell to her side on the mattress. Every part of her was tingling, as if each cell in her body was renewed after that. She cracked an eye open, and despite the dim light coming through her bedroom curtain, Killian was nearly effulgent as they lay there in the afterglow. She knew they needed to clean up, and probably text David so that he knew they weren’t dead, but that could be dealt with later; right now, she just wanted to soak this in.

Killian reached across the short distance between them and pulled her tight to his chest; she was right—those biceps were perfect for being held. «How was it?» he asked shyly.

«Only the greatest orgasm of my life; how about you?»

He smirked. «Roughly the same, I think.»

She placed a gentle peck on the scar on his cheek. «I love you.»

«I love you, too.» He sighed and snuggled into her neck. «Now what?»

«We’ll deal with that later,» she sighed. «Right now, this is perfect.»

*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*

«You were wearing this when we met,» he thought as he wrapped himself around her from behind, adorably resting his chin on her bare shoulder.

She was getting dressed—after round 2, where they did get to lavish each other, then round 3 in the shower—into a very familiar blouse and rather unseasonable pair of shorts; he’d only gotten as far as his pants.

«Mhmm. This is what I was going to wear, until I found out some random guy was gonna be there. Couldn’t run around exposing myself like that, now could I?»

«I don’t know; might have saved us a lot of time.»

She turned in his arms and hugged him tight, loving the feel of his warm skin under her palms. «No, probably not. I was nowhere near ready then.»

«And now?» he asked; even if they weren’t communicating verbally, his facial expressions—including the signature quirk of his eyebrow—remained the same.

«Ready for anything.» She emphasized it by rising on her toes to give him a quick kiss. «But if you don’t get a shirt on soon, David is gonna send a search party.»

«Let him,» Killian smirked, and made a move to plant a kiss on her neck that she narrowly dodged, only by jumping away; of course he’d noticed she was ticklish there.

“I’m serious, Killian!” Now that she was getting used to their telepathic connection, it felt like was the first time she’d used her voice in ages; at least she was laughing as she chastised him. “I walked in on him and Snow enough and as much as I might like the idea of revenge, I do NOT want to subject Henry to that.”

He brushed a tendril of hair off her shoulder, but left his hand there and gave her a beyond cheeky smirk. «It’s bound to happen at some point.»

She just rolled her eyes. «Put your damn shirt on.»

Somewhere in there, they had let David know they were alive and would be heading over shortly. They made no mention of the other, though; Killian would join them later, after he went home to change, and honestly—they just wanted to see the reaction, especially from Snow. She did worry a bit about Henry, but knowing how good they were together kept her concern to a minimum.

After Killian pouted some more but eventually complied with her request for clothing (one of the few times she’d ever have to ask, she hoped), she drove him over to his building—which really was close, but he’d taken a Swyft to her place. They shared a quick kiss goodbye and then she was alone.

It was surprising how quickly that empty feeling came over her again now that she was by herself—how quickly she’d gotten used to his presence, particularly over the last few life-changing hours, but the past months as well. Hopefully, the cops weren’t around, because she pressed the gas pedal a little bit harder—she couldn’t wait to see everyone again. Now that she knew for a fact there was someone else on her side—that she didn’t have to isolate herself anymore—she didn’t want to at all.

At least it was a short drive, and Henry was waiting for her on the front porch when she pulled up to the house. “Mom! I missed you!” he shouted as he ran for her, then grabbed her in a bruising hug. God, it seemed like he’d grown half a foot in the last few days.

“I missed you too, kid.” But it took the same amount of effort as usual to kiss the top of his head, so at least she hadn’t missed anything.

She did feel a bit guilty that she’d still managed to succumb to the one thing she’d worked so hard to avoid, but at least she knew it would never happen again.

“You’re all better now?” he asked in a hopeful voice.

“Yup; all better. And I promise to not let myself get that sick again.”

“Good. I was ready to sick Killian on you.”

She snorted; that was not something she was going to try to verify nor dispute. And he didn’t notice, thank God; it was bad enough he knew what cockblocking was. He just dragged her to the backyard, where Snow and Dave were waiting.

Their immediate grins turned over to a bit of shock, probably at her outfit; she was definitely dressed for summer, and while it was unusually warm for the last week of October, it was barely 70 degrees. But she hadn’t felt the breeze on her skin in so long, and hey—she had a point to make.

“Well, don’t you look...summery,” Snow assessed as she gave her a hug; David was, per usual, at the grill. “Oh, but I forgot to tell you: Killian’s coming too.”

Snow was a terrible liar: she hadn’t forgotten at all. If the not-so-hidden gleam in her eye was any hint, this was yet another matchmaking scheme. But Emma could play along this once.

“Oh, okay,” she shrugged, feigning disinterest. “I’ll keep my space.”

Henry was catching her up on what he’d learned at school that week and the latest drama with his friends when Killian arrived. She was trying her damnedest to keep up with what Henry was telling her about his science class, but Killian’s presence was exceedingly distracting—especially with the way he sauntered in wearing a form-fitting t-shirt that both hugged his biceps and revealed a peek at his chest hair, and khaki shorts that showed off his calves. Even though she knew what lay underneath all that, she could still feel the pull of arousal.

She turned her focus back to Henry as Killian greeted Dave and then Snow, trying her best to play it cool. If that was a thing she could still do (probably not). But it was like every part of her was in tune with him now, and couldn’t help but react when he made his way over to the table they were sitting at.

“Is this seat taken?” he enquired, nodding at the chair next to Emma.

“Go ahead,” she said, unable to keep a hint of a smile off her face.

But he didn’t get a chance to sit before Henry had hopped up and wrapped him in a hug, too. Any lingering worries about Henry’s potential reaction immediately disappeared as she watched the tender interaction between them, on both their ends—they’d both clearly felt the absence of the other, so now she was feeling a bit guilty instead.

Like she’d told herself earlier, though: it wouldn't happen again.

They took their seats on either side of her—Killian on her left, Henry on her right—and Henry relaunched his stories. Aside from some light footsie, they hadn’t made contact yet, though his arm resting on the surface of the table was only inches from hers. Eventually, Henry realized that all the parts of Killian’s prosthesis were exposed, so that gave her an opportunity to make a move, when Killian was leaning over the table to show it to Henry.

Surreptitiously, she let her forearm touch his, where he was bracing himself on the table with it. The only indication he gave that he noticed was the brief straightening of his spine, but she immediately sensed his emotions again—happiness, a bit of hunger, but mostly love.

«I missed you,» he told her while Henry was inspecting the mechanics of the prosthesis.

«It wasn’t even an hour,» she teased.

«Are you trying to tell me you don’t feel the same? Because I can tell that’s not true.»

«No, I definitely missed you, too.»

The connection was broken when he sat back down—when Snow brought the food over. She proceeded to mother hen them as she distributed the food, making sure they were both feeling better—and asking some pointed questions about the rose tea.

“Yeah, it did help a lot,” Emma gushed.

“Aye; thank you, milady,” Killian added, ever the gentleman.

Snow seemed pleased, but there was still a level of concern in her manner that anyone could see; she didn’t think her plan was working, to which Emma hid her smirk in a bite of hot dog. (She could see wheels turning in Henry’s head, though.)

She and Killian continued to act cool to each other through the meal, save the occasional brush of the leg under the table (which was mostly to laugh at Snow’s matchmaking attempt).

Finally, Snow left with Henry to take the dishes inside and David cleaned up the grill, leaving them alone. She put her shin against his leg again while pretending to look at her phone.

«Do it when she comes back?» she proposed.

«Yeah, but wait for her to set the pie down; I’d hate for her to drop it.»

«Good point.»

And so, casually, once Snow had brought the pie to the table and made the first cut, Emma wrapped her hand around Killian’s and waited for everyone to notice.

“Emma, do you want ice...OH MY GOD.”

There it was: the reaction they expected from Snow. She’d dropped the serving knife, which landed with a clatter on the table, and was staring at their joined hands with wide eyes and jaw hanging open. Eventually she blinked and slammed her mouth shut, but continued to stare at them.

“But—you were—” she stammered, a pointed finger drifting between the two of them. “I thought—I didn’t—”

Emma was trying really hard not to laugh and could feel how amused Killian was, too. David just looked confused, and Henry was a bit slack-jawed, though she could tell it was in a good way.

Then it was like a lightbulb went on in Snow’s head, and she turned to David. “I called it! I totally called it!”

She then fell into girlish squeals while David, instead, levied a wary eye on Killian. “Is this why you wanted their address?”

“Um, yeah.”

David squinted. “Do I want to know?”

“Probably not,” Killian answered.

Henry piped up. “Do I wanna know?”

“Absolutely not!” Emma cut in.

All eyes were on Henry, though, as he stood and walked around Emma’s chair to Killian.

“Do you love my mom?” he asked, with all the severity a 10-year-old boy could muster.

“I do,” Killian said, and it almost sounded like a vow.

“And you promise not to hurt her, or to run away on us?” She didn’t miss the way he said “us”; she was a little surprised they hadn’t discussed it, but Killian knew he was getting a package deal—he had from the beginning.

“I’d rather be sent to the depths of Hades.”

«Drama queen,» she told him, but Killian’s eyes only flickered over to hers for a moment as he continued to hold Henry’s stare.

“Okay then,” Henry nodded, then seemed to think for a moment before launching himself at Killian again. “Welcome to the family.”

She didn’t need their connection to know how that made Killian feel: his eyes grew wide for a moment, but then they closed and he returned the hug full-force. She’d had the same reaction when she was adopted all those years ago; and though this was a totally different situation, it was still the same emotion.

Snow wanted all the details, obviously, and David and Henry wanted none, so they complied until the sun set and it was time to go home, both of them feeling the chill in their weather-inappropriate wardrobes.

They stood by their cars, locked in an embrace—both because of a desire to stay close and desire to get warm.

«Well, that went reasonably well,» he decided.

«Yeah, pretty good. I expected a bit more screaming though.»

«Same,» he chuckled.

«When can I see you next?» This was the part she wasn’t looking forward to; they weren’t in any danger of lovesickness again—not if she had anything to say about it—but there was still the reality that they had different jobs and different homes. (For the time being, at least.)

He shrugged. «We never got to enjoy that pizza. Maybe we try again tomorrow night?»

«Sounds perfect.» She underlined it by rising to her toes to place a lingering kiss on him.

“Are you guys gonna be like this all the time now?” Henry called out from the other side of the Bug, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.

“Yup,” she yelled back. “Get used to it.”

“Ugh, fine,” he grumbled, but it was half-hearted; she could hear the happiness in his voice.

«Well, we shouldn’t try to scar him too much.»

«That’s a change in tone from earlier.»

«I didn’t have his approval yet. Didn’t you hear? I’m part of the family now.» She could really fell his joy at that now.

«You already were; you know that, right?»

«It’s nice to have confirmation.»

«Yeah, I know.» She kissed him again. «And I hope you never doubt it again.»

He was the one to pull her close this time, stealing her breath with a kiss that she hoped would get her through the next day. «Not as long as I have you. I love you.»

«I love you, too,» she sighed. «Onto the next adventure?»

«After you, love.»

*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*

It wasn’t like a switch was flipped and they were just happy-true love all the time. There were still bumps in the road, they had their share of fights, and their past fears and walls still haunted them on occasion.

Several months passed before they moved in together—months that didn’t look all that different from the previous ones, save for the regular sleepover. They couldn’t decide whose apartment to move to, but Henry was the one to quash that dispute when he found a house for sale a couple streets over from Snow and Dave.

They were almost always touching when they were together, and even more so once they lived together—and their connection only grew. She didn’t realize that it could, but the longer they were together, the more impossibly in tune they became.

And she finally got to experience shared dreams—for real this time. And it was mostly amazing, but people with baggage like theirs didn’t only have sweet dreams; they had nightmares, too. More than once, she saw the crash that took Milah, and Killian saw Neal’s death several times. The worst ones were when the two became melded together and they dreamed about losing each other; those were the nights they came together to make sure the dreams weren’t real—to feel the other there.

Granted, that wasn’t the only time they got it on—they did that fairly regularly and with vigor, which was probably why their daughter, Hope, came along sooner rather than later.

(But not before Snow got to plan their wedding, at least. They’d been right: she started the binder the day they met.)

All told, it was...perfect. It was both everything she expected and nothing like it, and she wouldn’t have it any other way, even if it had taken her so long to warm up to the idea.

«You just hadn’t met me yet,» Killian teased, standing behind her on their patio and looking out over their backyard. Snow and David were there, with their son Leo toddling after Hope and Henry chasing them both around. Maybe it was a cliche, but she was pretty sure this was what happily ever after looked like.

«Nope, I hadn’t,» she confirmed, and pulled his arms a bit tighter around her. «I love you.»

«I love you, too.»

*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*――*☆*

thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!

tagging some peeps: @kat2609 @thesschesthair @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @amortentia-on-the-rocks@mryddinwilt@cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @word-bug @fergus80@pirateherokillian@bleebug @its-imperator-furiosa @killianmesmalls@effulgentcolors @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @stubble-sandwich @killian-whump @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @distant-rose @athenascarlet @kmomof4@ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose@snowbellewells@idristardis @scientificapricot @let-it-raines @shireness-says@courtorderedcake @its-okay-killian @captainsjedi @a-faekindagirl

#cs ff #cssns 2019 #cs soulmates au #sick of love #my ff

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mischiefiswritten · 4 years

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10 Questions Tag!

Shout out to @awrenthatwrites for keeping me so well-supplied with tag games! I’ve loved having them waiting for me when I get back to my blog.

1. How did you come up with your WIP’s title?

The Calm Before actually went without a title for quite some time, including the entirety of its first iteration (which is quite different from the current version). That was pretty unusual for me because I’m one of those writers that needs things to be named, even just with stand-ins, before I can proceed with it.

And honestly... I can not claim any kind of cleverness when it comes to TCB’s title. With the prevalence of the Stormbringer in the story’s plot, the phrase “the calm before the storm” just popped very quickly into my mind. I chopped off the end of the phrase et voila! A working title. I don’t know if it’s going to stay, but I’ve loved it for what it is.

The story for Here There Be Monsters is much the same. But that one’s staying.

2. Do you title your chapters? If so, what’s your favorite?

Typically I have not, but recently I’ve felt like I wanted to. I don’t think it’s right for TCB, but it does fit nicely into HTBM.

Since HTBM is episodic in structure, I get to title each “episode” as well as its chapters. Potentially, I could even get to title “seasons” or story arcs, if the project continues long enough. This project is still really new, so it’s only got one episode title at the moment:

“A Lost Little Wisp”

3. What’s a recent line you really like?

I have to admit I actually really like the whole opening scene to HTBM. Here’s a tiny bit that I’m proud of...

This takes place during Gael’s desperate and foolish maneuver to escape her pursuers. Essentially a high speed ship chase.

It was not until the ship was tipping nose first into the maelstrom that Gael realized the man in the public house had been lying. The Maw seized the ship like a demonic spirit, threatening to rip the wheel from her hands, or simply her arms from her body. Now it was the dark thing hiding at the bottom of the sea that chanted, “Give it up, give it up.” It wasn’t just hungry; it was possessive. Everything and everyone on its surface belonged to it. There was nothing it would not take for its own in the end.

Something primeval was calling from the murk and the foam. Its voice, sonorous and terrible, slid through Gael’s very blood. It slithered along the planks beneath her feet, caressing everything in its way with oily, formless tentacles.

4. Are there any writing-related quotes you really like?

There are so many good ones! But I feel like no one is more quotable than Tolkien and Lewis. These quotes aren’t so much about the craft, but they do speak to me about the art, passion, and joy of storytelling.

“Since it is so likely that children will meet cruel enemies, let them at least have heard of brave knights and heroic courage.” (CS Lewis)

“It simply isn’t an adventure worth telling if there aren’t any dragons.” (JRR Tolkien)

5. Do you have an idea for a cover design for your story?

I don’t! I find this sort of thing so difficult, whether its book covers or faceclaims or castings.

6. What sort of AU can you imagine your story being?

Do you mean, if there could be one AU that would fit best with my characters what would it be? Or what kind of AU trope is my novel? <-- This was Talya’s question, and I have to repeat it! I’m also going to answer the same way.

If I were picking an AU to see my story written as, I think a The Greatest Showman AU would be a fun one for the Here There Be Monsters cast! That iconic scene when Philip and Anne see each other for the first time would be perfect for the primary protagonists.

And if my novel was going to be an AU trope, it’d probably be a Friends-type setup where they all live in the same building and are overly involved in each other’s lives.

7. Which OC would be the most angry with you as the writer?

Are any of them likely to be very happy with me?

8. If you had to tell the story from a different POV, which character would you choose?

This is tough because I gravitate toward 3rd person limited omniscient POV. In TCB I have four proper POV characters (Rys, Hale, Aldrich, and Neja), which I feel like adequately cover all the angles I want covered for that story. If I could add one, however, I think Vidri’s perspective would be a fun one!

In HTBM I don’t use POV characters, but rather choose whose thoughts/knowledge gets shared at any given time. If I were to pick a POV character for the story (beyond the obvious) I would probably go for the Collector. It seems right up his alley to be relating this story!

9. What would be your OC’s taste in music if they lived in our world?

Wow, this is unexpectedly difficult to answer! I’ve got nothing for the characters, but I do have a theme song chosen for HTBM! “Deep Water” by American Authors

10. What’s one personal goal you want to achieve by the end of the story?

My goal for TCB is to complete the project in a way I can feel proud of. In a way this is related to my goal for HTBM (and its very existence) because I’ve never completed a novel. I don’t know that HTBM will ever properly end or what that will look like, but my hope in starting it is that it will teach me to write without fear. One of my biggest hurtles as a writer has been that I’m so often paralyzed by perfectionism, pulled in a hundred directions because I don’t want to make a misstep. HTBM is designed for me to simply write without the fear or expectations that go with a project like TCB that I’ve become so invested in over the years. It’s an exercise in letting go.

Thanks again for the tag! I’m going to tag @pen-of-roses, @coffeescribles, @writing-for-the-stars-and-moon, @inscrutable-shadow, and @thewrittenpost if you want to!

#10 questions tag #tag game for writers #writeblr #writing #mischiefiswritten #tcb #htbm

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let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Rising from the Ashes (13/?)

Summary: When her husband died, Emma wasn’t sure that she could ever move on. He left her with a broken heart and a baby who was only three-months old. It’s enough to take most people down, to make them not want to keep going, but Emma Swan isn’t most people. She’s stronger than she has any right to be. And after years of heartache, she’s found ways to move on…one of those being in Neal’s best friend, Killian Jones.

As she’s always known, however, things are more complicated than they ever seem to be.

Rating: Mature

A/N: Hey, hey, hey! I’m back in my regular timezone with access to my laptop and a bed that’s my own which means new chapters without funky formatting and wrong links! I hope everyone enjoyed those fluffy Christmas chapters! We’re kind of moving into the second half of the story now, so things will start happening soon! ❤️

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

Tag list: @jamif @artistic-writer @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @resident-of-storybrooke @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @ekr032-blog-blog @mayquita @bmbbcs4evr @wellhellotragic @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @shady-swan-jones @snowbellewells @snow-into-ash @andiirivera @mariakov81 @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @kristi555 @facesiousbutton82 @superchocovian @jonirobinson64

The New Year begins without much fanfare. The day after Christmas, Killian and Neal go back to work while Liam and Belle fly home to England in what has to be one of the most emotional goodbyes that she’s felt in all of her time in knowing them. The house definitely feels emptier after a week full of life, but it also gives her a few days to calm down and start preparing for her to officially go back to work and not just communicate with her students through email. She’s nervous for her first day back with students roaming the halls instead of teacher work days where the school feels empty, and it’s kind of weird. She’s been at Greely for three years, and even with the partial semester that she just took off that was a combination of maternity leave and “ex-husband coming back from the dead” leave, she’s always felt comfortable there. It’s a good public school, well-funded, and she likes most of the teachers and administrative staff.

She’s made some of her closest friends there, mostly Ruby, and she finds that her lunch breaks are often spent in the art room eating with Ruby instead of sitting in her office or the cafeteria. She’s missed Ruby over the last few months. Usually they keep in better touch, sometimes going out to dinner, but she’s dropped the ball. Ruby has understood and given her space, but for all the reasons she’s looking forward to going back to work, having a normal social life again is definitely still near the top of the list.

And getting to do things other than watching her children and cleaning the house or taking down Christmas decorations despite all of Henry’s protests. She doesn’t mind. This is her life, and she wants to take care of Henry and Ada. She’s their mom, and it’s something she’s always wanted. She simply wants more.

So naturally, she goes from taking care of her own kids to taking care of other people’s grown kids.

But she wants a schedule again, wants to get up and be productive, wants to have her paycheck again, wants to feel like she’s making a difference.

She wants every bit of normalcy that she’s been craving since that morning in September when she passed out on the kitchen floor because Henry told her that Neal was alive.

Talk about a morning.

Throughout her life, she’s never been one to believe in star signs or that a new calendar year means anything, but now, for the first time, a new year might mean a new beginning for her and for her family. She hopes that the new beginning is a good one because even though things are good now, she understands that with everything happening, it’s likely that things will get a bit complicated.

Okay, that’s a lie. Things are definitely going to get more complicated, but she hopes that it’s a good kind of complicated and not one that’s going to bring her enough stress to age her a good five years when she was kind of hoping she could avoid some more wrinkles for a little bit more time. Or gray hairs. She’s not looking forward to those for her.

(Killian isn’t either, but that’s because she found one gray hair on his head. He was not at all happy about it. She thought it was kind of adorable. Or sexy. She told him it was sexy and not adorable. He’s a confident man, but sometimes she has to stroke his ego, amongst other things.)

But she thinks it’s going to happen, and it’s most likely going to be caused by the constant push and pull that is having Neal back in her life.

Neal has been offered a job in DC. Like, officially. She knew that it was a possibility, especially with the time that he’s been spending there still working with the Marines, but when he told her that he was offered a job at the State Department to work with arms control and regulation, she was surprised. He says that it’s not the position that he wants, that he might see if he can find something else with his connections he now has because of everything that’s happened, but that this is a good step in the door. She’s proud of him, proud that he’s going after what he wants in life, but like she thought before when they’d talked about this, it breaks her heart the slightest bit.

Why doesn’t he want to stay?

Why doesn’t he want to stay in town with Henry?

Shouldn’t he want that after missing so much of his life?

She and Neal are definitely forming a new kind of friendship that will make her miss him, but mostly, she’s worried about their son. It’s not a super short flight to DC, and she’s not sending her eight-year-old on a flight by himself, no matter what procedures there are for unaccompanied minors. That’s not happening. And it’s not like he can simply go see his dad on the weekends without there being a conflict with them or with Henry’s soccer games. She doesn’t know when Henry would see Neal, and she doesn’t care if it’s selfish, but Henry isn’t spending his summers or holidays away from her. She’s been with him for his entire life, and she’s not sure how she’s going to handle any of this, especially if things rapidly tumble down a hill into a nasty custody battle.

That’s not going to happen. Neal wouldn’t do that to her. She’s overreacting. He would never try to take Henry away from her. That much she knows, even if it takes constant reminding.

Besides, they’re making arrangements to all travel to DC in March during Henry’s spring break to show him around where they all used to live and to let him see where his dad might live now.

Making that one vacation with all of them going is complicated enough. Custody battles would be worse.

Custody battles aren’t happening, she reminds herself. This is her anxiety over more changes when she’s trying to get back to normal again talking to her.

She’s never been great with change. She thinks it’s a foster kid thing because of all of the uncertainty of how long she’d be in a house or if the parents would be nice. It’s…a lot. She doesn’t really like to think about it anymore.

It doesn’t help, or hopefully it will help, that she and Killian just found a therapist for Henry, a nice middle-aged man named Archie Hopper. He’s kind, accomplished, and during their test visit last week, Henry really seemed to like him. That’s important to her. If they’re going to have their kid talking to someone about his feelings, talking to someone who might help develop him and how he thinks, it needs to be someone Henry likes. Therapy needs to be a good thing for him and not something that causes him any stress or worries.

Therapy might be causing her some stress.

She needs to find herself a therapist. Maybe someone will give them a group rate for most of the family going.

That’s kind of a sadistic joke.

She makes those.

“Swan,” Killian calls as he steps into the bathroom, Ada squirming in his arms enough that she can see how tightly Killian is holding onto her to keep her from falling, “you guys have to leave in twenty minutes, and she’s hungry. Do you want to feed her or should I get the bottle?”

She hesitates, not entirely sure of her answer. She still needs to eat breakfast and finish putting on her mascara, but she also wants to spend a little more time with Ada. Only a little part of her denies that she’s sentimental, but she won’t deny how upset she is to have to leave Ada at a daycare today. Going back to work is most definitely a good thing, but it’s coming with its own challenges.

Leaving her baby…that’s one of them.

“I’ll feed her. Just grab me the chair from the bedroom and I’ll finish getting ready.”

“Are you sure, love? I can – ”

“I need the time,” she admits, glancing up at Killian’s eyes before walking over and taking Ada out of his arms. “And I can multitask or whatever.”

“Aye, wonder woman.”

“Just without the costume.”

He waggles his brows across his forehead, and she knows what he’s going to say before he even opens his mouth. “That can be arranged.”

She snorts, actually snorts. “Go get me the chair and then make sure Henry has brushed his teeth, okay?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Her eyes roll a bit at that, and she leans down to kiss Ada’s head. “Your daddy is the most ridiculous man in the entire world.”

“I can hear you.”

“I know.”

It takes a bit of maneuvering, but she does get around to feeding Ada while also finishing getting ready for work. She really needs coffee, but she’ll have to get some once she’s at school. If she were to drink it right now, she’d basically be a livewire.

“You look pretty, Mom,” Henry tells her when she walks downstairs, the heels of her boots clicking against the wood.

“Thanks, kid. Did your daddy tell you to say that?”

“No.” She raises a brow at him, and his face immediately shifts from neutral to giddy, a giant grin forming on his lips. “Yes.”

“I did no such thing,” Killian scoffs, playfully elbowing Henry in the side. “How could this kid not want to compliment how pretty his mum is?”

“Because Henry doesn’t give many compliments before eight in the morning.” She takes the few steps over to Henry and leans down to kiss his forehead while Ada continues to pull at the threads of her sweater. “Thank you, baby. You look extra handsome for your first day back at school. Are you excited?”

“Kind of, but I don’t want to call Mary Margaret Mrs. Nolan again. That’s weird.”

“It’s only when she’s your teacher that you have to do that. When you’re out of the third grade, you can go back to calling her Mary Margaret.”

“I’m going to be in third grade forever.”

“I bloody well hope not,” Killian laughs, looking up at her and winking. “What would happen if you were still in third grade by the time your sister got there? You’d want to be in the same class as your sister?”

Henry shrugs and takes another bite of the apple Killian must have cut up for him. “I bet I could teach her a lot of things.”

“You could teach her more if you keep learning in school,” she prods, swiping an apple slice from his plate. “Speaking of that, are you ready to go?”

“Can I bring my book with me?”

“Yeah, but you’ve got to keep it with me in the car, okay?”

“You’re going to pick me up from school, right?”

“Mary Margaret is going to walk you over to my building like we used to do.”

Henry nods his head and goes back to eating his breakfast, stuffing it all in his face far too quickly, while she gets up off of her stool and hugs Ada as much as she can, smattering kisses all across her face. “Be good for Ashley at nursery today, bug,” she whispers, rocking her the slightest bit. “I love you so much, and I will be there to pick you up as soon as I can be.”

Ada babbles something back, her little brain not ready to say anything even though she’s definitely trying her hardest. God, she loves this kid a ridiculous amount. The apple-eating one too.

“Do you want to hand her off to me?” Killian asks gently, reaching over to her and tucking her hair behind her ear. “I promise I don’t bite unless otherwise asked.”

“You’re very cheeky this morning.”

“I had some fantastic adult time last night.”

“You’re the actual worst.”

“I would debate that.”

“Of course you would.”

“And I’d win.”

“Never.”

“Always.”

“Mom, I thought you said we had to go,” Henry whines, coming up to her with his coat and backpack already on, his notebook in his hands.

“We do, we do,” she promises, stepping closer to Killian and quickly brushing her lips over his, her boots only making her press up on her toes a little bit to reach him. “Bye, babe. I love you.”

“I love you too.” She moves to take a step away, and Killian’s hand stops her, keeping her right in front of him. “You have to give me Ada.”

“Really? Are you sure I can’t take her with me? I think she’d fit in well with all of those giant high schoolers.”

“Darling – ”

“I know,” she sighs, dipping her head down to kiss Ada’s hair again. “I love you, bug.”

“She loves you too,” Killian tells her, taking Ada out of her arms and holding her close to his chest. “You’re going to have a good day. Call me at lunch, okay?”

She nods her head and kisses his cheek once more before she’s grabbing her purse and ushering Henry out of the door. She hears the wails the moment the door is closed, and it breaks her heart that little bit more. It’ll stop soon. The separation anxiety will calm down, but then Ada is going to have to go through it all over again when Killian drops her off at her daycare on his way to taking he and Neal to work.

Sometimes all she wants is time by herself to be an adult and have conversations with other adults, but then something like this happens and all she wants is to spend her day with her kid.

“We’re going to be late if you stand there for too long.”

A laugh passes through her lips, and she takes a deep breath before stepping forward and leaning down to smother Henry with as many kisses as she can before he moves away from her. He’s much more difficult to be affectionate with than the kid who can’t even walk yet. “I love you even if you are far too much like your daddy with you telling me we’re going to be late like that.”

“You’re always telling me to hurry up so we can’t be late.”

“That’s true, kid. Let’s get us to school.”

-/-

“So,” Ruby starts as she comes into Emma’s office without knocking, plopping down in one of her extra chairs, “how’s life with baby daddy number one and baby daddy number two? That’s a lot of sexual energy in one house.”

“I cannot believe you educate kids.”

“I’m an art teacher, thank you very much,” she scoffs, holding up her paint covered hands. “I get to be eccentric. Besides, Mills doesn’t pay me any attention. I tell her that the red streaks in my hair are from a project in class.”

“And she believes that?”

“No. She just doesn’t care about me. Just like I don’t care about me. I need to know more about the baby daddy situation. My life is boring, and yours is full of intrigue.”

Her shoulders sag forward before she rolls them back, clicking save on one of her student’s files. She needs to talk to Felix about his late applications tomorrow.

“There’s not much to say,” she admits, and when Ruby’s eyebrows go up to her hairline, she continues, “anymore. I’m still with Killian. Neal is living in our house and working. He’s thinking about moving to DC, which is a whole other can of worms that I’m trying to get him to think through for at least another month or so.”

“You want him to stay? Isn’t that confusing? Like, emotionally?”

“Mostly for Henry. I don’t want his dad to leave him again. Remind me and you can come over for dinner because you have to see how much that kid loves Neal.”

“I mean, his dad is like this badass war hero. What more could an eight-year-old want? That’s about as close to a superhero as he can get.”

“True,” she laughs, reaching down to take a sip of her water while she lets all of that settle in. Technically both of his dads are badass war heroes, but Killian doesn’t like to talk about it too much. It’s all about personal preference, and Neal has decided being a public face of life after war is something that he wants to help others. It’s good for him. “But yeah, we’re all good. I’m happy to be back at work, to see you. Life hasn’t been the same without you.”

“Girl, let me tell you, it has been so boring without you. I’ve been switching around who I sit with at lunch, and the teachers here are definitely in cliques just like that kids.”

“Did you try sitting with the advanced math teachers?”

“Yes,” she groans, slapping her hands against her thighs. “They were so obnoxious.”

Ruby can only stay for ten more minutes before she has to go teach a class, and the rest of the day seems to fly by as she finishes catching up on the things she didn’t get to on the work days she had before the official start of school today. In the back of her mind she knows that it’s nearly time for school to be released, but it doesn’t keep her from jumping when she hears the bell. It also doesn’t keep her from being surprised when Mary Margaret shows up in her office with Leo and Henry trailing just behind her, their eyes wandering around the room like the high school is some kind of magical place.

Maybe it is when everyone is several feet taller than you.

“Hey, kid,” she greets, smiling at him from her desk, “how was school? Did you learn a bunch of cool stuff?”

Henry nods his head before scurrying over to her and cupping his hands against her ear. “It was boring, but I can’t say that with Mary Margaret right there.”

She laughs. She can’t help it. Henry should not be saying that, but it’s kind of delightful that he is.

“It was not boring,” Mary Margaret protests, sitting down in a chair.

“You’re kind of boring, Mom,” Leo adds in as he searches through her bowl of candy, holding up a peppermint in silent question to his mom. “Dad’s job is cooler.”

“Your dad spends his entire day sitting at a computer.”

“But he catches bad guys.”

“He makes a good point, Marg,” she laughs, handing Henry her water bottle since he’s been eyeing it. “I mean, I personally think we’re pretty cool, but David is a detective who solves mysteries.”

“And he’s only able to solve those mysteries because he had good teachers in school.”

“Did you have a good day, Leo?” she asks, trying to change the subject before Mary Margaret goes off on a tangent about how teaching is cool (it is) that turns the kids off of it for life. They’ll understand when they’re older. “I heard that you guys are doing obstacle courses in gym.”

“Oh my gosh,” he gasps, the excitement practically rolling off of him as he presses up on his toes and leans over the desk, nearly knocking things over. “It is so awesome. I get to climb a wall and then hang off of monkey bars. And Lawrence told me to imagine that the floor is like lava so we can’t let go.”

“Did you make it all the way across?”

“You bet I did.”

“Alright,” she laughs, holding up his hand and giving him a high five. “Did you get to do the obstacle course, Henry?”

“No,” he huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “We don’t get to do it until Wednesday.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that’s only two days away from now.”

She lets Mary Margaret and Leo go so that Leo can go to his karate lesson (they kid may be playing every possible sport at the moment), and after she finishes up her last few things and grabs a folder of paperwork to shift through at home, she takes Henry to go pick Ada up from daycare. Whatever breath she’s been holding all day is released the moment her girl is back in her arms looking just as she did this morning. Ashley says that she did just great, even if she did cry for a long time when Killian left her, and while she doesn’t love that, it’s over for today.

But they’ll do it all over again tomorrow.

And they do.

Slowly but surely their routine settles back into how it used to be, even with the changes of the two new people in the house, and she gets used to being back at work after about a week and a half. The shiny newness has worn off, and even though she still loves it, around two she usually needs some coffee to help her make it through the rest of the afternoon. Coffee is pretty much her lifesaver.

On the last Wednesday of January, she’s sitting in the lobby of Dr. Hopper’s office with Ada in her car seat next to her when her phone buzzes with a text.

David: Mom, because she is apparently incapable of texting you herself, wants to know if you guys are still coming to dinner tonight.

Emma: We’re still coming! Neal is going to dinner with some of his coworkers. I think they go to a bar or something every Wednesday.

David: Okay! See you then.

David: Wednesdays are the nights most college kids go out. We get so many drunk and disorderly calls.

Emma: Why Wednesdays?

David: Oh come on, don’t you remember? Late classes on Thurdays usually, so everyone can show up hungover. You’re younger than me kid. You’re not supposed to have forgotten these things.

Emma: Forgive me for not being as wild in college as you were with your long hair.

David: I hate that Mom gave you those pictures when she was trying to make you feel at home.

Emma: I love them. You were a very handsome grungy 90’s man.

David: I will burn them all.

Emma: Arson, detective Nolan.

“Miss Swan,” Dr. Hopper says as he and Henry come out of his office, Henry trailing behind him with his hands stuffed in his coat pocket, “how are you today?”

“I’m good,” she promises, putting her phone in her back pocket and getting up to shake his hand since she didn’t get to when she dropped Henry off. “How are you?”

“Just wonderful. I’ll see you and Henry next week at five, right?”

“His dad might bring him to his session next week.”

“His father or – ”

“Killian,” she explains, knowing that it’s easier to say his name when talking to other people. It’s going to be even more confusing when he decides to that he’s too old to call Killian daddy anymore. He’s already switching back between ‘Mom’ and ‘Momma’ for her. “I’ve got to take the baby for a checkup.”

“Well I look forward to seeing him then. Henry, I’ll see you next week, okay?”

“Okay,” Henry smiles, reaching up to high five doctor Hopper. “Thanks for the candy.”

“No problem. Goodbye,” Dr. Hopper starts before she stops him, grabbing onto his arm. “Yes, Miss Swan?”

“Do you have the list of therapists that you were going to recommend for me?”

He smiles and nods his head up and down. “Ah, yes. Let me go get it from my office. Just a moment.”

“Why can’t you talk to Dr. Hopper like I do?” Henry questions, picking up Ada’s stuffed giraffe out of her seat. “He’s really nice.”

She squats down in front of Henry so that they’re eye level and reaches up to brush his hair out of his face. He needs to get it cut. “Dr. Hopper is really nice, but I have to talk to someone else like your dad does because Dr. Hopper is good at talking to kids like you.”

“Kind of like how you’re good with talking to the high schoolers?”

“Exactly like that.”

Dr. Hopper comes back in the room and hands her an envelope full of his recommendations, and she takes it. Neal had said she could always go to his therapist, especially since they’re all in the same building, but it doesn’t feel right to be going to the same person, even if that person would likely very intimately know all of the issues in their family. So she’ll try some of these people out.

Grabbing Ada’s car seat, she takes she and Henry out to the car, buckling them in and driving to West End to go to Ruth’s house for dinner. It’s always weird coming back here to the home that was her, well, first real home, and even though some of the rooms hold a hell of a lot of bad memories for her, they’ve been replaced with some good ones of Henry swinging on the playset and Killian meeting her mom for the first time.

-/-

“Your bedroom is very pink, Swan,” Killian teases her, running his hand over the floral bedspread while she is silently thankful that she was never too sentimental as a teenager and didn’t decorate her room with pictures of Justin Timberlake on the walls. Killian would literally never let that go.

“I did not decorate this place,” she insists, sitting down on her bed, the old springs creaking the slightest bit. “Ruth made it super bright and overly cheerly because she asked Mary Margaret for advice on how to make me more comfortable before I moved in.”

“Ah.”

“What?”

Killian clicks his tongue and reaches up to scratch behind his ear, his hair flopping over his forehead and curling at the ends. “Well, it seems to me that you sister-in-law, from the few times I’ve spoken to her, doesn’t exactly share the same tastes as you in things.”

“Some things overlap,” she admits, stretching out on the mattress and looking up at the ceiling. She used to count the patterns up there to fall asleep at night, and when that didn’t work, she’d sit on the window seat and look at the houses across the street. “And I do love her, even if it took some time for she and David to grow on me.”

“Please, don’t act like you and David weren’t always peas in a pod.”

“We weren’t,” she protests, propping herself up on her elbows and watching as Killian goes through the few books that are on the shelf. “David is, you know, up there closer to your age.” Killian doesn’t have to turn around for her know that he’s rolling his eyes. “And we didn’t really get along until I was seventeen and had snuck out of the house to meet with a guy who left me at a house party. I needed a ride home and was too scared to call Ruth.”

“So you called David, and he saved the day,” Killian finishes for her, stepping over to her and sitting on the edge of the mattress. “And thus started a friendship for the ages.”

“Pretty much,” she laughs.

Killian reaches back to tap at her stomach, nudging her and tickling her while she laughs. “That wasn’t very gentlemanly of that guy to leave you at a party.”

“He was seventeen. Most of them aren’t gentleman. I’m sure you weren’t.”

Killian huffs, the displeasure obvious in his voice, and before she can say something else he’s shifting on the bed and caging her in, their bodies tightly pressed together while their lips hover just over each other. She can feel the warmth of his breath and see the sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

“I am always a gentleman.”

“I know for a fact that’s not true. You’re pretty much a scoundrel.”

“A handsome one though.”

“Very,” she promises, reaching up to tangle her fingers through her hair while their lips slide over the other. He tastes a little bit like the tea he was drinking on the car ride over her, and even though she doesn’t like that tea, she doesn’t really care, especially because this makes her feel like a teenager…in all of the good ways.

“A handsome scoundrel and gentleman. That’s what I say on my business cards.”

“Shut up.” “Emma,” her mom calls, and she can practically feel his entire body tense over hers, “stop kissing your boyfriend and come eat your birthday dinner.” “I don’t know about you, Swan, but that made me feel rather young.”

It’s kind of like all of her worlds colliding sitting at a dinner table wither her mom, her brother, her sister-in-law, her son, and her boyfriend, but it’s nice. It’s nice that they all get along, that Killian feels comfortable to tease David and to compliment Ruth’s cooking and her stories about Emma and David when they were younger. He’s being the charming boyfriend that he always is, but she can tell that he’s a little nervous with the extra flattery and the tapping of his foot underneath the table. Killian isn’t really one to get nervous, so her heart kind of swells that he’s like this to meet her mom.

She was a mess when she met Liam, and they weren’t even dating then.

“Emma, will you come help me get your cake out of the fridge?”

“Sure,” she answers, sliding back in her chair, squeezing Killian’s shoulder. “Henry, you have to finish those green beans if you want this cake.”

“Really?”

“Really, they better be gone by the time that I get back.”

Henry groans, but she hears it stop as Killian says something to him, probably weaving some great tale to get Henry to eat his vegetables, and she can’t hide the smile that’s tugging up at the corner of her lips.

“He’s so handsome,” Ruth announces, and Emma practically jumps out of her skin.

“Holy crap,” she gasps, her heart beating a mile a minute in her chest. She has to press her hand over her heart while she tries to regulate her breathing. “Why’d you scare me like that?”

“I didn’t mean to, sweetie,” Ruth promises as she gets the cake out of the fridge all on her own. Why the hell did she think that her mom actually needed help getting the cake? That was obviously a bad excuse. “I was trying to talk to you about Killian. I love him.”

“I do too,” she admits, her heart beating quickly for an entirely different reason. “He’s nervous to meet you.” “Really? That man is nervous?”

She shrugs, her smile still on her lips. “I mean, yeah. He’s met David and Marg, but you’re the big fish.”

“And he’s also the first man you’ve brought home since Neal. Those are big shoes to fill.”

“Mom,” she starts, watching her place the candles in the cake, “that’s not what’s happening. He’s not…it’s different.”

“I know, I know. I didn’t mean it that way. It was difficult for me after David’s father died, but I was so much older. I wasn’t young like you with a baby. You were obviously going to date again. I didn’t mean – I didn’t mean that you were replacing Neal.”

“It’s fine,” she promises, reaching over to help light the candles to her birth cake, all twenty seven of them on there even if that’s far too many for one cake. “Let’s go see how much of this cake Henry is going to try to eat before we stop him.”

-/-

“Hello, my darlings,” Ruth sighs as they all walk into the door, hugging Henry before she hugs Emma. “I have missed you.”

“I saw you on Saturday, Grandma.”

“Well it doesn’t mean I haven’t missed you.”

“I missed you too. Can I go play with Wilby?”

“He’s in my bedroom.”

Henry runs through the back hallways, his coat flapping behind him, and she can do nothing more than shake her head back and forth at how much energy that kid has.

“Is Killian already here?” she asks Ruth, putting her purse down on the floor. “I know he said he was already on his way, but I haven’t checked my phone.” “He’s in the living room. We were sharing a cup of tea.”

“Of course you were,” she laughs, wrapping her arm around her mom’s waist as they walk through the halls to get to the living room. “How has your day been? How was that case going with the girl whose parents died?”

“My day was good, better now that my babies are here, but the case was hard. I think I’ve found a good foster home for her, though. You remember the Darlings?”

“Of course I do. They led me to you.”

Ruth doesn’t say anything else, just pats her on the back before taking Ada out of her arms and carrying her into the living room where Killian is messing with his phone. This place is covered with toys for infants and for ten-year-olds, and the moment Ruth puts Ada on the ground, she crawls over to a giant colorful keyboard that they also have at home. It’s been her favorite thing recently, and she’s not sure if she prefers the sound of it or the sound of Ada hitting pots and pans. She likes to really bang on them, and whenever there’s a particularly loud noise, her nose squishes into her face as it scrunches up while she laughs.

The little menace.

“Hey, handsome,” she gushes, dipping down to press her lips against his, lingering a little longer than she should. “Did you have a good day?”

“I had a day,” he chuckles awkwardly, kissing her again before she sits down on the couch next to him, their thighs pressing together. “Rob’s computer lost some data we had been working on, so I spent the day first trying to get IT to restore it and when that didn’t work, we had to try to replot all of our arguments.”

“Did you guys have a breach? Isn’t that a big deal?”

“Wasn’t a breach,” Killian sighs, reaching down to tickle Ada on the back while she pounds on the keys. “It was a computer failure. I’m sure Rob will have to undergo an investigation for it even though what we were doing was technically hypothetical, but as you know – ”

“- it’s never hypothetical,” she finishes for him.

“Pretty much. What about you?”

“Boring.”

“Yeah? No kids had a meltdown or forgot to turn in all of their applications?”

“Well that happens every day,” she laughs. It really does. It’s part of her life.

She likes it.

Ada slams down on a key, letting out a giggle, at the same time that David and Mary Margaret walk in the room.

“Woah, woah, woah,” David begins, reaching down and picking Ada up before blowing a giant raspberry on her stomach. “I didn’t know we had Mozart in the room. I would have worn my best suit.”

“I mean, I wasn’t going to say anything, but your suit is awful dingy, Dave.”

“Shut it, Jones. I’m talking to your child prodigy.”

“Well, she does have my genes so how could she not be one?” She rolls her eyes at him and pats his leg, but all he does is look at her with a satisfied smile. “Hello, Mary Margaret. Isn’t there a third Nolan somewhere?”

“He went to see Wilby,” she answers before leaning down to kiss Ruth.

“Wilby is the most important of all of us.”

“Except for Ada, of course,” Ruth adds in. “Now that everyone’s here, I say we eat.”

“It’s not like we came here for you, love.”

“Hey,” she scolds, reaching back to slap his chest even if she knows he’s teasing. He and Ruth have a fantastic relationship, so her mom is fine with all of it. But still. “You’re supposed to be a gentleman.”

Killian leans closer to her, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “I’m always a gentleman.”

“Good God, Jones,” David whines, “stop flirting with my sister.”

“I can’t help myself when she’s so damn pretty. Besides, I thought you yelled at me when I did stop flirting with her.”

The memories of that sting the slightest bit, but she knows that it’s over. Things between she and Killian still aren’t perfect, not that perfection is possible, and they spend a hell of a lot of time talking about it. But that’s a good thing. It’s helping for them to work on, well, them. And David has been such a supportive person for her ever since he helped her through her breakdown at Thanksgiving. Those few minutes still mean the world to her. She thinks that’s what’s helped keep her going through it.

“You’re right. You can keep flirting with her.”

“I plan to.”

#rising from the ashes #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic

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hookedonapirate · 5 years

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A Helping Hand

Summary: My girlfriend just dumped me and I’ve gotten piss drunk and somehow managed to get into your apartment instead of my own. I’m trying to masturbate my feelings away and boy were you surprised. Based on a Tumblr prompt that spiraled out of control.

A/N: Here it is, the last chapter before the epilogue! I'm so sad to finish this story and still completely baffled by the reception this story has had, but I am so grateful. Thank you all so much!

A huge thank you goes to @ilovemesomekillianjones for not only beta reading so quickly, but for putting up with all my typos. She is truly the best! Thank you for @onceuponaprincessworld because without her I probably would not have finished this fic. I also want to thank the Anon who had sent me this prompt in the first place; without her, this fic would not exist. And thank you for the lovely pm you sent me a while back to let me know who you are so I could thank you properly! This was supposed to be a one-shot and turned into so much more than either of us had ever imagined. I would also like to thank @daeneryskairipa for the gorgeous gif set she made for this story as my 2017 CS Secret Santa. If you haven’t seen it, check out the link below!

AHH Graphic

Rated: Mature for sex and salty language.

Also available: AO3 I FF.N

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11 Ch 12 Ch 13 Ch 14 Ch 15 Ch 16 Ch 17 Ch 18 Ch 19

Chapter 20: Happy Beginnings

After breakfast, the group split up for the day. Emma and Mary Margaret had planned for the ladies to spend the day along the Royal Mile, the heart of Edinburgh, for Elsa’s bachelor party. The bridesmaids gave her a sash that said Mrs. Captain Jones on the front, and she giggled when she saw it, and put it on before they left. They began at an extinct volcano and continued down a slope that was formed by the retreat of an ice age millions of years ago and was now the main street of the adjoining burghs of Edinburgh and Canongate. They visited a few of the significant landmarks, including the Edinburgh Castle, a world-famous attraction, and the Scottish Parliament for a tour of the building and its art collection, and to see parliament in debate. They had lunch in one of the restaurants down the Royal Mile and visited a few museums and shops, all while enjoying beautiful views across the city to the Firth of Forth, the estuary of several Scottish rivers.

Meanwhile, the men, including Leo, spent the afternoon competing in mini highland games. The group reconvened at the Lighthouse Hotel for the rehearsal dinner and afterward, Liam and Elsa said their goodbyes for the night with parting kisses, both of them giddy with excitement for the big day tomorrow. The ladies threw Elsa a small party in the hotel suite where the bridesmaids were wearing matching royal blue robes with their title for the wedding in pink letters on the back, and they drank wine and showered the bride with gifts and played some silly games.

The wedding day finally dawned, bringing a pandemonium of excitement through the hotel, and also a few minor hiccups along the way. But it was nothing a cool-headed bride, an over-exuberant wedding planner and eager to please groom could not handle, even if he were a bit of groomzilla. The soon to be married couple complemented each other, and usually, Elsa was the one talking Liam down or putting him in his place. He was the worry wart and she was the levelheaded of the two, the one who always had a way of calming him down to a normal, human level. However, even Elsa had a breaking point.

Emma ran frantically through the hall in her high heels and royal blue maid of honor dress, holding up the fabric so it didn't drag along the floor as she headed for the groom's suite, bursting through the door with one hand covering her eyes. She scrambled into the room shouting, “Where’s Mary Margaret?” while trying to catch her breath.

Liam and his groomsmen were startled, grumbling in complaint from the female intrusion. “Bloody hell, Emma, don’t you know how to knock?” Liam asked curtly.

Emma scoffed. “You're one to talk. You wouldn’t know how to knock if there was a sign on the door that had instructions on how to knock.” When she thought it was safe to do so, she peeked through a narrow slit between her fingers to see that everyone was decent - Liam was buttoning up his shirt and David tying the bow of Leo’s tux—and removed her hand.

“Aunt Em Em!” Leo shouted and ran over to Emma jumping into her arms as she scooped him up. “Hey, kiddo.” She gave her nephew a small smile and a peck on the cheek, but she knew she still looked anxious; she was afraid her friend would have a nervous breakdown before the wedding.

Killian was buttoning up his vest as he approached her, and of course, he looked adorable and handsome as always, with his black tux and blue vest that matched his mesmerizing eyes, his hair a bit untidy from running his hand through it over and over. And of course he was not opposed to her presence in the dressing room, but his smile fell when he saw the frantic look on her face. “What’s wrong, love?”

“There’s a wedding dress emergency,” Emma replied, setting Leo down. He was growing like a weed and getting heavy; soon he’d be too big for Emma to carry. “The zipper broke, so Elsa can’t zip up her dress at all, and she’s freaking out, afraid she’s going to have to walk down the aisle with her butt hanging out.” As she looked around the room, she could see the little smirk on Liam’s face; he was not opposed to the idea. “We need Mary Margaret, she will know what to do.”

“I’m not sure where she is, did you check our room?” David asked her.

"Yes, but she's not there." Emma let out an exasperated sigh. “Great, the wedding dress is defective, the bride’s a wreck and the wedding planner’s missing, what else could possibly go wrong? Not even her own sister can calm her down.” Emma placed her fingertips to her temple, rubbing them slowly to ease the headache blooming over her.

“Hey,” Killian murmured in a soothing tone as he came behind her and kissed the tip of her ear, massaging her shoulder with his one good hand, switching from one side to the other. Emma melted into his touch, able to calm down a bit. “Relax, we’ll find Mary Margaret, I’m sure she has a sewing kit.”

Emma shot David a questioning glance.

“Knowing my wife, she’s fully prepared for situations like this.” He extended his hand to his son. “Come on, Leo, let’s find your mother.” Leo took his hand and they headed for the door.

“Thank you,” Emma said appreciatively.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find her.” He flashed her a reassuring smile, somehow easing her nerves a bit, and left the room.

Emma's back slumped into Killian's chest as he wrapped his arms around her, reveling in the warmth he offered. Killian always knew how to calm her down, and right now the whole atmosphere of the wedding needed calmness.

“Come on, Killian, you can help me calm the bride down.” She took his hand and headed for the door.

“Oi, what about me?” Liam asked with a frown. “I am the groom.”

“It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding,” Emma told him and pulled Killian out of the room.

“But, love, if her own sister can’t calm her then what makes you think I can?” Killian asked in confusion.

Emma paused and turned around, cupping one of his cheeks in the hand which was not entwined with his. “Because, baby, you may only have one hand, but it works wonders.”

Killian didn’t bother to argue any further as he flashed a smug grin and allowed Emma to lead him to the bridal suite.

When they rushed through the door, Elsa was still in panic mode as she sat in her chair while Anna’s arm was around her sister’s shoulder as she planted a kiss to her temple, trying to calm her as Ruby applied Elsa’s makeup. Although, neither Ruby's nor Anna’s attempts were working very well. Elsa could not sit still and was squirming in her seat as Ruby sighed in frustration trying to hold her chin where she needed it in order to not fuck up her makeup.

Elsa moved her head away, her makeup only partly done as she looked at Killian and Emma. “Did you find Mary Margaret?”

“No, David went to look for her, but in the meantime, I brought the Best Man to help you relax.”

Elsa arched a brow, not in the mood to smile. “As much as I like you, Killian, I don't like you that much.”

Killian chuckled. “She didn’t mean it like that.” He went around and started massaging her shoulders.

Elsa’s tense body seemed to melt at Killian’s touch. His hand was magic like that. “Oooh, that is very relaxing,” she murmured and closed her eyes. Elsa was able to relax enough to allow Ruby to continue with applying her makeup. She added some final touches before handing the bride a hand mirror so she could study her reflection.

Elsa frowned, panic washing over her features. She had blood red lips and her face looked even paler than her normal complexion. “What did you do?"

Ruby frowned in confusion. "What do you mean? I made you look like a Queen, just like you wanted."

Elsa's eyes widened at her. "I said Ice Queen, not the White Queen!"

Ruby’s face flashed with apology. “Oh, sorry, I just thought the dark lips was what you wanted.”

“No, I wanted cool tones for my eyes and lips, like pale pinks and blues, not warm colors!” Elsa closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Alright, alright, I’ll redo it, it will be fine.” Ruby cleaned off Elsa’s makeup and retrieved some lighter colors from her cosmetic case.

Elsa kept looking into the mirror to make sure Ruby was doing her makeup to her satisfaction, critiquing every step and blurting out comments like, “Too much blush," “Not enough eyeshadow," and "Why are you using that color? It's too dark."

Ruby sighed and rolled her eyes. "Keep telling me how to do my job and I’ll make you look like a drag queen,” she warned with a sweet smile.

“Did someone ask for a sewing kit?” Mary Margaret's voice pulled their attention as the cheerful Nolan woman entered the room with a bright smile.

Elsa’s eyes widened when she saw the kit in her hands. “You have one?”

“Well of course. What kind of Wedding Planner would I be if I didn’t have a sewing kit handy?”

Elsa sighed in relief. “Thank you, you're a lifesaver.”

Killian stepped away, letting Mary Margaret stand behind the bride as she stood up, allowing Mary Margaret to assess the damage as she pursed her lips together. She tinkered with the zipper a little before concluding, “Well the bad news is there’s nothing I can do about the zipper…”

“And the good news?” Elsa asked impatiently in a panicked tone.

“The good news is I can sew the dress together but it won’t be very easy to get out of. You’ll have to cut the thread to get the dress off.”

Elsa sighed. “Fine, do what you need to do to so my ass isn’t hanging out of my dress when I walk down the aisle,” Elsa bit out in frustration.

Emma took her friend's hand to soothe her. “Don’t worry, MM knows what she’s doing, just relax," she said in a calming tone as her hand soothed Elsa’s.

Ruby snickered and everyone glanced at her, wondering what was so funny. "I’m sure getting out of the dress will be no problem for Elsa, Liam could just rip the dress off himself. He has strong hands."

That remark earned a scowl from Elsa. "Talk about my groom's hands again and you won't have any,” she shot back.

Ruby frowned. “At least spare one of my hands, I can still work with that.” She shot Killian a mischievous smirk. “Lord knows Killian has learned to work with what he’s got.”

“Alright, enough of the offhanded comments,” Mary Margaret interjected, and the other women snickered.

Killian groaned. “That's enough hand jokes, aye?” Then his frown turned into a smirk as he pulled Emma into his arms and kissed her cheek. “Besides, I don’t have to try very hard, do I, sweetheart?”

Emma shook her head and blushed as a small laugh tumbled from her lips. “No, you don’t.”

Ruby returned to her task of working on a grumpy Elsa’s makeup. “Just relax, Elsa, I don’t feel like losing my hands today. Besides, if I had no hands then who would do your makeup? Believe me, with your attitude, you're going to have a hard time finding anyone else.”

Elsa closed her eyes in regret. ”I’m sorry, I’m just very tense, and normally Liam knows how to calm me down.”

“Why don’t I get him for you, lass?” Killian offered.

Elsa's eyes flipped open in surprise. “Yes, please,” she sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

“No!” the other women all shouted at once.

“It’s bad luck-”

“Then cover his eyes with a blindfold, I don’t care, just bring him to me!” Elsa shouted, and no one bothered to argue with her. Very seldom, Elsa raised her voice. So when she did, everyone knew not to mess with her.

“I’ll get him,” Emma offered and left the room in a flash to fetch the groom. She dashed into the men’s dressing room as Liam flashed her a questioning look. “Were you able to find Mary Margaret?”

“Yeah, she’s going to sew Elsa into the dress.”

Liam sighed in relief, and without any preamble, Emma undid his tie and started wrapping it around his head. He stepped back, putting his hands up in a defensive pose. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you doing lass?”

“Elsa asked for you,” Emma replied without any further explanation.

Still, he allowed her to tie the fabric around his eyes. “I always knew you were kinky.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “You have no idea,” she mumbled.

“What?” he asked, dragging the blindfold from his eyes.

She laughed. “The blindfold is supposed to affect your vision, not your hearing. It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.”

“Well, can I at least see on the way to the bridal suite?”

Emma sighed and grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the room. “Fine, but before we reach the door, it goes back on.”

“Such a demanding thing, aren’t you?”

Emma scoffed at that. “Again, the pot calling the kettle black,” she teased and rushed him to the Bridal Suite.

Emma opened the door and peeked her head through. “The groom’s here, can you turn Elsa around, please?” She pulled the blindfold over Liam’s eyes and pulled him into the room when Elsa was facing away from them. Ruby pulled the train of Elsa’s dress to the side so Mary Margaret could have room to work on the back opening of the gown without worrying about stepping on the gorgeous skirts of Elsa’s dress.

“Liam?” Elsa called to her groom.

“I’m here, darling,” he said in a soothing tone as Emma led him to her.

“Can someone hold the dress together?” Mary Margaret asked.

“I’ll do it,” Liam replied quickly and Emma guided his hands to the material, and he held the opening of her dress closed while Mary Margaret sewed. With his finger and thumb securing the fabric together, he raised his other hand to Elsa’s lace covered shoulder and offered soft endearments to her. Elsa instantly relaxed and placed her hand on top of his.

“Everything’s going to be alright, love,” he assured her, taking her hand in his. We are going to be married by the end of the day, and none of this is going to matter.”

The women swooned as he continued to ease Elsa’s worries with his soft, encouraging words, and in no time Mary Margaret was finished with the dress.

“There, all done.”

Elsa visibly sighed in relief, as though a huge weight was lifted from her shoulders. “Thank you.”

Mary Margaret moved out of the way with her supplies, and Liam wrapped his arms around his bride, planting a kiss to her shoulder blade.

“I love you, Elsa.”

“I love you, too.”

It was a beautiful sight to behold as he held his bride in his arms, melting all of her fears and worries away.

“Oh hell, let them see each other before the wedding,” Mary Margaret said. “We’ll give you two some privacy.” Emma agreed, and the bride and groom did not appear to be opposed, so Emma removed the blindfold.

His eyes widened, a big smile taking over his lips as Elsa turned around, also flashing him a grin. She took his breath away as his eyes scanned her beautiful form. The dress was not the traditional white and instead was a pale blue, but she looked no less gorgeous in it.

The others left to give them some privacy, and Mary Margaret went off to check on the current status of things, making sure everything was in order for the wedding.

Killian pulled Emma in his arms once they were left alone. “Finally, we have a quiet moment,” he said with a smirk. Emma blushed and smiled as he kissed her lips, reveling in her taste. “Have I told you how exquisite you look in that dress?”

She ran her hands down the lapels of his tuxedo jacket with devilry in her eyes. “No, but maybe you could show me later?” she offered with a lascivious grin.

Killian arched a brow, intrigued by her proposal. “I can’t wait, love.” He pulled her to him and buried his face in the crook of her shoulder, peppering soft kisses to her neck. Emma laughed, his trimmed beard tickling her skin.

Ten minutes later, the women were back in the room when the minister knocked on the door to announce the ceremony was about to begin. The bridesmaids and maid of honor gathered around the bride, hugging her and wiping the tears from their eyes.

Soon, Anna and Elsa’s Aunt Ingrid entered the room. She gathered her nieces into a hug before cupping the bride’s cheeks in her hands, a look of pride in her eyes. “So beautiful, just like your mother,” she commented, her eyes welling up with tears. “Are you ready to be walked down the aisle?”

Elsa had a smile on her face and nodded without hesitation, finally ready to walk down the aisle; there was nothing that could bring her down now. And since Elsa’s parents passed away long ago, Ingrid had always been more like a parent than an aunt, so they only saw it fitting for Ingrid to walk Elsa down the aisle.

~*~

“Are you ready, brother?” Killian asked an anxious Liam, patting him on the shoulder.

Liam inhaled deeply, his shoulders rising as he adjusted his tie. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” He turned and looked at his brother. “How do I look?”

Killian rested his hands on Liam’s shoulders. “Relax, you look fine, Liam.”

Liam frowned. “Just fine?”

“You look like you’re ready to get on with this shindig,” Killian clarified with a laugh. “And also handsome,” he smirked and added, “but not as devilishly handsome as me.��

Liam rolled his eyes. “How did I know you were going to say that?” He took another deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. “I can’t wait for this day to be over with. Does that make me a bad groom?”

Killian shook his head, another chuckle leaving his lips. “No, it just means you can’t wait for your’s and Elsa’s lives to begin.”

Liam grinned from ear to ear at the idea, his blue eyes lighting up. “Exactly.” He drew Killian into a bear hug. “Thank you, brother, for being here with me every step of the way… even if I have been a royal pain in the arse.”

Another laugh tore through Killian’s throat as the two men patted each other on the back. “I’d take my royal pain in the arse brother over no brother at all,” he murmured sincerely. “I love you, Liam”

“I love you too, brother.”

They broke apart, and soon it was time for them to enter the ceremony from the side and join the minister at the altar as Liam waited for his bride in heightened anticipation.

The ceremony was an enchanting affair for an enchanting couple, beginning with the bridal party walking down the aisle in pairs. The chairs were square, each one adorned with a silver cover and royal blue ribbon which wrapped around and tied in the back with silver and light blue roses. There was an archway made of silver leaves and a mixture of light blue and royal blue flowers. Bouquets of royal blue and light blue accented with crystals, stephanotis and blue Picasso Calla Lilies were set out on the ends of each aisle in long, tall vases made from real crystal, and there was a pianist in the corner playing live music.

Emma entered the room, carrying her bouquet as she walked down the aisle alone, following behind Anna and Kristoff with a brilliant smile that showed off those pearly white teeth as she made eye contact with Killian.

Gods, she looked gorgeous, he thought to himself, and even more so when he winked at her, making her cheeks flush with an adorable shade of pink.

She never tore her eyes away from him though, only smirked when she reached the other side of the altar. Leo wandered down the aisle with a ring bearer pillow holding the rings and then the flower girl, who was a second cousin of Elsa and Anna’s threw one blue petal at a time, and everyone laughed as she dumped the rest of the petals at the end of the aisle. The bridal party stood in their positions, the bridesmaids holding their bouquets. The bridal chorus cued and all the guests stood and turned to watch as Elsa entered with her Aunt Ingrid. Killian glanced at Liam, and the look on his face was priceless. Even though Liam had seen her prewedding, he was still blown away and waited for his bride with bated breath. When Liam had seen her before the wedding, Elsa was a nervous wreck, but now… now she had a giddy, carefree smile on her face as she locked eyes with her groom. The spark between them was undeniable, and Killian’s heart warmed knowing his brother had picked the most perfect woman to spend the rest of his life with. She was stunning, and looked like an exquisite ice queen.

Elsa kissed Ingrid's cheek and joined her groom at the altar still donning a bright smile as they exchanged the vows they had written for each other, telling everyone how they had met and how they had fallen in love, not leaving a dry eye in the place by the time they said their I do’s .

Through a watery gaze, Killian looked over at Emma, who was wiping tears from her eyes, and he could hear the sniffles of the guests throughout the room. When the rings were exchanged and the minister announced them, husband and wife, Liam kissed his bride as everyone cheered, and off the happy couple went down the aisle.

The day was bright and clear when the bridal party made it outside for photos, and even though it was a little chilly, it was nothing to deter them from having the photos taken out on the edge of the cliff with the beautiful mountains as their backdrop as well as at the top of the lighthouse.

The reception was held in the banquet hall with an open bar, raided by the guests before they sat at their assigned tables. The bridal party sat at the Head Table and Killian took the microphone and stood to give his speech.

"For those of you who don’t know me, I am the more devilishly handsome and wittier Jones brother,” he quipped, and immediately received a playful eye roll from Liam. “What can I say about Liam?" he asked and then held up a finger as though an idea struck him suddenly. "Ah, yes…" He reached inside his suit jacket and retrieved a folded piece of paper, which was blank, but he pretended to read from it. “Liam Jones is a great man, he is selfless, he's kind... he’s honorable." Killian paused and looked at Liam pointing at the piece of paper. "Liam, you spelled handsome wrong," he spoke loudly, “you forgot the d,” and everyone laughed, including Liam who shook his head. Killian returned his attention to the guests. "And apparently he can't spell correctly, even when writing about himself."

"Haha, very funny," Liam teased with a bashful grin.

Killian cleared his throat as he tucked the paper away and looked at his brother, lifting his hand to his shoulder. "No, but seriously, Mum would have been so proud of you if she were alive today,” he said sincerely and looked toward the audience again. “Ever since we were kids, Liam has always been there for me… when we lost our mum, when our dad walked out on us, when we were in the navy together, when I lost my hand, and even when we weren't on such great terms." He looked at Emma and smiled. "There was a time, believe it or not when I did not have great taste in women, unlike my brother here." Killian gestured to Emma, "I’m clearly not speaking of my lovely girlfriend, Emma."

Emma smiled and blushed, and Liam nodded, not willing to argue with him there.

"He warned me about this other lass, who shall remain nameless. Tried to tell me she wasn't good enough for me, and I should've listened… but alas, I was a stubborn arse, just like my brother here, and so I got my heart stomped on by said woman. To make matters worse, I was an alcoholic at the time, so I tried to drink my sorrows away, and then one day I decided to get out of bed and pick my pride up off the floor to call Liam. After I told him what had happened, he could’ve said he’d told me so or he could've just hung up on me, but he didn’t. Instead, he told me to pack my bloody things, get my arse on a plane and fly as far away from that devil of a woman as I possibly could. And I said to him, where am I gonna go? You're all I've got, brother. And that's when I knew those were the magic words to Liam's heart, because after he so lovingly told me to go to hell," Killian paused, allowing the guests to laugh before continuing, “he said, you're staying with me, whether you like it or not. So that's exactly what I did. I got on a plane and literally stumbled through my brother's door. I dropped my luggage off before stumbling over to a bar and then, later on, I stumbled into my neighbor’s apartment and one of the occupants came home,” he added with a smirk, “boy was she surprised." He winked at Emma while the audience laughed.

“I ended up making said occupant my girlfriend, but that's a story for a different time. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, when I was at my worst," Killian held up his prosthetic hand, "and yes, it was worse than getting my hand blown off in the Navy…" he joked, prompting another spur of laughs from the crowd, "Liam offered me his home, got me a job and helped me get on my feet again. He has always taken care of me, despite how angry we were with each other or how much more handsome I’ve always been than him" he said, emphasizing the d, "and how much I beat him at arm wrestling, even with one hand."

Liam rolled his eyes but was smiling at the same time.

"And Elsa, well… I don't think it needs to be said, but I'll say it anyway… Elsa, I am so glad Liam found someone to put the royal pain in the butt in his place. I could not have chosen a better sister-in-law if I had picked her myself." Killian went over to Elsa and they exchanged chaste kisses on the cheek.

"Thank you, Killian," she smiled.

"Liam… Elsa…” Liam took the microphone, holding it up for Killian so he could raise his glass. “To a lifetime of love and happiness.”

"Thank you, brother," Liam said appreciatively, patting his brother on the back.

Everyone drank to the toast, and Liam passed the microphone to Emma as she stood up.

“Hi, I am Emma, the Maid of Honor and also one of Elsa’s best friends. So, the story of how I met Elsa is pretty ordinary,” Emma began. “Elsa was looking for a place to live, I was looking for a roommate and the rest is history. But little did I know at the time, our friendship would be so much more than ordinary. I can’t tell you how many days we have known each other, but I can tell you, there was never a day when Elsa wasn't there for me. She is like the sister I never had and while we were roommates, we borrowed each other’s things without asking, we got after each other for borrowing each other’s things, I would break into her boyfriend’s apartment to borrow things from him—you know the typical sisterly stuff," she quipped before adding, "but then I didn't have to break in because I started dating his brother." She looked at Elsa and Liam who were both laughing and offered a sweet smile. "But before that, I had the advantage of witnessing these two fall in love. I remember how Elsa would come home with a great big smile on her face after running into our British neighbor who had moved in across the hall, and I remember how he came to me one day to ask for advice about how to ask Elsa out. If it were any other guy, I probably would've told Elsa to run away and never come back," Emma laughed, "but I knew Liam was different and I'm so glad I trusted my instincts. It was such a privilege to be there for them every step of the way while they slowly fell in love with one another.” Emma’s eyes welled up with tears as Liam took Elsa’s hand, and she could tell they were also on the verge of tears.

“And now they're both moving out and getting a place of their own. But I'm not worried because there is no distance that could keep us apart." She looked over at Elsa who was smiling back at her. "You will always be like a sister to me," Emma said sincerely and turned her attention to the audience. "And if there is one thing I have learned about my good friend, Elsa… it's to never keep a secret from her because you’ll regret it. Elsa will never judge you, she is warm and kind and forgiving… and no, she did not tell me to say these things,” she joked with a small smile. “She is really perfect for Liam because for those of you who don’t know him very well, I will be the first to say it—he is an OCD control freak.” Emma paused as everyone burst into laughter. “Elsa is the only one on God’s green earth who can sweeten his bitter ways. That's why he takes his coffee black and why we never hear him complain about Elsa hogging the blankets, even though we know she does… it's because she's sweeter than any creamer and she's warmer than any blanket he would need. He's the whiskey to our glass and she's the Coke with the cherry garnish. He's the peanut butter to our bread and she's the strawberry jam. Alone they can be a bit overbearing—well Liam can be at least," she corrected with a smirk, and Liam scowled playfully, "but together they are the perfect combination. In fact, being friends with these two is like going skydiving… only instead of jumping off the plane when you’re ready, Liam throws you the parachute and pushes you off when you refuse to jump.” Everyone cracked up, and Emma continued when the laughter died down. “And Elsa is the parachute that softens the landing.”

The audience cheered and clapped as Elsa looked up at Emma with tears in her eyes.

“I love you both, and it is with great honor that I raise my glass to you...” Emma lifted her glass to Elsa and then to Liam, “to you...” before raising her glass higher to both of them, “to your happy beginning… and to happily ever after.” They clinked their glasses and drank, and Emma handed off the microphone to the announcer as Elsa stood to hug her.

“Thank you, Emma, that was very sweet.”

“It was only the truth,” Emma assured her.

Liam took his turn and drew Emma into a hug, kissing her cheek as Killian looked over at her with pride in his eyes. “Great speech, Emma.”

“Aye, you nailed it, love,” Killian added

Emma smirked and kissed her boyfriend's cheek. “I know.”

After they all had their turn at the buffet, it was time for the cake, which looked way too good to eat. It had three tiers and royal blue frosting, decorated with silver sugar pearls to make it look like it was frosted with snow. Liam and Elsa cut the cake before shoving it in each other’s faces. They had their first dance as husband and wife before everyone else joined in. The group took turns dancing with each other in pairs, and Leo got to dance with Aunt Em Em, and finally, Emma got a chance to dance with her boyfriend. He spun her around and dipped her, spurring on a gale of giggles. The reception was a blast, and soon, it was time for Elsa to toss the bouquet, which Emma caught. Killian made sure to snag the garter belt after Liam flung it in the air, and he promptly slid it up Emma’s leg.

They sent the bride and groom off in a decorated limousine. And from there, the newly married couple would head to the airport and leave for their honeymoon in Bali. Emma and Killian went back to their hotel in Glasgow that night, and were so exhausted they went straight to bed and fell asleep in each other’s arms. While the rest of the group had to get back to the States, Emma and Killian spent a few more days in Scotland before they headed home. Luckily they had a different flight attendant who didn't hit on Emma’s boyfriend.

~*~

The next couple of months flew by, probably because they were very eventful, with Elsa and Liam moving into their new home, Killian and Emma moving his things into her place, both couples buying new furniture and of course the holidays they all spent together. Because Elsa and Liam were still in the process of unpacking at the time, the group spent Christmas at the Nolan’s, and then Liam and Elsa hopped on a plane to visit Anna and Kristoff for New Years, while Emma and Killian spent the days leading up to it painting their bedroom, which had been Emma’s when she had lived with Elsa, but they both decided pink wasn’t the best color, just like the pink, fluffy pillows and pink furniture needed to go as well.

They both wanted to make their new home theirs. And since they moved Emma’s bed into Elsa’s old room, and since Killian’s bed frame was so old they literally broke the bed, they were waiting to get a new frame once they were done painting their room (although they started playing around when Killian told her she missed a spot on the wall and they ended up getting more paint on themselves than they did on the wall that day and cleaned off together in the shower). They spent New Year’s Eve in Times Square watching the ball drop since Killian had never experienced anything like it before. As fun as it was, the weather was bitter cold and they spent a lot of time waiting for the ball to drop since they had to arrive very early to retain their spot, they agreed to spend the next New Year's Eve at home.

Superbowl Sunday was at Liam and Elsa’s house, and the couple was more than happy to host their first party after they had made the desired changes and redecorated the home to their liking. Liam, of course, wasted no time to make sure the house was picture perfect. Although it was nowhere near finished, for he planned on fixing up the basement and garage and planned on building a backyard deck in the spring.

The next day, Emma had to drag herself out of bed; she felt like crap even though she and Killian had no alcohol. She had explained to the gang she was refraining from alcohol to support Killian’s sobriety, but what she didn't tell them was the other reason she hadn’t drank…

Emma sat on the toilet seat, waiting in anticipation as she stared at the white stick in her hand, not able to peel her eyes away, as though the pregnancy test would catch on fire if she looked away. She couldn’t believe she forgot her birth control pills while she was in Scotland. She never forgot to take them and didn’t even realize she hadn’t until after she and Killian had arrived home. She didn't think she could get pregnant from going a few days without them until she ended up vomiting yesterday morning. And it couldn't have been the food she ate the night prior when she was babysitting Leo considering he didn't get sick, although he was recovering from the flu.

When only one line remained, Emma breathed a sigh of relief. She and Killian had talked about having kids someday, but she knew they weren’t ready yet. They’d only been dating for eight months, she loved their life and didn’t want anything to change just yet. But a tiny part of her—okay maybe an even larger part of her—ached in disappointed at the fact that she was not pregnant. It turned out she'd gotten the flu from Leo.

~*~

One week later

“Okay, I can’t take it anymore, what’s the surprise?” Emma asked as Killian took her hand and led her through their apartment. “And why am I wearing my bathrobe for such a surprise?” Only moments ago, she was wearing a black dress and heels for her birthday dinner that she had carefully chosen when Killian told her he was taking her out to a nice dinner and dancing. Now she was in her bra and panties and a bathrobe per Killian’s request. She was also wearing a blindfold as he took her to his desired destination.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, love.”

Emma sighed, but allowed him to lead the way, and soon she felt the cold, tiled floor under her feet, which meant they were in the kitchen, because why would they be in the….

Killian lifted the blindfold, and to her utter confusion, they were in their bathroom, and it was currently lit by scented candles which covered the bathroom countertop.

Emma raised a brow as she looked at Killian, who was also in nothing but his bathrobe. “Why is this such a surprise?”

Killian smirked at her with those smoldering blue eyes that told her he was up to no good, and he pulled at the belt of his robe, untying it. He let the cotton fabric fall to the floor and got into the tub naked. It wasn't even filled with water.

“What are you doing?” Emma was even more perplexed

Killian reclined back, leaning his head against the tiled wall as he waved his hand around him. “Doesn’t this look familiar to you?”

Emma planted her hands on her hips and pursed her lips, thinking about his question for a moment. Killian was lying in the tub naked, which of course was how she had found him nine months ago. “This is how we met... sort of.” She crossed her arms and smirked. “Only you were jerking off if I do recall.”

Killian nodded, blush coloring his cheeks as he gave a small smile. “I was, but that was a different time in my life. Milah had just broken up with me, and my brother and I were not on speaking terms. But you, my love, you found me in this exact spot.” His features grew serious as he continued. “I was a shattered mess... and you accepted me even when I was at my worst.”

Emma smiled, her eyes pricking with tears. She climbed into the tub and straddled him in the cramped space. Killian sat up and wrapped his arms around her back as she cupped his cheeks in her hands.

“You were adorable,” she laughed.

“I was a hot mess,” he tried to correct her, his eyes clouding with regret and embarrassment as he lowered his eyes.

“An adorable hot mess,” she added with a small smirk and lifted his face so she could gaze into those bright blue eyes she had swooned over even during their first encounter. “I can’t say I would have pictured us getting together at the time, you did throw up in my hair,” she reminded him.

Killian blushed deeper, and his expression was still full of regret, but at least she got a small smile out of him. “Sorry, love, it wasn’t exactly my finest hour, was it?”

Emma shook her head. “Nope.”

Killian’s smile widened a bit. “And yet, you're still here with me.”

She smiled brightly. “That's true, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Me neither.” Killian bit his bottom, and he looked nervous about something, although she didn’t know why. “In fact, I always want you here with me, love, no matter what.”

Emma arched a brow. “Here in the bathtub?”

Killian chuckled and shook his head. “No, in my life.” He glanced above Emma, and she lifted her head to see what he was looking at. “Could you hand me that, love?”

Her eyebrow only seemed to rise higher toward her hairline. “You mean the loofah?”

“Aye.”

“Okaaay,” she answered skittishly, studying him cautiously. “But if you plan on taking a bath, you kind of need water and soap to do that.” Emma grabbed the loop of the loofah and removed it from the hook it was hanging on. Glancing at it, she noticed something silver and shiny sitting at the bottom of the loop. Her mouth fell open as she stared at the large diamond.

“No, I plan on asking you to marry me.”

Emma was too stunned to speak as she gaped at the ring with wide eyes.

Killian took the loofah from her hands and removed the engagement ring, holding it up for her. “Will you marry me, Emma?”

She gazed at him in shock, seeing the glint in his eyes as he awaited her answer.

“Love?” His face fell slightly in concern, and she knew what her answer was, she just didn't have the strength to say it at first.

Finally, a smile blossomed over her lips and she blurted her answer out in a choked sob. “Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I will marry you,” she laughed, a tear streaming down her cheek.

Killian sighed in relief, a big smile spreading across his lips. His eyes were buzzing with excitement as he drew her in for a kiss, his hand sliding through her hair as he breathed her in. “Love, you scared me for a moment,” he murmured, resting his forehead against hers.

“Sorry, I was just surprised.” She stuck out her hand, and he slipped the ring on her finger. “I love you, Killian, of course, my answer is yes.” She giggled and cupped his cheeks in her hands.

“I love you, too, Emma.”

Pure bliss took over them as she crushed his lips with hers and they kissed with everything they felt for each other. She would never grow tired of kissing this man’s lips, she never grew tired of how he smelled or how he tasted, how he bit her bottom lip and groaned in her mouth when she slipped her tongue against his. The kiss ignited a fiery spark between them and quickly intensified, similar to how a flame reacted to gasoline. Emma removed her robe, tossing it to the floor, along with her bra and panties, and they made love in the tub, both of them finding blissful release in each others’ arms before collapsing. Killian laid on his back, resting his head on the edge of the tub and Emma laid her head on his chest, their limbs entangled as they struggled to catch their breaths.

It took a few minutes of calming her heart rate before she was able to speak again. “Can I ask you something?” she asked, running her fingers through his chest hair and taking his naval charms in her hand to admire them as she often enjoyed doing.

“Of course, love.”

She looked up at him, gazing warmly into his eyes. “You still don't remember anything from that night, do you?”

Killian took a long breath as he thought about her question. “I remember being at the bar, but that’s it.”

Emma nodded and bit her bottom lip. “It’s really strange because I was only gone for not even ten minutes. I left my apartment and headed downstairs. It’s amazing we didn’t see each other before I found you in the tub.”

“You were only gone for ten minutes?”

“Yeah, I was in a tank top and a pair of grey shorts, you know the shorts I always wear when I don’t plan on going out in public.”

Killian grinned salaciously and ran his tongue over his lips as he skimmed his fingers up her arm. "Are you kidding? How could I forget those shorts? I'm just surprised I don't at least remember you wearing them that night."

Emma nodded. "There are many little mysteries from that night I wonder about."

"Like what, love?

“Like why you decided to jerk off in the tub," Emma laughed.

Killian shrugged. "Not sure, but if I had to guess, I'd say I took the elevator up to our floor and got a peek of you in those shorts as you took the stairs down to the laundry room without noticing me, and I decided to take matters into my own hand once I got home. This bathroom is where my bedroom was in Liam's apartment so I probably mistook the tub for my bed. Once I realized it was indeed not my bed, I was probably too trashed to care,” he mused with a solemn expression and a weak smile. “So, I thought of you in those lovely shorts to avoid thinking about my bleedin' heart."

Emma nodded and smirked at the idea. "That sounds like a reasonable explanation. If only it were true."

"I guess we'll never know."

Emma shrugged. "Guess not."

They were silent after that, and eventually, they moved to the bedroom and he scooped her in his arms under the covers with only the light of the moon aiding their vision.

Her mind was frazzled with thoughts, and she decided to tell him about how she had thought she was pregnant a week ago, and how she didn’t tell him then because she didn’t want to get his hopes up before she knew for sure. Killian was shocked, but told her he’d love any baby they have. Emma agreed.

“I have to say I was a little disappointed when I found out the test was negative,” she confessed.

“Don’t worry, love, we’ll have babies when the time is right,” he assured with a small smile as he stroked her cheek.

A thought occurred to her suddenly and she laughed as her face heated up with blush. "Just think, when we do have children someday we'll have to tell them the story of how we met, you know when they're old enough."

"I suppose you're right," he chuckled.

She looked at him to see him also blushing. "You wouldn't be too embarrassed to tell them?"

"Perhaps a little, but, as long as I get to tell it with you, I’d be a very happy man.”

Emma looked up at her sentimental fiance—wow, she'd have to get used to calling him that—with pride. She was so grateful she had met him, even if they did meet under less than ordinary circumstances. Now, nine months later, they lay in each other's arms, engaged to be married. Another unbidden thought occurred to Emma and she snorted out loud, clapping her hand over her mouth.

Killian peered down at her with a raised brow. “Love? Care to share what's so funny?”

Emma shook her head, her face beet red. “Sorry, I was thinking… we’ll have to tell our friends how you proposed bare ass naked. Liam will make fun of you, for sure.”

Killian blushed profusely and scratched behind his ear. “Aye, I guess when I came up with such a brilliant idea, I clearly didn’t think it over thoroughly."

Emma shook her head and laughed as she cupped his cheeks in her hands. “No, you didn’t. That’s okay, I love you anyway,” she teased with a wink.

"I love you too, Emma, and I'd take endless joking and teasing from my brother than a lifetime without you," he professed sincerely, carressing her cheek. Emma's heart fluttered at his words, and she smiled, her eyes shining with tears. "As I've told you many times before… I never wanted just part of you, I want the whole thing. So if that means we have to tell our children how we met and our friends how I proposed, so be it.”

Her smile broadened as she remembered fondly the first time he had told her that, when he had refused to take advantage of her for one night of passion. It still melted her heart, to this day. Emma nuzzled his nose softly with hers, whispering to him gently, “You'll always have the whole thing with me... I promise." She sealed her promise with a kiss.

@acaptainswaneternity @basful-Killian @deathbycaptainswan @dragon-princess @onceuponaprincessworld @artistic-writer @resident-of-storybrooke@wordsmith-storyweaver @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @andnothinghurts @slimacwrites @onceuponaswanscastle @piratesbooty63fan @idristardis @ladyciaramiggles @truefangirl97 @t-tamm- @wellhellotragic @takhisismb @winterbaby89 @julesep3026 @jennjenn615 @swanjonescaptain @cynmoon @mayquita @kday426 @jennjenn615 @shady-swan-jones @teamhook @andiirivera @ultraluckycatnd @hooked2kill @truefangirl97 @its-about-bloody-time-cs @fleurreads @roterteufel11 @hey-it-is-jess @hookslovelyswan @coliferoncer @m98h @hungrywhovianpotterheadfrom221b @all3ofthatcrap @kgchambe @olliemarch @dmitriy30 @fhel09-blog @missclois86 @greys-shepherdland @animatedshorts @pinkbonesforeverblog @buckybarnex @captainswan-shipper88 @iminwinnipegthatsincanada @killylovesemma @myideaaofperfect @julieta-tas @roterteufel11 @rere105 @bethacaciakay @unmotivated-trashcan @aeinhorn12 @wanderlust1990 @121101chara @swanderful1 @thesavior-and-thepirate @densi-captainswan @myprincess-myemma-mypirate @lostprincessofatlantica @troiansbeautynz @trishnelle84 @micharah @captainvintage-and-cupcakes

#cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan #frozen jewel wedding #a helping hand #my fic

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mayquita · 5 years

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Pictures of Reality - Epilogue

Hi everyone! I can’t believe that we have reached the last stage of this journey, but yes, this is the final chapter. I’d like to express my gratitude one last time to all of you for your comments, kudos, likes, reviews and reblogs. Thank you so so much.

Summary: Emma Swan returns to her birthplace, Storybrooke, in search of a fresh start after a life marked by abandonment and betrayal. After a year there, she finds the stability she needed and also the possibility of learning about one of her passions, photography. Killian Jones, a former British war reporter with a tragic past, establishes himself in the same town as an instructor of photography, following in the footsteps of his best friends, the Nolans. What will happen when their paths cross? Will their common passion for photography help them heal old wounds?

Rating: M (Language, mature themes, implied sex)

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, mentions of the loss of a limb in an armed conflict.

Other ships / Characters: Although, obviously, this is a cs fic, Snowing plays a major role here, mainly David. In fact, the story contains three different points of view, those of Emma, Killian and David. Also, Henry appears in the story as Regina’s adopted son but he is not Emma’s biological son.

Beta: I’d like to express my gratitude, as always, to my beta @jarienn972 I’m aware that you have had to deal with a monster of more than 100k words and English is not my mother tongue, so I value your effort even more.

Artist / art: Go visit @imagnifika’s blog and enjoy her amazing art. There are two arts accompanying this chapter, the first one includes a moment that happens at the beginning. Regarding the second one, I'm putting it at the end, for reasons. That art is special for me because I made a request to Kate and she made her magic in no time and create that amazing edit. Thank you so much.

Art for the prologue/ Art for chapter 1 / Art for chapter 2 and banner / Art for chapter 3/ Art for chapters 4-5 / Art for chapters 6-7/ Art for chapter 8 / Art for chapter 10 / Art for chapter 11 / Art for the epilogue

Special mention to @saraswans , thank you so much for your perpetual support, for believing in me when I doubted myself and for offering ideas to make this story grow. Another special mention to @onceuponaprincessworld , It has been a pleasure to chat with you throughout these months :)

Don’t forget to go read and enjoy the rest of the amazing csbb stories and art.

Word count: ~ 8400 (116k total in 16 chapters)

Also on (From the beginning): Ao3 / Ffnet (Current Chapter) Ao3 / Ffnet

Tumblr: Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

What to expect from this chapter? We’re celebrating Emma’s new birthday… and more…

EPILOGUE

Emma Swan. Storybrooke - October 23, 2018

Even though Killian was waiting for her in the living room, Emma took her time to study her reflection in the bathroom mirror. On the day of her twenty-ninth birthday, she looked exactly like the day before.

Well, that's not entirely true, she thought as she pursed her lips as if to throw a kiss. Since today was her special day, she had pushed herself with her physical appearance, having every intention of leaving her boyfriend bewitched the moment she made her entrance.

Her eyes seemed bigger and the green color brighter thanks to the discreet dusting of eyeshadow that she had applied and just the right amount of mascara. Her lips were an invitation to be kissed and her hair fell in soft golden waves over one of her shoulders, just the way he liked.

True, it was her birthday, she should be the one who received special attention. Killian also didn't need any push to, well, satisfy her in every way, but she enjoyed this game of seduction and already knew in advance that her boyfriend was going to spend the whole evening thinking about the best way to get rid of that dress and have his way with her. If she played her cards well, that might happen even earlier than expected.

Indeed, the chosen dress was perfect for her plans, she checked as she turned to catch the different angles through the mirror. Her attire choice had been a flowing draped creamy dress accented with a gemstone belt. There was also another small detail, a zipper running down the back of the dress so she might need help to finish dressing. After one last look at her reflection, her lips drew a wicked smirk and then she went in search of her improvised assistant.

Killian did not disappoint her. The moment she appeared in the living room, walking toward him while her hips swayed slightly, his eyes locked on her, following her every move. When she got to where he was, she turned around, showing her bare back as she cast a suggestive glance over her shoulder. "I may need some help."

"Bloody hell, Swan. We should be leaving in fifteen minutes." He growled, his warm breath caressing the skin of the back of her neck and sending a chill down her spine.

"Where's the rush? It's my day today. I'm allowed to be late." She purred and then bit her lower lip, feeling the first touch —and she hoped not the last one— of his fingers on her bare back.

An hour later and after being thoroughly satisfied, they finally left his (their) apartment, both wearing the same sated smiles and flushed cheeks.

Their destiny was uncertain, at least for her. The only thing Killian had revealed to her was that they were going out of town to get her birthday present but that, evidently, they would be back in time for the party at Granny's in her honor. Still, on the drive to that unknown destination, she insisted, since she didn't feel particularly comfortable when things were not under her control, even for a good reason.

"Where are we going?”

"Out of town, Swan.”

(Rolling eyes)

“Is my gift something physical?”

“You'll discover it shortly, love.”

(Really?)

“When we arrive? (Yes, I know, I'm behaving like a little girl, but I don't care)”

“Patience is a virtue, just relax and enjoy the ride.”

( Double rolling eyes)

So she had no choice but to ‘enjoy the ride’ by looking out the window and trying to figure out from the different directions they took where they would go. To be honest, she also glanced at Killian from time to time who was exuding total confidence driving his new adapted vehicle as if he had been doing it all his life instead of just for the past three months.

She didn't stop admiring the ease with which Killian had ended up accepting his prosthesis and its implications, using the substitute of his hand to his advantage instead of making it an inconvenience. Still, the road to that level of acceptance had been long and hard — more than two years. Even now, he experienced some rough days, when the frustration of not being able to do something took over him or when the phantom pains of his missing limb paid him an unexpected visit.

Today wasn't one of those days, fortunately, since she couldn't bear to see Killian suffer, whatever the reason. Today his bright smile, his mischievous gaze, and that expression, a mixture of contentment and nervousness — probably due to her impending surprise— made him irresistible in her eyes.

She supposed that they were going to Boston when they passed the sign with that name and turned onto the road that would take them to the center of the city. Her curiosity grew at times while she wondered what would await them there. When Killian started parking a few minutes later, Emma peered out the window, but nothing rang a bell.

She then looked at Killian, "I don't see anything interesting out there. Where are we supposed to be?" She asked, sounding perhaps a little more grumbling than she felt.

Killian smirked at her after rolling his eyes. "I'm afraid we're going to have to walk a bit. Also, I need to ask you a favor. Can I trust you?"

"It depends..." She tried to hide her true feelings by masking them with a halo of indifference, despite the fact that the damn bastard had managed to capture her interest, leaving her a nervous wreck and beyond excited.

"I need to blindfold you until we get to the place. That or you offer me enough confidence to walk there with your eyes closed. So, what's your choice, Swan?"

"I don't get the need for so much mystery but anyway - eyes closed. You’re not going to ruin my makeup for the second time this morning." She pouted as she felt her cheeks flush, recalling the reasons for the first time.

Killian also seemed to remember since, despite his smug grin, the tips of his ears turned a deep red in a way that made him so freaking adorable. Gods! She loved that man.

"Okay, let's do this." He patted the steering wheel of the car and, just as he was about to open the door to get out of the car, he turned to her, raising an eyebrow in warning. "Don't think I'm taking my eyes off you for a second."

"You and I know that, surprise or not, you aren't able to take your eyes off me." She countered. Two could play this game.

"And you and I both know it's all your fault. You're irresistible, love." Without giving her time to react, Killian leaned toward her and gave her a quick kiss on the lips before turning and getting out of the car.

He was at her side in an instant, opening the door and offering her his hand to help her out. She pressed her lips together holding back a snort. Always the gentleman... "Now, if the lady would be so kind as to close her eyes..." She gave him one last look, letting out a deep sigh before dropping her eyelids. "Trust me, Swan." He whispered in her ear, sending goosebumps down her skin. Next, she felt him draw her to him slightly and wrap his arm around her shoulders. "Let yourself go."

And that she did. Walking blindly, depending on someone else to guide her steps so as not to stumble or simply not to hit any obstacle on the sidewalk, turned out to be a demonstration of absolute trust in her partner. But, although there was always a bit of innate fear, she felt safe, once again, in his arms.

They didn't walk for long. If her sense of direction didn't betray her, they simply went around the corner and stopped a few steps later. "We're almost there, don't open your eyes yet."

When Killian moved away from her, she felt unprotected somehow and very tempted to do just that - open her eyes. She resisted though. Instead, she decided to use the rest of her senses to figure out what was happening around her.

She heard the tinkling of what sounded like keys, mixed with the ambient noise of the street. Then Killian's warm hand entwined with hers as he pulled her subtly. "We're almost there, just a few more steps, love." He whispered again.

Emma let herself be guided, feeling the temperature rise as they entered wherever Killian had taken her. The outside sound was muffled the moment the door closed behind them, giving way to absolute silence.

Killian pulled her once more, making her walk a few steps, her heels echoing broadly on the smooth surface of the floor. That gave her a clue that they were probably in a large room, getting her curiosity and impatience to increase.

"It's alright, Swan. You can open your eyes now." Killian muttered behind her.

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking a couple of times until her vision adapted to the new lighting in the room. When her gaze finally settled on what she found in front of her, her mouth fell open on a gasp and her eyes widened. "Holy shit!"

Her gaze traveled throughout the room while she remained in awe, unable to believe what she saw. They were in an exhibition hall. And her image - several of her images - appeared in all the photographs that hung on the walls.

Her gaze then fell on Killian who remained silent at her side, his brows furrowed slightly, waiting for her reaction. "You did this, didn't you?" She mumbled in a barely audible voice, her hand waving in an attempt to encompass the entire room.

"Aye?" He wrinkled his nose as he closed one eye, as if suddenly feeling insecure.

"Let's see if I understood correctly... You've organized a photo exhibit in a Boston showroom, using the photographs you took of me?"

"That would be a pretty accurate description." He confirmed tentatively while handing her an explanatory brochure.

The former British war reporter and award-winning photographer, Killian Jones, reappears after three inactive years to present us a new photographic collection, inspired by his muse, The Lady Swan, to whom the exhibition owes its name. True to his style, the collection stands out for the elegance and sophistication of simple lines alternated with powerful lighting games. All the photographs are in black and white, endowing the collection with the sobriety that characterizes the artist.

The complete collection is for sale. All the benefits obtained will go to different non-governmental organizations that currently collaborate in locations of various active armed conflicts, as well as those working in cities that have suffered war attacks.

"Oh my God." A wave of pride, admiration and pure love seized her, causing her to throw her arms around his boyfriend's neck while kissing him hard. "You're bloody amazing." She mumbled in a poor attempt to imitate his accent as she grabbed the back of his head, sprinkling kisses on his cheeks, lips and any exposed skin of his face.

"I suppose that by your reaction, you approve of it." Killian said between chuckles, while trying to respond to her kissing attack with one of his own.

She pulled back a bit of him looking for her eyes. "Are you kidding me? This is wonderful, and I haven't even seen the photos in detail yet... As long as there are not any inappropriate photos... You know what I mean..." Emma raised an eyebrow suggestively while she bit her lower lip.

"You'll have to verify it for yourself." He winked at her, but then his expression changed to a more serious one. "The exhibition hall doesn't open to the public for another week, but I wanted to show it to you before, both as a birthday present and also to confirm that you give us permission to use your image. Just say the word and we will back out. This is important, Swan. " Killian looked at her intently.

She had no doubt that he would do it, that if she didn't agree, he would take down all the photos on the wall with his own hands. That certainty did nothing but increase her feelings towards him, causing a lump in her throat while she looked at him completely stunned, unable to utter any words.

Killian must have interpreted her silence in the wrong way because before she could reply, he continued with his explanation. "It's reward enough for me to have witnessed your reaction. That’s what I wanted when I set up all this, to show you how wonderful you are as a model and maybe, to believe in myself again. I’m getting it now through your reaction. I don't give a shit about what others may think."

"Others, and with others, I mean the rest of the world, are going to be impressed with your art. You deserve to have the rest of the world recognize your talent in the same way that I do." She nodded to emphasize her speech. Her reaction managed to pull a smile from his lips, to which she responded with one of her own. "And now, I may need a special guide to tour this exhibition." Emma offered her hand, ready to enjoy her gift in its entirety.

What impressed her the most about Killian's art work, besides his undeniable talent, was that walking around the room observing the photos was like walking through their shared memories. Each image, from the simple photo of her strolling on the beach at sunset to the photo in which only her hands appeared braiding her hair, all had a special meaning for her, and for both as a couple.

But there were four special photos that caused her to gasp when her eyes landed on them. The first photo was chosen from that photo shoot in early May, when she was wearing his black shirt. Yeah, the one with the bare shoulder.

It was amazing how Killian had managed to capture her enigmatic gaze and convey sensuality and delicacy at the same time. He made her look like a powerful and impressive woman. A strange sensation settled in the pit of her stomach when she saw herself in that startling image, as if she did not identify with the person that appeared.

Killian must have sensed the emotion crossing her mind since he circled her waist with his arms from behind as he murmured in her ear. "It seems that I changed my mind and I've decided to share the marvel I've got for a girlfriend with the rest of the world." "I'm not complaining." She turned her head looking for his lips for a quick kiss. "I look damn good there. I don't know how you did it." "It's all your merit, Swan." "Sure." She rolled her eyes as she continued walking.

The next photo pulled her lips into a smile for both the image itself and the memory behind it. Killian had managed to capture a close-up of one of her eyes and a tear that had begun to slide down her cheek. A new wave of admiration washed over her since he had captured the moment, pausing the tear eternally on its way down. And even though the photo was black and white, the intense brightness of her gaze was evident.

What people wouldn't know was the light source or that she wasn't crying with sadness - well, maybe yes, or, whatever... They had watched Titanic together for the first time a couple of months ago and Killian had made fun of her from the very beginning since she had been trying to hold back tears throughout the film. With the inevitable death of Jack, she hadn't been able to help it anymore and a furtive tear had finally escaped. Killian had decided at that precise moment to grab his camera, of course. And now, they were seeing the result right here.

Approaching the next photo, the one that occupied a privileged place in the room for obvious reasons, she screamed, literally. "Oh my God!"

The dimensions of the photo were somewhat larger than the others, which made it stand out even more. Emma’s image stood in the center of the picture with her back to the camera, submerged up to her waist in a lake. She wore a white dress and over it, a kind of light coat of the same color, adorned with fake feathers. She had her arms raised on either side of her body at shoulder height, the wide sleeves of her cloak creating the effect of wings in the air. Her hair was pulled up in a high bun and her head was slightly tilted upwards, her neck stretched out, her elegant posture emulating a swan. The light at that hour of the day fell over her in such a way that it seemed that a luminous halo surrounded her. The image was hypnotic and powerful and perfect. And it was her boyfriend's artwork.

But the best of all was the story behind that picture. They had found the cloak while walking through an antique market one summer day and Killian had felt inspired, so he had spent the next two days looking for the best location to carry out the photo shoot. Despite her initial apprehension of getting into the water with clothes on, she had enjoyed the photo shoot, following Killian's instructions and contributing with her own ideas since she was enthusiastic about emulating her namesake swan.

Given that the place Killian had found was sufficiently recondite, they had decided to celebrate the end of the session in a rather pleasurable way, gaining not only memories of one of her best jobs as an improvised model, but memories of making love under the trees, a blanket of vegetation beneath them. A warm feeling ran through her body as Emma shared a knowing glance with Killian. Without a doubt, their minds were reliving that unforgettable moment.

She remembered something else too - something not so nice. She had been so excited to see the result of the photos that she had felt totally devastated when Killian had told her that he had inexplicably lost the content of that photo shoot.

"You didn't lose the photos! You're a liar!" She recriminated him poking a finger into his chest.

"Sorry?" Killian gave her an apologetic look, but the grin he wore indicated he didn't feel sorry at all. "I needed you to see the picture for the first time right here, Swan." His lips drew a pout in his attempt to defend himself.

"I want a copy of this photo." She sued.

"As you wish." His head made a slight bow. "You can have all the copies you want, love." He assured.

She looked at the image again, discovering with each glance a new small detail, like the few clouds that adorned the sky. "It's just perfect, Killian. Congratulations."

"Again, the merit is all yours. Well, and maybe the sun also has something to do with it as that day, it decided to grace us with its splendor. But I mean it, you're not only stunning but you're always willing to participate in my crazy ideas. I really appreciate it, Emma." As he spoke he approached her, invading her personal space and placing both his hand and his prosthesis on either side of her waist. She, in turn, encircled his neck with her arms.

"I'm in love with an artist, I'm the privileged one here, believe me."

After being enthralled for a few seconds, both lost in each other's eyes, Killian shook his head slightly, as if trying to get out of the trance and offered his hand to Emma, guiding her to the last photograph of the exhibit.

Again, contemplating the image brought more emotion to her already excited heart. This time her eyes filled with tears and her heart fluttered as she looked at the picture in front of her. A photo of a family hug that she remembered very well, of the day she had finally decided to accept that she was part of a family. She had her back to the camera, but the image did show the faces of her parents, both wrapping her up in a protective hug, wearing the same expression of relief and love.

"That's the only photo of the collection that I took with my mobile, but I felt the need to include it here, since that's your life now - our life." He corrected himself as he reached for her cheek to wipe away the tears.

"See? You ended up messing up my makeup." She made a sound that was half-sob and half-giggle. When she got her emotions to calm down she finally was able to thank Killian properly. "Thank you so much, Killian. This surprise has exceeded expectations and this birthday gift competes with the one I received last year, the one who brought me to you."

"Speaking of which, love, your gift may not be over yet. In fact, I need you to close your eyes again. It will only be a few steps, I promise." He seemed so excited, almost bouncing in place, that she could not do anything but accept, close her eyes and trust him.

Only a few steps later they stopped again while Killian whispered that she could already open her eyes. When she did, she found a new smaller showroom. In contrast to the previous room, the photos that appeared hanging from the walls were an explosion of color. She didn't identify the photos at first, too shocked by all the emotions she had experienced throughout the day. But when her brain finally processed what her eyes were watching, she had to cover her mouth with both hands to avoid screaming again.

Killian had filled the walls with her own photographs, the ones she had taken and edited over the past few months. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized that she was contemplating her first photographic exhibition.

"Killian..." It was the only sound she could utter before a sob bubbled in her throat. Her agitation did not diminish when he handed her her own informational brochure, rather quite the contrary.

The amateur photographer, Emma Swan, presents her first photographic collection, Pictures of Reality, a work that stands out for the ability to immortalize little pieces of the reality of her place of residence, Storybrooke, a town located on the coast of Maine, and turn them into something special, beautiful and full of meaning. The intelligent use of colors in these small everyday scenes gives her work a great visual quality.

She was not just crying now, her eyes were two fucking fountains. Her gaze was so clouded with tears that she wasn't even able to observe her own work. "God, Killian, I hope this is the last surprise, because I swear I'm going to dry up inside."

This time, he did not even bother to wipe her tears, as it would have been an impossible task. He directly handed her a tissue as he pulled her lightly to guide her through the exhibition hall.

Now, she understood his insistence for her to edit her own photographs. He had managed to make everything that hung on the walls appear to be the result of her work, minus the actual printing of the photographs. And she admired him even more for it, for giving her the wings that would allow her to fly to reach her dreams.

"You're bloody brilliant, love. See all those photos? They’re talking, they're telling us stories, you've been able to capture those stories in your images." The smile of pride that adorned his face was enough for her to be about to burst into tears again, but this time she resisted.

There were photos taken from the docks, families walking, an old man sitting on a bench and telling stories to his grandchildren while the kids watched him enraptured. Killian had also included the photo of Olaf, the snowman, the one that she took the day of their practices in the snow. There were also photos of the nature that surrounded Storybrooke, photos of its inhabitants, photos of Henry, of her parents... Even the two of them also appeared, or at least their two hands intertwined.

Something changed in Killian's attitude as they stood right in front of that photo. His usual confidence seemed to have abandoned him, and a slight blush colored his cheeks. It was evident that he was up to something but she was not sure that she could handle even more surprises.

"Don’t you think there's something missing in that picture?" He asked, his chin pointing toward the photo as he reached out to scratch behind his ear.

Emma tilted her head, studying his features from under her lashes for a few seconds until her gaze finally drifted to the image. Her eyes narrowed trying to detect what could be missing. "I don't know, maybe the lighting? Or the saturation? Or perhaps the focus?"

"The photo is perfect both artistically and technically, but there is something missing on one of your fingers." Out of the corner of her eye, Emma watched as Killian pulled something out of his pants pocket and showed it to her. A ring.

"No!" She gasped unable to stop the emotion.

"No?"

A wrinkle of worry appeared on Killian's forehead as he remained still. Dammit! She shook her head and hurried to explain herself. "I mean, it's an 'I can't believe this is happening' sort of no..." She held her breath as she thought her heart was going to explode if he did not make any move.

After a few seconds that seemed eternal, the corners of his lips twisted upwards, the flash of something promising dancing in his eyes. "It would be an honor for me if you'd allow me to be a part of our own pictures of reality by becoming your life partner." Her gaze bored into his briefly until she shook her head in an attempt to get out of the trance. "Is that your way of asking me to marry you, Jones?" "Is it working?" He offered her a tentative smile. "Yes!" "I'm afraid I need you to be more specific here. That 'yes' means that it's working or that you do want to marry me?" "Oh my god, Killian." She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I want to marry you." Emma affirmed before throwing herself into his arms and capturing his lips with hers. An endless number of sensations danced inside her, causing her to feel like floating, not quite sure if what she was experiencing was real or just the sweetest of dreams. Only when they parted to catch their breaths did she realize that he still held the ring in his hand. "What are you waiting for? Put that ring on my finger, Jones." Emma offered her hand palm down. "So demanding, Swan." He smirked while he finally placed the ring where it belonged. "But you love me." "I do, with all my heart."

A flash crossed her mind at that moment when she remembered the first birthday they had shared, his, and the Nol... her parents' warning that he never celebrated it. "Would you let me do something special for you for your next birthday? I mean, I won't even get close to this, but I can try."

"Even at the risk of sounding a bit corny, my birthday will be special enough just by having you by my side."

"You know what I mean, Killian..."

There was a pause in which Emma was able to deduce that Killian was torn between staying anchored to his past or giving the future a chance. The ring she now wore on her finger was an indication and the bright smile he offered anticipated the answer, to her relief. "Even though you don't need to do anything special..."

"I don't need, I want to." Emma corrected.

"Okay then. I won't be opposed any surprise when it's time to celebrate my next birthday."

"Good." Her mind then began to work frantically, searching for ideas about how she might surprise him, now that Killian seemed willing to move on. Maybe that promised trip to London… But there were still a few months left for that. In the meantime, she still had many hours ahead to continue enjoying her special day.

Emma couldn't stop glancing at her new ring on the ride back to Storybrooke. Not even in her best dreams had she imagined that she would end up engaged on her birthday. The possibility of a wedding was something that she wouldn't ever have thought of until now, honestly, since from the day she had chosen to give a new opportunity to her relationship with Killian, she had decided to enjoy the day to day, without thinking too much about the future.

She didn't really need a ring, not an engagement, or even a wedding to consolidate her feelings towards Killian but somehow, the idea of celebrating with all their friends and family the commitment of their eternal love suddenly sounded more and more appealing. She couldn't wait to see the reaction of the others.

"I guess David will jump for joy when he finds out, now that he can finally call you son..." Emma made a deliberate pause. "...in-law."

"Well ..." Killian gave her a sidelong glance before focusing his eyes on the road again. "Your father may be aware of the news already... I... I asked for his blessing the other day..."

"Of course you did." Emma shook her head slightly as she couldn't prevent a smile from appearing on her face at the evidence, once again, of the strength of her new fiance's relationship with her father. A new idea crossed her mind at that moment, something she hadn't thought about until now. When the wedding took place, someone would have to walk her down the aisle and someone would have to be Killian's best man... No doubt David was going to be a very busy man that day.

With that in mind, she leaned against the back of her seat and closed her eyes, letting the last sunshine of the day caress her skin while a sensation of bliss spread through her body.

The first thing Mary Margaret did when Emma and Killian came through Granny's door was to look at her left hand as her eyes filled with tears and then she wrapped them both in a tight hug.

There were other curious reactions to the announcement of their engagement, such as Ruby and Graham's.

"Tell me it was you who asked him, Emma." Ruby demanded with a pleading look.

"Eh, not really." Emma replied slowly, not quite sure what all this was about. Her response caused Graham to raise his fist in the air in triumph as Ruby let out a snort of annoyance as she handed him a twenty-dollar bill.

"Wait... Is this a kind of bet or something?" Killian asked as he furrowed his brow in confusion.

"It's totally a bet. Here, my boyfriend and Ruby had the brilliant idea of betting who would be the one asking for the other’s hand in marriage." Elsa explained trying (and failing) to keep a serious expression.

Emma and Killian looked at each other while Killian raised an eyebrow and his lips began to draw a smirk. She shook her head in disbelief, for not having been aware at any time of the bet of her two friends, but she also felt glad because, with their gesture, they implied that they were certain that the engagement would happen sooner or later.

"It's not funny." Ruby grumbled as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Why do men always have to do it? Elsa, you're my last hope!” Ruby smirked at her, showing that she had already recovered after finding a new target. Graham and Elsa instead blushed in unison as they both looked at the floor. It seemed obvious that soon new wedding bells would sound in Storybrooke.

To the relief of the new couple in love, the other guests began to approach Emma and Killian to give them the appropriate congratulations. Henry was the last to do it. After sharing a hug full of affection with Emma, his gaze traveled from Emma to Killian while he wore a thoughtful expression.

"If the three best photographers in the town will be the main ones involved in the wedding, who will be in charge of taking the photos?" He asked with genuine interest.

"Well..." Killian raised his eyebrows as he glanced at his former students, all present at the event. "I think we have quite a few candidates here who will do a worthy job."

"We learned from the best, professor!" Will shouted, causing the rest of them to clap, while the tips of her fiancé's ears turned a characteristic pink color. There was no doubt that Killian had left a mark on each of them and for one reason or another, that course would always remain in their memories. In hers, of course, the course had a special place.

Once all congratulations on the engagement finished, it was time for another celebration, her birthday, and the reason why the party had been launched in the first place. If she thought the surprises were over after their visit to the exhibition hall and after getting engaged, she was wrong. Maybe she had already known in advance that a party in her honor had been waiting for her in Storybrooke, but what she did not expect at all was to find so many displays of affection, so many smiles, so many gifts. Everything for her, all because of her.

The arrival at Storybrooke two years ago had meant the end of her lonely birthday celebrations, but this was the first time she had done it with a real family around her and with the promise of the new family that she and Killian would soon start.

She kept the tradition of blowing the lonely candle in a cupcake, but now she didn't need to take a selfie to capture the moment, many people volunteered to do so. It was Elsa, the second most advantaged student of the course, the person chosen to immortalize the scene while Emma closed her eyes and let herself be carried away by the feeling of being loved, and with the simple wish that both her happiness and that of her loved ones last forever.

The tears shed didn't end with Killian's surprises either. She had never considered herself a weeping person but now that love in all senses of the word ran wild through her veins, she finally allowed herself to express her feelings and be vulnerable.

For that reason, she was unable to hold back the tears when she opened her parent's gift. An old Polaroid camera, the same style as the one Killian still had and like the one she had lost so many years ago. A new wave of affection both to her parents and to her recent fiancé —it was evident that Killian was also behind this surprise— took hold of her.

She reserved the last tears for later, with Killian and the four walls of their bedroom as the only witnesses. Besides the camera, her father had also given her a new letter. Although she had felt the almost unstoppable impulse to read it right there, she had finally preferred to do it in privacy. It was like this: holding the letter handwritten by her father while Killian's arms wrapped her as the happiest day of her life ended. The best part was that that day was only the first of many that were to come.

My dearest Emma,

Happy birthday, my dear daughter. May all your dreams come true.

I’m aware that we have already established that now that we have finally met, these letters are no longer necessary. But, since this has been my only contact with you all these years, would you allow me to write you one last time? Or maybe we could turn it into our little tradition, something just between you and me. Would you like that?

I'm honestly unable to explain in words how utterly happy I am to be with you on this special day and not just settle for watching you in the distance or writing longing letters hoping against hope that one day they would reach to you.

That day arrived at the moment when, in your huge generosity, you decided to forgive us and include us in your life, being part of your family.

I know that I will live the rest of my life trying to compensate you for all these years that we have spent separated. But today is a special day for you and also for us, it's not time to look back to the past but to look forward.

It's likely that when you read this letter you will have discovered the surprises that Killian has prepared for you. You can not imagine how incredibly proud I feel of you, of your talent, of your ability to achieve everything you set out to do.

Maybe your hand, the one that holds this letter, is wearing now something that wasn't there a few hours ago. Killian came to me a couple of weeks ago, telling me all the plans he had for your birthday and asking for my blessing to marry you.

I was aware that this would happen sooner or later, but that didn't stop my heart from bursting with happiness knowing that my family was finally going to be complete, that the person I've seen growing up, my best friend, that loyal and honorable man, will be part of our family officially.

I send my best wishes to you both, so that you are able to build that family that you deserve so much. We will be by your side whenever you allow us, helping and supporting you in this new stage of your journey in life.

I won't assume that I will be the one that walks you down the aisle, Emma, but in case you are so kind to choose me, it would be my most complete honor to accompany you on that special day and witness one of your milestones. We have lost so many throughout your life that I honestly hope not to miss a single one more.

Your father who loves you and will always be by your side,

David.

Killian Jones. Storybrooke - May 3, 2021

It was a bright day in early May. The soft sea breeze ruffled his hair as the warm sun's rays caressed his skin, the salty scent penetrating through his nostrils. Killian was at the docks, leaning over the railing, holding his inseparable camera between his hand and his prosthesis while he captured the magic of the sunset, the sky turning into a canvas of reddish and orange hues.

The ocean had always had a calming effect on him, both the sound and the movement of the waves had managed to alleviate the agony of his heart or make the burden of his past more bearable. Even now, when his heart was not only in peace but overflowing with happiness and his old ghosts were no more than a vestige of the past that only made an appearance from time to time, he still enjoyed the effect of the sea on him. Both he and his wife did so to the point that they had begun to consider buying a boat and making photographic expeditions along the coast of Maine. Or even further, only they would establish the limit.

His wife. He let the word slide through his mind as he could almost taste its meaning by watching the ring in his hand, one of the many proofs that what he was experiencing wasn't a dream, it was real. So real that sometimes the feeling was too overwhelming. This was his life now, waiting for his wife and father in law in one of their favorite spots of the town to later enjoy a peaceful dinner together. It was a simple and perhaps predictable life but he wouldn't change it for anything in the world.

Emma had asked him on occasion if he missed his years of adventure traveling to exotic places or working on risky missions so that the world would not forget the most disadvantaged people. The answer was always immediate. No, he didn't miss his previous life, not when he now had something to live for. And he could always fight injustice by offering his services in another way.

Just then, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, while a sense of anticipation hummed under his skin. He just needed to turn his head slightly to find the cause. Emma, his wife, the imminent future mother of his daughter, the love of his life, was walking towards him, causing his heart to flutter. She looked like a goddess, dressed in all white, her golden hair dancing to the rhythm of the sea breeze, her lips drawing a loving smile and her bright green eyes fixed on him.

His fingers began to tingle so he had no choice but to give in to the impulse, grabbing the camera to capture the image of the impressive woman he had for a wife. She was his muse, the person who had brought inspiration back to his life, after all. Knowing she was observed, she didn't hesitate to pose for him while her hand caressed her very swollen belly.

Only when he was satisfied enough with the result of his improvised photo shoot did she approach him, planting a loud kiss on his lips.

"This tiny little baby is not even born yet and she has already got more pictures than her mother and father together. I don't even want to imagine what will happen to us when she finally decides to arrive. We're going to have to buy a new apartment just to get more walls to hang her photos."

A laugh bubbled from his chest as he pushed aside the camera that hung around his neck to make space for his wife in his arms. "Oddly enough, I wasn't taking pictures of her, but of her stunning mum."

"You mean the whale I've become." She grumbled, her lips drawing an adorable pout. "I honestly can't wait for this baby to arrive, I think I'm going to explode at any moment."

Killian chuckled as he bent over until his face was at the same level as Emma's belly, leaving a delicate kiss on the fabric that covered her as he whispered, "Don’t listen to your mother, little love, she is and always will be the most beautiful woman, at least until you get here, of course."

He didn't need to look at his wife's face to know that she was rolling her eyes at that moment, although the smile pulling at her lips would become wider.

"This baby and her mom are pretty hungry. Why don't we head for Granny's right now?"

It was then that Killian realized that Emma had arrived alone. She and David were supposed to come directly from the newspaper office and then the three of them would meet with Mary Margaret at Granny's.

True to her decision, Emma had begun her studies to become a journalist and she was already in the process of getting it. Meanwhile, she had started to work in the local newspaper under her father's orders, thus achieving not only a source of income but to strengthen bonds with David.

"Where's your father?"

Emma rolled her eyes before answering. "He got a call from Mary Margaret for him to pick her up. Guess where she was?"

"In our house?" Killian asked, knowing in advance the answer for Emma's reaction.

"Yeah, apparently she's found the nicest crib sheet set ever and she just had to have everything ready because of the imminent arrival of this little human being." She pointed towards her belly. Although there was a slight bit of complaint in her voice and her brows furrowed slightly, Killian knew that she didn't mind at all that her mother had taken control of the baby's preparations.

They had previously talked about this and both agreed. Emma understood their reasons, accepting that their granddaughter was going to give them the opportunity to experience all that they had missed with her since, in addition, they had decided long ago that they wouldn't become parents again, that they wouldn't look for a substitute for their lost daughter.

Emma and Killian weren't going to complain if that meant lightening their responsibilities and enjoying more time together. They even have already predicted future dates when their little girl had grown enough to stay in the care of her grandparents from time to time.

"By the way, I caught David again today." Emma's voice brought him back to reality. "He adores you, you know, don't you? He was talking on the phone with someone and he wouldn't stop talking like this 'my son this... my son that...' He seems to always forget the 'in-law ' when he refers to you."

A warm sensation spread to his heart when he heard Emma. The feeling was mutual. If before the ties with David and Mary Margaret were strong, now that they had officially become family they were indestructible. David was not only his father-in-law but his best friend, his co-worker from time to time and the father figure he had needed so much since the loss of his brother. "But you and I know that doesn't bother you, right?"

"Nah, I find it pretty adorable, sort of weird, but adorable nonetheless." Emma offered him a soft smile while her hand caressed her belly again. "And now that I'm talking about him, I'm going to send them a text because my stomach is literally growling. I'm gonna faint if I don't eat any food in the next few minutes." Emma pulled the phone out of her purse and typed on the screen quickly. Next, she offered her hand. "Shall we?"

"We shall." Killian held her hand but instead of walking, he brought her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles as his eyes locked on hers. "Did I tell you today how much I love you, Swan?"

Emma remained thoughtful for a few seconds before answering. "Only a couple of times, but I wouldn't mind listening to it again."

The adorable smile that appeared on her lips almost made him forget to say the words, but he repressed the desire to kiss her senselessly until a little later. "Just a reminder, I love you Emma Swan-Jones."

"I love you too, Killian Jones. And now kiss your wife already."

He happily obliged.

David Nolan. Storybrooke - May 3, 2021

When David arrived at his daughter and Killian's apartment, he went directly to the small nursery, the room next to the master suite that had served as a dark room before they decided to move into that apartment and transform Emma's old apartment as a photo studio.

Mary Margaret was already there, but instead of keeping busy or simply watching distractedly the bedroom that would welcome their granddaughter in just a few weeks — in just a few days if they were lucky— he found her in the middle of the room, staring at the screen of her phone while covering her mouth with her free hand.

A tug of concern settled in the pit of his stomach as he hurried to get to his wife. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Mary Margaret flinched as she noticed his presence, while she looked away from the phone at him, her eyes full of tears that threatened to spill. "David..." She gasped. Then she shook her head, as if she had finished processing the information, while her face lit up. "Nothing is wrong, it's the opposite of wrong, actually. Everything is perfect." She breathed out while she handed him her phone.

Hi mom! Did dad already arrive? Your granddaughter and I are starving, so we're heading to Granny's now. Don't be late unless you want to arrive when I've devoured half of Granny's pantry. ES

Oh, and mom? Can you get me the jar of pickles that I keep in the cupboard? I may have a kind of craving right now and Ruby texted me to inform me that they have run out of stock. Can you believe it? ES

Mom and dad... David's heart thudded in his chest as his stomach fluttered, when he read those words for the first time. Emma had accepted them as parents a long time ago, and he was aware that she referred to them as such when talking to other people, but never when talking directly to them. Until now.

And the way she had chosen to do it only increased his love for her. She had used a simple text, something causal that in other circumstances would be impersonal, and had transformed it into something magical and special just by using two words. He didn't know if his poor heart would resist when she finally uttered the words out loud.

"Let's go get our daughter and son." David grabbed his wife's hand, pulling her gently while placing a soft kiss on the top of her head. Before leaving the nursery, he took a last look, while a warm sensation spread to his heart. Their granddaughter wasn't yet born, but her bedroom was already full of life, with warm colors, photos, and drawings adorning the walls. Even the old rag doll that was once destined for Emma now occupied a privileged place in the room.

There was no doubt that she would always be surrounded by memories in the form of pictures and stories and, above all, surrounded by the love of her entire family. He couldn't wait to finally meet her, hold her in his arms and never let her go.

TheLadySwan Family, that wide concept that encompasses endless possibilities, such as the unconventional family, without blood ties between its members, but with an indestructible union despite the misfortunes they go through. Or as the family that is reunited after too many years apart and whose members have to re-establish the ties that were broken at the beginning. Or as the family that is about to add a new member, a tiny person who has not yet been born but who has already managed to create unbreakable ties with the rest of her loved ones. Your whole family is looking forward to your arrival, Hope.

This is the end...

I will never be able to thank the mods of @captainswanbigbang enough for creating and organizing this amazing event and for allowing me to participate. Thanks to that, I’ve managed to finish my first MC. This story has meant so much to me on so many levels that this experience will always remain in my memory.

#cs ff #csbb #cs au #captain swan #pictures of reality #captain swan ff #mayquita writes #my cs writings #csbb 2018 #cs au ff

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livingbutamireally · 4 years

Text

AY2019/2020 Y1S2 Module Reviews

AY2019/2020 year 1 semester 2 review

Wew this semester was more of a honeymoon period for me still since I cant advance past CS1010S - this is only the first CS mod i have to take big oof. First half of the sem was spent mostly on (re)doing CS1010S AFAST and the rest went to catching up on other modules that are of relatively lower intensities compared to modules i imagine i will have to take next semester? The most challenging mods this sem goes to CS1010S, EC1301 and also.. ST2334? About half of the semester was done at home though due to the COVID-19 pandemic and so the never-ending heap of online lectures to review (for which i am always behind on unfortunately). I have no need to S/U any module this sem fortunately but that also means I might have effectively wasted my last COVID S/Us. I’m also the kind that is happy enough just to pass.

Modules taken this semester:

CS1010S (AFAST)

GEH1031

GES1041

EC1301

ST2334

MKT1705X

CS1010S Programming Methodology (Python) – AFAST

School of Computing

Prof: Ben Leong

Exam Dates: 16 Jan (Midterm Mock - not graded) / 24 Feb (Practical Exam) / 28 Feb (Finals)

Weightage:

Coursemology – 25%

Participation – 5%

Midterm test – NA

Practical exam – 20%

Final assessment – 50%

Since i took the alternative finals i have updated the final weightage for this module (last sems CS1010S had different weightages).

As we already know, this module (or any CS modules in general) easily has the highest workload compared to other modules, except this time without needing to complete missions every week? Also since its a re-module, there were no lectures/tutorials/recitations for this module and the prof spent lesser time than the first module with us. There is just one consultation slot per week that lasts about 1.5-2h, where the TAs/ prof Ben goes through exam questions over the past years and where students get to voice any doubts they might have. Hence, a lot of self-discipline is required on our part to grind past year papers consistently and drill our brains. Not sure if i’ve mentioned this before, but it’s nice of them to provide comprehensive worked solutions for about 50 exam papers (or maybe more) the profs claimed it was the only module in NUS to be doing this. Prof mentioned he was a bit disappointed in our batch as many werent putting in considerable effort right from the start aka ponning consultation slots arranged over the holidays (in December) - which is a lot of effort coming from the professor to arrange this just for our batch (first batch of CS1010S AFAST). Just name me any prof who does this for their students, coming back over the holidays to teach unpaid. Those who were not at level 50 in Coursemology had more time now to finish the missions/side-quests needed to achieve level 50 and get the full points for Coursemology (as we were expected to in Sem 1). Things were a bit rusty after the holidays at the start but it became better with practice. Was a bit disappointed at not being able to get question 2 right during the written paper (finals) it was a bit of an IQ-ish problem solving question. Anyways winged the 4m what-did-you-learn essay question (as usual) at the end as a saving grace and passed albeit by a very bit. I improved by 2 marks ?? compared to the last semester for finals, not the nicest thing to see after so much effort being put in but still. I think I’m just better at writing essays than coding....

Results for the PE

Mean is 14. Median is also 14. Standard Deviation is 7.6. Highest grades was 30/30 Question 1 turned out to be harder than we had intended, but Q2 was quite easy and most of Q3 was doable by most, as you can see in the results. Passing mark for PE is roughly 10/30.

Mean is 51/10, median is 53/100 and standard deviation is 14.4. Highest was 81/100. Generally, the performance was much worse than we had expected. Pass grade for Finals is roughly 40/100.

Basically, if got 10/30 for PE and 40/100 for Finals and you have done your Coursemology assignments you can expect a C grade. If not, then prepare to SU. CS1010S is not graded on a curve. We set question to test that you have mastered certain concepts and your final grade is a reflection of what you seem to have mastered as reflected by your exam performance.

This whole module was done by recess week so we have more time to focus on other mods. Honestly will be happy enough just to pass. Now, how do i survive CS23030 and CS2040 rip.

GEH1031 Understanding the Universe

Faculty of Science (Physics)

Prof: Cindy Ng

Weightage:

Term Test 1 (3 Mar) – 25%

Term Test 2 (16 Apr) – 25%

Video presentation 5 Apr – 25%

Video critiques 17 Apr – 10%

Astrophotograph 17 Apr – 10%

Quizzes – 10%

Ng is relatively a slower-paced lecturer, which is good for someone like me who cant keep up with faster-paced profs. 2x on her elearning lecture videos makes the best pace imo. Her lecture slides are concise and simple, and will suffice in revision. While she does explain more in depth especially for concepts that are harder to grasp (not many) during the lecture i love that she keeps her lecture slides straight forward to the point. Everything was in point form, short and sweet much appreciated. Also if you pay attention to her lectures, you will do well for the quizzes at the end of each chapter for sure. Though i think you get the marks for quizzes as long as you did them before each deadline like participation marks kinda (?) rather than being graded on whether you answered them correctly. I didn’t do too well for term test 2 unfortunately and I also only just found out you can display the statistics of where you place among the cohort in LUMINUS and needless to say I didn’t place too well. It’s a relatively manageable module though there’s still a lot of content. Term test 1 consisted of MCQs and about 3 2m questions which she call “essay questions” which can be misleading for some (like me!). The MCQs are very tricky and most come in the format of these options: is A/ is not A/ is B/ is not B and you have to pick the right combination (2) out of these 4 options to score 1 point, which of course means less chances of getting them correct compared to the usual 25% in a typical MCQ. Term test 2 was held on LUMINUS at home, and this time since its an e-exam there was only 10mins to do about 25 MCQ, leaving only 0.4 minutes = 24s for 1 MCQ, which proved to be really stressful for many as voiced out by other cohort mates in the forum section (so very valid). The e-exam also had an essay component, 2m per question with 4 questions under 10 minutes. The implementation of this time constraint was to prevent cheating but the duration given was (I feel) unreasonable. As for the video presentation, we had to come up with a 7 min (at most) video most of which lasts 5/6mins on a news article in 2020 regarding astronomy. We had to form groups of 3 at the start of the semester, and were told to look for members on the forums if we did not have enough members. It is not necessary to show your face so you can be creative! For my group, we had a Germany graduate exchange student to work with us which was really cool. Our group’s theme was NASA’s discovery of exoplanets with the use of TESS which was wrapped up in March, before the deadline in April. Really thankful for him to prompt us each week for progress and have it done and over with instead of rushing it last minute when things get busy during reading week. (I think the guy was really done with us im so sorry Philipp if you are reading this.) Also since term test 2 was done by mid-April we had more time allocated for other modules to prepare for finals (swee). Video critiques were supposedly 50 words long if i remembered correctly but i didnt find out until i hit the submit button and :_D i left 1/2-liners for each. One of the criteria of this video critique was showing that you have watched the videos of other groups well but i dont rmb my critiques proving that ive watched the videos carefully though i really did. I think our group did the best in our cluster though! (based on the critiques). For the astrophotograph, we could take part in the astronomy sessions held on a Friday of every month to use the telescopes but there wasn’t any this semester sadly due to the pandemic.

GES1041 Everyday Ethics in Singapore

Faculty of Arts and Sciences (Philosophy)

Prof: Chin Chuan Fei

Weightage:

4 Journal Entries – 20%

4 Reading Quizzes – 20%

Group Report – 10%

Group Presentation – 20%

Finals – 40%

Chin’s lectures are pretty enjoyable, his voice/tone really suits lectures. He is a very approachable person too and willing to share a lot of experiences relevant to the topic at hand. He includes snippets of related videos in his slides many of which are insightful that made me share with my friends too. There is a total of 4 main themes in the module which are namely inequality, meritocracy, multiculturalism and migration and he also introduced the use of an ethical toolbox to helps us reach a more definitive thought process especially for an abstract topic like philosophy. I didn’t realise this was a philo mod when bidding for it so I was really surprised when i went for the first lecture (like bro it clearly says ETHICS what was i thinking). I also thought it would be something similar to Social Studies but was proven wrong. There are compulsory readings to do each week, about 20 pages long usually per reading and they are all chapters from books written by other Singaporean philosophers regarding the themes gone through which helped to widen my perspectives and broadened my horizons, those were some really good selection of readings. I have learned more things than I previously knew about the foreign domestic workers, migrant workers, racism in Singapore among the many topics we have dealt with.

This module is for those who are :

Comfortable with reading a lot every week (i put a lot here because i dont usually read)

Comfortable with writing essays (journal entry) 500 words each

Proficient in English (some of the expressions used can be quite complex and may take you a much longer time to process and understand especially with the reading quizzes that tests your comprehension of the readings - really just comprehension in true GP fashion)

Have a lot of experience in this field, those under social work would have many and will be able to share relevant experiences in the journal entry

Interested about the aforementioned themes

Reading quizzes are like comprehension style questions: do your readings and the questions tests you on what you have read so you just have to look for evidence of each option, the questions will refer you to the specific page/reading that will guide you (nice of them to do so). Journal entries and reading quizzes occur on an alternative week basis so reading quizzes followed by journal then reading quiz again and so forth. Nearing the end, you will be grouped according to who you sit close with and you will work together with your group members to work on a project that will have 2 overlapping themes about any policies/ observations of Singapore. It is advisable for the scope to not be too broad. e.g. we chose to talk about offering Muslim food in school canteens vs non-Muslim food (fewer food options for Muslims) and this encompasses both the multiculturalism and inequality themes. The group report will be due before the presentation and it helps identify some main points you will then talk about later during the presentation. Because of the COVID-19 pandemic, the group presentation this semester was done on Microsoft Powerpoint through voice-over slides. God bless, and there goes the need to memorise scripts especially with the finals season so near. The professor was really accommodating and gave us more time to prepare the voice-over slides when he announced that it will be held on powerpoint too. Finals was 20 MCQs in 1 hour on LUMINUS, the questions were similar to the reading quizzes (5 MCQs per quiz).

EC1301 Principles of Economics

Faculty of Arts and Sciences (Economics)

Prof: Ong Ee Cheng

Tutor: Devika

Weightage:

Pre/post-lecture Quizzes

Class Participation

Midterms 7 Mar

Finals 29 Apr

Can’t find the actual breakdown of scores sorry!

Bell-curve is really really steep for this one since its purely MCQ. Divided into micro and macroeconomics so first half of the sem was micro then the other half was macro. Finals was about 70% macro and 30% micro since micro was already tested for midterms. Every week, there’s a pre-lecture quiz to be done before the lecture and a post-lecture quiz due before the next lecture to reinforce your learning. There’s also supplementary readings that were given but i gave up on it by the third week. The way it is taught is a bit different from what I was used to in JC the things they focus on is also a bit different. There’s more calculations than JC whereas JC economics was more conceptual? I took only H1 economics so a lot of concepts were fresh for me like monopolism, comparative/absolute advantages, income elasticity etc. Both midterms and finals was held on Examplify with a lockdown on everything including wifi. The lecturer also provides additional practice questions in the form of quizzes nearing the exams instead of exam papers. To be honest, I felt this module was hard?? Not sure if anyone else felt the same way, it was a struggle.. I thought it was a fluff mod and boy was i very wrong about this. Also important thing to note is though this mod has MCQ-only exam, the MCQs are not 4 options but 6 options long with many tricky options and of course time constraint. Finals was 70/80 questions long in 1h iirc. Midterms was 40 questions. After the 3rd (?) tutorial, there was no more physical tutorials held just zoom tutorial sessions which only 3 ppl in my slot regularly attended. Towards the finals, a lot more zoom sessions were opened up and we could attend other TA’s zoom sessions this was a godsend thank you. My tutor wasn’t really clear in her explanations or maybe it is just me her accent came off a bit strong. I emailed her some questions but even now I have not receive any answers from her, she told me next week, and the next week became next next week and so on. I guess she must have had a lot on her plate. I didn’t think she was a good tutor. I flunked my midterms (5% percentile) so I was a bit dejected.

ST2334 Probability and Statistics

Faculty of Science (Statistics and Applied Probability)

Prof: Chan Yiu Man

Tutor: Li Shang

Weightage:

1. Quiz 1,2,3 (CA1) – 30% (?)

2. Finals – 60% (?)

Prof was really funny and friendly. Although his tutorials left me confused (my friends would care to disagree), his lectures were still pretty good. He always emphasised knowing what we are doing rather than doing the math blindly. The tutor was fast in his replies whenever I asked him questions by email. This module is an extension of statistics in JC, probability and many more probability distribution (F, chi-square, t test, z test) with terms we have never encountered before too (unless you took BT1101 but this mod focuses more on deriving the values than having a program-R calculate it for you). Ever since the outbreak, the lectures were converted to e-lecture slide style but each lesson would take 4 lectures (4h), instead of the 2 lecture per week so we had to spend more time watching the videos than usual. It is easy to be behind on videos when there is only e-lecture videos so much discipline is required to stay on task.

Finals was proctored with zoom and held on Luminus in the form of a quiz. We were expected to scan and submit a pdf with our workings after the exam. I did not have time to finish about 8 questions (a lot of marks gone) there were a total of 30 questions, spent too much time in front on the easier questions. I did study for the later questions but had no chance to utilize what I have revised (sad). I am really dead for this module i hope i dont fail this.

Update. God bless, thought i was really doomed for because i lost so many marks from not being able to finish 8/30 questions that have the most marks rewarded. Guess i really took time to make less mistakes on the previous questions.

MKT1705X Principles of Marketing

Business School (Marketing)

Prof: Regina Yeo

Tutor: Ms Canley

Weightage:

Individual Assignment – 15%

Group Assignment – 25% due in tutorials 4/5

Subject Pool – 10% *

Class Participation – 10% *

Final Exam 30 Apr – 40% *

* not too sure, checked from other reviewers

Individual assignment questions (total of 5) for tutorials 1-3 are given at the start for which the tutor will go through in the allocated weeks. We get to choose the question we want to do and if that week, the question will be discussed that week will be the deadline for our IAs. The other questions in the IA do not have to be submitted but will be discussed in class. There’s class participation for this module so people were more eager than I was used to, to answer questions in class. I had no opportunity to though in this module (halfway into the semester it became elearning), the tutor had too many hands to pick. The tutor was very accommodating and knew our difficulties and was willing to work out compromise. However, her classes were centered mainly on her experiences (which can be a bit boring) it could have been better if she went through the content. Understand that it is a fluff module that requires many examples, but would be good to relate them back to the content we are expected to master. Tutorials are held every alternate week and we are expected to do the individual questions even if we do not need to submit so that we have something at least to share in class. Subject pool was giveaway marks basically do 6 research surveys and u will get the full marks for that. Final exam comprises of 3 essay questions (40m, 30m, 30m) that you have to submit in 1.5h (i thought it was 2h during the paper rip mad rush for the end), no references/research needed but there’s a plagiarism checker by TurnItIn on luminus basically testing the application of concepts to examples.

I got a B+ for group assignment, and A- for individual assignment. I think i can only do essay styled questions, is this a sign to do arts.....

Oh the presentation was changed to a one-shot video recording (no stitching of individual videos together) instead of an actual presentation in front of your tutorial mates. I think a lot of other groups also read off their scripts but ours was really obvious. The tutor grades (structures her own bell-curve) based on those who attempted the same question to be more fair rather than comparing among all the different questions so in a way, the difficulty of the questions won’t affect your grade.

Epilogue. this is probably the last and only time i could do this well.... even if it does not fit the conventional definition of doing well......

#y1s2

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singingisfun · 7 years

Text

Changing Tides - Chapter 18

link to cover art by @otpapprovedbythegods

And here’s a link to an adorable pic of Dopey as a pirate by @clockadile

ff.net: From the beginning - Current Chapter

AO3: From the beginning - Current Chapter

Tumblr: Prologue - Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Ch 7 - Ch 8 - Ch 9-Ch 10 - Ch 11- Ch 12 - Ch 13 - Ch 14 - Ch 15 - Ch 16 - Ch 17

To my incredible and lovely readers,

I've seen some worried people since Jen announced she wasn't returning, wondering what will become of our fandom now that she isn't coming back. People are unsure what will happen with not only the show, with the CS happy ending, and what Hook's roll will be, but also with fics, fic writers, gif makers and artists.

Let me assure you, I will see this fic to the end. I already know how it's going to play out and, in fact, I have several future scenes already written. So, even if there is no one left to read it, I will post every single word. I hope you stick with me.

Hugs to all of you,

Rachel

The Tower and The Spell

“How would you like to see your wife?”

The air gets sucked out of the room the moment the words leave Merlin’s mouth, leaving David to struggle for breath and an intense hum to sound in his ears. His heart pounds into his rib cage which, when combined with the humming, leaves him worried that he may actually pass out. He tries to speak, tries to form the word – yes – but he can’t find his voice, the overwhelming emotion strangling him.

See Snow? Finally be with her again? Awaken her from the curse and feel her silken skin under his fingers? Gaze on her sweet smile and hear her beautiful voice calling him Charming in that teasing way?

He wants that more than anything – to hear her voice – because he’s started to realize over the past few years that he’s not even sure what it sounds like anymore. Pictures are easy. Pictures he can see with complete clarity… the first time they met, their wedding day, the day their daughter was born…

But the most vivid picture, the one he sees nearly every time he closes his eyes, is the excruciating painful glimpse he had of her as she’d been drug through the door of that ball room…

…

The ground is shaking and splitting, the chandelier overhead swaying, but he doesn’t see it. He doesn’t see anything but her kicking and lashing out against her captors as they drag her across the dais. He rushes toward her just as she lands an impressive heel on the shin of one of them and she almost breaks free. His heart vaults but then there’s a cracking sound so powerful and deafening that his eyes are drawn away from her, turning to see the balcony crack right in two. He squints his eyes against the sudden barrage of dust and debris, but amazingly enough, none of it comes in his direction, instead only taking out several black knights nearby by burying them in stone and rubble.

He doesn’t take time to marvel over his luck before he rushes forward again, scaling a large pile of rock that landed directly in front of him. Snow is still in the same place she had been, her eyes transfixed on what’s happening above and he breathes easier for an instant. The knights holding her seem as stunned as everyone else and he takes advantage, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he maneuvers the now rock-filled terrain, jumping over one hurtle after the next.

Another glance to Snow catches her look of relief at what’s happening on the balcony and he casts a quick look over his shoulder to see the cloud of dust clearing. He takes one heartbeat to thank the gods that both Emma and Killian have survived the crash before he’s charging toward Snow again. He’s just cleared another obstacle when he hears her voice.

“You have to run, Charming!”

He looks up to see that her captors are coming back to their senses, pulling her once again toward the door in the corner of the room.

“No! I’m not leaving you!” he shouts, making the next leap.

“GO!” she screams, twisting and kicking with all her strength.

He shakes his head furiously, panic crawling up his chest as he takes the first step on the dais. He stops there when a line of knights move in between him and Snow, too many to fight alone and almost inadvertently, he drops his eyes to the chest between their thrones.

“Don’t even think about it!” his wife bellows, “One of us has to be free!”

It was supposed to be you, he thinks, still eyeing the chest. He takes one step, already raising his hand to unlatch the lid when someone knocks hard into him, toppling him to the ground.

“You can’t!” Graham yells, “I know you wanted it this way, but you can’t! She’s right: One of you has to stay free!”

It’s like the world pauses then and he twists his head to look at his beautiful wife. She’s still fighting but they almost have her to the door. There’s noise all around them, the fight still ensuing but all he sees is her, the crown on her head slightly askew and her flawlessly pale skin smudged with dirt and dust.

His eyes mist and he knows this is it: this is the last moment he’ll see her for who knows how long. The guards aren’t trying to kill her. They obviously have orders to take her alive. Whereas him, well, that line of knights is already moving forward with their swords raised and at the ready. There’s an instant when they block his view of her and he struggles wildly against Graham until he has her in his sights once again. Their eyes lock, the jade depths of hers begging him to get out, begging him to survive and his throat closes.

“I will find you, Snow,” he vows, because now everything has clicked into place, no matter how badly he wanted this to play out differently. “I will always find you.”

His last glimpse of her shows her face morphing to relief, her voice soft but strong. “I love you, Charming.”

She’s gone before he can reply, disappearing through the door, and the shout that releases from his throat feels like it tears right through his vocal chords. He wrestles out of Graham’s grip and vaults to his feet, utter madness filling him as he plunges his sword into one knight after the next. They fall and fall but there are more and more and it’s not long before Graham tugs him away, fighting to an open corridor and pushing him down the hall. They run for their lives, Graham placing a well-aimed jab of his sword to the loose stone in the wall. The painting in front of them swings open and he jumps through the narrow gap, turning to make sure Graham made it as well. But Graham didn’t even attempt the jump. Instead, he’s closing the painting.

David’s arm shoots out to stop it but Graham doesn’t relent.

“I’ll lead them away,” he says. “And if there’s any chance at all, I’ll try to get her out. Be safe, my King.”

The painting shuts and David is plunged into darkness, falling to his knees with his hand still pressed against the canvas. He stays there for a good long while, lungs heaving and tears staining his cheeks as he listens to the chaos on the other side, frantic orders being yelled to split up and check all the rooms. He considers staying. He wants to stay and fight, but the final look from Snow flashes through his mind.

He won’t let her down.

He’ll find a way to get back to her.

No matter how long it takes.

…

The memory blinks out and Merlin comes back into focus, his too-knowing eyes set dead on him like he’s just seen the same thing.

“Is this a trick?” he asks, his voice harder than he intended.

“No trick. I’ll take you to her – but,” he raises a finger, “I must warn you: You’ll not be able to wake her.”

“WHAT?!” he roars.

Merlin seems completely unimpressed with his rage, continuing calmly, “She’s guarded by a protection spell and I’m afraid no one but the Evil Queen herself can breach it.”

“A spell the most powerful wizard ever can’t break?” Lance asks with incredulity. “It sure sounds like a trick to me.”

“It’s not a trick,” Merlin insists, eyeing each of them, “Regina used blood magic to cast the spell and there’s no way around it. I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried!”

“So, what’s the point in taking him, then?” Lance asks.

But it doesn’t matter to David. Seeing Snow again, even if he can’t touch her, is worth the risk but he doesn’t have time to voice that opinion before Merlin’s eyebrows raise.

“Because, we need to cast a protection spell of our own.”

David’s stomach drops to the floor. “Why?” he demands, “Is she in danger?”

“Not at this very moment, but she soon will be. Regina was satisfied with keeping her under the curse but once she realizes Emma has her magic, it will only be a matter of time.”

David goes completely still. “What makes you think Emma has her magic?” he asks.

Merlin chuckles. “Foresight, remember?”

David mulls that over, still not completely convinced the wizard is trustworthy.

“Look, I can do it myself if you prefer. Just give me a drop of your blood and I’ll cast the spell alone. I just thought you’d like to see her.”

“I do,” David replies instantly. “I’ll go with you.”

“Are you sure, Majesty?” Lancelot asks, stepping forward.

“Yes,” he insists, looking over to his friend. “It’s worth the risk just to be able to see her.”

Lance’s eyes soften the tiniest bit and Charming gets the feeling the knight is thinking of something – or someone – else for an instant.

“You’re right. Love is worth the risk.”

David turns back to Merlin. “When do we leave?”

“Right now,” Merlin replies, holding out his hand.

K&EK&EK&E

Regina has always hated the smell of the sea - its rank, salty, fishy scent. But she meanders the dock anyway, the long piers filled with ships abustle with activity as cargo is loaded and unloaded. Her eyes search every mast, every flag, a little annoyed when she realizes how many kingdoms seem to use this harbor as a means of trade. And even more annoyed that none of the flags are the one she’s looking for. There are pirate ships, yes, many of them, but her prey hasn’t shown his colors yet.

There are several men who send her looks of interest and she realizes perhaps it would have been wiser to pick a more homely woman to clone. One of them even has the courage to head her way but she crooks a finger and a rope falls into his path, making him trip and flush with embarrassment. She would much rather have made that large and very heavy looking crate fall, but an accident of that magnitude would draw attention. People’s morbid curiosity is a predictable human response and she doesn’t want half the city here to investigate.

Self-control is a huge asset when you’re trying to blend in.

The day grows late and she’s sweaty and tired, more impatient than ever when, suddenly, a familiar looking head of dark hair disembarks from a ship close by. Smiling slyly to herself, she follows him away from the docks, a plan forming in her head.

K&EK&EK&E

The holster is digging into Emma’s chest but the weight of the dagger is oddly comforting. Walking to the mirror, she takes a deep breath and lets it out, watching carefully to make sure the blade is completely concealed. Behind her, she can hear Killian’s movements, getting ready himself. They work in silence, apprehension weighing down the air, their impending separation looming more heavily on both their minds than she had anticipated.

They’ll only be apart for a short time. She’ll go straight to the square and he’ll meet her there as soon as he’s finished ordering supplies for the Jolly Roger. An hour at most. It’s not so very long. He’ll meet her at the square and everything will be fine.

Everything will be fine.

But a lot can happen in an hour. And they don’t have any clue what they’re walking into. Outside of it being an unpredictable city at best, it’s been months since Killian was last there and it could be overrun with black knights by now. Jefferson swears that’s nearly impossible. He is ‘The Hatter,’ after all; his spy network is extensive and news of black knights in Portsmouth would not escape his attention. But even without black knights (probably) there’s still so many things that could go wrong…

And Killian knows it, too. That’s why neither of them are speaking. That’s why the heavy air feels ripe with dread. That’s why their movements are measured and precise. They’re both on the edge of their nerves, both filled with apprehension. And both afraid that one word would send the other into a panic.

She practices drawing the dagger from its sheath a few times to distract herself. Just as Patricia promised, it makes no sound at all but the quick movement catches Killian’s attention and their eyes meet in the mirror. He’s wearing a grim expression that matches the tight knot in her stomach and his hand is arrested on the buttons of his black shirt. Their eyes hold in the reflection as she slides the dagger back home but then he dips his chin and goes back to buttoning (very few) of the buttons on the shirt.

Before he can reach for it himself, Emma picks up his vest and holds it out for him to slip on. There are still no words but the finger he uses to reverently trace her chin while she fastens the buckles speaks volumes. Her heart is beating so hard that she can hear it in her head and her hands are damp and shaky. She fumbles one of the clasps and his hand covers hers, squeezing it while she draws a steadying breath. Once the buckles are fastened, she rests her hands on his chest and realizes his heart is pounding, too.

With slow movements, he reaches for his belt and scabbard, applying it to his waist. While he attends to that, she walks over and takes his leather coat from the peg she’d hung it on days ago. He slides his arms in and she pulls the collar up to his neck, rounding to the front of him to position the lapel and run her hands over the shoulders of the leather.

Stepping back, she studies the finished product from head to toe while he does the same to her. He’s Captain Hook again, but… not. He’s Killian Jones, dressed up for a charade that he’s played many times. And she’s costumed as a tavern wench with daggers in both her corset and her boot.

They’re ready.

They both move in the same instant, like opposing wave crashing together, the stormy kiss that follows filled with desperation – with promises to be careful – with fear and worry and too many other emotions to name. She has no idea how long it lasts but their lips never part; the release of anxiety near brutal in its force. But somewhere in the middle, it changes, lips softening and slowing, fingers gliding tenderly over chins and necks. The gentleness doesn’t last, though, and it changes back, a whirlwind of passion that has them moaning into each other’s mouths. Her fingers begin to ache from the hold she has on his collar, using it to guide his head first one way and then the next. His head is at a severe tilt to delve his tongue deep when the knock sounds at the door. They ignore it at first, too desperate for more time to break apart just yet, but when the insistent bang sounds, they regretfully separate.

“Come in,” Killian calls, maintaining a vice grip on her waist when he turns to the door.

Jeff, Patricia, Ruby and Dopey all walk in, Jeff and Patricia dressed as pirate and tavern wench as well, and they gather around the table, going over the details of the plan one last time.

Once they’ve recapped the everything, Patricia looks to Ruby with nervous eyes. “Remember, Ruby, Grace needs to stay below until we return. She won’t be happy about it but – ”

“Don’t worry,” Ruby interrupts, taking both Patricia’s hands in hers, “She and I are going to be in the galley. I’ve promised to let her help me make some cookies. My grandmother taught me how to shape them like animals and we’re going to put together a full menagerie by the time you return.”

“Thank you,” Patricia says, squeezing Ruby’s hands, the word filled with more than simple appreciation.

“We’ll keep her safe,” Ruby promises and Dopey nods vigorously in agreement.

“Dopey, you’ll be on deck,” Killian puts in, “Keep an eye open for anything suspicious. And I mean anything. If, at any time you feel like there’s something amiss, send Ruby immediately and set sail. Grace has been taught all of the commands for the Jolly and the old girl will answer to them.”

Dopey nods again, placing his fist against his heart.

The Jolly’s bell rings and Killian looks up. “Okay, that’s our cue. I need to steer us into the harbor. Jeff, Dopey, let’s get up there.”

He starts to turn but Emma catches his hand, pulling him back and into a fierce hug.

“I’ll come back down once we’ve docked,” he breathes into her neck and she nods, too choked up to reply.

Emma paces the floor while she waits. She knows she needs to stay out of sight until Jeff and Killian have left and Dopey has given the signal, but she wishes she could be on deck with him, treasuring these last few minutes.

The Jolly groans to a stop and Killian immediately appears, descending the ladder with haste saying, “There aren’t a lot of people about but they’re watching. Jeff and I should move fast before more show up.”

His feet hit the floor and she’s in his arms before she can reply, his mouth solid and ravenous on hers. But now, there are too many words to say and with each break of lips they’re whispered urgently to the other.

“Be careful.” “I’ll see you soon.” “Stay with Patricia.” “Don’t worry.” “It will be fine.” “It’s only a short while.”

Each utterance is punctuated with a deeper kiss, a tighter grip, until the words dissolve between their joined mouths and they’re clinging to each other with all their strength.

Jeff’s boot lands hard near the opening of the hatch and their lips break long enough for Killian to glance toward the sound. Swallowing hard, she tells herself to release him, to let go of his collar so he can leave with Jeff. But she can’t let go. She can’t let him leave without telling him… He needs to know… Just in case… When he looks back to her, his eyes are filled with the same conflict she feels, studying her with such intensity that her heart skips a beat.

“Killian…”

But he covers her lips with his thumb, his breathing heavy. He wants to say it first. She can feel it in the way his fingers reverently move from her chin to glide across her cheek. She can see it in the way he shuffles restlessly in front of her.

He wants to say it.

“Emma, I…”

He wants to… but he’s still scared.

Say it.

His fingers contract in her hair.

I love you.

He shakes his head, blue eyes landing on hers with apology and regret shining in them.

“Please be safe, love. Please just… Be safe.”

He’s gone before she can swallow the lump in her throat – before she can return the sentiment and her eyes fill with tears. Be safe, she prays. I love you.

The silence is deafening as she glances around the room. The Jolly feels empty in his absence.

As does her heart.

K&EK&EK&E

David’s stomach lurches when his feet land on solid ground again, the sensation of weightlessness not a pleasant one in the least, but he pushes past it, eagerly scanning the room for his wife.

“She’s not here,” Merlin says, immediately laying his hand over the one David was just about to move to his sword.

“We need some supplies first,” he explains, “I can’t cast the spell with your blood alone.”

David’s posture relaxes. “So where are we then?” he asks.

“Regina’s storeroom. Just give me a few minutes to gather what we’ll need.”

David nods and eases back, scanning the room. The light isn’t very good but it’s adequate enough and there’s a strange and musty smell in the air. The walls are lined with cabinets, all of them with different sized drawers and Merlin busies himself with opening one after the next until he finds whatever it is he’s looking for. With the wave of a hand, a fire ignites in the hearth, illuminating a black iron kettle hanging over the flames. He works with impressive efficiency, tossing one thing after another into the pot.

After a time, David moves to the center of the room where a table is set up and he runs his finger over the rim of a bowl, glancing over to Merlin.

“Go ahead and ask,” the wizard says.

David frowns. It’s annoying, this whole foresight thing. “Do I even need to?”

“You want to know why I didn’t help Arthur along a bit more, yes?”

“Yes,” David confirms.

“Well, here’s the thing,” the wizard says, still focused on his task, “I’m not a prophet. I know that’s a common misconception, but I’m not the person who prophesied Arthur’s quest. I was only the one to deliver it. As to why I didn’t help more?”

He pauses there, and David gets the feeling he doesn’t really want to answer that question. Still, he straightens and turns, looking David directly in the eye. “I couldn’t.”

“What do you mean you couldn’t? Even if you’re not the prophet, you can see the future. You could have given him more to go on.”

“Actually, no…” and now the reluctance is obvious, but his eyes stay on David, “because I can’t see that part.”

“What does that mean?” he asks.

“It means that none of my visions include Excalibur.”

David feels his eyes widen. “What?! Why?”

Merlin goes back to his work, tossing something that looks like a dead insect into the kettle. “I’m not positive, but I think it’s Excalibur itself that blocks my vision. It’s the most powerful magical object in the world and, if myth is to be believed… it’s greedy. That’s why it has the power to strip magical beings of their abilities. It’s wants all the power to itself.”

David takes a moment to let that sink in. “So you didn’t know where the dagger was, or even how to reunite the blades,” he surmises slowly.

Merlin nods, “And I don’t know how or when Excalibur will be used. I can’t see anything relating to it.”

David exhales a long breath. “Which means you can’t tell me if Emma will be successful in using it against Regina.”

Merlin looks almost apologetic. “Exactly.”

David feels like the wind has been knocked out of him, his head spinning. He’d thought that having Merlin on their side nearly sealed victory but now…

“What have you seen? Have you seen Snow awaken? Have you seen the kingdom under her and my rule once again?”

Merlin is shaking his head and David’s pulse jumps to an alarming rate.

“So Regina will win?” he asks, his voice so tight it’s almost imperceptible.

“I don’t know,” the wizard replies sadly. “The last vision I have is you, reuniting with your daughter. After that, everything goes black.”

Merlin turns away to check the potion but David senses there’s something else, something that’s weighing him down. Then, with sudden and complete clarity, it comes to him.

“You can’t see it because you die?” he asks.

Merlin’s head raises but he doesn’t turn around. “I don’t know,” he says again, a small sigh accompanying it. He fiddles with the pot for another moment and then he turns, holding a vial in his hand.

“It’s ready,” he says, dismissing any further conversation regarding his possible demise. Crossing the room, he holds out a needle and the vial. “You just need to add one drop of your blood and then we’ll be able to trump Regina’s magic.”

David takes the needle and adds the required drop.

“Now, let’s go see your wife,” Merlin says, holding his hand out.

The weightless feeling is back but this time he’s more prepared and he lands with a solid ‘thunk,’ his eyes immediately searching… and finding Snow, laid out on an alter only feet from where they landed.

He walks forward in slow motion, his heart an odd mixture of hammering beats and pure peace. She’s still stunning. She’s still the fairest thing he’s ever seen and his ears buzz as he comes to a stop right next to her. Her hands are folded serenely over her stomach, her gown still the same one he last saw her in. Mesmerized, he reaches out to stroke her cheek but, before his fingers make contact, excruciating pain shoots up his arm and a blast of energy sends him flying through the air. He has one split second to brace for the impact of the hard, stone floor but instead he lands on a thick, soft mattress.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist,” Merlin tells him with a mixture of sympathy and mirth, his eyebrow cocked at an amused angle, and David begrudgingly admits to himself that foresight isn’t as annoying when it’s saving your backside from a severe bruising.

“Thank you,” he says, getting back to his feet.

The wizard nods in acknowledgment and steps back from the alter, giving David enough room to approach his wife again. This time he stops a few inches from her, his eyes drinking in every detail of her face. Slowly, he feels a grin spread across his features, just staring at the smooth skin, just watching the subtle rise and fall of her chest. She’s gotten some gray at her temple, just like him but, somehow, it only enhances her beauty, the realization of which makes his heart feel lighter.

“Can she hear us?” he asks Merlin without looking away.

“I’m afraid she can’t, but there’s a chance we could… send her a message, as it were.”

“How?” David asks, his eyes darting to the wizard.

Merlin looks a little hesitant to explain, his eyes lowering to the ground. “A sleeping curse… It’s not a pleasant place to be, but we could… invade that for a bit.”

“So I could talk to her?”

“Not in the conventional sense, but we could send her a memory. It would have to be one that’s strong enough to push past the spell, but I feel certain we could accomplish it, if you want to try.”

“Yes,” David immediately responds. “What do I need to do?”

“Take my hand,” Merlin replies, stepping up to stand next to him.

Merlin extends his other hand over Snow’s forehead as David reaches out but just before their fingers touch, he stops.

“Wait, will you be seeing the same thing?” he asks.

Merlin grins mischievously. “Yes, so if you could keep it PG, I’d appreciate it.”

“PG?” he asks in confusion.

Merlin’s grin grows. “Just… I’d rather not see your daughter’s conception, if you know what I mean.”

“Riiiight,” David replies.

Drawing a deep breath, David lands his palm against Merlin’s and closes his eyes, his vision immediately engulfed by the one memory that he prays will give her the most hope…

“And you can’t get married without this,” she says, pulling the pouch from under her arm and handing it to him.

It takes more effort than it should to look away from those enchanting green eyes so that he can open the pouch and inspect the contents.

He finds his mother’s ring and holds it up. “I know, not your style, right?” he asks.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out…” she replies, her fingers closing around it and sliding it onto her finger before he can blink.

She’s holding her hand out, her eyes focused on the gem when he feels the tug in his stomach, the air around them suddenly twinkling with… something. She darts her eyes between his and the ring for a moment and he can’t stop staring at how red her lips are, how immaculate her porcelain skin looks when it blushes the slightest bit.

“No, not me at all,” she says in an unconvincing tone, removing the ring and handing it back to him.

The memory goes blurry and something pulls at his lungs. Gripping Merlin’s hand tighter, he skips ahead and rushes through the part he wants to remind her of most of all.

“If you ever need anything – ”

“You’ll find me?”

“Always.”

There’s a yank at his naval and he gasps for breath, coming back to the present in a dizzy fog that has spots appearing in his vision. Another tug and he’s on the floor, the stone hard on his shoulder. Shaking his head, he tries to focus but those spots, they’re not clearing, they’re flashing brighter and brighter and…

Reality snaps back, a crackling sound assailing his ears as he realizes those weren’t spots at all but the protective spell over Snow violently pulsing in and out over and over again until it dissipates with a final burst of light. Stunned, he stares at the altar, Merlin’s hand holding a death grip on his arm from where he’d pulled him out of harm’s way.

“That’s impossible,” Merlin whispers, his voice louder than it should sound due to the sudden stillness.

“What’s impossible?” David asks.

“The spell is down.”

“We broke it?” David asks in joyous disbelief, already gaining his feet.

Before Merlin has time to answer, a golden drawer along the back wall pops open, and David freezes, watching as a purple fog appears and surrounds it. A whooshing sound fills the air, the smoke condensing in until it’s so thick it appears black, then with a loud crack, it vanishes.

“She needed a heart,” the wizard breathes.

The words jolt David out of his stupor and he launches toward Snow.

“NO, David, DON’T!”

But he doesn’t heed the warning, not when he’s got this chance. His hand finds her cheek, still as smooth as ever, and time seems to suspend around them. He bends to kiss her, his eyes focused on the full, red lips… Finally… Finally, her eyes will open, she’ll say his name, she’ll smile at him for the first time in ages…

K&EK&EK&E

Emma has to admire the efficiency with which Patricia operates. Her mind is solely on the mission and she doesn’t waver once in her course as they trudge through the city. She wonders vaguely how she came to know the streets so well (perhaps she lived here at one time?) but she doesn’t ask because the longer she’s away from Killian, the more nervous she becomes and she doesn’t want to delay the journey in any way.

As they wind their way through the streets, the rumbling of raised voices fills the air along with the aroma of spices and the smell of meat being cooked. Two more turns and they’re in the marketplace and Emma nearly gasps at the grandeur of it. It’s huge and alive with activity, children running through the tightly knitted booths with laughter ringing out in their wake, vendors calling out to advertise their wares, musicians playing their various instruments on corners with hats left out to collect tips from the consumers.

It’s the exact opposite of what Emma had anticipated. She’d expected dirty streets and questionable people, something on the surface that would hint at the clandestine operations and outright violence the city is known for. But the energy surrounding her is almost celebratory, and she finds herself smiling in wonder. She’s just about to step past Patricia to get a better look when the woman shoots an arm out to stop her.

“A word of warning, Highness,” she whispers, “People here may look innocent, but not all are. Keep your purse close. There are pickpocketers everywhere. And don’t flash your gold around. That will make you a target faster than you can say ‘the Evil Queen is dead.’”

Emma nods, twining her fingers through her purse strings.

“Stay with me. This place can turn in an instant. It’s not unheard of for fights to break out in the streets but so long as we’re together, everything will be fine.”

Emma nods and Patricia enters the marketplace. They browse several booths in an effort to blend in but they continue to steadily make their way to the center. The vendors, themselves, are friendly and offer fair prices, selling anything from ladies’ ribbons to fresh grown vegetables to antique weapons. The aroma is intoxicating as well, foreign spices hanging in the air along with the smell of cooked meats that are being sold on wooden skewers.

As they round the last corner, something prickles under Emma’s skin, an uneasy feeling that has her searching in every direction. Whatever it is, it’s got the hairs on the back of her head standing on end, but she’s distracted before she has time to consider it further by a resounding cheer that sounds for a juggler who is currently performing on a raised platform in the middle of the square.

Her eyes immediately start looking for Killian. The sun is starting to set which makes her search of the crowd take longer than it should and she’s just about to start panicking when a hush descends, a gap appearing on the other side of the crowd.

He saunters in with his hook resting on the hilt of his sword and Jefferson standing to his right, both of them exuding danger and excitement. A rush of astounded whispers ensues, the most prevalent of which is: ‘He’s alive,’ and Emma finds herself smiling when Killian quirks a brow at the crowd as if to respond, ‘Of course I’m alive. Did you think for a second that the Evil Queen would best me?’

The appearance of Captain Hook is so disruptive that even the juggler loses his concentration and the batons he’d been flinging through the air clatter to the ground around him, bouncing off in different directions. One of the batons rolls to a stop right in front of Killian and the astounded whispers quiet as the crowd watches with baited breath when Captain Hook bends to retrieve it.

Examining it with vague interest, he expertly twirls it through his fingers and Emma can feel a new tension settle among the observers, none of them quite sure how he will react. In the end, though, he simply spins the baton off the tip of his thumb, tossing it up and catching it in one smooth motion before lobbing it back to its owner. The juggler looks like he’s just earned a reprieve from the gallows and the audience lets out an audible sigh of relief on his behalf. After gathering his other batons, the man looks to Killian again and Killian waves a hand at him in an indication that he should continue his performance.

As soon as the man starts juggling again, Killian’s eyes seek out hers. Emma has to hide the smile that threatens when Killian finds her, his shoulders sagging in noticeable relief. Raising a brow, he tips his head toward the juggler with amusement and the smile she'd been trying to hold back spreads across her face. She can certainly see why Jeff and Patricia didn't seem to mind this splitting up plan. There's something exciting about being incognito, pretending to be someone else and fooling everyone around you.

A cheer goes up when the juggler finishes his routine and the crowd begins to disburse. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Patricia nod to Jeff and they start moving away from the square, turning down a nearly deserted street of shops that have all closed up for the night. She can hear Jeff’s and Killian’s footsteps behind them as they walk but she doesn’t look back. Patricia keeps up a casual conversation, making it appear that Emma (Gwen) is new to the city and she is showing her around.

After another turn, Patricia slows and indicates with her head toward one of the buildings. When Emma looks, she sees a sign hanging above the door that reads, simply, ‘Mable’s.’

“She’s one of the best seamstresses in the city,” Patricia says. “I wonder if she’d be available to mend this rip in my dress.”

“It looks like the shop is closed for the night,” Emma replies, in an effort to play along.

Patricia rolls her eyes, pulling Emma along behind her. “Nonsense, she’s an old friend of mine. I bet if we stop for a visit, she’d do it without my even asking.”

Mable is a kindly looking older woman with a round belly and a welcoming smile. She’s obviously surprised to see Patricia but she recovers quickly and invites them in for tea. As soon as the door shuts, Mable’s arms wrap around Patricia in a crushing hug. “I’ve been so worried. Are Jeff and Hook with you?”

“Yes, they’re coming in the back.”

The three of them hurry to the back and when Killian walks in, Emma is already moving to embrace him but Mable beats her to it, nearly knocking down both men with how forcefully she hugs them.

“How dare you two lads worry me like this! I’ve been terrified since I heard that story of black knights attacking the Jolly.”

“We didn’t mean to, I assure you,” Jeff sooths, patting Mable on the back.

It’s another minute before she releases them but she keeps a hand in each of theirs, stepping back to appraise them. Emma notices the way her chest expands, looking at both of them like a proud mother who hasn’t seen her children in too long.

“Well, the two of you together again,” she says wistfully, cupping both of their cheeks. “I’m so happy to see you. And look at you, Jeff, all dressed up like a pirate. I’d forgotten how handsome you were with that kohl.”

Jeff rocks back on his heels with a smug smile, winking at his wife and Killian clears his throat loudly.

Mable laughs, “And you, Hook, how could anyone forget those eyes of yours? Two of the most stunningly handsome men to sail the seas.”

Patricia scoffs, “Please Mable, their egos don’t need any more puffing up – ”

But Mable shushes her, “I can puff them up if I want to. They saved my life – and yours – and everyone else’s back home. I think that warrants a little ego puffing. But – while I’m sure you two would enjoy another hour of me fawning over you, I don’t think that’s the point of your visit.”

“No, it’s not,” Jeff says.

Mable motions to the stairs. “Well, you’d best come in then. I’ll make some tea and we’ll talk.”

Jeff, Patricia and Mable start up the steps and Emma goes to follow but Killian’s hook catches her wrist and hauls her into his chest.

It’s a long, relief-filled kiss that ends with an affectionate rubbing of his nose against hers while his hand weaves itself into her hair. They breathe the same air for several heartbeats before he steps back and waves his hook toward the stairwell.

“After you, love,” he says with a twinkle in his eye and Emma precedes him up the steps.

Mable eyes them suspiciously over the tea service she’s carrying as they walk into the room, her eyes darting to their interlaced fingers. After setting the tea on the table, she straightens and heads directly toward Emma.

“I don't believe I've had the pleasure,” she says, blocking Emma’s path.

Jeff sniggers and Patricia lifts a hand to cover her grin.

“This is Gwen,” Killian lies easily, “We met in Arendelle a few weeks ago.”

Mable’s eyes narrow, looking Emma up and down and crossing her arms. “In Arendelle, you say?” she asks thoughtfully, tapping her foot on the floor, “Another site of recent black knight activity.”

Emma is shocked by the implication the old woman adds to her tone, sudden and clear distrust in her eyes.

“What was your story?” she asks, stepping into Emma’s personal space, “It must have been a good one to weave your way onto Hook’s ship.”

“She's not a spy, Mable,” Killian says, pulling Emma back so that he can step between the two of them.

“How do you know?” Mable asks. “Don't you find the timing a bit suspicious?”

“Believe me, she's no spy and her story is her own.”

Killian’s voice has turned hard and Mable stares him down, searching his eyes until she’s satisfied with whatever she sees there. After a beat, she steps back with a nod, and Emma is surprised how quickly that stubborn look morphs into a full-fledged grin. “Well then, you should let her come in so I can get a look at her.”

Killian steps away and Mable raises her hands to Emma’s cheeks. The assessing look she gives her makes her want to squirm but she manages not to, holding her gaze steady while Mable makes her appraisal.

“You’d better treat him right, girl, or you'll have me to answer to,” the woman says with meaning and Emma feels her cheeks flush when Killian chuckles next to her.

“Now,” Mable says, indicating for everyone to sit, “I'm sure you're here looking for information but the most popular rumors going around are one’s you would know the most about. What the hell happened? How did black knights get aboard the Jolly and why are the two of you here together? What's so important that you'd risk Hook’s cover?”

“Regina has figured out our little plot, Mable,” Jeff says grimly. “She had Grace kidnapped and forced me to allow her knights onto the Jolly.”

Mable’s eyes widen, already starting to rise. “Where is she? Is she okay? Do you need my help to find her? I’ll kill – ”

“She’s fine. We got her back,” Patricia sooths, laying a hand on Mable’s shoulder and pushing the feisty old woman back into her chair. “She’s aboard the Jolly. We just wanted to make sure it was safe before we brought her into town.”

Mable looks overwhelmingly relieved but it doesn’t last. “So, the Evil Queen knows, does she?” she comments thoughtfully, “That would explain a lot.”

“Explain what?” Killian asks.

“Got a message from Will that she showed up personally to investigate Hook’s escape,” Mable replies gravely, “Ransacked Jeff’s store, killed some poor woman at the tavern before Queen Katherine stepped in.”

Killian stiffens beside her, everyone falling silent to gather their thoughts.

“So, she’s coming after me herself,” Killian murmurs softly.

“She’s coming after all of us,” Patricia points out.

“Well, she wouldn’t have found anything at the store,” Jeff says, “Will and the others would have cleaned it out as soon as they realized we were gone, so she won’t have any leads on where to start looking. Everyone’s cover should be safe.”

There’s another pause in conversation before Patricia speaks up. “What about here, Mable? Has anything out of the ordinary happened?”

“Nothing that I’ve heard about. No one has missed a check-in and the most recent batch of supplies was sent out to Misthaven yesterday. Joseph and Phoebe checked in two days ago – they own the tavern now, you know – and the most interesting things going around there are the number of theories surrounding Hook’s escape and The Hatter’s disappearance.”

“My disappearance?” Jeff asks. “I didn’t think that would be common knowledge.”

“Well, apparently, it is and the two of you are causing quite a few debates. Most people are of the opinion that they are unrelated incidents but there are a few who believe they are somehow connected.”

“Connected how?”

Mable shrugs, her eyes landing on Killian. “Some think that the Evil Queen attacking Captain Hook indicates that he’s not all he seems to be,” she says with meaning, “They figure if the Evil Queen is after him, there must be a reason. Some have even taken to the theory that he and The Hatter are partners.”

She stops there but keeps her eyes on Killian and Emma gets the feeling she’s walked into the middle of an old argument.

“Well, we’re not going to confirm or deny any of that, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Killian says.

Mable presses her lips together stubbornly but doesn’t comment.

Patricia, though, shows no such restraint. “We could, you know?”

“But we won’t,” Killian replies with finality.

“Why not?” Jeff argues. “The point was to keep the connection from Regina and she knows now, so why – ”

“And how would we do it?” Killian interrupts with sarcasm. “You want me to just make an announcement in the middle of the tavern? No one would believe it.”

“I could do it,” Jeff says.

“And why would they believe you?” Killian asks. “No one knows what The Hatter looks like. You think you can just waltz in there, say you’re The Hatter and everyone will trust you?”

The three of them all deflate at that and Killian softens his tone. “Look, I know none of you like it, but Jeff’s anonymity and my reputation is the backbone of this operation and we all know it. I don’t need to be seen as a hero. What I need is the air of ruthlessness. That’s what makes ships surrender as soon as they see the Jolly’s sails. If you start painting me as some benevolent soul, they may not be so eager to raise their white flags.”

Emma’s heart thuds in her chest, only now realizing how difficult it must have been on him to keep up the pirate persona all these years. It’s obviously something Jeff, Patricia and Mable don’t want for him, but he’s done it anyway. And he did it to save lives. Her heart surges with love and she links her fingers with his, drawing his gaze to hers and earning a squeeze of his hand.

There’s a moment of silence before Jeff acquiesces. “Fine, we’ll continue with the charade,” he says with a sigh, dismissing the subject. “Is there anything else Mable?”

“Nothing,” she replies, looking less than happy herself.

Jeff pushes to his feet. “Well, then, we’ll head to the tavern just to make sure nothing new has happened and, if nothing is amiss, we’ll be back tomorrow with Grace in tow.”

Mable stands as well, giving Jeff a hug. “I’ll get some rooms ready for you. You’re welcome to stay here until you get settled.”

“Thank you, Mable,” Patricia says, hugging the old lady as well.

Emma is surprised when she’s the next to receive a hug from the woman, her eyes warm and full of appreciation. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Gwen. I can’t tell you how happy I am that Hook finally found a woman who can put up with him.”

She smiles at Hook over Emma’s shoulder and pulls him into the hug as well, and if Emma’s not mistaken, her eyes mist when she steps back.

“Now, off with you youngsters. And bring that sweet child to see me tomorrow. I’ve got a dress I made from the last batch of silk you sent me that will be beautiful on her.”

K&EK&EK&E

David’s lips are less than a hairsbreadth away from Snow’s, his heart full of joy and his soul content. He’s about to have his wife back. The dream that has kept him sane over the past several years is about to be realized. She’ll be by his side when they see their daughter again. They’ll be together when the Evil Queen is defeated and they reclaim their kingdom…

But then –

Pain.

Pain like nothing he’s ever felt blossoms on his side – a burning and all-consuming pain that penetrates every cell of his being before he’s ripped away from heaven by a lightning fast yank on his arm.

He’s on the floor and he can’t breathe, Merlin’s hand frantically swiping over the blood stain that runs from his shoulder all the way to his knee. “She only lowered the spell long enough to call the heart to her,” the wizard tells him through the haze, “You were standing in its path when it reappeared.”

His lungs are on fire, the memory of that pain lingering on the outskirts of his of consciousness. It felt like he was being cut in half, like a blade was slicing right through him and it hits him hard just how close he was to death for that instant.

“Blood magic. It’s dangerous stuff,” Merlin murmurs.

David nods, unable to do anything else. His lungs are still protesting with exertion, like he’s just run a mile at top speed but slowly air becomes easier to breath. Merlin stays crouched next to him until he has recovered, looking more than a little concerned. Finally, his breath returns and he’s able to focus his thoughts again, his eyes landing on the wall of drawers.

“Whose heart did she need?” he wonders aloud.

“I don’t know, but it wasn’t mine,” Merlin replies, standing and offering his hand.

“What? What do you mean it wasn’t yours? She has your heart?”

“Yes. Mine is in the fourth drawer from the left, second row down,” the wizard tells him while pulling him to his feet, “Which is another reason we need to get this spell cast. There’s no telling what she could command me to do if she gets desperate.”

David doesn’t reply and Merlin turns away to get back to business, waving his hand over Snow in a wide arc. As he does, the silvery dome of Regina’s spell shimmers into sight and this time David traces along the edge with his eyes, only now seeing the way the barrier also protects the line of golden drawers behind his wife. The second wave of Merlin’s hand produces a second dome about a foot away from the first. Without a word, the wizard tips the vial over the glistening air and the seemingly fragile dome solidifies and burns bright red for a long instant that David can feel pulling at his veins. Then the wizard steps back and, without looking at him, reaches out to touch it. There’s a loud sizzle when Merlin’s fingers meet the edge and he snatches his hand away as the dome glows bright again.

“Now, you,” Merlin says.

David approaches carefully, lifting his arm in front of him. The closer he gets to the barrier, the faster his blood pumps but when he makes contact, his heart calms instantly and his hand pushes through without a single ounce of discomfort.

“Excellent,” he hears Merlin say.

David realizes then that he’s been holding his breath and it whooshes out in a relieved huff.

“We should get going before a patrol of black knights finds us.”

“I’m not leaving,” David declares.

Merlin rounds on him in surprise. (Apparently, even the most esteemed wizard there has ever been can be caught off guard upon occasion.)

“Your Majesty,” he tries to reason, “there’s nothing more you can do here. You’ll be discovered – ”

“Have you seen that?”

“Well, no, but visions aren’t like watching movies. I don’t see everything, only bits and pieces…”

David ignores the ‘movie’ reference, cutting back in, “Then you don’t know if I’ll be discovered.”

“I know there are other things you need to do and I know you can’t do them if you’re here!”

The argument on David’s tongue deflates, his eyes moving to Snow’s angelic face. Dammit, this is torture of the acutest kind. Being this close and being denied. He’d touched her – his fingers are still tingling from her skin – he’d nearly awoken her.

If only he’d been quicker…

If only he’d had ten more seconds…

If only…

If only he had another chance.

And maybe he will…

“Regina could lift the spell again,” he says with rushed words as the idea forms in his head, “It was down long enough. If it happens again, I could get her outside the spell, then awaken her. It could work. Regina will need to put the heart back, won’t she? Obviously, she doesn’t carry them around if they’re all here. She’ll lift the spell to put it back and I’ll move Snow as soon as it’s down. It may not even be that long to wait. Maybe if we just – ”

David cuts off his furious train of thought when he turns to Merlin, the image he sees making his heart freeze mid-beat.

Merlin’s eyes are glossed over, his irises not even visible. He’s standing completely still, hands at his sides but his breathing heavy and quick. It must be a vision, he thinks to himself, curiosity and unease filling his stomach with a heavy weight.

The wizard gasps and coughs as he comes out of it and David has to catch him to keep him from falling to the floor. After blinking several times, his irises return to their original brown, but they’re filled with alarm.

“She won’t be putting the heart back,” he says, “and we have to go. Right now. Emma needs help.”

Not as much CS in this chapter, but a lot of important stuff. The next one is slow going... but I hope to have it posted without too much delay. Wish me luck! And as always, I welcome your comments and theories!

#cs ff #cs ff au #Changing Tides #Captain Swan #captain swan fanfiction

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mayquita · 5 years

Text

Pictures of Reality (8/16)

Happy Thanksgiving for all those who celebrate! I’d like to take advantage of this festivity to thank all the @captainswanbigbang mods for doing an amazing job organizing this event. I’d also like to express my gratitude to all those who have given this story a chance, thanks for your likes, comments, kudos and reblogs. It means the world to me.

Rating: M (Language, mature themes, implied sex)

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, mentions of the loss of a limb in an armed conflict.

Artist / art: Go visit @imagnifika’s blog and enjoy her amazing art. There is no specific art for this chapter, but the picset of the previous chapter also serves for this. In addition, the photo from Emma's Instagram account will be part of the fan art that Kate has created for an upcoming chapter.

Art for the prologue/ Art for chapter 1 / Art for chapter 2 and banner / Art for chapter 3/ Art for chapters 4-5 / Art for chapters 6-7

Special mention to @saraswans , thank you so much for your perpetual support, for believing in me when I doubted myself and for offering ideas to make this story grow.

Don’t forget to go read and enjoy the rest of the amazing csbb stories and art.

Word count: ~ 10800 (116k total in 16 chapters)

Also on (From the beginning): Ao3 / Ffnet (Current Chapter) Ao3 / Ffnet

Tumblr: Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

What to expect from this chapter? It will be the longest of the entire fic for a reason, or for a few, actually. Several talks, a new couple in the making, some confessions, a snowball fight, photos (lots of them) and we’ll see if Killian is able to fulfill his part of the deal by helping his friends. In compensation for its absence in the last three chapters, this chapter will be written only from Emma’s pov.

CHAPTER 7

My dearest Emma,

I don't know how to start this letter... but I'll do my best. I don't even know if your adoptive parents have kept the name your mother chose for you. The social worker assured us that they had accepted, but I guess we'll always have that uncertainty. Anyway, for us, you will always be our Emma.

Today is a special day, your first birthday. I would like to send you my best wishes for this first celebration, the first of many, if only in the form of this letter, with the hope that perhaps one day, these words will come to you in one way or another.

Maybe we can establish a new tradition in our lives from now on, what do you think? Maybe we can take advantage of this special day to contact you through these little missives, to express how we feel in your absence, to convey that no matter how much time passes, you will always have a place in our hearts, Emma.

It's only been a year, but we've probably missed many of your most important milestones: your first smile, your first steps, maybe your first words. I hope your parents were able to immortalize those moments in some way. And maybe one day, you can help us to remember them through those images.

I would like to talk to you a little about us now. Your mother has already turned eighteen and has finally been able to leave the house of that evil woman, the person who managed to separate us from you. Now, she is living with us and nothing and nobody will be able to separate us - ever - despite all the obstacles that get in our way.

It's hard, though, to be separated from you and have no certainty of how you are, if you are growing up happy. I truly hope so and that with our act, we have managed to offer you a future. And maybe, in a few years, we will be part of that future as well.

Until then, I can only wish you a happy and full life.

Your father who loves you and never forgets you,

David.

Emma Swan. Storybrooke - December 9, 2017

The moment Killian came through the door to the classroom the following Saturday Emma knew something was wrong. As in the last class, the first thing he did was to look for her until their eyes met and he offered her a smile, but this time, his smile not only did not reach his eyes but it seemed forced.

Emma turned her gaze to the window on her left, and let her eyes roam the streets of Storybrooke, while a strange sensation settled in the pit of her stomach.

The images of their two shared kisses, those that she herself initiated, jumped into her mind at that moment as a reminder, or rather as a warning. Their dangerous game had begun at the moment when she, in a defiant and impulsive movement, had pulled him into a searing kiss, with the capacity of shaking her up and down both metaphorically and literally.

She had fled after throwing the "a one-time-thing" statement while cursing herself for letting her feelings, or rather, her physical impulses, cloud her reason.

She could not risk everything she had gotten when she decided to stay in Storybrooke, she should not let anything or anyone get too close to her heart since that would pose a threat, a possibility that it would be broken again.

But that damned Killian had gotten under her skin in such a way that she could not think of anything other than the softness of his lips against hers, his wrecked expression, his intense gaze bored into hers. She did not even need him to be in her presence, just a simple text sent by him or the memory of some of his explanations in his melodious voice were enough to make her body betray her, humming with a craving for more.

It was as if Storybrooke had weakened all her principles, causing the walls around her heart to begin to crack, as she had succumbed again to the temptation of his lips. And although she tried to convince herself, assuring herself that it was no more than a simple physical attraction, deep down she was aware that she was totally seduced by Killian.

Their second kiss had also been caused by an impulse. She could not bear to see the suffering reflected in his face, so she had acted in an almost desperate attempt to alleviate that suffering or at least make him forget for a moment.

Even though they had seen each other again after the kiss and his behavior had been the usual, perhaps he had understood her reluctance in the wrong way, or perhaps, even though she had not yet revealed much of herself, he had come to the conclusion that she was not worth the effort, maybe…

“Emma?”

The sound of a voice brought her back to reality. She straightened in her seat as her head turned in the direction of the sound, meeting Elsa and Anna and their inquiring looks, with a hint of concern in Elsa's eyes and one of amusement in her sister's.

"Are you okay?" Elsa asked quietly.

"Yeah, I got distracted." She mumbled a poor excuse, feeling a bit uncomfortable at their scrutiny.

"I bet I know the cause of your distraction." Anna said, tilting her head slightly in Killian's direction, her lips curled upward in a conspiratorial smile, as if they were sharing a secret, but to Emma, it meant that her sensation of uneasiness increased.

"Anna!" Elsa muttered under her breath, scolding her sister. Then she addressed Emma back. "Don’t listen to her. We just wanted to know if you would like to join us to practice."

"To practice..." Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion as her gaze roamed around the classroom. In fact, the rest of the students had split up into teams and were beginning to manipulate their devices. Emma shifted uncomfortably in her seat wondering how long she had been lost in thought.

"We’re practicing white balance." Elsa came to her rescue while giving her a soft smile.

Her sister, however, did not seem so diplomatic. "Wow, you were really distracted.” She grinned at her as she cast a sidelong glance at Killian.

Was she really that obvious? She had to find out. "What do you mean?"

Anna rolled her eyes as she deliberately ignored her sister's warning look. "Do you remember that our ice cream parlor is in front of Granny's? We were witnesses of an intimate moment between you two on Sunday."

Emma felt a flush of embarrassment burning her cheeks as she wished to merge with her seat and disappear. She recovered rapidly though. No way was she going to show any hint of vulnerability to two people she barely knew. "It was just a kiss." She muttered in a dismissive tone while shrugging her shoulders. "And we'd better start practicing." She added in an attempt to change the subject.

Elsa nodded and grabbed her camera, but Anna did not seem to take the hint, much to her disgrace.

"Just a kiss?" She snorted, getting some heads to turn in her direction. "Are you kidding me? You two were making out." Emma opened her mouth to interrupt her, but Anna continued with her speech. "And it's not that I was stalking you, or anything like that. I was just waiting for Kristoff, but you two were giving quite the show out there." Emma's cheeks began to burn again as her desire to fade or run away increased. At least Anna was wise enough to mumble her words, but after a small pause to take a breath, she continued. "Isn’t it the coolest thing? The teacher and the student sharing a romantic moment?"

"Anna - enough! Don’t you see that you're making her feel uncomfortable?" Elsa hissed, coming to her rescue again. But Emma’s relief was short-lived. After giving one last warning glance to her sister, Elsa turned to her, her lips drawing a shy smile. "I know it's none of my business, but you two make a beautiful couple, Emma."

"Ahem, ladies, I wouldn’t like to interrupt your deep conversation, but it may be more convenient if you leave it for the end of the class. We have work to do now." This time it was Killian who came to her rescue, although his intervention did nothing to mitigate her embarrassment. In fact, it was quite the contrary, as Emma felt like a child receiving a reprimand after committing mischief.

At least his attention call got her teammates to finally leave her alone. It was almost comical to see how their contrite expressions matched as they both turned their eyes to their respective cameras. Emma cast a sidelong glance at Killian, anxious and fearful of what she might find. When their eyes met, he cocked his head slightly and arched one of his eyebrows, as if he wanted to make sure she was okay. She nodded silently, curling her lips into a small smile. To her relief, Killian returned a genuine smile, while his eyes remained locked with her own, causing a warm sensation to spread to her heart, making the previous tension and uncertainty fade away.

The rest of the class continued smoothly. Once the two sisters decided to leave behind their gossip and focus on photography, Emma found herself enjoying the practice. Both, Elsa and Anna, were pleasant company and seemed to have a genuine interest in learning. She was grateful to feel included in a group, to be part of something, contrary to what happened in the first class.

The class came to an end without Emma hardly noticing. Reluctant to leave so soon, she took her time collecting her belongings as she watched the others leave the classroom. The last ones to leave were the two sisters and Emma tensed instantly, fearing that they would try to hook her into an embarrassing conversation again. That did not happen though, since Elsa practically dragged her sister towards the exit. Before leaving, both turned and waved, while Anna pointed her head in a non-subtle gesture towards Killian. After Elsa's last gentle pull, both finally disappeared from her sight.

Killian didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave either, since he remained in his seat, his gaze focusing on some files on his desk. After taking a deep breath, Emma slung the camera bag over one shoulder and approached him.

"I'm sorry for what happened before," she commented, pointing to her seat as she looked at him from under her lashes.

When Killian looked up and met her gaze, she swallowed and licked her lips instinctively, cursing inwardly at the power he had over her. Only an intense look on his part was enough for her to get lost in his stormy blue eyes. But if he also smiled at her the way he was smiling now, she lost all ability to function properly. Bastard.

"It's okay, lass." He replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "The only reason I interrupted the conversation was because you didn’t seem especially comfortable."

“Thank you… I guess.”

They remained silent for a few seconds, while Killian got up and began to gather his belongings. Emma stood there, hesitating whether to leave or wait for him, but then she caught a shadow darkening his expression, just as at the beginning of the class.

It was then that she remembered something. Killian had told her that he would talk to his friends to clear things up. Maybe that conversation hadn’t gone well? "Are you... Are you okay? You seem a little off.” Killian's face softened instantly. "Everything is fine, love. A little tired, that's all." Killian assured her in a tone that seemed convincing, but that did not quite reassure her, not when his smile did not reach his eyes. "You managed to fix things with your friends?" Emma insisted, because that was what friends were supposed to do, right? Try to comfort each other. Although she was not sure that this was the most appropriate way to bring up the subject. She needed practice in the friendship thing, a concept still so new to her.

"Aye, we did." Killian hurried to answer, his lips twisted in an attempt at a smile as he reached behind his ear to scratch. "It was a long time ago, I was just a child, that’s why they didn’t tell me, but everything is fine now."

There was more than that. Emma could tell by the way he turned his gaze away slightly as if he felt uncomfortable in some way. But she would not push, it was not her business, after all. "I’m glad to hear that." She said simply.

She did not want to leave, but she did not have any excuse to stay either. For that reason, she started walking towards the exit door. "I better go. See you on Tuesday?"

"Wait, I'm leaving, too." Killian grabbed the backpack and started walking in her direction. "In fact, I'm hungry. Do you mind accompanying me to Granny's to get a bite?" Killian dropped the invitation in a nonchalant tone, as if it had just occurred to him, but the glint in his eyes and that damn smile of his indicated something different. So, even at the risk of continuing to fall into his clutches, she accepted. "Yeah, I'm starving."

It was the moment they arrived at the diner and Ruby received them with a smirk while she arched her eyebrows meaningfully when Emma realized that this encounter was the closest thing to a date she had had in years. This time, the photography lessons had not acted as an excuse, nor was there a need to vent. Emma ignored both Ruby and those thoughts and instead dragged Killian to one of the more distant booths.

Emma had been honest with Killian when she assured him she wanted them to know each other. But the walls around her heart had been up for so long that it was difficult for her to find a crack that would allow her to open up. And this improvised meal would allow just that, a small step on the way to open, a means to share more moments with Killian. So, she left all her worries behind and focused on Killian. It was not a complicated task, honestly, especially when both shared the same passion for photography. Inevitably, the conversation ended up leading to that topic, although she did not mind in the least, especially when that meant listening completely enthralled as Killian told her some of his experiences as a war reporter. She was aware that Killian's experiences were far from the fantasy of a movie, that he had witnessed traumatic events and had had to immortalize the terror of other people. Perhaps thanks to his expressiveness or the cadence he endowed his voice with, or perhaps thanks to the content of his experiences - a mix of adventure, risk, and action, his explanations allowed her mind to travel with him to get an idea of what it would be like to live on the edge and feel the adrenaline running continuously through her veins. It was a way to add some emotion to her monotonous life, even if it was through someone else's experience.

He was in the middle of one of his stories when something seemed to catch his attention, causing him to fall into silence suddenly while his body tensed and his gaze traveled to the entrance. She turned in the same direction, looking for what could have produced that sudden change in him. What she found left her somewhat confused. Killian's friends, the Nolans, had just entered the premises and after waving their hands in greeting, they went straight to their booth, their faces adorned with warm smiles.

"Hey, guys, what a surprise to see you here!" Mary Margaret said in an enthusiastic tone, as soon as they got to where they were sat, while her smile grew wider. "Hi!" Emma responded by offering a tentative smile, not quite sure how to act, since, although she knew the couple by sight, they had never been introduced before. There was a small, awkward moment while they remained standing there, their smiles not disappearing from their faces as they glanced at Killian, who seemed lost for a second until finally, he reacted. After clearing his throat and scratching behind his ear, he made the appropriate introductions. It was evident that the tension had not disappeared from his body, but Emma did not have time to evaluate his strange behavior since, without hardly noticing, she was surrounded by Mary Margaret’s arms in an unexpected embrace. Emma was slow to react, stiffening at first, surprised by so much effusiveness for a stranger, not yet accustomed to so much physical contact. "It's a pleasure to be able to meet you properly at last, Emma." Mary Margaret did not seem to notice her stiffness, because the hug persisted a couple of seconds more as Emma patted her back tentatively. Luckily, she did not have to repeat the same action with her husband. David simply offered her his hand while giving her a gentle smile. "It's a pleasure for me too, Emma." Killian interrupted them then, "We’re in the middle of lunch. Would you like to join us?" His voice trailed off, while he directed his gaze to her, "Do you mind if...? "Sure, it's not a problem at all." Emma assured as she moved to make room for Mary Margaret. David chose to sit next to his friend.

All of them remained silent for a few seconds, only broken by Ruby, who came over to take note of their orders. Before leaving in the direction of the kitchen, Ruby gave her another meaningful look, which she deliberately ignored. She would have time for explanations later.

"How was the class today?" Mary Margaret was the first to break the ice, her gaze traveling from Emma to Killian. After listening more carefully, Emma realized something curious. Despite being American, there was a slight hint of a British accent in Mary Margaret’s voice, acquired after so many years living in London. "Killian has told us a lot about you and your talent." David added, not giving her time to answer his wife's question. A soft blush crawled up her cheeks, while Emma tossed uncomfortably in her seat. "Killian has also told me about you both. It’s good to be able to meet you at last." She was not accustomed to receiving compliments and even less to others talking among themselves to praise her. It was such a new feeling that she did not really know how to react. "And as for my supposed talent, it's not a big deal, I just push the button and sometimes I'm lucky to capture a good image." She shrugged as she glanced at Killian.

To her surprise, Killian rolled his eyes, the corners of his lips rising slightly. "Since it seems you don’t believe in an expert's word, let's see what another expert in the field has to say." Killian teased as he grabbed her camera. “May I?” She nodded as she held her breath. Of course, David would also be an expert in photography, how could she have forgotten? He was the director of the local newspaper, for God's sake. Her stomach tightened in knots of anticipation, feeling nervous about what David might think.

"We’ve practiced the white balance today.” Killian explained to his friend as he showed him the photos she had taken a while before. David frowned professionally as he studied the photos intently, causing her nerves to increase. "They could spend hours observing or taking photographs." Mary Margaret muttered to her side as she offered her a knowing smile. "But I don’t need to see your photographs to be certain of your talent. Killian has that special ability to discover hidden potentials, so if he's sure, so am I." There was something about Mary Margaret - maybe her soft voice, or her kind expression. Whatever it was, Emma felt enveloped in a sense of reliability and security. Emma smiled back in gratitude, feeling comfortable enough to trust them. "According to Killian, now I just have to learn to use that talent." "And he's right." David confirmed, still holding a professional expression, though his eyes showed a glimpse of something deeper than Emma could not identify. "There are good pictures there and that was just a practice. If you really like photography, you should continue practicing and learning. And listen to the professionals." Despite the content, his last words did not sound like a reprimand, but rather as a joke - at least she interpreted it as so by his casual tone and the wide smile that he directed at her, leaving behind his professional attitude. Still, that did not stop her cheeks from blushing again. Fortunately, Ruby arrived at that moment bringing the dishes ordered by the Nolans. When Ruby left, everyone seemed to forget about her and her damned talent, focusing instead on food. The food acted as a catalyst though, and after a brief pause, a new conversation about Storybrooke and the few places that offered food began. With the passing of the minutes, Emma felt more and more comfortable with the Nolans, and even Killian seemed more relaxed surrounded by his friends. She did not miss the effort they put into making her feel included in the conversation. The affection and familiarity they felt for Killian and he for them was evident, but the trust between them, far from making her feel excluded, caused her curiosity about these two most important people for Killian to increase. It was as if, knowing as much as possible about the Nolans brought her even closer to Killian. Maybe that's why she made an effort to improve her social skills by being open and participative.

"So, after so many years living far away, what made you return to Storybrooke?" Suddenly, Killian started coughing repeatedly. Emma narrowed her eyes in confusion, noting how his cheeks had turned a reddish color, his eyes watering. David was gently tapping his back while Mary Margaret watched him with a worried expression.

"Are you okay?" Emma asked, unable to hide the concern in her voice, as she reached for his hand instinctively. "Aye, love." Killian managed to respond in a hoarse voice between coughs, while trying to catch his breath. "I just choked because of the bloody beer." After a few seconds, Killian seemed to recover enough though the tension had returned to his shoulders, making the suspicions that something was wrong to increase. "Are you sure you're okay?" She asked again, her eyes never leaving his face. "Aye, lass, just a little tired, that's all." He assured through a weak smile that once again did not reach his eyes. "You should rest, which means that the time has come to leave." Mary Margaret gestured to David for him to get up, then she turned to Emma. "It has been a real pleasure to chat with you, Emma. I hope we can repeat it soon." Her soft expression and voice seemed to indicate a genuine interest in knowing her, which had the ability to warm her heart. David also offered a gentle smile before addressing his friend. "Go home and rest, I'll call you later." Only when they disappeared through the door did Emma realize that they had not answered her question. Something told her, however, that she would have a new opportunity soon. Suddenly, the possibility of adding two more friends to her, rather short list, did not seem bad at all.

Storybrooke woke up the following Saturday covered by a thick white blanket. Emma chose her favorite place in her apartment, a small bench under the window that opened in the kitchen, to contemplate the first major snowfall of the season, while holding a cup of steaming coffee in her hands, wrapped in her favorite blanket. It was kind of perfect. She could sit for hours watching the inexorable fall of the snowflakes. It was almost magical, and also calming, to see how the landscape transformed into a huge white canvas. Suddenly, the need to immortalize that magical landscape took hold of her, so Emma placed the cup on the kitchen countertop and grabbed the camera. After making the adjustments that she believed were necessary, she began to shoot. The calm did not last long, though. The moment she realized the time, she jumped as she hurried to her bedroom. She had been so absorbed in the snow that she had lost track of time. If she didn’t hurry, she would be late for the photography class. The little peace that still remained completely disappeared at the moment when she went out and discovered that her bug was covered by a thick layer of snow. She huffed in annoyance while raising her eyes to the sky. But she was not willing to let anything, not even the inclemency of the weather, make her mood worse, so, after she armed herself with a little patience and resigned to being late, she began to work to unearth her vehicle.

Twenty minutes later, Emma hurried into the classroom, trying to catch her breath, while noticing how a flush spread through her body from the exercise. "I'm sorry... the snow." She muttered an excuse, not bothering to look at Killian, walking to her seat as she began to remove her beanie and other outerwear.

"It isn't necessary for you to take off your coat, lass. In fact, you don't even need to sit down. We're leaving right now."

Emma stopped short, turning around to, this time, look at Killian, unable to hide the confusion on her face. "What?"

"Given that it's indispensable for a photographer to use the resources available or to be able to work in unfavorable circumstances, I thought we could practice taking pictures of the snow." Killian explained in that particular tone of his, with the ability to enrapture anyone who was listening to him. "In addition, we're lucky that I have found a spot in the nearby park which hasn't yet been altered. The white blanket remains intact, or at least it was ten minutes ago, so we better get going, before it's too late and someone ruins our work material."

All the others hummed in agreement, as they picked up their belongings, got up and started heading towards the exit. Emma, however, remained standing awkwardly, still recovering from the race to get to class on time.

"And remember guys, we must take special care with our devices in adverse weather conditions. We don't want our cameras to suffer any damage, do we?" Killian warned his students, earning some nods in response before everyone left the classroom, only she and him remained.

"Sorry, my car was buried by the snow." Emma made a new attempt at apology the moment they were left alone, while Killian approached her, causing the butterflies in her stomach to begin fluttering.

"It's okay, Swan, I figured it." His lips twisted upwards, drawing a frank smile, to her relief. All the weirdness of the previous Saturday seemed to have vanished from his features. Everything had gone well also in Tuesday's practice, his strange previous behavior seemed therefore to be an isolated event.

"There's another thing." He added as if he had just remembered it. "I have decided to invite the students, and you too, of course, to have a drink at Granny's this evening as compensation for my absence a few weeks ago, and also in celebration, since this is the last class of the year."

Emma realized at that moment, that the Christmas break meant they would not see each other and therefore, wouldn't continue with practices for three weeks. Her heart tightened a bit at that prospect, which did nothing to improve her dislike for this particular holiday. "You mean like a pre-Christmas party or something?" She asked, unable to prevent a hint of slight disappointment from slipping into her voice.

Clearly, he had noticed her discomfort since he did not respond immediately. Instead, he cocked his head and stared at her, as if he were studying her. "Look at it this way, it will be like an extra class since we will practice social photos." Killian offered through a half smile, his eyes never leaving her own.

He was so close that she could almost touch him. In other circumstances, or with another person, she would have been immediately intimidated by the invasion of her personal space. With Killian however, she had to repress the impulse to pull him closer to her. She was no longer sure if that need to feel him that close came from the momentary intimacy they were in, from the possibility that they were to be separated for three weeks, or simply from her undeniable attraction to him. But she had learned that lesson and had decided not to act impulsively again. Now it was up to him when he would decide to make the next move.

Fortunately, Killian had brought up their lifeline, photography, so she clung to that. She rolled her eyes in an attempt to hide how she was affected by his mere proximity. "You always have photography in mind, don't you?" She continued before he could reply. "And no, don't come with the excuse of sleep, because I'm sure you also dream of cameras and photos."

The way he chuckled caused tiny wrinkles to appear in the corners of his eyes, while his dimples deepened in a way too adorable for his own good or hers, given the matter.

"Well, lass," his tongue darted out to lick his lips once the laughter subsided. "I can assure you my dreams are plagued in most occasions by other activities even more pleasurable." His silky voice, almost purring, caused a liquid heat to travel to her very core while her mind decided to act on her own, imagining the content of those possible wild dreams.

The bastard knew the effect he was having on her. His lips drew a wide smirk while he reached out his hand, his fingers barely brushing her cheek. She held her breath, her skin tingling in anticipation, her gaze lost in the blue depth of his eyes. "Have I ever told you that I find particularly endearing the way your cheeks blush?"

His touch was as light as a feather, only a faint pressure of his fingertips touching her skin, but that was enough for a chill to run through her body, while her heart threatened to come out of her chest. A furious flush crawled down her neck to her cheeks, as Killian's touch became more intense, causing her instinctively to tilt her head so that it rested on his hand.

The sound of approaching footsteps broke the moment, causing both to jump while Killian withdrew his hand from her face as if it was burning.

"Oh, sorry, guys." It was Elsa the one to blame for the interruption. The poor girl seemed a little embarrassed when she entered the classroom, not daring to look at them. "I... I haven't seen anything, I just forgot my beanie." She muttered as she grabbed the garment and made her way back to the exit. Before leaving though, Elsa looked at her and gave her a soft smile of, she supposed, approval.

The small interruption allowed her to regain some composure. "At least it's not the worst she's seen of us." Now it was her turn to be smirking at him. Two could play the same game. She stuffed her hands in the back pockets of her jeans as she closed the distance between them.

She noticed his Adam's apple bobbing, while his brows knitted together in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Her ice cream parlor is right in front of Granny's and she may have witnessed our little dalliance." She shrugged as she chewed on her bottom lip in a mischievous way. His gaze immediately strayed from her eyes to her lips while his pupils dilated. "And now, maybe it would be better if we leave, in case someone else comes looking for the professor." She wrapped the last word around her tongue making it sound almost indecent.

After offering him one last tempting smile, she turned around in the direction of the door. While walking, she heard a soft groan followed by a broken "bloody hell" making her grin to widen. She was playing a dangerous game, she was aware of it, but for the first time in a long time, she wasn't afraid of the flames of the game burning her, or rather, she didn't mind being consumed by the fire that she was sure Killian Jones kept inside

The walk to the park took only a few minutes. When they reached the spot chosen by Killian, Emma couldn't prevent a soft gasp from sliding between her lips, pleasantly surprised to observe the landscape they had before them. A long, white blanket covered the entire surface of the park while the branches of nearby trees also appeared laden with snow. Despite the cold, there was a kind of calm around them, as if time had frozen in the course of the snowfall, drawing a picture that seemed taken from a fairy tale.

She turned her head around to check the reaction of the rest of the students. They seemed equally dazed by the sight of it, all of them gazing silently with wide eyes and slightly open mouths.

It was funny, because Emma was sure that, in other circumstances, this landscape would have gone totally unnoticed by most of them, all too engaged in their daily routine to pay much attention to what was happening around them. But now that they had begun to observe the world through a lens and through Killian's eyes, an infinite number of possibilities opened up before them, allowing them to find beauty in something as dull as a town park.

"Well, guys, I see that the landscape has really left you a little impressed, that's good." Killian addressed them in that professional yet close tone that had Emma completely mesmerized. "Inspiration is the first step to getting good photographs, but remember, we're dealing with snow. The beauty of a snowy landscape is undeniable, but it can also be an added difficulty for us, the photographers."

"Because of the light." Aurora offered tentatively.

"Very good, lass." Killian gave her his most charming smile, causing the girl's cheeks to blush slightly. It was evident that most of the students had fallen under the spell of Killian since, where before there was hardly any interest, now there was a real desire to learn. "Indeed, snow is a great reflector of light, so if we want to achieve the desired effect, we must, amongst other factors, apply the correct exposure compensation."

Killian continued explaining, walking among them to make sure everyone was able to get the correct parameters before starting to take pictures.

Leroy, though, seemed to be losing patience since, a few minutes later, he snapped, "Come on - we're talking about white snow... it can't really be that hard to get a decent picture."

Killian stopped, turning to him as he tilted his head slightly and crossed his arms over his chest. His face seemed unperturbed, but she could feel his tension in the way the muscle in his jaw twitched slightly. "Go ahead - show us." He replied with an even voice while holding his hand out as if to emphasize his words.

Leroy seemed intimidated, both by the challenge that had fallen on him and by the scrutiny he was being subjected to by the others. Emma could not deny that she was enjoying the scene, since Leroy would show himself up the moment he took a photo in automatic mode.

He grabbed his camera and, after casting a defiant look at Killian, shifted his eyes to the viewer without bothering to touch the controls. He took a couple of shots and then observed the results on the screen.

"Well?" Killian asked, a slight hint of annoyance in his voice.

Leroy kept his eyes on the screen for a few more seconds until, finally, he rolled his eyes and let out a sigh of defeat. "The snow is gray." He admitted reluctantly.

"See? This is a clear example that we should never rely on automatic mode, not when we have so many resources at our disposal. Why should not we use them?" To his credit, Killian not only did not kick the guy when he was down, but he channeled what happened to continue teaching them. Her admiration for him grew at times.

The moment Killian gave the go-ahead, they started taking pictures. Although it might be contradictory, the action of pressing the button and immortalizing the moment was always relaxing for her. It was as if she lost track of time when her eyesight remained fixed on her camera's viewfinder. Today was not going to be an exception either since, almost without her noticing, Killian began to evaluate their results.

Emma watched as he dedicated the same time to all his students, offering smiles of encouragement as he praised them well for their effort, or for the good result obtained. She also observed how Tink, the only other single girl in the group along with Elsa and herself, lingered during her interactions with Killian, while maintaining an attitude that was perhaps too close, a wide smile and a fluttering of lashes included.

A strange sensation, which she did not dare to name, settled in the pit of her stomach while she did not miss any of their movements. That pull faded though when his eyes fell on Emma, his lips drawing that special smile, just for her.

"Excellent job, lass, as usual." He commented after contemplating her photographs. He held her gaze for a few more seconds, causing the flutter in her stomach to become more intense until finally, he cleared his throat and addressed the others. "And now, guys, I know you're looking forward to it. You can go play in the snow." Indeed, it seemed that all of them had been waiting for the words because, at that moment, they started running as if they were little children who had discovered the snow for the first time.

"And don't forget to protect your cameras!" He shouted at them in warning before they got too far away.

A laugh bubbled in the back of Emma’s throat at the surreal scene, the landscape no longer intact, but full of life now. She was about to make a comment about it to Killian when both Elsa and Anna hooked each of one of her arms. Before being dragged, literally, by the two sisters, Emma offered Killian one last look and an apologetic smile, to which he replied with a smile on his own and a nod of his head.

Emma let herself be carried away by the enthusiasm of the others, participating in group photos, making selfies and even she decided to also collaborate in the construction of a snowman whom Elsa, who loved the snow, decided to name Olaf. Even Leroy had left behind his permanent state of grumpiness and Archie, usually serious and the voice of reason, let himself loose a little by joining the others in their games.

She enjoyed more than she imagined, sharing laughs, jokes and knowing glances. She felt lighter, as if she had let part of her baggage escape, while the sense of belonging that had appeared the moment she arrived at Storybrooke became more intense.

Emma was so entertained that didn't realize at first that Killian hadn't joined their improvised snow party. It was Elsa who pointed at him, "What is he doing?" she asked, gesturing towards somewhere behind Emma's back. She turned to follow the direction of her gaze and found Killian, camera in hand, leaning slightly forward while he seemed to try to focus something.

Her eyes narrowed in confusion first and then widened in surprise when Emma realized what he was trying to do. The lens he was using, a macro if she was correct, was the one that gave her the clue.

"He's trying to make a photo of a snowflake." Emma commented almost in awe, unable to hide the pride she felt. She did not need to see the picture to know that it would be perfect.

"Wow, really?" It seemed that she was not the only one affected by Killian's talent, if the hint of admiration in Elsa's voice was indicative.

The fact that he was using his left arm and his prosthesis as if it were something natural in him warmed her heart. His initial reluctance to use the prosthesis seemed completely forgotten. She was not an expert on the subject but Emma sensed that one of the first steps to recovery after a traumatic event was adaptation and acceptance, and Killian seemed to be on the right track.

Almost without realizing it, she was holding the camera and pointing it towards him, immortalizing the way he was working. That was when Killian noticed her, looking away from the viewfinder, searching her eyes.

"Will you show me the result?" Emma asked as she approached him.

"Uh... I think it's better if we wait to see it on a larger screen, and I should also edit the image..."

Emma rolled her eyes at Killian's sudden reluctance. "Let me see if I've understood correctly. You're telling me you just made a picture of a snowflake and you're not going to let me see it. Seriously?" She rushed towards him in an attempt to grab the camera, but he was faster. Before she reached him, he raised the arm that held the device, leaving it out of her reach.

"Oh, come on!" She scoffed while pursing her lips. "I need practical examples if I want to learn how to make these kinds of photos." She did not give up, moving even closer to him, only inches away.

"Uh, maybe this was all I wanted." He leaned and whispered into her ear, his breath caressing her skin and causing a chill to run down her body. "It's freezing here, Swan. I needed a source of heat."

"You don't need to use a poor excuse for that, you know." She suggested, shooting him a provocative look from under her lashes. Indeed, it was as if the temperature had risen several degrees in the last seconds. "Could you show me the picture, please?" Her voice slipped between her lips in a soft murmur, causing the blue color to almost disappear from his eyes as his tongue peeked out of the corner of his mouth in an almost indecent way.

For a moment, Emma forgot where they were, but the background noise of the other students brought them back to reality. Killian cleared his throat and, without separating from her, lowered his hand. "If you ask me that way..." He grinned at her before handing her the camera. Any chance of retort died on her lips the moment her eyes fell on the picture, leaving her speechless. Emma was amazed to see the small details and the defined geometric shape that had been captured in the image. It was like contemplating a tiny gem that nature offered them. "I want to learn how to take pictures like that." She muttered under her breath, unable to look away from the screen.

"The lens does practically all the work, actually. You wanna try?" Killian offered in a soft voice.

Of course she wanted to try. But before she had time to look through the viewfinder to locate a snowflake, Killian suddenly wrapped his arms around her and turned her, standing just behind her. "What the hell?" The moment she heard the impact of a snowball against Killian's coat, she realized what was happening.

Killian turned around again, keeping her behind him. "What did I say, guys? Be careful with the cameras!" He yelled, clearly annoyed.

"Sorry, Mr. Jones, it was not my intention." Emma recognized Robin's voice in that sincere apology.

"Your aim is just awful, mate!"

"Oh, shut up, Will!" Emma stuck her head out from behind Killian to see what was happening, it seemed like they all were involved in a snowball fight. Her heart skipped a beat since that was one of the activities she longed for the most as a child when winter came. Unfortunately, there were not many children willing to play with her in those years, so she always had ended up frustrated. But that was not going to happen today, Emma thought with determination.

She left the shelter offered by Killian, standing in front of him and helping to put their respective cameras in the protective bags, placing them on a nearby bench, far enough from where the rest were playing. "Thank you for your act of gentlemanliness. Now, it’s time for a revenge. You wanna join me?"

"Actually I was protecting my camera." He admitted while scratching behind his ear. "But I am always a gentleman." He hastened to add, his lips drawing a smirk. "Even so, I would prefer not to be included in the snowball fight. I'm at a bit of a disadvantage here." The light tone in his voice and the half smirk on his face seemed to indicate that he was joking, but Emma also detected a certain truth in his eyes.

"Please, that's the worst excuse I've ever heard." Emma rolled her eyes, while bending down quickly and grabbing a handful of snow, squeezing it lightly with one hand to give it consistency. Then, without giving him time to react, she threw the snowball hitting him in the chest. "See?" She knew that she had acted correctly when he gave her a wild look while muttering, "You just started a dangerous game, Swan." This time it was she who received the impact on one shoulder. The war had begun.

And what a war! During the following minutes, they became fully involved in the game, sometimes as allies and other times as opponents, throwing snowballs, or receiving hits, running to protect themselves or to reach their target faster. Such was the intensity that they were depositing in the game that the poor Olaf, who stood in the middle of the battlefield suffered the consequences, being knocked down when Robin fell on it in an attempt to protect himself from an impact.

She did not remember having so much fun in her life, to the point that her stomach ached from laughing so much.

Killian also seemed to have the time of his life, if the perpetual smile on his lips, the brighter than ever sparkle in his eyes, and his cheeks flushed as much by the exercise as by the cold were indicative enough. If he was already very handsome, now he was irresistible. For that reason, she tried to stay away from him, since he did not trust herself.

In the end, everyone ended up exhausted, their clothes soaked and Emma was sure that the next day all her muscles would ache and she would have marks of different impacts all over her body, but it would have been worth it, without a doubt. The adrenaline rush had allowed her to release tensions and the game had made her feel even closer to the rest of the students. In fact, after the sad fate of Olaf, they decided to rebuild it, all of them working as a team while she was the person designated to take pictures of the action.

They were engaged in the task when she heard footsteps approaching. She turned to see who had dared to go for a walk despite the cold and snow. Her eyes widened in surprise when she met the Nolans right in front of her, holding hands.

"Oh, what a surprise! What are you doing here, guys?" Mary Margaret asked politely, her lips drawing a soft smile.

"Hi! Killian thought it was a good idea to go out and take pictures of the snowy landscape. Let's say we got carried away a bit by the circumstances." She commented, her smile matching hers, as she turned her head, looking for Killian.

Her smile faltered a little when she realized that Killian's previously relaxed features had now subtly darkened and his shoulders seemed tense. Emma frowned, surprised at the change in his attitude, but calmed down at once when the corners of his lips lifted up drawing a smile while he waved at them.

Maybe it was just a figment of her imagination since she was over-analyzing all his reactions, fearing the possibility that the shoe would drop at some point. Emma shook her head slightly, burying those thoughts in some hidden corner of her brain and instead focused on Mary Margaret and David.

"I can see that. You're doing an excellent job with that snowman." David chuckled softly and, after giving her a warm smile, went to greet Killian and help them in the construction.

"So, have you gone for a walk?" Emma asked Mary Margaret, genuinely interested.

"Yeah, in fact, despite the cold, the mornings after an intense snowfall are the days when I prefer to go for a walk. It's as if everything is calm, as if time had suddenly frozen. It's overwhelming and beautiful at the same time, something I missed back in London where life moves much faster than here." The longing was evident in Mary Margaret's voice and Emma could also detect a spark of sadness in her eyes. But what surprised her most, to the point of a warm sensation spreading through her body, was the fact that the two of them had the same thought about the snowy landscapes. She felt an instant connection to that woman she barely knew.

"I was thinking the same thing when Killian brought us to this place. It's like magic, really." Emma confirmed offering a smile of understanding.

They kept a light chat for a bit while Mary Margaret watched the others work and Emma took pictures. At some point, almost without realizing it, Emma looked away from the viewfinder and instead focused on Killian and all his movements. He, on the other hand, looked at her from time to time, offering her his most captivating smile every time their eyes met, causing the butterflies in her stomach to flutter hard.

Out of the corner of her eye, Emma noticed how Mary Margaret's sight traveled from her to Killian, while she kept a thoughtful expression until her eyes widened suddenly, as if she had just realized something.

"Oh my god! You like Killian! And he likes you!" Mary Margaret almost screamed with excitement, causing Emma's heart to nearly stop at that very moment.

"What?" It was the only thing she managed to say before her throat went dry and a furious blush crept from her neck to her cheeks.

"Sorry, I didn't..." Mary Margaret's voice trailed off, while she seemed clearly embarrassed. "I mean... I had never seen Killian so happy, and you have that expression on your face as if..." Mary Margaret paused again, as if trying to find the right word. Emma held her breath, not entirely sure she wanted to continue listening to her. "... as if there were no one else around."

Emma looked away immediately as her cheeks burned even more and she wanted a hole to open beneath her feet and carry her away. She felt like a teenager who had been caught with her first crush. She was really that obvious? She schooled her features so as not to betray any more of her feelings.

But there was something else in Mary Margaret's words, something that on one hand warmed her heart, but on the other, caused a pull of fear to settle in her stomach. The fact that Killian's happiness could depend on her was a great responsibility, something she was not sure she could carry properly.

"We're just getting to know each other." She muttered, not daring to look at Mary Margaret.

"That's good."

They remained silent for a few seconds while she raised the camera again, using it as an excuse to keep busy.

"So, the meetings on Tuesdays are not merely academic, are they? Are they also a way to get to know each other better?" Mary Margaret asked tentatively, not willing to leave the topic of conversation just yet. Sensing her discomfort, she added. "I'm sorry, really. It's not my intention to make you feel uncomfortable, it's just that... this is what we've always wanted for him, that he can finally move on, and it seems that this time he's on his way to achieving it."

"It's okay..." Emma shrugged, as a wave of gratitude washed over her, at the way she seemed to care about Killian. Emma wondered how he had any inkling of doubt about their affection for him. "It seems that we have a lot in common and we understand each other."

When Emma looked at Mary Margaret, she found an unexpected emotion in her features and a special glow in her eyes which she could not identify, but it was as if she was looking at her with tenderness and understanding, making her feel a little overwhelmed, but at the same time also safe, offering a feeling that she could trust these people.

Emma offered her a half smile and then turned her gaze back to Killian. When their eyes met, her heart skipped a beat. She did not care if it was destiny or just coincidence, but she could not be more grateful to have crossed paths with Killian and for once, she allowed herself to dream and trust that maybe this time her heart was not going to be affected, at least not in the wrong way.

Theladyswan Sometimes, a simple snowfall can offer you much more than a white blanket covering everything. Sometimes it means flushed cheeks, bright eyes and traveling to the past, becoming a child again. Sometimes it means a snow fight or working as a team to create our new friend, Olaf. Sometimes a simple snowflake may contain more beauty than the most precious jewel. Thank you for helping me discover all this and appreciate the small details.

"I kissed him. Twice." Emma snapped, not taking the time to assess the consequences of her confession. She had arrived at Granny's early, intending to talk to Ruby. After the brief talk with Mary Margaret, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about Killian and a possible relationship with him, but all this was so new to her that she found herself in need of venting with someone and the most appropriate option was her friend.

"You did what?" Ruby asked, wide eyes.

"Who did you kiss?" Another voice asked almost in unison - Graham, arriving at the most inopportune moment.

Emma bit back a groan and suppressed the urge to bury her head in her arms. This wasn't how she had thought the conversation would unfold. Graham took the stool next to her, implying that he wasn't planning to leave anytime soon. They both stared at her, one with an amused expression and the other with a slight frown.

Since she couldn't swallow back her words, she had no choice but to give an explanation, so, after letting out a long sigh of resignation, she continued speaking.

"I kissed Killian."

"That's my girl!" Ruby's face split into a giant grin as she lifted her hand for a high five. "I want all the details."

"Wait, wait, wait ... You mean the instructor?" Graham's eyebrows knitted together as he gave her an inquisitive look.

In response, Emma shrugged and wrinkled her nose. "Oh" It was all Graham said at first. Then he brought his hands to his heart, while his features twisted in an overdramatic gesture. "You wound me, Emma. What does that guy have that I don’t?" Although it was evident that he was feigning his annoyance, Emma could detect a hint of disappointment in his voice. Fortunately, she did not have to answer since Ruby came immediately to her rescue. "Oh, come on, as if you didn't have eyes for another blonde who sells ice cream." Ruby smirked at him as she arched one of her eyebrows, causing Graham's cheeks to turn pink while his eyes cast down to the floor. This was new... "You mean Elsa? Is that why you switched coffee for frozen yogurt?" Ruby chuckled as she lifted her hand for a new high five. Emma, instead, pressed her lips together, suppressing the laughter that threatened to escape. Graham looked truly mortified, as if he wanted to vanish right then, or flee away.

A pull of affection for him washed over her. It was quite adorable to see how the responsible and impassive sheriff lost his composure revealing how much that crush affected him.

"I believe we were talking about you, not me." He grunted as he pursed his lips, adding even more cuteness to the scene.

"He's right." Ruby agreed, of course. "So, two kisses and nothing else? What from now on?"

Emma shrugged, taking a deep breath. "I don't know... It's complicated." She admitted reluctantly.

"Complicated... You like him, he likes you. I don't see any complications there." The way Ruby put it made it really simple, but something else caught her attention.

"So, do you think he likes me?" She bit her lower lip, hating the vulnerability reflected in her voice.

"Oh, come on, Emma, everyone can see it." Ruby rolled her eyes and then looked at Graham for confirmation. He nodded, his lips drawing a small smile. "You just have to see the way he looks at you, honey." Ruby's features softened, as she reached out and squeezed her arm gently. "Listen, we know that you're a reserved person, and even though you don't talk much about your past, it's obvious that you’ve got a broken heart, but also, you've told us more than once that getting to Storybrooke changed your life. Now is the time to give your heart a chance to heal, don't you think?"

A warm feeling traveled directly to her heart, while she was extremely grateful for Ruby's words. She couldn't help to wonder how she had been so lucky to finally find two true friends who cared so much about her. She blinked a couple of times holding back the tears that threatened to spill.

"Speaking of the devil..." Graham whispered, his head pointing subtly towards the door. "Go get your chance, Emma." He winked at her, his lips curled into a smile of encouragement.

Emma turned her head to look for Killian. His face lit up at the moment their eyes met, his bright smile acting like a dart straight at her heart. She was so fucked up...

Before going to meet him, Emma sent a smile of gratitude to her friends, approaching Graham and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, guys, you're the best. By the way, maybe a blonde who sells ice cream will appear around here soon." The last thing she saw before getting up and going to meet Killian was how Graham's cheeks blushed again, while Ruby smirked at both of them, clearly enjoying the scene.

Emma couldn't deny that Killian had had a great idea in bringing everyone together to celebrate a pre-Christmas party. She decided to ignore the mixed feelings that these festivities entailed for her and instead, let herself get carried away, enjoying the company of Killian and her friends. Even Henry was there, flitting from one group to another, his smile never disappearing from his face.

The affection she had for the boy was undeniable. Her heart tightened in her chest every time she remembered that he had been the initial reason why she had decided to stay in town. She was watching as Henry showed one of his favorite storybooks to Ariel and Tink when an unexpected whispered voice into her ear made her flinch.

"I have some terrible doubts..." She hadn't even seen Anna come when she was suddenly right by her side, an expectant gaze and a wide grin on her face.

Emma didn't even have time to reply. At the moment when Anna was certain that she had gotten her attention, she launched herself with one of her interminable speeches, so Emma let out a subtle sigh as she armed herself with patience.

"I can't decide which couple is the most adorable, apart from me and Kristoff, of course... first, my sister and Graham, with those shy expressions, and those dreamy looks, and then you and the professor, all passion and unresolved sexual tension."

Emma almost choked on her drink when she heard Anna, feeling the blush creeping up her cheeks again. "We're not a couple." She mumbled weakly, cursing inwardly for letting herself get involved in these kinds of conversation.

"Neither are Graham and Elsa, not yet. But it's only a matter of time. Believe me, since I'm quite the expert here." Anna assured as she gave her a conspiratorial look.

Anna was right in something, though. Elsa and Graham made a super cute couple and it was evident that the feeling was not one-sided. And Anna and Kristoff seemed deeply in love, so she wasn't able to decide if it was a good or bad thing that Anna had compared them to those two powerful couples.

Fortunately, Anna soon found another target, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She looked for Killian, who had spent half the time at her side and the other half taking pictures of everything and everyone.

He was in his element, no doubt, involving different people and convincing them with his charm to pose for him. From time to time, he looked for her and even on occasion he took a picture of her from a distance.

"I still can't believe it." Emma winced again, hearing another voice, this time from David, right next to her. She realized that he was looking at Killian, an expression of disbelief on his face.

"What do you mean?"

"Just a few months ago, that scene - Killian taking photos so naturally, would have been inconceivable, and yet look at him now, as if nothing had happened." David commented, his voice revealing a mixture of relief and pride towards his friend.

"He has also used the darkroom that you prepared for him." For some reason, Emma found it important to let David know. It had been his idea, after all.

David then stared at Emma tilting his head slightly, as if he were studying her. He seemed to hesitate for a moment but then nodded subtly, as if he had convinced himself. "I'd like to express my gratitude towards you, Emma, since all this progress has been thanks to you."

What was happening today? Had everyone agreed to make her feel overwhelmed by emotions? Emma swallowed the lump formed in her throat as she shook her head. "I may have contributed at the beginning, but it was all Killian's work, actually. He was the one who saw the potential in me and decided to exploit it. But I can't be happier to have helped him, even indirectly, to regain the self-confidence he so badly needed."

David directed her that questioning look again, but to her surprise, she didn't feel intimidated, but curious to know what was going through his head. "I guess from your expression and attitude that you already know at least part of his past." Emma nodded as her lips drew a half smile. "He has been through a lot." David continued, without taking his gaze from her. "And, I hope you don't get offended, but your eyes tell me that your life hasn't been easy either, so I'm so glad that you found each other."

So do I... she thought, not daring to say it out loud. After offering him one last smile of gratitude, Emma turned her gaze back to Killian. She couldn't deny it anymore, he had crawled under her skin in such a way that he had made all her walls wobble. But this time, she wasn't afraid of her walls falling apart. Quite the contrary, she couldn't wait for the last brick to fall. Although something told her that they'd still have to work on the shield that protected Killian's heart, she could wait. She wasn't going anywhere.

Thanks for reading. Let me know what did you all think :)

Christmas has come to Storybrooke! After witnessing some resolutions of the new year, we will advance a little in time, until we reach the end of the course. We will also discover how Killian deals with the burden of guilt and regret. Will he be able to handle it?

#cs ff #cs au #csbb #captain swan ff #captain swan #mayquita writes #my cs writings #pictures of reality #cs au ff #csbb 2018

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mayquita · 6 years

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Pictures of Reality (5/16)

Thank you so much to everyone for giving this story a chance. Thanks for your kudos, likes, reblogs and for your comments, they mean the world to me.

Rating: M (Language, mature themes, implied sex)

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, mentions of the loss of a limb in an armed conflict

Artist / art: Go visit @imagnifika’s blog and enjoy her amazing art. I love the art that accompanies this chapter, with that reddish halo... for reasons. Also, this photoset also serves for the next chapter. (I'm including it at the end because it's a bit spoilery)

Art for the prologue/ Art for chapter 1 / Art for chapter 2 and banner / Art for chapter 3 / Art for chapter 4

Special mention to @saraswans , thank you so much for your perpetual support, for believing in me when I doubted myself and for offering ideas to make this story grow.

Word count: ~ 7200 (116k total in 16 chapters)

Also on (From the beginning): Ao3 / Ffnet (Current Chapter) Ao3 / Ffnet

Tumblr: Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

What to expect from this chapter? We will know a bit more about the Nolans and the reason why they returned to Storybrooke. And Emma and Killian continue to get to know each other while sharing pieces of their pasts and… maybe something else. I really enjoyed writing this chapter and I hope you like it.

CHAPTER 4

David Nolan. London, ten months ago

That day had dawned like any other. David had followed his established routines, gone to work at the newspaper, had lunch with Killian — actually lunch was just an excuse to take his friend away from his own miseries for a while at least — and finally, got home to spend the rest of the day with his wife.

What David could never have imagined when he woke up that morning was that his life was going to be shaken, that a radical change that he had not waited for had already begun to take shape. And it all started, once again, with a phone call.

Maybe it was intuition or anticipation. The truth was that when he came through the door that day, a strange sensation seized him, causing his stomach to tighten and urging him to go find Mary Margaret.

His suspicions became more intense when he found his wife in the middle of their living room, holding the phone against her chest with both hands, her gaze absent, her face pale.

He stopped short, while all the air left his lungs and a lump formed in his throat, preventing him from emitting any words. His mind began to imagine horrible scenarios, with Killian in the role of the main character in most cases —Old habits die hard. But it can't be, he told himself in an attempt to suppress those paralyzing thoughts. He is here, safe and sound. No more danger stalking him.

When she realized his presence her eyes sought his. "It was Regina..." Mary Margaret's voice trailed off as her gaze seemed lost again, as if she was still trying to process the information obtained.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his mind having trouble identifying the name in the first place. The memories began to come gradually though, making his features harden as old demons from the past threatened to surface.

"Regina... She's found her, David. It seems that she found her way back." Mary Margaret continued with a tiny voice, almost a whisper, but this time with a different shade, loaded with something similar to hope. He was still processing her words when her eyes sought his again. And that's when he knew it.

A myriad of questions swarmed in his mind, as different sensations danced inside him and his head began to spin to such an extent that he had to lean on a nearby piece of furniture, his legs suddenly too weak to support him. "We have to go back." He managed to mutter as he felt, for the first time in twenty-seven years, the hole in his heart becoming less deep, filled instead with a hope he had never dared to express out loud. "We have to go back." He repeated, this time with more emphasis.

It was then that his wife rushed towards him, burying her head in his chest and emitting a broken sob. As David wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace, a new thought crossed his mind. They could not leave Killian here. Not now, when he was still struggling to recover. They had to find a way to convince him to accompany them. There was no longer anything or anyone to tie him to London. Maybe the time had come for a new beginning, a fresh start, for all of them. Perhaps returning to Storybrooke also meant that they would finally reach that promising future it had been denied to them so many times before.

David Nolan. Storybrooke - November 21, 2017

It was a sunny and bright day, unusual for the end of November and despite the fact that the sun had already started its descent, anticipating his farewell until the next day. Those were the thoughts of David Nolan as he walked through the streets of Storybrooke, a permanent smile pulling at his lips.

It was as if that black cloud that had hovered over them from the moment they knew the sad reality, making their days more somber, had decided to give them a break in the form of a beautiful day that encouraged walking despite the almost wintry cold, the rays of the sun acting like little rays of hope traveling directly to his heart.

Even though he had not expected such a scenario when they both decided to return, he would never regret having made that decision, not when it felt so right to come back home, to the place where they had experienced their best and also their worst moments.

By the time they had crossed the road after passing the welcome sign, a warm feeling had invaded his body, as a reminder that they were coming home.

That feeling not only had not changed four months later, but had intensified. Walking through the same streets where they had grown up, chatting with those who had been their neighbors for years, brought back old memories that he thought were forgotten. While visiting the old places for which time seemed to have not passed, he maintained a state of certain calm, which at least served to compensate for the huge weight of guilt that had fallen upon them the moment they discovered the truth...

The sound of voices brought him back to reality. David turned his head in the direction of the sounds and what he found made him stop in his tracks in the middle of the street, while his heart beat hard against his chest.

She was there, right in front of him, sitting in one of Granny's patio chairs. And there was someone else accompanying her - his friend Killian Jones.

David narrowed his eyes, watching them carefully as he moved discreetly with the goal of remaining half-hidden. He should not be surprised to see them together, he thought, trying to convince himself. Killian had barely given explanations about the development of the course, but David knew that she was attending. Something did not quite fit though, since today was Tuesday and classes were held on Saturdays. Damn Killian and his stubbornness to keep things to himself! When would he realize that they were there to help? That they really cared about him as a member of their family?

Suddenly all his bad thoughts vanished when something caught his attention, causing him to almost have to suppress a gasp of surprise. Killian's features lit up, his lips drawing a genuine smile, directed at her. Something that, unfortunately, David barely remembered witnessing, after so many years of at best, fake smiles or no smile at all.

The angle he was in did not allow him to see her features and he had no intention of moving to avoid revealing his position. Only a glimpse of her profile was in sight as well as her golden hair, something he had learned to recognize from the distance during these four months. Maybe it was just hope or maybe intuition, but he felt a tug in his stomach, trying to convince him that her expression would probably match the one of his friend.

The day became even brighter, the sunlight on its descent causing his friend's eyes to shine in a special way as David's heart began to flutter with the closest thing to hope that he had felt from the moment that they left London. In spite of the guilt, of their perpetual regret and the huge hole in his heart, it seemed that all was not lost after all. Maybe fate had decided that two of the most important people in his life had crossed paths. Maybe they could help heal each other. Maybe he and his wife could still be forgiven when the time to confess came.

After one last look at the scene before him, David turned around in the direction of his apartment. He could not wait to tell Mary Margaret the news. Knowing his wife, he was sure that this information would serve to alleviate the perpetual pain that she had experienced at that moment when they both had discovered the truth.

Killian Jones. Storybrooke - November 21, 2017

"So, did I get my pass in the close-ups and gastronomic photography test, professor?"

The way Emma asked, half-mocking as she uttered the last word, half-flirting disguised in the cadence of her voice, did a strange thing in Killian's heart. He quickly ignored it and focused instead on the way the sun's rays bathed Emma's skin in their descent, giving her a special aura, as if she herself glowed. No, that definitely did not help.

"I reserve my opinion for when I have checked the results on a somewhat larger screen, love." He pointed to the camera on the table that separated them. "But I think I can anticipate that the result will be quite satisfactory." He almost purred the words. Two could play this kind of flirting game. And if the faint pink color that adorned her cheeks was any indication, it seemed that Emma wasn't going to go through this unaffected.

Something had changed since last Tuesday, it was evident. He had not yet been able —or had not dared— to discern what had been the reason for that change between them. Maybe her acceptance of his prosthesis, her desire to learn, the glimpses she had dropped on her past. Maybe it had been the way her hair had moved with the rhythm of the wind, generating a hypnotic dance that had made him unable to look away. Maybe it had been the special glint in her eyes, the fierceness of her features while she had tried, and succeeded in most cases, to put into practice what he had taught her.

Killian felt more and more connected to her, bewitched in some way by her beauty, attracted by her indisputable hidden potential, eager to bring it up, but above all, determined to know those little secrets - the experiences that she had experienced and had molded her into the most interesting and enigmatic person that had crossed him in a long, long time.

Perhaps, for this reason, he did not resign himself to having their meetings happen only once a week, surrounded by other people. Instead, he decided to add a new routine to his schedule, assigning Tuesdays to continue with additional classes for her, provided she was willing, of course. To his relief, she had accepted without a hint of doubt.

The grilled cheese's picture she had sent him a few days ago was the trigger for the idea that began to set in his mind. He just needed an excuse and if he had to resort to photos of food, so be it. It was how they had finished that Tuesday at Granny's, doing close-up practices of the different foods served by an amused waitress, Ruby, who turned out to be not only Emma's friend, but the person who had gifted her the course, something he would be eternally grateful for.

While they shared a hot coffee once the practice ended, Killian realized something he had not thought about until then. There was a concrete reason why he was enjoying these classes so much. That reason was not only because he seemed to have found the talent hidden in the person of Emma Swan. Nor that he was somehow captivated by her beauty or her personality. The real reason he looked forward to these meetings was that, during these hours, he allowed himself to forget, to pretend that his life was simple and quiet, that there were no demons tormenting him, that the darkness had not taken over almost the entirety of his thoughts and his heart. For a few hours a week, he felt lighter, more optimistic, as he absorbed the rays of hope emitted by Emma in the form of a smile, a look or a good photograph.

He was aware that these moments were nothing but a mirage, a small oasis in the middle of the arid desert his soul had been transformed into long ago. He knew that when he returned to the solitude of his apartment, he would feel again the weight of the world on his shoulders. But at least during those moments, he allowed himself to dream about the possibility of a not so dark future.

"I know you Brits don't celebrate it, but do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?" Her question brought him back, driving him away from those troubled thoughts. Instead, his mind traveled to London, his lips drawing a longing smile.

"On the contrary, love, I'm quite familiar with that celebration."

"Oh." Her eyes widened slightly in surprise as her gaze held his, as if she was waiting for an explanation.

A warm feeling ran through his veins to his heart as a myriad of memories crowded his head. Even though it had been almost twenty years, he could still sense the aroma that came from the Nolans' kitchen that first time he and his brother were invited to celebrate that festivity.

That had been the first of many celebrations, the four of them together against the world. Killian had to blink a couple of times, his eyes stinging, suddenly overwhelmed by memories and sensations. Even after, when everything had gone to hell, his friends always managed to count on him on that special occasion, although he had nothing to be grateful for anymore.

Emma must have detected his condition because her features softened, a shadow of something similar to understanding crossed her gaze. She remained expectant, so he felt the need to offer some explanation. Before answering though, he had to swallow the lump formed in his throat. "My friends, the Nolans. They are Americans and let's say they dragged us into this tradition of yours."

"At least one of us has been fortunate in that regard." Her voice came in a murmur so faint that Killian thought for a moment he had imagined the words. His eyes narrowed as he studied her features for some hint, but Emma suddenly seemed very interested in the contents of her mug, her hair covering part of her face.

Her apparent involuntary confession, far from intimidating him, caused his curiosity to increase, as well as an innate protective instinct towards her, despite her appearance of a strong and tough woman. Killian clenched his jaw and ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to stop his urge to curl it into a fist while he wondered, not for the first time, what Emma was hiding behind that mask of determination. Before he could inquire though, she continued talking.

"I've been invited to Granny's." She gestured to the place in front. "Ruby told me that they make a special dinner that day for... for people like me." Her lips curled into a tiny smile that didn't reach her eyes. "It will be fun." She assured, although it seemed that she was trying to convince herself.

For people like me... The realization behind the meaning of her words hit him hard. People away from their family? Or rather without family at all? "I don't doubt it, love. Something tells me that any party that Ruby attends will be quite an event. Also, you can practice social photographs, aye?" Killian suggested, in an attempt to relieve the tension that seemed to have fallen on her shoulders. He knew from experience that it was not convenient to push on these occasions and they barely knew each other yet.

"Do you always keep photography in mind?" She teased with an arched brow, clearly relieved by the change of subject. "Not always, love. Sometimes I sleep." He replied through a grin, earning a giggle on her part. A beautiful sound, he thought, matching her beautiful features once the tension disappeared from her face. A small vestige remained in her eyes though, like a halo of sadness that made them look dangerously like the gaze that the mirror returned every time he looked at his reflection. A lost girl. He was now sure of that. The need to know more about Emma increased. But that would have to wait until the following week because, due to the Thanksgiving holiday, he would not teach classes this Saturday. Suddenly, the idea of spending a whole week without seeing those enigmatic green eyes and hearing her suggestive voice didn't seem appealing at all.

How was the party at Granny's, love? KJ

Ask me tomorrow, when I have recovered from the hangover. ES

No Black Friday, then? KJ

Don't tell me that the Nolans have also taught you that tradition. ES

No, that's the fault of your movies. KJ

How was your dinner, by the way? ES

Conventional, I suppose. Good food and good company. KJ

Turkey? ES

Turkey. KJ

Since we are talking about Thanksgiving I'd like to make a suggestion. KJ

I'm listening, or reading, whatever... ES

There will be no classes tomorrow but I'd like to show you something that I think you will appreciate. KJ

Photography related? ES

Always. KJ

Okay. ES

Good. See you on Saturday, in my apartment. I'll send you the address. KJ

"May I come in?"

"Sure."

Killian realized that he had been frozen in the hall of his apartment maybe longer than necessary. He shook his head slightly and stepped aside so Emma could enter.

He still couldn't believe not only that Emma had accepted, but that he had made the offer in the first place. In his defense, it had been an improvised decision. While he had been chatting with Emma the day before, he had noticed his collection of cameras which were placed on a shelf in a privileged place in his living room. Killian had wondered what Emma's reaction would be if she saw those devices. And just like that, his fingers had begun to slide across the screen, offering the proposal to her.

"As you can see, it's a really small place." He commented while making a gesture encompassing the entire room in an attempt to break the ice.

"It's fine. My apartment is even smaller." Emma shrugged, offering him a shy smile. It seemed obvious that he was not the only nervous person in this awkward situation. Maybe that shouldn't be a relief, but in his case, it served to loosen a bit the nerves that had gripped his stomach.

"May I?" He asked, pointing to her jacket. She nodded as she took off it and handed it to him. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll be back in a second." Killian hung the jacket on the rack near the front door and headed toward the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink? Beer, coffee, tea?"

"A beer is fine, thank you."

Once in the momentary shelter of his kitchen, Killian forced himself to take two deep breaths as he took a long sip of his beer in an attempt to appease his nerves - or gain enough confidence to not behave like a complete fool in front of her.

The butterflies he had begun to feel in his stomach every time she was in his presence were not going to make it easy for him - that was obvious. From the moment the bell had rung, they had begun to flap furiously as he wondered if it had really been a good idea to invite Emma to his apartment.

He had only known her for three weeks, but that time had been enough for her to get under his skin in such a way as to make him unable to think of anything other than her and how he could help her enhance her talent.

At least the excuse of photography always existed between them, although he was fully aware that he was entering hazardous waters - and he was in danger of sinking beyond repair. The question was, was he willing to take the risk given all the demons that he was already carrying? He did not even have the courage to consider an answer.

After taking another swig of his beer, hoping that the bitter liquid would sweep away all his worries, he headed back to the living room, schooling his features so as not to betray his nervousness.

Kilian found Emma still standing, looking at some of the photos that were hanging on the wall. The moment she felt his presence, she turned around, searching his gaze.

"Have you brought all these photos from London?" She asked as she accepted the beer and brought the bottle to her mouth.

"Eh, no." Killian scratched behind his ear, as he put all his effort into diverting his gaze from her lips. "My friends chose the apartment and they even took care of the decoration. When I arrived, I just had to unpack." Mary Margaret had even filled the refrigerator and cupboards, turning an empty apartment into a place with a certain soul, he recalled as a wave of gratitude towards his friends washed over him.

"But you are the one who took the pictures, aren't you?" There was a special glow in her eyes, perhaps admiration? Killian wasn't sure.

"Aye."

Indeed, he had made all those photographs. David and Mary Margaret had been careful enough to choose them, making sure that there was no trace of desolation or sadness in them, just positivity, good memories and a hint of longing.

There were some black and white portraits that he had taken some time ago of his friends and even some self-portraits. David had also hung a couple of landscape photos that Killian had taken in his hometown, the place where, despite the abandonment and suffering he and Liam had endured, they had lived their childhoods, generating unforgettable family memories.

"They're good, Jones." Emma smiled at him, the brightness of her eyes increasing. "Although I guess you already know that."

"Well, I've been told a couple of times." He commented with ill-concealed pride, putting on again the mask of self-confidence, which had almost disappeared when the wave of memories had taken hold of him.

"So, were these photos what you wanted to show me? Because I must admit that I'm quite impressed. You could organize an exhibition with just this material." He should be used to the compliments he received for his work, but there was something in Emma, maybe the intensity of her gaze, maybe the glimpse of admiration in her voice, that caused his stomach to flutter without stopping while his chest swelled with pride and he lost the ability to function properly.

"Not really." They both placed the beers on the coffee table and Killian approached her, guiding her to the opposite wall, his hand in contact with the small of her back sending electric shocks all over his body. His heart thudded in his chest, in anticipation of what her reaction would be when she saw the cameras.

Once again, Emma managed to surprise him, but Killian was not sure if it was in a good way. The moment her gaze fell on the devices, her eyes widened slightly, as she extended a hand, sliding her fingers almost reverently over one of the cameras - an old Polaroid.

Killian's eyebrows went together as he studied her expression for some clue. It seemed that she was making great efforts not to burst into tears, her lips pressed together, her chin trembling subtly, her gaze thousands of miles away.

"Are you okay, Swan?" He couldn't help the concern in his voice as, in an impulse, his hand reached for her.

"I grew up in the foster care system..." She snapped suddenly but then trailed off, her gaze still lost. She blinked a couple of times and then looked up, her lips curving into a tiny smile. "This camera, or one of this kind, was the first purchase I made when I got some money."

So that was it, she was an orphan. Just like him. A shadow of something deep crossed her gaze, as an indication that her life had been far from pleasant. His heart tightened in his chest as a wave of sympathy towards her washed over him. He knew from his own experience that what she least needed at that moment was compassion. If she had decided to trust him, it was for some different reason and he had no intention of disappointing her. Once again, the photography came to his rescue.

"Do you still have it? The camera?" He asked in a soft tone as he gently squeezed her arm and gave her a smile that he hoped was comforting enough.

She shook her head while exhaling deeply. "No. I may have lost it when I was transferred from one house to another, but I still have the pictures I took with it." She paused for a moment while looking thoughtful, then continued talking, looking again at his gaze. "I had several cameras later until finally, I decided to just stick with the phone. A single object that included several functions seemed the most affordable option." She shrugged as if trying to justify herself. "But I still remember that camera and how powerful I felt when the image appeared in front of me in just a few minutes. It was like magic." Her smile became more genuine as a spark appeared in her eyes.

Killian was still surprised by the effect that photography seemed to have on them, as well as the strong connection between them, to the point of sharing the memories of their first camera. It was as if they had found the same way to channel their fears or frustrations, making their internal demons more bearable. Maybe it was really destiny who had decided that the path of these two lost souls would cross, he thought as a flame of hope seemed to intensify in his heart. It was still faint, but he was determined to cling to it with all his might.

Perhaps the time had come for him to also offer her some glimpse of his past, although he sensed that she knew much more about him than the other way around. "It's funny, Swan, because this was also the first camera I got. I was ten when my father abandoned us. My brother..." he trailed off as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Despite the fact that almost ten years had passed since Liam's death, he still felt his loss in the form of a fresh wound that never completely healed.

This time it was her turn to stretch out her arm, her hand searching for his as she squeezed it lightly. "He was working from dusk to dawn during the following months, and the first thing he got when he managed to save some money was this camera, trusting that maybe I would be distracted enough to forget the abandonment and its implications."

"Did it work?" Emma asked softly, her fingers drawing delicate patterns on the skin of his hand, causing a warm sensation to spread through his body, managing to stop the escalation of overwhelming thoughts that had begun to take hold of him.

"Aye. A new world opened before me the instant I realized I was able to capture small moments and make them eternal." His mind traveled to that small coastal town of England, the place where he grew up, while remembering fondly those years in which, despite the difficulties, he still had not lost hope and was able to look at the world with optimism through the lens of his camera.

They remained silent for a few seconds, their hands still intertwined as they watched the rest of the cameras. "We make quite the pair, right?" Emma commented in a light tone that still hid some vestige of sadness but at least she managed to relieve the tension, something to which he responded with a grateful smile. Her gaze then drifted to another of the cameras, an old Leica, one of his favorites.

"Whoa, this camera seems almost like a collector's." Her face lit up as she reached up to the camera, but her hand stopped before she touched the object. "May l?" She asked, hesitant.

"Sure, love. You can even take pictures with it."

"Are you sure?" She seemed reluctant, as if she did not dare touch the camera for fear of breaking it or something. If she knew the experiences that this camera had witnessed... It was a survivor, like its owner.

"I don't have these cameras as simple collection pieces, but as memories and as tools. Of course you can use them." Killian affirmed while he himself took the camera, and passed it to Emma.

"These cameras have traveled with you then? Yes?" She asked as she accepted the camera and held it carefully.

"Aye, and not only on my trip from London. Many of them have been my faithful companions on my numerous trips." And they are my only possessions, but he would not comment it out loud, not now that they had managed to channel the conversation, leaving their ghosts of the past forgotten, at least for a while.

During the following minutes, Emma took pictures with the Leica while Killian explained the mechanisms and differences with a digital camera. It took a while for her to adapt at first, but once she managed to lose her fear of the object, she was gaining confidence until it seemed natural, even giving him instructions on how he should position himself while he was acting as an improvised model. He happily complied, of course, his stomach fluttering fiercely as his heart swelled a little with admiration towards this strong and determined woman who had managed to overcome her past.

Time flew by and before they knew it the film was finished. Killian wasn't willing to let her go so soon, though. Luckily for him, he still had some other resources up his sleeve.

"What do you think if we continue with our lesson? The next step would be to learn how to develop photographs." He suggested while arching his eyebrows.

"You mean the photos of this film?" Her eyes sparkled with excitement, while she pointed to the camera she still held.

"No, sadly." He rubbed the back of his head while he pursed his lips in apology. "That would take us hours or days, but I can teach you the basics and maybe you can come back another day to develop your photo film."

A shadow of disappointment crossed her face, but she seemed to recover quickly. "Wait a minute... Do you mean that you have a dark room like those that come out in the movies? With trays of chemical solutions and all that stuff?" Emma practically bounced excitedly as her face lit up.

"There is only one way to find out." Killian offered her his hand which Emma gladly accepted as she let herself be guided. While holding her hand, Killian could feel the warmth of her touch, his heart beating hard against his chest. He ignored the physical reactions of his body and focused on continuing to surprise Emma with his knowledge. That was the only thing that really mattered, wasn't it?

"Whoa, you definitely take photography seriously." Emma commented as soon as they reached the room. "It's all very professional, isn't it?" Before he could respond to the obvious, Emma continued talking. "Even at the risk of looking a little obsessed with your trip from London, did you bring all this from there - all the liquids and that huge equipment?"

Her comment and her bemused expression drew a deep chuckle from his chest. "That equipment is called enlarger and I'm afraid that was also David's work." His smile grew smaller as he remembered his friend's reasons. "It was his way of encouraging me to continue taking pictures after..." His voice trailed off as he raised his left arm showing his prosthesis.

An awkward silence fell over them as he cursed inwardly and wished that the darkroom had been in fact - dark- in order to hide his expression of embarrassment.

He cast a sidelong glance at Emma, to check her reaction. She bit her bottom lip, as if she was thinking what to say. Finally, she was the one who broke the silence. "They seem like the best friends. You're lucky in that regard, Jones."

"That I am." It was all he managed to say without having to reveal his emotions too much.

"By the way, I don't know if this would sound insensitive. As you may have deduced, my social skills are not my forte... Anyway…, you are perfectly capable of doing awesome photos with just one hand. Your friends know it. I know it. Now you just have to convince yourself as well."

This time it was she who reached for his hand and entwined her fingers with his, her lips drawing a warm smile. A wave of gratitude seized him, as well as an almost unstoppable desire to do something that he would later regret when his gaze drifted to her lips.

Instead, he cleared his throat and, after offering her a smile of gratitude, he commented, his voice coming in a slightly hoarse tone than usual. "Shall we continue with the lesson, Swan?"

He explained to her as best he could the process of developing and printing photographs, while they practiced with some old negatives. Maybe it was their proximity, maybe the fact that they were together in a space so small and dark, illuminated only by a lamp that emitted a dim, reddish light. The fact was that he felt less and less able to concentrate on his task when the only thing he could feel was the warmth that emanated from her body, her essence and her soft voice.

There was a moment when he unconsciously placed his prosthesis on her waist while he reached for a pair of tweezers. This time however, the contact did not make her jump by surprise, but pulled her even closer to him. It was like that, with his left arm surrounding her waist while she leaned lightly on his side, witnessing the appearance of the first images on photographic paper.

"It's like magic." She muttered as she stared at the trays that contained the newly printed photographs. He, however, was unable to look at anything other than her. Despite the semi-darkness that surrounded them, the red light allowed him to appreciate her profile with relative clarity. It was as if, once they had entered the darkroom, a spell of attraction towards her had fallen on him, rendering him unable to function properly when all thoughts were filled with her.

"Thank you, Killian." Her gaze finally strayed from the trays to find his. "For everything."

Her proximity was driving him crazy, causing the butterflies of his stomach to flap mercilessly while his heart threatened to come out of his chest. Maybe for that reason, he put on the mask of seduction while leaning slightly towards her, tapping his lips with his fingers. "Well, maybe gratitude is in order now that we're in Thanksgiving week."

"Yeah, that's what the 'thank you' was for."

He was playing with fire, but something had seized him, making him unable to properly process what was happening, so he let himself be carried away by his instincts. The time to assume the consequences would follow later.

"That all my masterclass is worth to you?"

He murmured the words full of intention and stepped forward, but far from intimidating Emma, he seemed to capture her interest, since, after rolling her eyes, she addressed him in a no less seductive tone. "Please... You couldn't handle it."

Killian shortened the distance between them even more, his gaze traveling briefly from her lips to her eyes, the faint reddish lighting doing wonders on her face, making it even more attractive "Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it." He whispered with a deliberate emphasis on the final t, his eyes never leaving hers.

Emma seemed to accept the challenge though since, almost without giving him time to react, she grabbed him by the t-shirt and crushed his lips with her own in a demanding and heated kiss. Despite the initial shock, Killian acted quickly, cradling the back of her head with his right hand as he circled her waist with his left arm, pushing her even closer to him.

Her intoxicating taste, as well as the softness of her lips, caused his head to spin. He moaned against her mouth and angled his head to allow her deeper, causing his blood to run burning through his veins, spreading a warmth all over his body.

Just as their tongues began their first dance together, Emma pushed back, resting her forehead against his, both trying to catch their breaths. "That was..." His voice sounded like a muffled murmur, still too entranced by what had just happened.

"A one-time thing..." She breathed against his lips as she released the grip on his shirt and started to move away. "I..." The gloom of the room did not allow him to clearly observe her features, and he almost was grateful for it, because he was not sure he could bear to see the regret written over her face. "...I have to go."

Before he could react though, she had already left, leaving him alone, surrounded by darkness, while his lips tingled and his whole body hummed, craving more kisses like that.

Killian shook his head as his heart tightened in his chest, an overwhelming thought crossing his mind. He not only hadn't been able to handle it, but was probably also making the biggest mistake of his life. In no way could he develop feelings for anyone, much less for Emma Swan. He was not going to drag her into his spiral of misery.

Even so, although he was sure that Emma had made the right decision to leave, that did not stop him from feeling for a few seconds as if the last pieces of a complex puzzle had finally fit. Now, however, he ran the risk of that puzzle blowing to even smaller bits, making it impossible for the pieces to come together again. He let out a deep exhale as he rubbed his lips with his fingers, the vestige of her taste still lingering. He was so fucked up.

Is our exclusive Tuesday class still remaining? KJ

What did you have in mind? ES

Nature photos? KJ

Okay. ES

Good. See you on Tuesday. KJ

Even though Emma had confirmed that she would come, Killian was not entirely sure, since, after the kiss-incident, they hadn't seen each other again, nor had they maintained any communication except for the brief exchange of texts the other day.

For that reason, when he saw her appear at the entrance to the park in all her glory, he couldn't prevent a wide grin appearing on his face. He quickly schooled his features so as not to give away his excitement. Only a tiny smile remained on his face when his gaze met hers.

She was stunning that afternoon. Her long golden hair fell in gentle waves over her shoulders, while the unusual sun of late November illuminated her face. Despite her serious expression, her eyes showed a special brightness that he could not decipher. He had to suppress the urge to grab the camera and immortalize the fire in her gaze.

"Hi."

"Hey." She crossed her arms over her chest in a somewhat defensive manner, a faint crease between her eyebrows, her lips pressed together.

Although maybe she should be the one to explain, since it was she who started the kiss in the first place and who left after not giving them time to clarify what happened, he was in need of breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over them. He swallowed hard as he scratched behind his ear and his lips drew a small smile. "About the other day..."

"It was just a kiss." She cut him off abruptly. A sigh escaped her mouth before she continued as she shoved her hands in her back pockets and tilted her head slightly, seeking his gaze. "Look, the other day was a mistake... I mean, it's not going to happen again. It's better if we keep this relationship..." She gestured with her hand pointing to both of them "...if stay in that, in something merely educational. "

"Educational..." He echoed her word as he narrowed his eyes, studying her features in search of something, some hint that her feelings might be similar to his own. "There is no room for friendship then?" Killian challenged, holding her gaze. After a few seconds, she was the first to look away, while Killian counted it as a small victory. "Do you want me to treat you as a mere student, Swan?"

"I don't know." She exhaled deeply, rubbing her forehead with her hand, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. "It's complicated, and I don't want complications in my life, not now when I've found some kind of stability, and I don't want to screw things up in class." Her eyes returned to look for his and he held her gaze, keeping silent. "So, can we leave things as they are, forget what happened and... we'll keep figuring it out along the way? Please?" Her voice sounded almost like a plea as she bit her lower lip and gave him a disarming look.

"As you wish." He showed his agreement with a slight bow of his head. Maybe it was the spark he detected in her green eyes, just a glimpse, but promising enough, maybe the inability he felt to deny her anything, or maybe it was the fact that she was right. The fact was that Killian decided to accept her conditions, since she left the door open to maintain this kind of friendship that had been created between them. It was better for both of them if they slowed down any feelings that had started to blossom.

"Good..." Her smile of relief did nothing to calm his inner turmoil, though. "What do you think if we start the lesson, professor?"

He tried to concentrate on the practices while making sure that she understood all his explanations, maintaining a strictly professional image. But it was hard, almost torture, because each time their hands accidentally touched, he felt like an electric shock ran through his body. Each time he caught a glimpse of her gaze, his mind imagined how her eyes would shine under more pleasurable situations. Each time he felt his body next to hers, he felt her warmth radiating from her and attracting him like a magnet.

At the end of the class, he found himself with mixed feelings. On the one hand, he was willing to distance himself from her, and thereby release all the accumulated tension. On the other hand, the mere thought of not seeing her until the following Saturday left his body tingling as his heart beat hard.

Just as they were saying goodbye until the following Saturday, a thought crossed his mind, hitting him hard to the point of feeling as if all the air had escaped his lungs. The Friday before his next class would be the tenth anniversary of his brother's death. The memory fell on him like a slab, his old demons threatening to surface with a show of all their destructive potential. For the first time in a long time though, he thought it might be more bearable for him to deal with the suffering of remembering his brother's unjust death, because in this way his mind would be distracted, leaving no room to think about Emma Swan and his possible feelings towards her.

Thanks for reading. Let me know what did you all think :)

What to expect from the next chapter? Angst is coming... We will know how Killian deals with the anniversary of Liam's death and how that leads him to a confrontation with David. He may find unexpected support in one of his students...

#cs ff #cs au #csbb #captain swan ff #captain swan #mayquita writes #my cs writings #cs au ff #csbb 2018 #pictures of reality

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