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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #293

“your head upon a stick would look really sick, but they would call me crazy for the way i spoke to it”

Hey bitch, what's your fucking name? What a start, jc lmao. Brittany. What color are your nails? They're not painted. Last time you got some ass? Well this survey's gonna be a journey. Many years ago. Do your parents like your style/music choices? Yeah, at least most of it. Some music my mom really doesn't like or just hates, while I can't even imagine Dad's reaction to some bands I enjoy. Ever seen your parents make out? tbh would rather slam my ankle on a Razor scooter. What's your dream height and weight? Forget about my height, if I could just be at least 120 again... Do you put your hair up a lot or down? It's too short to put up. Most of the time do you straighten or curl your hair? Neither. What do you do when your house loses power? Light a bunch of candles and carry flashlights. What piercing do you hate? I'm not a fan of cheek piercings. Were you raised in a religious house? Yes. I grew up going to Sunday school and church, even though I hated both. Do your parents get mad when you're on the computer for hours? Gah... it was a very, very big source of argumentative fuel between Mom and me all the way up to my late teenage years when she just gave up; now, it's to be expected and is completely "normal." I always wanted to be on the computer once I was introduced to it; she tried to limit my time on it, and it was without fail what she would take away whenever I was grounded. I'd even sneak onto it when I wasn't allowed to if she wasn't home and Dad was in their room. My mom really did try to keep me from being hooked on technology, she really did, it just didn't work, but dear god I wish it did. I just about turn into a caveman without some form of it, and it's pretty pathetic. Dad meanwhile has never really cared much, but he'd make a comment here and there that would make me self-conscious about it. Have you ever been asked for a nude picture? No, and guess who would be ignored for the rest of their lives if they did. It's so fucking disrespectful and objectifying to me. If someone wants to send a partner something like that by their own volition, that's cool, but asking, that just seems incredibly rude to me and turns the person into an object of lust. Ever been so scared you pissed? Caaan't say I have. Can you watch scary movies at night and not be scared? Yeah, they've never really fazed me. Last reason you got your cell taken away? I actually don't know if that's ever happened, given the aforementioned computer thing. I was never hooked on my phone. Could you handle working on a farm? Nooooo, that is way too much physical exertion. Have you ever been attacked by an animal? No. Have you ever had to put an animal to sleep? ugh Do you have a favorite type of firework? Well, visually I really just like the big colorful ones, but I don't endorse the use of fireworks anymore. Some animals literally die from fear, they can be seriously upsetting to veterans with PTSD (you could have one in your neighborhood and never know you indirectly gave them a panic attack), and they're a large source of litter. Where would/did you get your first tattoo? My right wrist. What's your favorite kind of pet? Snakes. Favorite dinosaur? Spinosaurus is obviously the coolest. It's always been my fave. How many pets do you have? Sigh, just two. Our landlord doesn't want us to get anymore pets than what we came in with. What were two of your favorite Disney movies as child? The Lion King and Finding Nemo. They're still my favorite Disney movies. When carving pumpkins, how do you decide what you're going to do? I haven't carved a pumpkin in years... so idk. Do you own any art supplies? Some, yeah. Do you believe you have a higher IQ than most? Definitely not. What is the name of the doctor that delivered you? I have no clue. Mom knows him for sure because she's mentioned him from my childhood, but I don't. Have you ever seen a Lamborghini in person? Hunny, I live in rural North Carolina. You don't see that level of bougie here lmao. Shane Dawson: funny or annoying? I honestly think he's fucking hilarious. I just have such conflicting feelings about him after "the drama," hearing so many people's opinions (particularly from those who know him so well, like his fiance and Ryland's sister), fact checking, audio cutting and mixing, the whole "people change" philosophy... I don't know. When you have a container of Neapolitan ice cream, what flavor do you leave for last? I ain't touchin' strawberry. Gross. If you could choose to have any superpower ever, what would you pick? I'd wanna be a shapeshifter/druid. What would you be more embarrassed to buy: sex toys or adult diapers? Yikes, sex toys. Given my age, I'd say if I bought adult diapers, people would assume they weren't for me. I'm awkward enough with all things relating to sex to begin with, so. What’s the biggest animal you’ve ever killed? Yo wtf I never have and never will (intentionally) kill an animal. Well, correction: I've killed bugs before, the biggest probably being some spider or something, but I really try to avoid this now. Could you win the Hunger Games? lol hell to the fuck no, have you seen me??? For you, would getting amnesia be a good thing? ... Maybe? Not saying I wanna find out, though. Have you ever been punched in the face? No, plan on keeping it that way. Is morality universal or relative? I question this myself. Who is your favorite late night talk show host? I don't have one. Where do you put your keys when you get home? They stay in my purse. Do you prefer hot coffee or iced coffee? Neither. The sheer variety of questions relating to coffee and tea in surveys boggles my mind, always feel left out that I can't answer 'em lmao. What’s your phone background picture? My lock screen is this pretty, soft aesthetic screen that has "i am strong, i am loved, i am enough" written in the center. I've really needed it for my mental health lately. My home screen is some meerkats. I know, can you believe neither are currently Mark? Have you ever seen a snake in the wild? Plenty. How do you cope with anxiety? Deep breathing, mindfulness and grounding exercises, confiding in my mom, listening to music (usually my favorite calm, instrumental soundtracks, like from the Silent Hill franchise - particularly the second game! - or Shadow of the Colossus), try to nap, play a game as a distraction, watch my favorite YouTubers (typically something funny)... I'm lucky to have learned a lot. Now, if only I could cope with social anxiety... What was the last takeout food you ate? Oh Jesus, how embarrassing is this timing, seeing as it was one of my unhealthiest fast food orders: Son of the Baconator and Baconator fries from Wendy's. It was so fuckin good tho. Who makes you laugh the most? My friend Girt. What does a successful relationship look like to you? One with great communication and total honesty, and when you are able to build each other up and bring out the best in your partner. It's also imperative for you to feel safe being your authetic safe for me to consider it "successful." What do you like to put on your baked potato? "Salt, pepper, butter, cheese, bacon bits." <<<< That's how we do it, lads. What was the most memorable birthday you’ve had? My 16th, but not for good reasons. Would you rather go to the beach or the mountains? That's easy as hell, mountains. I don't like the beach. Do you look in the mirror before you leave the house? Yeah. Not gonna like what I see no matter what, but I'd like to make sure I don't look worse whan what's normal. Have you ever seen someone quit their job in a dramatic way? No. What do you like to dip your fries in? It varies between ketchup and honey mustard. What’s your favorite kind of museum? Science. Do you believe in alternate universes? Nah, I don't think so. Whose house did you last visit? My older sister's. What games do you play on your smart phone? Mostly just Pokemon GO nowadays. I haven't touched Dragons of Atlantis in a long time... Do you know anyone who is colorblind? Jason's older brother is red/green colorblind, I think? Are you the youngest, middle or eldest child in your family? Middle. What’s something you’ve been meaning to do but keep putting off? Ugh, I need to finish decorating my damn room... Got most of the stuff on the walls now, but it's still pretty skeletal in self expression. My motivation is abysmal. Have you ever flown a kite? Oh yeah, I loved to fly a kite with Dad as a little kid when the tobacco field just across the road was barren. Who was the last person you talked about sex/relationships with? My doctor. How many brothers does your father have? I'm almost certain he doesn't have one, just one sister. Do you think you act older or younger than your actual age? It depends on the situation. When it comes to "adulting," I don't have a fuckin clue what I'm doing. I doubt anyone would believe I'm a month shy of 25. In terms of general maturity, I think I act my age, if not older. When was the last time you swam in a pool? It's been years. What are your parents' views on your relationships? Mom is always very supportive so long as they treat me right; she's taken to all my previous partners very well and treated them like family, too. My dad is also supportive as long as I'm treated properly and happy. Is your best friend dating anyone? No. Have you ever babysat before? Twice, but not really willingly. Way too stressful. Do you delete pictures of you and your exes off of Facebook? It took a very, very long time, but all pictures with Jason are forever deleted. Ever had a huge crush on someone who still doesn’t know? Not a huge crush, no. Ever watched porn? No. You do you, but I don't see the appeal of watching some random people fuck. Ever performed in a talent show? No. Would you audition for a reality talent competition? Nope. How many celebrity crushes have you had? I'd say Jesse McCartney, Link Neal, and Mark Fischbach are my only BIG celeb crushes I've had. How many non-celebrity crushes have you had? I dunno, don't feel like reaching back and counting. Ever been compared to a celebrity? Not visually, but with my adoration of animals. Have any embarrassing pictures on Facebook? Oh, I'm sure. None that are horribly embarrassing though, or else I would have deleted them. Ever seen a therapist? I've regularly seen a therapist since the 6th grade. Ever purposely ignored a text? Yep. A Facebook message? Sure have, when I was beyond done arguing with a former friend. A friend request? No, I just decline or accept it. My page is private, so you can't see my activity, and it's not like they get notified if it's declined, Would you say you read into things too much? I am the fucking sovereign of this. If you turned out exactly like your mom would you be pleased? I love my mom to death, but no. I'd be disappointed. Ever had a credit card denied? I've never had one in the first place. Ever had the lead in a play? No. I do remember though in elementary school, I was real bummed that I wasn't Snow White for one we did for Music class. What about a solo in a concert? Never been in a concert. Would it bother you if you found out that your mother was pregnant? Well. One, she's long past menopause. Two, because of ovarian cancer, she had all those organs removed. So, that would be impossible. Have you ever had a threesome? No; I'm personally strictly monogamous and would feel it to be disloyal, even if my parnter was okay with it. What's the last game you used dice for? Not a clue. Are you interested in surfing at all? Have you ever been? No. What brand of bottled water do you prefer? Essentia. What is your favorite type of bird? Barn owls. What is your favorite chocolate candy? motherfuckin REESE'S Have you ever been called a racial slur? No, considering I'm Caucasian. Why did you last stand in line? I was at the doctor's office, I think? What is your favorite pirate movie? /shrug What is your favorite character from Orange Is the New Black? I've never watched it. What was the most unsettling film you’ve seen? Watching the ending to Paranormal Entity was VERY uncomfortable. It was a decently scary movie, but the ending was seriously intense. When was the last time you were snooping, and found something you wish you hadn’t? I don't recall. Which celebrity or band has the worst fan base? I don't know. What are you interested in that most people aren’t? The sheer degree of my love for meerkats would definitely be missed by probably most people. What smartphone feature would you actually be excited for a company to implement? I dunno. Anything I could think of, the most current products probably already have and I'm just uninformed of them. Like, I use a Tracfone lmao. What’s something people don’t worry about but really should? Their plastic usage and disposal. I'm certainly no saint when it comes to plastic either, but I try to do all I can. What movie quotes do you use on a regular basis? Hm, ARE there any? Do you think that children born today will have better or worse lives than their parents? This depends on what you consider "better" and "worse." Environmentally, I honestly don't think mankind can maintain itself for that many more generations at the rate we're currently at, so that's probably just gonna keep getting worse. On the other hand, advances in medicine and things like that will certainly continue to improve quality of life in that sense. Human rights are getting better and better. I do fear that we're becoming too comfortable with laziness and convenience, but I hope that's a decline we don't continue to venture down. What’s the funniest actual name you’ve heard of someone having? I had a college classmate named Apple. Which charity or charitable cause is most deserving of money? Oh, come on now. It's not a competition. What game have you spent the most hours playing? So. When you type /played in World of Warcraft, it will show you your total playtime, and mine is YIKES. Like, around a year's worth of time of pure playing since 2014, I think. What’s the most comfortable bed or chair you’ve ever been in? I don't recall. What’s the hardest you’ve ever worked? When I did WiiFit religiously and lost around 40 pounds in HS. I was in the best shape of my life. What movie, picture, or video always makes you laugh no matter how often you watch it? Oh, there's certainly something. Probably some Unus Annus clip. That channel was a fucking blessing and a curse all the same. If you could have an all-expenses paid trip to see any famous world monument, which monument would you choose? Oh boy, I'd have to think, but probably somewhere in Rome or Greece. What’s the coldest you’ve ever been? I'm unsure. Probably jumping in the pool as a kid. My sisters and I would nag Dad to put the pool up on like the very first day of spring, so of course it was cold, but as a kid, I didn't mind that. What’s the most ridiculous thing you have bought? Hm. What’s the most depressing meal you’ve eaten? Ha ha yiiiikes, struggle foods... I don't know, but I've had some. What outdoor activity haven’t you tried, but would like to? Herping, though I change my mind on-and-off about it. I'm not very into the idea of disturbing wildlife just because they're cool and you wanna check them out. I'd totally go exploring with a camera, though, and not actually pick anything up. If you were given five million dollars to open a small museum, what kind of museum would you create? Hm... I actually think something like an art museum for the mentally ill would be pretty interesting and educational? Even something that could build empathy. Maybe mix some psychology in there to understand conditions.

#survey #surveys #questions #questionnaire #lyrics: ''apex predator'' by otep

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loulougoingsolo · 4 years

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Whose paw print was that??!

Who knew all it took for me to get out of a funk was a dead, funky rat? Let’s vlog about that!

I live in the countryside, and across the road from my house, my neighbours keep chicken and horses, which means the rodent population in this area is strong. I get my fair share of the rodents regularly visit my quarters, but thankfully, the ones who get indoors, are mostly tiny mice. I’ve also managed to block most entryways to my kitchen and livingroom, and my little visitors can’t access my inner sanctum anymore - but I have traps in my hall / bathroom wing (this is a really tiny house, so wing is a bit of an overstatement), and I catch a mouse every now and then. I have an agreement with the surrounding nature - if the animals come to my home uninvited, I have the right to kill them. If I disturb wild animals in their living quarters, they have equal rights to kill me. But in today’s vlog, no-one is getting killed. The culprit to the mysterious stink in Link’s house is most certainly already dead, and the mission for today is to find the carcass.

But in today’s vlog, no-one is getting killed. The culprit to the mysterious stink in Link’s house is most certainly already dead, and the mission for today is to find the carcass.

My parents have a much bigger house than I do, and they get some mice in the attic every now and then - and because they rarely go there, the way they sometimes find out there’s a mouse caught in a trap is by the horrifying smell that comes down through the air vents. My mom has a really bad sense of smell, so usually it’s me who smells it first, when dropping by. It’s amazing how much a tiny mouse can smell - and I can only imagine how horrifying a bloated dead rat is. My parents also have had rats a few times, and the most recent one took weeks to catch, but fortunately we finally caught it and it didn’t have time to start smelling.

(In case you’re asking why it was me and my mom who did the hunting, and not my dad...let’s just say that my dad is a gentle spirit, and unfazed by the expectations put on the male gender by the society. He does own blue overalls, though.)

Link has invited Rhett over to his house to find the stink, and Rhett arrives, looking like a very tall truck driver. Somehow, he pulls off the look quite well - and we should probably get used to it, since a hat is an efficient way to control the mane. I wonder when we are getting a new Mythical hat, I have the black and camo one from a couple of years back, and I’d very much like another (it turned out to be a useful thing to wear in the sun, after I got over the fact that I, too, look like a truck driver wearing it.)

Turns out, the Neals have an actual rat problem. My personal opinion is that they should probably get an exterminator to drop by. One rat trap isn’t going to solve this - and based on how Jade prefers to sniff the house plants instead of guarding the house from furry intruders, she is no help in the battle.

I really envy the fancy coffee maker. My dad has one, and I regularly drop by just to drink coffee just because it grinds the coffee beans. But it would be an overkill to buy an expensive thing like that just for myself, when I drink two cups (well, two enourmous mugs, really) max per day. Which reminds, me, now would be a good time to make that second cup. But isn’t this nice?

Oh man, Link’s overalls are exactly like the ones my dad has, and just like my dad, he has to make a little dance performance after putting them on. I don’t want to think that Link is just like my dad, only 30 years younger. And then he does things like this. When he walked through the gate wearing a head lamp, I cracked up. My dad ALWAYS wears a head lamp when he does something where he needs to see properly. Is there some manual of how to be a dad where they teach this stuff?

For someone who doesn’t watch horror films that often, Link really knows how to enter the space under his house in a very genre accurate way. This vlog could easily be turned into a horror film, and I’m personally a little scared of what’s to come. But I’m sure we’d heard by now if the guys somehow ended up eaten by giant rats while filming this, so maybe they’re ok.

Now that we got Link under the house, I want to tell a story about a rat who lived under my parents’ trash can (outside) one year. I was house watching for my folks while they were traveling, and because it was November, it was the time of year when mice usually start coming inside houses to escape the winter. I caught 6 mice during the two weeks, and each time I caught one, I took it to the outside thrash can, in a plastic bag.

My parents knew the trash can needed to be replaced, because it had a hole in the bottom, and when they finally came back home, they dropped by to get a new trash can. When they went on to remove the old trash can from the place it was standing in, a rat ran away from under it, and was never seen again. It had been living under there for a while, and had organized the space very neatly. The dead mice I had carried out were lined up next to each other in one corner, and the plastic bags in which they used to be, were in another corner. The rat was saving the mice to eat later.

So, that pile of trash under Link’s house, was most likely put there by either the rats while tidying the place, or by whatever animal it was that left that paw pring in the dirt. I think that could be a raccoon paw print - they have five “fingers” like humans. Looks like the Neal house is home to all kinds of creatures, big and small. I wonder if the raccoons took food under the house, and the food attracted the rats to come over, too?

Link crawling in thight small spaces reminds me of the movie Descent, and that is possibly the scariest film I’ve ever watched. I’m so glad he got out of that hole alive.

How old exactly is the house Link lives in? The roof space looks like it’s been there for decades, and for some reason I assumed this was a fairly new building. Whoever owned the place before the Neals was obviously aware of the rats, so I really hope Link gets someone professional to sort this out before he has to sit on the sofa with a family of rats to watch tv.

Well, at least the source of the stank is found, and probaly only hours before an explosion which would have made things even more unpleasant. And because this gruesome story can’t really get any worse at this point, I’m going to say that a dead rat is food for more rats - and leaving rat traps unattended means that if they ever caught anything, they probably lured more rodents to the space. And who knows what other creatures, flies and bugs, and...eww.

I know the reason the rat looks so chubby is because it’s literally ready to explode, but that is by no means, a small rat. Are rats, like everything else, bigger in America? (I was going to place the screenshot of the stinker here, but let’s just not do that.)

So, what did this vlog teach us? As the sorroful notes of the trumpet travel across the neighbourhood (I wonder what Link’s neighbours thought of this?), and the rat is put into it’s temporary resting place (before the dump), we can admire Link for his bravery in dealing with this ordeal. We can appreciate the fact that Rhett looks like a senior skateboarder with his cap reversed (I prefer this version of his look).

Most of all, we now know that under the peaceful exterior of the Neal residence, someone with five fingers in each of their hands, crawls in the dead of night, looking for a way to access the house, and the innocent people and dog, who sleep in their beds, thinking they are safe.

Let’s not think about that.

#rhett and link vlog #vlog 7 #the one where they search for the stink #rhett and link #may be the best vlog so far #and this post turned into a horror story #but I loved the vlog #link was so brave

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awkwardnessandbaseball · 4 years

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This might, honestly, be one of my favorite chapters of this story. It’s very simple and (imho) very sweet :)

Once again, so many thanks to: @cspupstravaganza, @sherlockianwhovian, and @lassluna

Tag list: @quirkykayleetam, @squidvisious, @carpedzem, @kmomof4, @revanmeetra87, @capnjay21 (Message me to be added!)

AO3 if that’s your jam: Prologue | Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7

I’d Pick You (and Your Little Dog, Too)

A Captain Swan Pupstravaganza Story

Summary: According to everyone in the known universe, Emma Nolan’s dog is supposed to lead her to her soulmate. But she’s not even sure if she wants that. Soulmates are pretty idealistic, don’t you think?

Chapter Five:

Six Months Later.

It shouldn’t be a surprise when David brings up the topic of his moving out when they meet for lunch, just the two of them. Emma should have seen the conversation coming, really, but she’s been so caught up in her own romance, in having someone to share her innermost thoughts with, in Rascal having a playmate besides Princess… that she’s completely caught off guard.

“Mary Margaret and I are going to move in together,” David tells her, spaghetti sauce lingering in the corners of his lips. Emma opens her mouth to interrupt, but he keeps going before she can. “And we were thinking that maybe we could just… keep doing what we’re doing. I’ll move into the loft, and Killian could move in with you--”

“I’m sorry, what?” Emma nearly yells, but then lowers her voice, remembering that they’re at Granny’s, in the middle of the Saturday lunch rush, in a town full of gossips. “You moving in with Mary Margaret… sucks, if I can be selfish for a second, but... it makes sense. But why would you think Killian and I would move in together?”

David looks at her like she’s grown an extra head.

“Because he spends literally every single night at the apartment with you?” David offers, but Emma sits silently, staring daggers at him, so he continues. “Emma, you spend nearly every waking moment with him. You’re soulmates. It just… makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Emma thinks about it. She tries to remember the last time she slept alone, one side of her bed cold, with only Rascal at her feet instead of the extra weight of a second dog. Or the last time she woke up to the smell of her brother’s burnt coffee (or worse, nothing at all) instead of the delicious pancakes Killian’s taken to cooking for her.

It had happened so naturally that Emma didn’t even notice. One night, she was sleeping alone in her too-large bed, her brother snoring away in the bedroom down the hall, and the next, David was away at Mary Margaret’s and Killian had taken up residence against Emma’s side.

And then it just sort of stayed like that.

More often than not, they fall asleep on the couch, watching movies and old TV shows, Rascal and Procella curled up together in the armchair. Usually, they wake up together and the four of them trudge to the bedroom and resume their snuggling in a much more comfortable way. Occasionally, when Emma’s had a long day or hasn’t been sleeping well, she’ll fall asleep on the couch and wake up in her bed, with no recollection of getting there. Killian blushes whenever she asks him if he’s carried her down the hall, telling her that she just must not remember waking up.

The man carries her to bed.

All told, dating Killian is simple. There’s no grand gestures, which tend to make Emma self-conscious, and there’s no begging for sex, which Neal had done constantly. It’s exactly like it was when they were meeting for lunch every week, except that they’re together almost all the time.

Plus she gets to see a lot more of that chest hair.

It’s actually kind of gross - the sickeningly sweet relationship, not the chest hair - and Emma is constantly surprised at how comfortable she is with it. Must be a soulmate thing.

But still. Moving in together? It just seems so fast.

“I don’t want to scare you, Emma, but you’ve got a really wistful look on your face.” David is smirking now, and Emma knows he’s right, really. That swapping out names on a lease won’t change anything, that they’ve already been practically living together for six months.

At that exact moment, just as she’s weighing her options, debating the fear she’s feeling versus the idea of something more permanent, Killian and Mary Margaret walk in the door of the diner.

Any stress Emma feels completely dissipates when her eyes meet Killian’s, and she knows she’s lost the battle. And she can’t even be that upset about it.

“We’re not here to interrupt,” Mary Margaret chirps, all heart-eyes as she looks at David. “We’re starting our own Saturday tradition, but it also involves Granny’s. So… we’re just taking it to go.” She leans down to give David a chaste kiss, and then looks at him meaningfully. “We’ll let you get back to it.”

Emma watches the two of them, and imagines the conversation they must have had that led them here. Or, more likely, conversations. Plural. Because Emma knows her brother, knows that he knows all of her insecurities and her fears and she’s sure that it would have taken ages for him to work up the courage to talk to her about moving out.

Especially after last time.

But, Emma rationalizes, this time is different. For one, Mary Margaret is clearly David’s soulmate. There’s a reason they’re together all the time, a reason they practically live together. Moving in together isn’t just the logical next step in their relationship: it’s literally the only next step. Emma’s seen David looking at rings online during their many hours of downtime at work. She’s not stupid.

Plus, she thinks to herself, I’m not exactly alone, am I? She looks up at Killian again. At this man who chose to get to know her agonizingly slowly despite knowing full well that they were meant to be. Who’s never pushed her or made her uncomfortable.

Her brother is right.

After an uncomfortable amount of silence and meaningful looks on both sides of the table, Emma rolls her eyes and grabs the end of Killian’s jacket sleeve. He settles in beside her, casually throwing an arm around her shoulders.

“You can join us, Mary Margaret. We’ve already talked,” Emma says.

“We have?” David asks, eyeing his sister carefully.

“Yeah, we have.” She smiles and David seems to catch her meaning because he smiles back, crinkles forming in the corner of his eyes.

************

As Emma climbs into her brother’s truck, she’s struck with the strangest sense of deja vu. She turns around, sees the piles of furniture and boxes tied up in the truck bed, and she realizes that she’s done this before.

She knows, obviously, that her brother moved out before. She’d helped him move. But those memories are so surrounded by darkness, loneliness, and downright sadness that she’s shoved them out of her mind until right this moment. But this time, she feels a little hopeful.

Just a little.

“Ready?” David asks as he climbs into the driver’s seat.

“Yeah,” Emma says, and it’s not a lie.

When they arrive at the loft, Mary Margaret and Killian are waiting outside. Just the sight of him makes Emma smile, which then makes her cringe.

Sickeningly sweet, she thinks to herself. But she can’t bring herself to be upset at the simple happiness she’s feeling. She surprises him -- and herself -- by wrapping her arms around his neck when she steps out of the truck.

“Hi,” she says, followed by a soft kiss on his mouth.

“Well hello, love.” He’s smiling. She smiles back.

“Uh, are we moving today or are we all just making out on the front lawn?” David asks, his arms folded across his chest, but there’s no anger on his face. Just a small smirk in the corner of his mouth.

“Sorry, Dad,” Emma groans, separating herself from Killian and grabbing a box out of the truck bed.

When it’s all over, and David’s moved into the loft, and Killian’s moved into the apartment, Emma collapses on the couch. Rascal hops up beside her and situates himself with his head in her lap.

“Tired?” Killian asks her.

“Are you not?” Emma knows he must be. Her muscles are screaming, her eyes closing of their own accord.

“Oh, certainly. But I’d hoped we could celebrate.” He pulls out a bottle of wine from behind his back.

“Celebrate what?” Emma snorts. “You know we’ve been doing this for six months now, it’s just that now your stuff is in my closet instead of all the way back at home. You can actually get dressed in fresh clothes in the morning.”

“And that’s not cause for a celebratory glass of wine?” Killian asks, putting the bottle down and walking back to the kitchen to get two glasses.

“One glass, Jones.” She holds up a finger to emphasise her point. “And then you can carry me to bed like the gentleman you are.”

“Oh, I think I can handle that.”

It turns out living together is exactly like practically living together, in almost every conceivable way. Emma has to make room in her closet, but they’ve got a spare room now, so she just moves her shorts and her summer dresses into David’s old closet and leaves her thick coats and heaviest shirts in her own room until the winter chill finally subsides.

There are still pancakes every morning, and most nights they still fall asleep on the couch for a few hours before slowly migrating to their bed.

Their bed.

It’s all very domestic, and Emma slowly stops waiting for the other shoe to drop. She stops waiting for the morning she’ll wake up and there won’t be a handsome Englishman waiting for her, stops hesitating before she opens up the door for fear that his stuff will all be gone.

She stops being afraid.

#cspupstravaganza #captain swan #captain swan fanfic #cs fanfic #cs ff #CAITLIN WRITES

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emospritelet · 6 years

Note

For Dark Heart, prompting #99: “This was fun— Lets do it again sometime!” and also #150: “What on earth are you wearing?” (Sending two in case someone's already sent one of them. You can choose whichever strikes your fancy.)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Part 22] [Part 23]

AO3 link

Belle had felt bad for snapping at Gold over things that weren’t really his fault, especially when there were other, far more appropriate reasons to snap at him, and she resolved to try to be civil with him when she returned to the house that evening. For his part, he greeted her calmly, if a little cautiously, and she swept Gideon up into her arms for a hug while he made a start on the dinner.

“I’m doing herb-crusted salmon,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at her as he took a roasting tin from the cupboard. “Fine beans, potatoes and a white wine and cream sauce. Is that okay?”

“Sounds delicious,” she said, and after he turned away she added. “I - I haven’t eaten this well in maybe two years.”

Gold turned back with a tiny smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

“Well, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like,” he said.

She didn’t know what to say to that, having already said she would move out when her father came out of hospital, but the tension between them had eased, and so she sent him a brief smile. He poured her a glass of wine, and she carried it out to sit on the back porch with Gideon in her arms, bouncing him on her knee as he played with a colourful plastic rattle. She took a sip of her wine, and her phone buzzed in her pocket. Belle put down her glass, fishing it out and smiling as she saw who was calling.

“Hey.” Emma’s voice crackled a little. “Thought I’d give you a chance to find your feet. How’s your dad?”

“He’s a little better,” said Belle. “In hospital for longer than I thought, though. He comes out Friday.”

“And Gideon?” she asked. “How’s he dealing with the change of scene?”

“Water off a duck’s back,” said Belle dryly. “You know how he is. Everyone’s been fussing over him, so he’s in his element.”

Emma chuckled a little, but then fell silent.

“What about you?” asked Belle, wanting to avoid the inevitable question she could sense floating around in Emma’s mind. “Did Henry get that part in the play?”

“Oh, it wasn’t an acting part he wanted,” said Emma. “He’s on the writing team. Chief dramatist, he likes to call himself. Little guy’s gonna be a screenwriter or something, Neal says.”

“Well, he has the imagination for it,” said Belle.

“Uh-huh. Speaking of drama, are you gonna tell me what else happened in the past week?”

Belle sighed, hugging Gideon a little closer.

“Well, he knows,” she said dryly.

“How’d that go?”

Belle shook her head.

“Badly. I mean - things are better now, but he was furious.”

“Well, you knew that would be a possibility,” said Emma frankly. “We talked about it. Extensively.”

“I know, I know.” Belle rubbed at her eye with the heel of her hand. “I shouldn’t have put things off for as long as I did. Neal was right, I - I should have told him sooner.”

“Hey, you were scared!” protested Emma. “And from what you told us, you had good reason! Guy was an asswipe!”

“Yeah,” said Belle, her tone wry. “He absolutely was.”

“But you said it’s getting better?”

“Yeah.” Belle kissed Gideon’s head, breathing in his scent. “He’s been - he’s really trying. He’s taking care of Gideon while I work the shop - seriously, he’s so good with him! He’s a natural!”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line.

“You had sex with him, didn’t you?” said Emma accusingly, and Belle blushed.

“What?” she protested. “I - I never said that!”

“Well, now I know you had sex with him,” snickered Emma, and Belle groaned.

“Look, it was an accident, okay?” she sighed. “We yelled a lot, and emotions got the better of us. Can you just keep it to yourself?”

“Your secret’s safe with me, babe,” she said. “Neal says hi, by the way. And not to do anything he wouldn’t. Guess we’re a little late for that.”

“Oh, you’re hilarious,” said Belle dryly, as Emma cackled.

The sound of a rhythmic tapping and Gold’s uneven tread approached, and she looked around as he appeared on the porch with his own glass of wine in his hand.

“Look, I gotta go,” she said. “I’ll call you, okay?”

“Sure thing. Try not to bang your babydaddy too hard.”

Belle rolled her eyes, amused, and swiped at the phone to hang up. Gold lowered himself into the chair beside her, taking a sip of wine.

“How was your day?” he asked carefully, and she shrugged.

“Quieter than I would have liked, but I broke even,” she said. “You?”

“A couple of small loans and someone buying a piece of jewellery, that’s all,” he said dismissively. “I - uh - I spoke to Dove, by the way. He says the house will be ready to move into on Thursday. Cleaning the basement took longer than he thought.”

“Oh, that actually works out well,” she said. “Dad comes out Friday. I spoke to Dr Whale.”

Gideon wriggled in her arms, grumbling, and she let him slip to the floor, holding onto one of his hands as he found his balance. He glanced around, lower lip protruding, then wandered over and slapped his hands on Gold’s knees, burbling at him.

“You want a tour of the garden?” asked Gold, and set down his wine glass.

Belle watched as he got the cane underneath himself and pushed to his feet, picking up Gideon in the crook of an arm and carrying him down the wooden steps to the garden. Gold set him down, taking his hand and walking slowly along the neat strip of grass between the flower beds. He was talking to Gideon as they went, telling him the names of the flowers in a low, gentle voice, and Gideon stopped to sniff one, beaming up at Gold and getting a soft-eyed smile in return. Belle leaned back in her chair, an unfamiliar feeling of contentment flowing over her. He clearly wanted to make things work with their son. Perhaps it would be okay. Perhaps they could be friends.

Tuesday morning dawned with a blue and hazy sky, the air already warm and filled with the chirps of birds and the lazy drone of insects. Gold found himself drinking his morning coffee with only Gideon for company, and had just about finished feeding his son breakfast when Belle hurried downstairs looking stressed, a bundle of clothes in her arms and her hair a wonderfully tangled mess.

“I can’t believe I overslept!” she fretted. “You should have woken me!”

“You have plenty of time,” he said calmly. “What would you like to eat?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” She cast her eyes about, chewing her lip. “You mind if I do some laundry?”

“Of course not,” he said. “You didn’t need to ask. Out of clean things?”

“I - I lost track of the days,” she said vaguely. “Didn’t realise I’d gone through everything I packed until this morning. Gideon still has some clean stuff, though.”

“Everything you need is under the sink.”

She stuffed the armful of clothing into the washing machine, adding liquid and softener before turning it on.

“I know it won’t be done before I go to work…” she began, looking harassed.

“I can take it out and hang it up to dry,” he said calmly. “Sit down, let me make you some breakfast.”

“In a minute…” She swept her hair out of her eyes. “I can’t believe I didn’t think about bloody laundry!”

“Why don’t you just go and get Gideon ready?” he suggested. “I’ll make you eggs on toast, and I can deal with the laundry while you’re at work. I won’t spontaneously combust if I have to handle your underwear.”

She shot him a flat look at that, a hint of amusement in her eyes, and bent to sweep Gideon up in her arms.

“Let’s get you ready, young man,” she said firmly, and he belched, throwing up partly-digested porridge over her shirt. Belle groaned, raising her eyes to the ceiling as Gideon started to cry.

“I don’t believe this…”

“His timing is impeccable,” observed Gold, and she sighed, stomping out of the room and up the stairs, the sound of Gideon’s wailing floating back down.

Gold grinned to himself, getting up to wipe down Gideon’s chair and wash the breakfast dishes. His eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. Gone eight o’clock. It wouldn’t matter if he was a little late opening the shop. He could stick around until Belle’s laundry was done, catch up on a little paperwork, check his emails. The paternity test results were due to arrive that day, and nerves were digging at him, whispering snide words in his mind. He had slept poorly, knowing the test results wouldn’t be out until office hours, but unable to rest despite that, and he hoped he wouldn’t have to wait all day.

He had not mentioned his visit to Dr Hopper to Belle, largely because he was still trying to process what the doctor had said for himself. While he had finally admitted that he needed outside help if they were to build a good relationship, he was by no means certain that he was capable of doing what Dr Hopper suggested. He intended to try, though. Just as soon as it was confirmed that Gideon was his.

The sound of feet on the stairs made him look around, and Belle swept into the kitchen with Gideon in her arms, both of them changed into clean things. Gold blinked, his mouth falling open. She was wearing a blue silk shirt, tied in a knot at her waist with the sleeves rolled up. The colour brought out her eyes, the deep pink of her lips and the pale perfection of her skin, and he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away.

“Is that my shirt?” he asked, and she glanced over, bouncing Gideon in her arms.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said apologetically. “I had literally nothing else to wear.”

“I… Of course not, no,” he managed. “Raid my wardrobe as much as you please.”

“Thank you.”

She smiled, kissing Gideon’s head, and flicked her eyes across to meet his.

“You sure you’re okay to have him this morning?” she asked. “I’ll go visit Dad this afternoon, take Gideon to see him.”

“Fine with me,” he said. “Why don’t we have lunch at the diner?”

Belle’s smile widened.

“I’d like that.”

Lunch at Granny's had been pleasant, Belle opting for the chicken Caesar salad instead of her usual burger. The day was hot, and she walked into the coolness of the hospital’s air-conditioned corridors with a sigh of relief. Her father was sitting up, drinking a cup of tea, and his eyes narrowed as he looked her over.

“What on earth are you wearing?” he grumbled, and Belle looked down.

“Oh - it’s laundry day,” she said, feeling a little self-conscious. “Gideon threw up on me, so I borrowed one of Alex’s shirts.”

“Getting kind of domestic, aren’t you?” he said sourly. “Why are you still at his house, anyway?”

“Because yours was a shithole, that’s why,” she said tartly. “It’ll be clean by the time you get out of here, and I’ll be moving in, too.

“I don’t want him slithering back into your life.”

“It’s just a shirt, Dad.”

He grunted at that, and Belle sighed to herself, picking Gideon up out of the stroller and sitting down with him on her lap. He was sleepy after his lunch, head lolling against her, and she kissed his forehead gently as he slipped into a doze.

“Are we still on for Friday?” she asked, and Moe nodded.

“Dr Whale had me up and about today,” he said. “Weak as a bloody kitten, I am.”

“Well, he said to expect that,” said Belle. “You’ll get better.”

He grunted again, as though he doubted it.

“How are things at the shop?”

“A little slow the past couple of days,” she admitted. “Not sure everyone knows we’re open again. I thought I might make an announcement at Granny’s, or something.”

“There are a couple of weddings this month, if I remember rightly,” he said.

“Yeah, I saw the orders,” she said. “I’ve asked the supplier for extra peonies, and I just hope I can make the arrangements to your standard.”

“Phone me with that video app thing you’ve got and I can talk you through it,” he said, and she nodded, relieved.

“I’m gonna have to shorten the opening hours when I’m looking after you,” she added. “Any more word on how long that’s likely to be?”

“Couple of weeks, Whale said.” Moe finished his tea. “I guess you’re wanting to get back to Boston, huh?”

Belle hesitated.

“Of course.”

“Nothing to keep you in this town once I’m back to rights, is there?”

“Sounds like you want to get rid of me,” she teased, and his mouth flattened.

“I think you did the right thing when you left,” he said. “There’s no future for you here. You or the kid.”

“You’ll come and see us though, right?” she asked. “And - and Alex says he wants to bring Gideon here, on alternate weekends. He’ll want to see his grandpa as he gets older.”

“What, you think that man’ll let me have a relationship with my grandson?” Moe sounded bitter. “Probably spend all his time trying to poison his mind against me.”

Belle frowned.

“He wouldn’t do that,” she said sharply. “And of course you’ll have a relationship with Gideon! I haven’t worked out any of the details of how we’re gonna do this, but we’ve been waiting for the test results to come back before we decided anything.”

Moe’s eyes widened.

“He made you get a bloody paternity test? Of all the bloody nerve!”

“It’s necessary if we want to formalise anything,” she said. “Stop getting insulted on my behalf!”

Moe looked away with a scowl, and Belle rolled her eyes. Getting the two men in her life to even be civil to one another was going to be an uphill struggle.

Gold had felt his anxiety grow as the day wore on, increasing with every minute that there was no email letting him know the result of the test. His laptop was open on the workbench, and he checked it every time it made the noise that signalled a new message, hands shaking in anticipation before the inevitable disappointment at finding another spam email. By the time three o’clock came, he was on the verge of calling the company he had sent the sample to, and started the restoration of an antique lantern to try to take his mind off things.

The computer beeped again, and Gold looked up, swiping with his finger at the touchpad and telling himself not to get his hopes up. His heart thumped when he saw the sender of the email, and he licked his lips, opening up the message. He read it over three times before sitting back, letting out the breath he had been holding with a sigh of relief. Not that he had doubted it, not really, but this proved it. Gideon was his son. A smile played across his face, and he felt a surge of emotion go through him. He would get to be a father, get to do everything he had missed out on with Bae. He would get to see his son grow up, be a meaningful part of his life. And he would have a good relationship with his mother. He was determined to make that work.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he fished it out, his smile widening as he saw Ella’s name pop up. His thumb swiped at the screen to answer.

“You always did have good timing,” he said.

“Alexander.” Ella’s drawling voice oozed out of the phone. “How are you, darling?”

“I was about to call you,” he said. “The test result. It’s positive.”

“Well then, I imagine congratulations are in order,” she said, and he smiled.

“I’ll need you to make a start on what we discussed,” he added.

“I’ve already drafted the deed of trust,” she said. “I’ll email it over and you can have a look. I suggest coming in to finalise the rest, if you’re able to get down to Boston.”

“I need to speak to Belle, first,” he said. “I think it’s best I let her know what I’m proposing for our son.”

“You think she’ll object? She’d be a fool to.”

“No, I don’t think that,” he said. “I just - I don’t want her to feel that I’ve gone behind her back and not consulted her, that’s all.”

“Hmm. Very well.”

There was a moment of silence.

“I looked into your Belle French, by the way,” she said. “Very interesting indeed.”

Gold sat down on the stool, his heart thumping.

“Tell me.”

#jackabelle73 #fic: dark heart #rumbelle fic #my fic #tinuviel-undomiel #rumbelle

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welllpthisishappening · 6 years

Text

Playing Man Down

It’s the dumbest idea in the history of all ideas.

There is no idea that has been more dumb than this one. And yet...Emma’s stubborn and determined and really goddamn good at playing lacrosse. So she’s going to prove it. To everyone. To her friends and her ex-boyfriend and the unfairly attractive guy she just so happens to be sharing a room with.

Or: a lacrosse themed She’s the Man AU

Rating: Like a low M. Swearing. Kissing. Lacrosse slashing. Word Count: Probably way too many, that’s why it’s two chapters. AN: Several months ago I had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week and in an attempt to reclaim some of my positivity I asked the internet for CS prompts. One of them was a She’s the Man AU, which let’s be honest, is a classic of our time, but I’d just written an Out of the Frying Pan soccer story, so they play lacrosse instead. Because, let’s also be honest, Killian Jones is a for realz lax bro name. Also I love lacrosse a lot. I’m bringing this back because it never got posted on its own and because I’ve been covering a lot of lacrosse recently and for no other reason than I really enjoyed writing this.

Also on Ao3 where there are two chapters because words and an entire never-ending list of prompts that I am always open to add onto.

It’s hot.

She remembers that.

She doesn’t remember much else. It all seems to happen in a blur – anger clouding her vision and her muscles and Emma’s vaguely aware of making some kind of strangled sound, but she can barely hear it over the rushing in her ears and then she’s moving and her hands are moving and it’s not exactly good form, a fact Neal is quick to point out, but she’s fueled solely on frustration and fury and, possibly, global warming.

Because it is so goddamn fucking hot.

She punches him and smacks at his shoulder and then tries to check him, without a stick in her hand and she wishes she had a stick in her hand because she’d slash him in the knees. That’s not even the right term.

Neal would point that out as well.

Because, she’s suddenly realized, Neal Cassidy is a goddamn fucking asshole.

“This is something we’ve known for years,” Ruby mutters after Emma’s just recounted the story again and her words are starting to slur together the more she repeats herself. Or the more alcohol she drinks.

She’s had a considerable amount of alcohol to drink.

“Hey,” Elsa chastises softly, but it doesn’t really sound all that threatening when the three letters all sound like one, enormous sound and Emma’s head is starting to pound. Mary Margaret is an incredibly heavy weight against her side, resting on Emma’s shoulder with an arm draped over her legs and a faint hint of tequila smell just wafting through the air. “Don’t do that,” Elsa continues. “Now is not the time for I told you so’s.”

She blinks once when she realizes she’s just mumbled a word that isn’t actually a word and if Emma still weren’t so incredibly pissed off she’d probably laugh. She can’t laugh with Mary Margaret more or less lying on top of her.

Elsa mouths so’s again, like she’s testing it on her tongue and Ruby makes some kind of God-awful noise that might be a laugh, but just sounds like a cackle. It hurts Emma’s head. And her entire body.

She’s fairly certain she dislocated her middle finger earlier.

“Here,” Graham says, appearing out of nowhere with an actual tray in one hand and an understanding smile on his face. “You need to hydrate. Desperately.”

He sinks onto the edge of the coffee table Emma’s feet are propped up on, resting the tray on his knee and nodding towards the glasses of water, an unspoken command to take them and hydrate that Emma knows she should listen to, but absolutely does not because even the idea of consuming any sort of liquid that isn’t tequila seems like the worst idea in the history of the world.

Or maybe that was beating up her boyfriend earlier that afternoon.

Ex-boyfriend. Decidedly ex. Happily ex. Absolutely.

“I need another drink, Humbert,” Emma announces, leaning forward and that’s an even worse idea. The whole room spins with her and Mary Margaret makes some contradictory noise in the back of her throat.

Graham levels her with a knowing stare – some kind of look that seems to scream you are an adult, act like one, but Emma just huffs and sticks her tongue out and Ruby cackles again.

It’s all Neal’s fault, really. And she could do it. She absolutely could do it. She could…

“Emma,” Graham says, snapping her out of her thoughts before she can stand up and try to find Neal so she can punch him in the face again. “Stop thinking about it. It’s not going to change anything. And it’s not even a good gig.”

She growls, slinking lower into the couch until one of her legs falls off its perch on the coffee table. “It’s absolutely a good gig,” Emma argues and they’re all starting to repeat themselves again. “And I could totally do it.” “I’m not questioning that.” “No?” “No.” “Seems like it.” “I’m not.”

“Yuh huh.”

Graham scowls, grabbing a glass off the tray and pushing it into Emma’s hand until she doesn’t have any choice but to actually accept it. She’d dump water on Mary Margaret’s head otherwise.

“Ok,” Ruby announces, waving her hands through the air and barely managing to keep her balance on the seat she’d claimed as hers as soon as Emma told the story the first time. “Go over it one more time.” Emma’s not sure who makes the loudest noise – it might be her – but Ruby just glares and it’s not even midnight yet and she’s lost track of the number of drinks she’s had and she kind of feels bad for Graham because he absolutely did not agree to be everyone’s keeper that night.

“Fine,” Emma sighs. “The story, as I have told sixteen-thousand times already is that the bonds business I was working at went under unexpectedly without much notice and, now, if I want to keep this very lovely apartment we all seem intent on destroying tonight, then I need a job for the summer.” “And you decided to ask Neal about a job?” Ruby asks. Emma rolls her eyes. They’ve been over this, at least, twelve-thousand times. “Why?” “They’re dating,” Elsa says reasonably and Emma’s definitely the one who makes noise that time. “Were,” she corrects. “Were dating. That’s not a thing anymore. That is the opposite of a thing. What’s the opposite of a thing?” “I think those exact words.” Emma’s eyes are going to get stuck rolled into the back of her head. She tries not to think about that – her tequila-filled stomach can’t quite cope with that. “Anyway,” she continues, tracing absentminded patterns on Mary Margaret’s back. “He’s got that summer thing with Regina Mills’ clinic or whatever and there are rich kids to teach lacrosse to and I figured he’d be all in on us getting to spend the summer together and playing and…” And it didn’t work.

Or, well, more to the point, Neal was positive it wouldn’t work.

Emma wasn’t sure it was a particularly distinct difference, but it seemed to be the crux of the problem. She’d heard of the Mills clinic for years – teammates who’d signed up to coach during the summer and it’d be hot, but the pay was good and the kids were, probably, talented if not a little pretentious because they were spending their summer at a lacrosse clinic, but she wouldn’t have to worry about room and board and, well, she was a former All-American. She’d set records at UMass for God’s sake.

Neal didn’t seem all that impressed by it.

“It just wouldn’t work, Em,” he said, like she was supposed to accept that answer. She didn’t. She kept pushing and asking and finally he just sighed dramatically and rolled his whole head and told her what he was really thinking. “It won’t work because you’re a girl and girl’s lacrosse is...well, it’s not real lacrosse is it? There’s not even any checking. You get fouled for checking. What are you going to teach these kids, Em?”

Her memories got kind of hazy after that, just flashes of red that might have been a visible representation of the questionable heat wave they’d had in the last few days, but also might have just been her anger and Emma didn’t listen to anymore explanations before she started throwing fists and absolutely against-the-rules checks.

“So, the short version, since I’m not repeating myself anymore,” Emma says. “Is that he thinks I couldn’t work at this clinic because I am a girl and girls can’t play lacrosse and don’t know how to check, which is just...insane, right Humbert?” Graham blinks once, as if he’s surprised to be involved in the conversation, and they’re going to have to buy him a ridiculous amount of replacement tequila for dealing with all of them for most of the night.

“Of course, Em,” he promises with a smile and Emma’s suddenly thrown several years into the past with memories of meeting Graham Humbert at forced athletic icebreakers freshman year. He’d set records at UMass too – assists in a single-season their junior year and the guy’s team was awful, but it was early Division I years and Humbert never complained.

He never did anything wrong.

They asked him to coach at the clinic weeks ago.

“Plus,” Ruby adds, still wobbling slightly until Graham pushes a glass of water in her hands as well. “What Cassidy failed to realize was that you’ve got all that pent-up aggression stored from years of not being allowed to check anyone and go along with all those weird restart rules.” “You’ve been holding in your feelings about women’s lacrosse for awhile haven’t you?” Elsa asks knowingly, one eyebrow lifted and Ruby shrugs in response.

“It doesn’t make any sense. Why are the rules different? They aren’t in soccer.” Mary Margaret makes another noise – another age-old argument and none of them should really be friends. It doesn’t make any sense at all.

Emma was never sure how she stumbled into lacrosse, but for a kid who spent most of her childhood shipped around the country, a sport that allowed her to, literally, carry a stick and hit people had its appeal. Until she got to high school and learned the rules for her brand of lacrosse and it took an entire season of penalty minutes and unreleasable fouls to change her approach.

It worked out – UMass came calling the spring of her junior year and she didn’t have many other offers, certainly nothing else Division I, and it was impossible to turn down a free ride. There was a lacrosse joke in there somewhere.

And the irony that she was about to play for a team called the Minutemen when she’d spent most of her career arguing against girls rules was not lost on Emma.

It was the first thing Ruby had talked about when they, quite literally, ran into each other at another required athletic event. “This is the worst isn’t it,” Ruby grumbled and Emma nodded and, well, that was that.

They kept talking and kept bashing the ancient, vaguely patriarchal tendencies of the NCAA and Emma met Mary Margaret three weeks later. She’d grown up with Ruby in some tiny town in Maine and she was the living, breathing embodiment of all things sweet, a physical therapy major who wanted to work with athletes eventually – or so Ruby told Emma. And, for awhile, Emma believed her until she went to one of Ruby’s soccer games with Mary Margaret who seemed to lose any semblance of sweet as soon as a tackle wasn’t called and, well, that was that.

Again.

Elsa joined the fray second semester, a slightly frantic request from the student newspaper to interview Emma before the start of the season and she started by explaining that she knew nothing about lacrosse and Emma smiled and answered questions anyway and Ruby and Mary Margaret took her out for drinks when the story ran.

The four of them were some kind of collective unit from there on out – anyone needing to get in touch with all of them only having to text one of them and the message would, eventually, get passed along and they were all in the stands when Emma scored twice in the A-10 championship their senior year.

Graham drove them to the regional finals on Long Island and they were some kind of weird, five-person pretzel of limbs and tears when the Minutemen lost.

And not much had changed since graduation – even if athletic careers were some kind of distant memory now. Until Emma’s very steady, very well-paying job all but disappeared in front of her and she thought, for a moment, of past glory and championship goals and, for the first time in a very long time, she wanted to check something.

She could absolutely work at this clinic. Even with different rules.

“It’s not really going to be fun,” Graham says and Emma dimly wonders if they’re all following a conversational schedule she wasn’t aware of, because she’s fairly positive they’ve done this already as well. “It’s going to be like school all over again and working those summer camps with screaming kids.” “Except these screaming kids have really rich parents,” Elsa adds. Graham glares at her. “I’m just saying. This is a little different than kids coming for a couple of hours a day in Amherst.”

“Exactly,” Emma shouts, like that’s just proved her point. “And I don’t even really care about the kids. It’s not...well that sounds shitty, but this is not about that.” Graham lifts his eyebrows. “What is it about then?” “Screwing over Neal Cassidy.” “Fucking finally,” Ruby mumbles, but Emma’s eyes don’t leave Graham’s and his lips twist in thought. Or like he’s trying to mind-meld with her and force her to give up on whatever path of revenge she’s already halfway down.

They stay that way for what feels like several eternities until Mary Margaret makes some kind of inhuman noise, leaping away from Emma like she’s just contracted a deadly plague. “Jeez, M’s,” Emma mumbles, taking a gulp of water before she remembers that it’s water and not tequila. “What’s your deal right now?” “I’ve just had an absolutely incredible idea,” Mary Margaret shouts and the whole room collectively winces at the volume of her voice. “Plus, if I’m there to do the training stuff, then...oh, shit this could work.” Emma nearly falls over, which is impressive since she’s sitting down, but she’s never heard Mary Margaret talk like that. It’s probably the tequila. “I mean it’s insane, but...this could work. I think. ”

“You think?”

Mary Margaret nods enthusiastically. “Ok, Humbert, what time do you have to be there next week…” It is absolutely the most insane idea in the history of ideas. It’s as if Galileo and Thomas Edison and, like, someone else who invented something all got together and, collectively, decided to try and come up with the most insane idea in the history of ideas just to spite all those people who didn’t believe in them before, but Mary Margaret keeps talking and Ruby keeps pouring drinks and by the end of the night it almost makes sense.

Which is how Emma finds herself on the campus of goddamn Towson University four days later with a bag in one hand and a stick in the other, trying to keep her breathing level when she tells a slightly overwhelmed looking woman at a fold-up desk “Hi, my name is Graham Humbert, I’m one of the coaches for the clinic.”

The woman behind the desk – there’s a name on a sticker that Emma can only half read, but might be Aurora – nods distractedly, flipping through a small stack of paperwork and handing Emma a folder with a string of instructions she’s only half listening to.

“You’re with Jones and Scarlet,” she says, like those words have actual meaning. “So, uh, there’s an elevator or stairs and it’s the sixth floor and room...whatever it says on your folder. There’s keys in there, but you’ll have to go get an actual ID if you want to ever eat while you’re here. Lunch starts serving in a couple of hours and then there’s meet and greets with all the kids later on tonight.” Aurora lifts her head when Emma doesn’t immediately respond and she feels her eyes go wide when the woman actually meets her gaze.

They cut her hair – or, rather, Mary Margaret cut her hair – and it was definitely a look, but both Ruby and Elsa promised it fell somewhere in the realm of hipster, but masculine when she actually put a wig on and left that morning and it was some kind of miracle Emma could even breathe because she’d wrapped her boobs up so tight she wasn’t entirely convinced her ribs weren’t going to sustain permanent damage.

She doesn’t really look...like a guy, but she doesn’t really look like her either and, as a very drunk Mary Margaret was quick to point out, no one at this clinic was going to know what Graham Humbert actually looked like.

Except Regina Mills. Who’d hired Graham. But he promised she had no plans of being there and as long as Neal didn’t recognize her then none of it mattered.

At least that’s what Emma kept telling herself while she spent nearly eight hours in her ancient VW bug that morning.

“We all good?” she asks, doing her best to sound like a guy. It doesn’t work. At all. Her voice just sounds scratchy and fake and Aurora tilts her head in confusion. “I, uh...just want to make sure my equipment’s all set before we do anything later tonight.” Aurora quirks an eyebrow. “There are just icebreakers tonight.”

“Right, right, right, I absolutely knew that. Because you just told me that. And I read the schedule already. Several times. When I got hired to be here.” Aurora nods again and Emma’s fairly certain her ribs have started to crack. “Alright, well, I’m going to….”

She doesn’t finish, just hitches her bag further up her shoulder and practically sprints up the first flight of stairs she can find, not willing to wait for an elevator. There’s a stitch in her side by the time she reaches the fourth landing and this was a mistake.

In some kind of grand, sweeping way.

“Holy shit,” Emma breathes and she’s not out of shape. She runs down criminals. She can do the same thing with a stick in her hand and a ball in her stick and she’s suddenly so full of determination and fury that she’s almost surprised she doesn’t just levitate to her room with Jones and Scarlet, whoever they are.

It'll be fine.

Except that one thing.

It’s the one part of the plan even Mary Margaret hadn’t quite figured out.

“What happens when you have to shower?” Graham asked, tugging on the bottom of Mary Margaret’s shirt until she collapsed into a heap on their living room floor. “These are guys, Em. You can’t just...take half an hour in the shower every morning.” “Ok, first of all, that’s rude and stereotyping,” Emma argued. “And I know how to take quick showers. I probably set records at Amherst with that. All that foster home experience, you get in and get out before someone flushes the toilet or the house runs out of hot water. This is fine.” “And what about the rest of it? You’re going to have to, you know, make it look like you’re a guy.” “I’m not expecting an audience while I shower.” “I’m just saying.” “Are you not in on this? You said you were in on this. This is all so I can show up Neal and then, you know, ruin his lacrosse life or something.” “You’re a picture of maturity,” Graham sighed, but there was a hint of a smile on his face and he couldn’t argue with the combined, very drunk force of four UMass grads with a plan. “And, yeah, I’m all in on this. Of course.”

It was going to be fine.

So she has roommates. Emma’s always had roommates. Granted, they’ve always been girls and she’s never actually had to tape her boobs down just to try and stay under some kind of metaphorical radar, but this isn’t about that.

This is about fucking over Neal and it is...easily the most insane idea she’s ever had.

She’s frozen in front room 619, resting most of her weight on her stick and trying to psych herself up again when the door swings open and oh, well, fuck. God fucking fuck.

She’s going to kill Humbert. He should have told her.

He should have warned her...or something. Anything. He should have cut whatever wires in her bug made her bug capable of driving her from Boston to Baltimore because then Emma wouldn’t be standing stock still in the middle of a hallway at goddamn Towson University, breathing through her mouth while trying to will her heart rate to slow down.

The guy widens his eyes – all blue and vaguely amused and he’s got a Maryland t-shirt on. His hair’s nearly as long as Emma’s is, even after it’s been cut, and there’s a piece falling across his forehead that is just absolutely stupid because it’s obvious he’s not trying at all, just casual confidence and certainty and his ribs probably aren’t cracking.

Because he’s a guy.

He is a guy.

“Can I help you?” he asks, resting against the side of the open door frame with his arms crossed over his chest and that only serves to scrunch up the Maryland state logo emblazoned on his shirt.

Emma nods slowly, trying to force her brain to catch up to the moment at hand and the guy’s eyes flit towards the stick in her hand. “Are you the third, then?” he continues and Emma’s fairly convinced he’s just started speaking in tongues.

“I have no idea what that means,” she says and the guy just smiles even wider. His eyebrows are stupid. Emma takes a deep breath, hitting herself in the hip with her own bag when she pushes her right hand in front of her. “Humbert,” she says and it almost sounds like the truth. “Graham Humbert. UMass ‘10.” The guy doesn't blink, just keeps staring at her outstretched hand and maybe she shouldn’t have done that because she definitely doesn’t look like she’s got guy’s hands. It takes, exactly, two seconds to realize that is not the issue.

He rocks back on his heels, twisting his lower lip between his teeth – which is decidedly distracting for absolutely all the wrong reasons – and tilts his head when he holds his left arm out towards her.

Oh.

And it all clicks very suddenly.

Emma is absolutely going to kill Graham.

She can’t quite believe she didn’t recognize him – but it’s been years since that national championship run and, really, the Maryland t-shirt threw her off. “You didn’t go to Maryland,” Emma accuses and Killian Jones’ eyebrows fly up his forehead. She thinks he maybe, almost, smiles at her too, but his left arm is still hanging in the space between them and, well, there isn’t a hand to shake there.

It wasn’t national news – no one cares about lacrosse that much – but she’d heard the story and Graham thought it was tragic and Emma thought it was absolutely fucking unfair because Killian Jones had been good, great, fantastic, some kind of faceoff specialist that they’d probably put in a hall of fame if lacrosse was a sport people actually cared about.

He won something like ninety percent at the ‘x’ when he was a senior and no one had really even heard of Monmouth before, but suddenly they were getting votes in national polls and winning games and Killian Jones kept getting the ball to his attackers and they kept scoring goals and, suddenly, they were beating Hopkins in the national championship game.

He won nearly every postseason award possible and he couldn’t actually go to the Tewaaraton ceremony because he’d been too busy playing in a national final and it was some kind of impossible run that even Sports Illustrated acknowledged once. And then it was tragic and fucking unfair and it wasn’t like he could do much more than coach after he graduated, but he was going to, or so the rumors suggested, until there’d been an accident and it was impossible to win a faceoff with one hand.

“That’s true,” Killian says, eyeing her cautiously and they were both still frozen in the doorway. “But I’ve been doing ops at Maryland for a season and a half now, so, you know, they give you free stuff.” “Is that not an NCAA violation?” “I’m not an actual student-athlete anymore.” Emma hums – a mistake because she sounds so much like her, she’s positive Killian can see through her clothes or something. Thinking that is also a mistake. There’s more talking from inside the room and another set of footsteps and Emma’s eyes dart for an escape route. There isn’t one.

“Is this the third, then?” another guy asks, pushing Killian out of the way and leaning towards Emma with an expectant look on his face.

Killian nods, eyes still tracing over Emma and she tries to stand up taller. She hits herself with her bag again. “Yeah,” Killian answers. “Humbert comma Graham. UMass class of 2010, apparently.” “UMass has lacrosse?”

“We’ve had lacrosse for nearly a decade,” Emma snaps. Killian grins. “It was just...shitty when they...I mean, I...when I started playing. But the women’s side won the A-10 just a couple seasons after we moved up.” “Impressive,” other guy mumbles in a way that makes it sound the exact opposite. Emma glares at him and she can’t start beating up her roommates before they even get to icebreakers.

Killian smiles wider. “Alright, alright,” he says, licking his lips and elbowing other guy in the ribs. That almost puts them all on even footing. “Humbert, class of 2010, this is Scarlet, comma Will, class of absolute asshole and a former goalie at Monmouth.” “And you were making fun of my program,” Emma seethes, well aware that she doesn’t have a leg or a stick to stand on. They won a national championship. “What kind of competition you dealing with in the MAAC?” Scarlet almost looks impressed. “Probably not quite as good as whatever Division II you started out as.” “God,” Killian sighs, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling and pushing Will back into the room. “Shut up, Scarlet. Although I really don’t think you can start trash talking this early, Humbert,” he adds. “There’s rules about trashing-talking form.” “Are there?” Emma asks and Killian grins, lower lip stuck out slightly when he nods. “Absolutely. Although I’m not entirely sure what form goes along with further introductions since you seem to know where I went to school already and, based on your staring issue, I’d say the rest of my very public history, so, uh...if you’re good, then we’re going to get some food.” He doesn’t wait for her to answer, just nods toward Scarlet who makes sure to glare at Emma when he walks by, leading with his shoulder and fucking hell this is a disaster. “See you on the field later, Humbert,” Killian calls over his shoulder when there a few feet away and Emma throws her bag into the room as soon as she hears his footsteps retreat.

She doesn’t leave the room until her stomach actually starts making noises that don’t quite sound human anymore, but downing dining hall food like she’s being timed doesn’t do much to help the state of her ribs and by the time she gets to icebreakers, she’s treading some very thin metaphorical ice.

“This is a goddamn disaster,” Emma hisses, leaning against the railing behind the end zone of the football stadium they were staging some sort of get to know you event on. Mary Margaret shoots her a look, one she should probably have patented by now and Emma tries not to sigh too loudly. “It is,” she continues. “I should just...I don’t know, just go or something before this dissolves into a criminal offense.” “You can’t get charged with anything when you have Graham’s permission,” Mary Margaret argues. “At least, I don’t think so. And, you know, you guys are splitting all these work checks, so it’s totally legit. Absolutely. For sure.” “You really shouldn’t have kept talking M’s.” Mary Margaret just levels her with that look again and Emma’s not really paying attention to any of the kids or the clinic or whatever it is Neal is doing with a group of guys who he seems to already be well acquainted with. “And,” Mary Margaret continues. “There is a plan. It’s a good plan. It’s not like Neal ever met Graham. He has no idea who you are. You really don’t even look like you right now.” “You’re only saying that because you're the one who cut my hair,” Emma reasons, but Mary Margaret just waves a dismissive hand in her face.

“I’m not. I’m saying that because you can do this and because…”

She trails off, eyes darting up when someone walks towards them and Emma tries not to shake her. Instead, she follows Mary Margaret’s gaze and barely has a moment to turn her groan into any other noise before she’s standing face to face with another guy and another outstretched hand.

“Hey,” he says brightly, an easy smile on his face and a t-shirt with a comically large orange on the front. He doesn’t seem to even notice Emma. “You uh….they’re starting some game about first names and I figured, well, since you’ve got two, you might get bonus points or something…”

Emma snorts, biting back hysterics and Mary Margaret stares imploringly at her. An absolute disaster. “Hi,” Emma says, taking the outstretched hand and she’s given up on trying to do any voice that isn’t hers. “I’m Graham Humbert. UMass. M’s and I went to school together.” “David,” he answers. “Nolan. ‘Cuse longstick.” “Yeah, I wouldn’t have been able to guess that at all.” “Em…” Mary Margaret shouts, eyes going wide when she realizes what she’d almost done. David looks momentarily confused, but then his gaze flits back to Mary Margaret and it’s like he’s rediscovered his center of gravity and Emma wonders what kind of science she’d need to just melt into a puddle on the Towson football field.

“Ah, well,” David says, stuffing his hands back in his pockets when he pulls away from Emma. “They told us to support our teams when we got here, which doesn’t really go along with the community feeling they’re telling us we’re building tonight, but whatever. Pays good, right?” Emma hums noncommittally in the back of her throat, rolling her shoulders in her UMass gear. “Longstick, huh? Middie or defenseman?” “Defensive middie.” “Best of both worlds.” “Something like that.”

Mary Margaret looks torn between several different emotions, but Emma finds herself almost liking David Nolan, defensive middie, and she’s got half an idea of what’s going on here. The other half of her mind, however, seems preoccupied with the voices calling from midfield and cheers from the crowd of kids with rich parents who can afford to spend their whole summer at a lacrosse clinic.

And it’s like the world slows down for a moment because Emma knows who’s running towards her before he even skids to a stop in front of them and she can just barely make out David’s mumbled is everything ok when Neal lands in front of her and Mary Margaret.

He blinks once and Emma can’t breathe – her lungs are on fire and her ribs are just disintegrating, she’s positive. “Oh,” Neal says, perking up when he notices Mary Margaret. “Hey Blanchard. Long time no see.” Mary Margaret visibly bristles, narrowing her eyes and Neal is just as ignorant as always and Emma is glad Ruby isn’t there because she absolutely could not deal with another told you so moment. “Neal,” Mary Margaret says softly. “It, uh….well, you’re here, aren’t you? Have you met David Nolan? ‘Cuse. And, uh…” She glances towards Emma, a million questions on her face and Emma shrugs in response. “This is, uh...Graham Humbert. Played at UMass when we were there.”

Neal’s eyebrows shift, but he doesn’t seem to realize anything and Emma wonders how long she can go without oxygen finding its way to her brain. Probably not much longer. She takes a deep breath, shoulders heaving and poor David Nolan looks decidedly out of place. “Nice to finally meet you,” she says, thrusting her hand out into the open space in front of her. “I’ve heard some stuff.” “Good stuff I hope,” Neal grins and Emma makes a contradictory noise in the back of her throat. Mary Margaret tries not to laugh.

“Stuff,” Emma repeats.

Neal’s lips quirk down and Emma tugs her hand back to her side, glancing up when she can hear Killian Jones yelling about teams and rules and playing to ten, but win by two and oh fuck. They’re going to play.

Game on or whatever.

“Right, right,” Neal mumbles. “Well, uh, some of the kids are going to play a little bit and I think that Jones guy is going to make sure we don’t all kill each other, so, uh...I was just coming to see if you guys wanted to suit up.” David wavers for half a moment, glancing at Mary Margaret like he was hoping for a few moments – or possibly an entire lifetime – alone, but Emma’s already nodding. “Yeah,” she says, staring at Neal. “You going to play?”

“That’s why I came over here.” “Good.” Neal looks at her for half a beat and that one corner of Emma’s mind that is still certain this is a goddamn disaster is positive he knows , but then he blinks and the look is gone and she’s far too competitive to care one way or another.

They’re already handing out sticks by the time Emma, David and Neal rejoin the crowd and Killian looks momentarily amused when his eyes land on her. “Ah, Humbert comma Graham,” he says. “I thought you’d disappeared.” Emma’s going to check him. In the head. “I’ve been around,” she answers evasively and the smile on Killian’s face evolves into a smirk that is both the single most obnoxious and attractive thing she’s ever seen. “You going to give me a stick or you just going to stare all night?”

It’s petty and a little immature, but it gets the smirk off his face and Killian nods before pushing a worse-for-wear stick against Emma’s chest. “Try not stun anyone with your Division I talent, Humbert,” he growls and Emma grimaces in response.

“Watch me,” she mutters.

Someone gives Killian a whistle and there are more rules Emma absolutely doesn’t listen to because she’s got a stick in her hand and a ball in her stick and she’s not sure if she’s trying to show off for everyone else or a bit for herself, but she spins away from a defender and lets out some kind of whoop when the ball lands in the back corner of the net.

It took thirty-seven and a half seconds.

“Holy shit,” Will grumbles, leaning behind him to fish the ball out of the net. “That was a rocket, Humbert.” Emma shrugs and Neal is standing slackjawed a few feet out of the crease. “You said you went to UMass,” he says and it sounds like the accusation it absolutely is. Emma nods. “Did you...you know my girlfriend then?”

She can hear herself breathing, which is the only proof that she still is, but it’s loud and just a bit haggard and Emma’s whole body stiffens at the present tense of that particular question. Neal waits for an answer and Will coughs awkwardly there isn’t one.

Emma’s dimly aware of David a few feet away from here and Killian blows that stupid whistle again, shouting about faceoffs and staying on track and Emma licks her lips before lining up again, a ringing in her ears she’s not sure will ever disappear.

It doesn’t. And the game sort of...falls apart after that.

She doesn’t score again, probably accounts for what feels like four-hundred turnovers and picking up a groundball is, suddenly, the most difficult thing in the world. She gets whistled for a slash, whipping her stick across the back of Neal’s calves and it’s the product of frustration and disappointment and athletic-based anger. It leaves Neal yelling about fucking intent to harm and Mary Margaret actually gasps when she sees the bruise already forming and Killian drags Emma off the field, fingers wrapped around her wrist and words mumbled under his breath.

“Alright, alright, alright,” Emma yells, yanking her arm back to her side when they’re on the sidewalk outside the stadium. She elbows herself in the process.

He doesn’t stop moving, pacing a small semi circle until he’s turned back towards her and Emma can practically feel the heat radiating off him. She’s an absolutely disgusting mess – sweat pooling at the base of her spine and dripping down her temple and underneath whatever contraption is still crushing her ribs and maybe she can just stay in Mary Margaret’s room for the night.

That won’t help anything.

“Are you insane?” Killian barks, glowering at her as if she’s just drawn an unreleasable with two minutes left in the national championship game.

Emma meets his expression with one of her own, landing back in the realm of pissed the fuck off rather quickly. She’s never quite done well with authority – or assholes telling her what she can and can’t do on the field. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she mutters and maybe she should just stay angry all time because her voice doesn’t really sound like hers anymore.

Killian takes a deep breath, tugging the oxygen in through his nose and his shoulders move with the force of it. He twists his lip in between his teeth again, running a frustrated hand through his hair, unable, it seems, to stop moving or staring at Emma like she’s arrived solely to ruin the integrity of lacrosse.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he says after what feels like several lifetimes, but his voice has lost that threatening edge it had a few moments before. “That’s…do you know Cassidy?”

That’s not the question she expects.

She’s not sure what she expects, but a week ago she would have been positive that breaking into a lacrosse clinic pretending to be one of her best friends was the absolute last thing she ever expected, so, all things considered…

Killian just waits for a response, breathing evening out and someone else is blowing a whistle inside the football stadium. “Yeah,” Emma mumbles. “I, uh, do or did…” She shakes her head, trying to will away any sort of misplaced emotion, determined to linger in angry as long as possible. “He...dated one of my friends?” “Was that a question?” “No, no, I mean he did, but he’s a colossal dick so…” “So you were what, exactly?” Killian asks. “Defending your friend’s honor by being a complete fucking idiot on the field?” Emma rolls her eyes, frustration shooting through all of her limbs and lingering at the base of her spine with the sweat. It’s a disgusting thought. “No,” she snaps. “Well, I don’t know...why do you care? It’s not like you’re some pillar of lacrosse purity here.” She has no idea what makes her say it – probably something about that anger and stubbornness to prove herself born out of a lifetime’s worth of not being enough and Killian takes a step away from her as soon as the words land between them. “True,” he says slowly, fingers tapping lightly on the brace at the end of his left arm. “But...well Cassidy might not be the best guy to try and go up against here.” “What?” “How much did your friend tell you about Neal Cassidy, former starter at UNC?”

“Plenty.” “Yeah?” Emma nods, but she can feel her certainty slipping through her grasp and she’s not sure she can find the right word to describe the look on Killian’s face. He takes another step towards her. “Cassidy is here because of his name and his father’s ability to make things very difficult for Regina and her company if he didn’t have a paying gig all summer. You think she wanted him here? She knows his family, apparently knows his dad and, boom, just like that lil’ Cassidy isn’t working for the family business anymore, he’s got a job all lined up teaching kids how to destroy kneecaps with a one-handed shot outside the crease.”

Emma never really knows how she managed to stay standing, but her own kneecaps seem to take Killian’s words as some kind of challenge and she doesn’t move when he grins at her. “I don’t...Gold knows Regina?” Killian hums, but there’s a flash of confusion in his eyes. He didn’t expect her to know names. “I didn’t….I didn’t know that.” “Why would you?” She shakes her head, dragging in a ragged breath and silently promises herself never to make another decision fueled on tequila and Mary Margaret’s optimism ever again. “No reason,” she mumbles. “And did you say something about kneecaps?”

“I did.” “And?” “And what? I thought you knew all about me.” Emma groans, rolling her head back and that’s a mistake because her fucking hair nearly falls off. “I know generic facts that the entire lacrosse world knows,” she argues. “It’s not as if I’m secretly stalking your life.” He does something stupid with his eyebrows, sinking onto the edge of a flower arrangement outside the stadium. Emma doesn’t move. “I grew up with Cassidy,” Killian mutters and Emma’s not sure how much more surprise her body can withstand. “At least kind of. He lived down the block from my mom’s house in a much larger house and played travel ball and club ball and sneered at the idea of high school teams and he went to UNC and I went to a school in fucking New Jersey and when we played against each other in that regional final, he played like he was possessed. Started slashing everything he could.

I think he set some kind of record, but it didn’t work and he kept ending up in the box and we were winning. Until he checked me, straight across the back, no whistle and I lost the ball. He scooped, stayed onsides and didn’t even try to score. He shot at Scarlet’s kneecaps, took him out of the game. Nearly fucked up the whole thing and I don’t think that backup goalie ever really recovered. He’s an ass. Cassidy. Not the backup goalie. He’s got three kids and lives in Tacoma with his very nice wife who bakes things.” “She bakes things?” Emma echoes and Killian’s eyes shoot up towards her, disbelief etched into every single inch of his face.

“Yeah. Cookies. Cupcakes. Apparently an absolutely delicious carrot cake that she brags about in all of her Christmas newsletters.” Emma barks out a laugh and for half a second she forgets everything else except the slightly cautious smile on Killian’s face and her mind roams to completely impossible ideas and it’s as if the entire world flips upside down.

She can’t believe she didn’t realize. Well, no, she can, but she’s kind of mad at herself that she clearly isn’t capable of doing basic math, but she’s always heard that regional final loss differently and she never paid much attention to Neal when he started talking lacrosse.

He always seemed to want to talk about his stat line.

That probably should have been a sign.

God, Ruby’s never going to let her live any of this down.

“Christmas newsletters sounds very adult,” Emma mumbles, rocking awkwardly on her heels when she realizes she’s still standing up. Killian nods towards the seat next to him and she tries to keep, at least, six inches of space between them.

“It does, doesn’t it?” “Carrot cake sounds fucking awful though.” It’s his turn to laugh at that and Emma’s mind has some kind of mind of its own, picturing things and this is now an even worse idea than the worst idea in the history of the world. “It’s not bad with the icing,” Killian muses. “How...how long did you friend date Cassidy?” “Nearly a year. Her friends, well….they...we hated him. Knew he was kind of a dick and self-important and I mean, you know, he played at UNC. What even is a Tar Heel?” “I have no idea.” “Exactly. And then he was always kind of Glory Days’ing things and harping on how great UNC was and just the entire ACC which is, you know, whatever….lacrosse is a countrywide sport now.”

Killian laughs. “I went to Monmouth, you don’t need to tell me about the growing popularity of lacrosse. Although that Denver national championship helped things. UAlbany too. Give a couple of kids a stick and tell them they can hit each other and they’ll come flying in.” “Is that part of your recruit pitch at Maryland?” “Almost verbatim,” he grins. “Although we barely made it out of the Big 10 this year, so I’m not sure I’m doing much in the way of actually accomplishing anything. Need a faceoff kid.” Emma tenses slightly, licking her lips and she’s not sure what to say next. “That’s not easy though,” she mutters. Nailed it, Swan. Absolutely dominated. “And I’d imagine your requirements are fairly high.” “At this point my requirements are trying to find a kid who can win it clean without getting a violation and we have to play man down.” “Ah, well, maybe you can find someone here. Change someone’s life or something.”

“Why do you think I’m here?” he asks, glancing at her over his shoulder and Emma pushes her palms flat against the stone she’s sitting on until she’s almost positive she’s cut up her hand. “Plus the money. And to get Scarlet to shut up.” “Does he need to be shut up?” Killian doesn’t answer at first and Emma wonders if she’s overstepped some imaginary boundary, but she sees his shoulders move when he takes another deep breath and he doesn’t blink when he looks at her. “He got the invite since, technically, he can still play, your goal notwithstanding. And he got me in because he knew I’d have some time during the summer before workouts start and he figured it’d be good for me. Bring me back to my humble beginnings or something after the shit season we had.” “Humble?” Emma asks. “How so?” “I never would have been able to afford any of these things when I was a kid,” Killian says, rushing over the words. He’s still looking at her. “I, uh….my brother did his best to help, but he was older and there were only so many ways to play lacrosse by yourself. So I kept working and shooting against the side of the house until I’d broken just about every window and there was a scholarship to one of these prestigious clinics the summer before my senior year. I went and played and that’s where I got offered. It was the only team that even looked my direction.”

“Yeah, me too,” Emma mutters before she realizes what she’s said. Killian looks as if he’s going to fall on the sidewalk. “Uh, I mean...well I kind of bounced around when I was a kid and I played because I could and it was an outlet in a very stereotypical way, but I didn’t think I could do anything with it until UMass showed up. Winning the A-10 was some kind of dream.” She smiles and forgets, for a moment, that she’s not Emma Swan, All-American and that’s her first mistake. Killian narrows his eyes and Emma’s breath hitches, ribs aching and lungs shrinking, or something absolutely impossible, and he twists his lips when he stares at her.

“Right,” he says slowly, standing up and nodding towards the discarded sticks behind them. “You should bring those back to equipment. Don’t go after Cassidy again. He’ll destroy you where you stand.” Emma doesn’t say anything, barely even has a chance to register the words before Killian’s turning away, fingers wrapped around his left forearm and this is the worst thing she’s ever done.

You can read Part Two (the one with the kissing!) here.

#cs ff #captain swan #cs #captain swan ff #cs fic #ouat fandom crescendo #i've covered a lot of lacrosse in my life #and there is a video out there on the internet of me learning how to shoot #from a kid who is literally one of the top goal scorers in ncaa history #and it's straight up just him shooting and me screaming and running away from the goal #so i'm a real professional #some other guys on that team taught me how to check one time too #that was a fun team

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swanderful1 · 6 years

Text

Duplicity: Ch 3/?

Summary: Secrets shroud the homes of the idyllic Willow Lane. Its newest resident, Emma Swan is no exception. In a place where perception is everything, the facade begins to crack. And Emma finds herself staring down the deep, dark secrets that the neighborhood was built on and that nothing is as it seems. Not even the blue eyed gardener.

Notes: Hiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!! Back with another update, here’s chapter 3! Hope you like it! Also special shoutout to @resident-of-storybrooke for being my beta and @shady-swan-jones for the artwork!!!!!!!

Word Count: ~6300

Disclaimer: All rights to OUAT, I own nothing.

The rest can be found on AO3 and ffnet

Two days after Killian had first met with Emma Swan about her backyard he began his first phase of work there. It was early Wednesday, the sun was quite literally still rising, when he pulled his truck in front of the house. Another email from Neal Gold had given Killian a specific timeline of when he wanted to work to be done, and it really was not long at all.

Some sort of party was being thrown at the house in the end of May, giving him just under two months to frame the structure with the appropriate landscaping. For any other house, it would be a simple task. But it was during the height of his busiest season and the yard was quite large. So there was a good chance it may not get done in time.

That and he also had other motives for being there.

He unloaded his truck, slipping on his work gloves so no one would see the prosthetic that replaced his left hand. Killian felt himself being extra quiet as he unpacked, hoping that he wouldn’t wake Emma and her resting husband. But just as Killian was heading to the backyard he noticed Neal Gold exiting the house, it was rather early to be headed to the office, he thought.

“Morning,” Neal said, giving Killian a half-assed wave from the driveway.

“Morning,” he said back. The man, dressed in a suit that probably cost more than Killian made in a month, got into his Range Rover and drove off.

As Neal drove out of sight Killian couldn’t help but envy him a bit. Here he was, living in this massive house. Driving an expensive car. Set to be the heir of the largest construction company in the north east just because he was born. Sleeping in bed each night with a beautiful woman.

And, to Killian at least, it did not appear as though the man appreciated any of it. He certainly had not missed the way in which Emma regarded Neal’s management of the project the other day. As much as he knew it was none of his business what she thought of Neal, he still found himself wondering.

He shook off his jealousy, it was entirely uncharacteristic of him to envy the kind of life he had seen so much of in his years in the business. It irked him that, for once, he was picturing being the person in the house. But, it did him no good to pout. Killian didn’t have the luxury of an inheritance nor a wealthy family.

“Good morning,” said a voice from behind. Killian jumped, not expecting anyone to be awake this early. He spun and saw that Emma Swan was standing on the empty back porch, holding a white mug of what he could only assume was coffee. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Hi there,” he said with a smile. “It’s quite alright, I just didn’t think anyone would be awake this early.”

Killian softened a bit, setting his handful of tools down. Despite the early hour, her face was wide awake. Her green eyes bright and her hair tied back off of her face. As she stepped down off of the porch and walked toward him, he tried not to get distracted by the way her clothes clung to her curves and instead focused on what he still needed to get from his truck.

“I’m a morning person,” she said, pulling the mug to her lips with both hands. The rising sun caught the light of the diamond ring on her finger, serving as an ever present reminder that she was completely untouchable. For so many reasons. “I was just about to go for a run. Did you need any help with anything before I go?”

He looked at her quizzically and determined that she wasn’t just offering to offer, she genuinely wanted to help. She was quite different than any of the women he had worked for in the past and he was starting to regret the shallow assumptions he had made about her at first glance. It was a force of habit, and people rarely surprised him in a good way.

“No thank you, love, I’ve got it covered,” he replied.

“Alright,” she said, gulping down the rest of her coffee until it was empty. Killian felt his eyes widen at how quickly she had drained the mug. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

With that she took off, headed toward the front street where he heard her chatting with someone else. Another woman it sounded like, and then soon their voices drifted away. With no more distractions he set to work.

Living in Maine meant warm summers and cold winters. This also meant that Killian did his best to select plants that could grow back after cooler temperatures, so that it wasn’t like starting from the bottom each spring when the weather shifted.

In order to fulfill her wish of a natural looking landscape, Killian would have to get creative.

He had drawn on his sketch pad the layout of the yard. He had accounted for the essentials, factored in the property line. Since the entire back was a plot of dirt plus an empty pool, he had no trouble using a can of orange spray paint to outline where he would be putting things.

When Liam was alive, he had been able to talk to people. Quite easily, which was why everyone was so quick to hire him to work on their yards. Killian well, not so much. He could be charming when he wanted to be, especially with women, but he rarely wanted to be when it came to work. Especially when it was something he could lean on his brother for. Killian knew his strengths. He was the worker, the muscle, the perfectionist. And despite only having one hand, he executed things precisely. So well that none of the people who had hired him in the past fifteen years had a clue he was missing his left hand.

Killian was just about done with the front yard when he heard the chatter of voices behind him.

“Thanks for the run, Emma,” said one woman. Whom he could assume to be Mary Margaret, Ruby’s friend who lived across the street.

“Sure,” replied Emma, her breath ragged presumably from the run. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah! Sounds good!” he heard her say back, before the sound of footsteps carried Mary Margaret away. And then his ears listened for the sound of Emma coming closer.

“Can I get you some water or anything?” she said when she was about halfway up the steps to the front door. He looked up at her from his work on the lawn and noted that she was covered in sweat like she had been the other day when he came to meet her. Killian wondered if she would get into the habit of leaving him alone at her house to go for runs.

“That’s alright, I have some in the truck, and I’m just about done here.”

“Are you sure?” she pressed. “It’s pretty warm out, I for one am parched.”

“That’s because you’ve been running and I’ve been walking in circles,” he joked.

“What’s the spray paint for?”

“It’s to outline where everything is going to go once the sprinkler system is in.”

“Do you mind taking me on a tour?”

“Sure.” He smiled, and she stepped off the porch. Close up, she was about a head shorter than him, and was thinly built but muscular. Her breath was still ragged but somehow it all worked in her favor.

The backyard wasn’t much at this stage of things, so he found it hard to describe to Emma what everything would come together to look like. He felt himself more than a few times at a loss for words. But if she noticed she didn’t say anything, just followed him around and politely waited for him to talk.

“I know I said I didn’t want too many flowers…” she said after walking around the perimeter of the space. “But there was one thing I was wondering if there would be room for.”

“What’s that?” he said turning his head toward her.

“The rose bushes I saw at the mayor’s house the other day, you did those right?”

“Aye.” Killian nodded. The blasted things had given him migraine after migraine. To make sure they were to Cora Mills liking was a particular challenge that more than tested his patience.

“Well, it might not be so bad to have some of those here… maybe tucked away where the gazebo is going to be?”

As much as he hated putting them in and maintaining them across the street, when he looked at Emma’s expectant face, he couldn’t do anything but smile and nod.

“Absolutely,” he said. “Whatever you want.”

“I just thought that they were nice to look at…” she paused as if deciding whether or not to add the next part of her statement. “I wouldn’t mind being able to have fresh roses in the house every once in a while.”

“Then that’s what you shall have,” he said, making note of the change in his sketch. “I’ll be in another neighborhood the rest of the week but I can bring by some floral samples from the greenhouse this weekend.”

“Yeah, that’d be good,” she smiled at him and shifted on her feet.

“I’ll be doing some work next door for Granny Lucas on Saturday morning, I can come by then if you’ll be home?”

She doesn’t need your whole bloody schedule, Killian corrected himself.

“I’ll be around,” she said looking up at him. For a second their eyes lingered, before she broke the stare to walk toward the house. His eyes followed her as she walked up the steps, a confident stroll. Her hips swaying in a way they hadn’t before, he was sure of that.

Killian had a feeling. A brief one, that just barely tugged on his conscious mind. Something that felt like he wanted to give Emma Swan whatever it was that she wanted.

On Friday night Killian plopped himself down on his usual stool at The Rose and the Thorn. After a long week of work he felt he had earned a cold drink. Robin poured him two fingers of rum on the rocks and Killian tossed it back immediately.

“Easy there, champ,” said his best friend.

Killian rolled his eyes, ordering a beer. He wasn’t planning on getting obliterated tonight as he normally did on the weekends. He had a full day tomorrow, part of his itinerary included a visit with Emma Swan. And while there was absolutely no concrete reason why he would need to be on his best behavior around her, he felt himself wanting to be anyway.

“A beer?” Ruby said entering the bar. Bringing over a crate of clean glasses to stack. On weekends she tended bar with Robin to make extra money. With her grandmother getting older, eventually all responsibility would fall onto Ruby financially. She had lost her parents at a young age as well, luckily for her, Granny had been around to raise her.

“Taking it slow tonight, Red,” he said back, sipping on the frothy liquid.

“Any particular reason?” she poked.

“A lot of work tomorrow. So I’m trying to make a good decision,” Killian said snarkily. Now it was Robin who rolled his eyes.

“I hear one of those tasks is making a special house call to bring rose samples over to my new neighbor,” Ruby said leaning across the bar. Her elbows resting on the surface. She was looking at him funny, like she could see right through him.

“It is.”

“Who’s your new neighbor?” Robin chimed in.

“Gold’s son… well and his wife,” said Ruby still looking at Killian critically.

“He has a son?” Robin asked.

“Yes, he’s just about our age,” Ruby commented. “And his wife is….”

“She’s nice,” Killian cut her off, taking another sip. He did not want to get into it with these two.

“Oh I’m sure she’s very nice to you,” Robin smirked.

“Her husband is about to inherit one of the biggest construction businesses in the north east. Forgive me for wanting to stay on the good side of that family.”

Even as the irritated words came out of his mouth, the irony in them was not lost.

“It also doesn’t hurt that she’s gorgeous,” Ruby said backing up to resume her glass stacking.

“Ah the trophy wife type, very nice,” joked Robin as he mixed drinks for a few young men at the end of the bar.

“No.” Killian had immediately said, but realizing how suspicious that sounded he tried to back track. But somehow seemed to make this conversation worse. “She’s uh, very much so her own person.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Killian Jones?” Ruby asked incredulous to his response.

“Go easy on him, Red, maybe this is a sign he’s finally growing up,” said Robin.

“I just think she’s lonely, alright?” Killian said.

It wasn’t a lie. But he began to think that the reason he was drawn to her was because of the reflection of that loneliness he saw in himself.

“I won’t disagree there, moving to Storybrooke was clearly not within her control,” Ruby interjected. Finally. “Mary Margaret and I spent some time with her this week. Otherwise she would be all by herself in that big house all day. Her husband barely comes home.”

“Sounds like the picture of idealism,” Robin remarked. It was no secret that the three of them hated the suburbs.

“Besides, I don’t think the mayor likes her very much,” Ruby continued. Out of the corner of Killian’s eye he caught Robin’s hand freeze just the slightest at the mention of Regina Mills.

“What makes you say that?” Killian wondered.

“We all know she’s not exactly a girl’s girl….” Ruby alluded to the fact that as each one of the women moved to the street Regina had essentially frozen them out. Again Robin fumbled with the glass.

Killian remained quiet, knowing that Ruby was unintentionally treading on thin ice with this conversation. Between Killian and Robin there were two secrets that only the other knew. For him it was Milah, Robin had known at the time what kind of trouble she was in before she died. For Robin though, it was the mayor. The mayor who was now engaged to the chief of police.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” Ruby asked Killian, not noticing how Robin was just about to squirm.

“Eh… probably this, why?”

“Mary Margaret asked me and Granny over for dinner but Granny can’t come because of her book club.”

“Who is going to be there?” he asked, his eyebrow shooting up.

“Well obviously Mary Margaret and David, then you and I… Neal Gold and Emma…”

“I suppose I could escort you.” It wasn’t the first time Killian had filled in as Ruby’s plus one to an event and it probably wouldn’t be the last. “What time?”

“Around 7ish? Will you be done with work by then?”

“Yeah, Red, I’ll be done by then.”

Luckily a group of people walked into the bar in search of drinks which pulled Ruby’s attention elsewhere. He would have to sit at a dinner table with Emma Swan and her husband. Should be interesting.

Among the group of people infiltrating the bar were a few women, one of whom was eyeing Killian. She was pretty, dark chocolate colored hair and romantic eyes. She was precisely his type.

He smiled politely at her before returning his attention to the half consumed beer and in front of him. On any other night he would have sent a drink her way, used it as an opening for a conversation. But he felt himself retreat and instead continue to nurse the drink in front of him, twisting the base of the glass on the black bar napkin.

It was a while before Robin came back over, the bar was full of people. It was a Friday night after all. The sound of chatter drowned out the music that played over the ancient speakers. Killian’s one beer was almost entirely gone now as his friend set down a tumbler of amber liquid, ice clinking against its sides.

“This is from the lady at the end of the bar,” Robin said. His head shifted toward the woman who had smiled at Killian earlier. He nodded in her direction before sipping down the strong liquid, ordering two more and sauntering over to her.

For as long as Milah had been gone, he had never had an issue with seeking out a random stranger in a bar and taking her to bed with him. Killian had done it time and time again in the five years she had been dead. Not once did he ever second guess the choice to cozy up to someone else also looking for company.

“I’m not a fan of being indebted to people,” he said, handing her the drink. She smiled at him a tint of red hitting her cheeks.

“I don’t usually do that…” she said, sipping the drink, her red lips wrapping around the straw. “But you just looked so lonely sitting there I had to.”

“Ah, I see, so it was a pity drink?” he toyed, his eyebrow raising at her.

“Not entirely.”

Her body leaned toward his in the crowded space. The smoke in the air filling his nose. Killian could be charming when he wanted to be.

But by his third round of drinks with the pretty brunette his mind wandered elsewhere. The deep fissures of his brain opening to reveal that his most pressing thought was that, if he was awake early enough, he would have more time to spend discussing roses with Emma Swan.

And for whatever reason, that seemed to be the most appealing task in the world.

Emma’s first week in Storybrooke had been relatively pleasant given the circumstances. Her situation that she was trying desperately to make the best of, was playing out well. It was early Saturday morning when she heard the sound of an old truck pulling up in front of her house. Since the day was nice, Neal and his father had already left to play a round of golf with the mayor’s fiance, Graham. It was interesting to Emma how all of these major roles in the town were filled by people who essentially lived on one street.

When Neal kissed her goodbye she was still in bed, tucked among the white linens.

“I’ll be back in the evening, Em,” Neal said as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be at the country club if you need me.”

“Don’t forget we have dinner at the Nolan’s tonight.”

“We do?”

“Yes. I told you last night before bed.” A hint of irritation lingered in her tone. You probably weren’t listening, she wanted to add but didn’t. If she picked a fight each time something she said went in one ear and out the other she would never stop screaming.

As much as Emma was beginning to feel like she was perpetually being abandoned by Neal she didn’t want to start an argument first thing in the morning. She swallowed her comment and made a mental note to call him later to remind him of their dinner with the new neighbors. God forbid the Nolans weren’t the mayor or the chief of police or the superintendent of the schools or anything that could in some way self-serve Neal and his father. Emma glanced at the clock. It was already 8 am, so she instead focused on the fact that Killian would be here to pick out the roses for the backyard.

The day was a comfortable temperature, the blue sky above setting the tone for a nice morning. Emma’s back porch was still bare, except for a stack of collapsed boxes from the move. She could hear the faint sound of birds and cars driving past. The sound of children running around because it was the weekend and no one had school. A crew of three men were working in her backyard to get the sprinkler system installed by Monday before the grass would go in. Two cups of coffee were steaming in white mugs next to Emma and the gardener. She was on her second cup, he had barely touched his.

“Now these are heritage roses, they’re relatively sturdy and don’t require a ton of upkeep,” said Killian as they sat on her back porch comparing the several blooms he had brought over. “Baronne Prevost.”

“They’re what?” she said looking from the pink flower in her hand to him. She was clearly his first stop of the day, as his shirt was white and unstained. His gloves were clean. His pants were pressed. For a second her gaze lingered on his blue eyes. “I thought roses were just roses.”

“That’s the name of the type of rose, love,” he said kindly. If he noticed her eyes ogling him a bit, he remained unreadable.“They would grow on a bush about 5 x 5 in height and width.”

“They’re beautiful,” Emma said focusing again on the flower. Attempting to shift her wandering mind.

“Aye, they are,” he said coolly. “I would imagine they would look rather nice on a kitchen table.”

“Huh?” she said.

“You had said the other day that you thought it would be nice to have fresh roses in the house… these will be ideal for that. They bloom several times per season.”

Emma looked up at him again, knowing that it was his job to remember what she said she wanted, but still grateful that small tidbit stuck enough in his head. She felt her skin flush a bit, probably similar in color to the pink rose in her hand.

“Would you like to see some others then?” he asked.

“No, no I think these will be perfect.”

“Well that was easy,” he said, removing his right glove to write something down in his notepad he always carried with him. And maybe it was from not being able to see his left hand, or her current preoccupation with other people’s lives, but she found herself wondering if there was a wedding band on his left hand.

“I like to think I’m decisive,” she replied.

He had to be married. Or at the very least have some sort of serious partner. He had to, he was gorgeous.

“That’s a nice quality in a client.”

“Yeah, because it makes your job easier.”

“That may be true,” he said with a smirk. But neither of them stood up. A tension lingered in the air as neither said anything else for a few seconds.

“Emma!” called a voice from the yard. It was Mary Margaret.

“What’s up?” said Emma standing from her spot on the deck. Peering over the bannister she could see her newest friend walking toward the porch. As she did, stepping out of whatever orbit she had just fallen into, a part of her felt like she had been caught with something.

“I just wanted to see what you wanted for dinner to-... oh! Hi Killian!” said the cheery woman as she rounded the bend and realized Emma wasn’t alone.

“Hello, Mary Margaret,” said Killian, rising as well to collect his things.

“I didn’t realize you two were working on something, it’s good that I have you both here,” Mary Margaret said. “What would you prefer for dinner tonight, a roast or Italian?”

“You’re going to be at dinner?” Emma looked at Killian who was now standing next to her.

“Aye, Ruby asked me to go in lieu of her grandmother.”

“Oh,” Emma looked away from him, realizing that of course he was dating someone like Ruby. And then internally scolding herself for even remotely minding that he would be there tonight with someone else. “I didn’t know that.”

“It’s relatively last minute,” he said quietly, almost like he was only saying it to her.

“Anything you make is fine with me,” Emma said taking her eyes from Killian to Mary Margaret.

“Same here,” said Killian.

And if anyone noticed how uncomfortable Emma had suddenly become, no one said a thing.

That evening, as Emma sat at the breakfast bar of her kitchen, she sipped a glass of Chardonnay she had poured herself. The tall stemware was a Christmas gift she had bought last year when she realized all of her wine glasses were mismatched souvenir cups.

If ten year old Emma could see twenty eight year old Emma, she could only imagine the conversation they would have. She had spent 18 years in the foster system, which meant living out of a backpack. Especially as she aged beyond the cute baby years and into her preteen years when it was a lost cause to be permanently adopted.

As she looked around her new house, she couldn’t help but think about how this had been all she wanted growing up. The big two story entryway with the skylight. The dining room with a big, oak table to have Thanksgiving dinner. The all white kitchen, that had a breakfast nook and bay windows. The living room with big comfortable couches and artwork she had collected over the years.

Beyond all of that though, was the pressing fact that she had essentially assembled this home on her own. Every couch, every picture frame, every glass was there because she had put it there. When they had moved into their first apartment together, when she was 18, Neal had helped every step of the way. Sure, it had been a tiny studio apartment over a laundromat and most of its contents were from second hand stores but still. When they had nothing between the two of them he was there… but now, where was Neal?

Checking the watch on her wrist it was 6:50 and they were due to be at the Nolan’s around 7. She was getting worried.

At 5 before Emma had hopped in the shower, she had called to remind him of the dinner. No answer.

At 5:30 when she was done drying her hair, she had called to remind him of the dinner. No answer.

At 6 when she was ironing a shirt for him in their walk in closet, she had called the country club to see if he was still there. The woman at the front desk had said he had left an hour ago.

At 6:30 when she put the finishing touches on her outfit, simple dark jeans and a cream colored sweater, her usual jewelry, her hair in loose curls she sent him a text. No answer.

The ticking watch on her wrist taunted her, clicking along, minutes going by. All the while hoping he would just call. At the very least, just call. She put up with a lot from him. But how hard was it to call?

Then at 7:05, just as Emma was about to smash the glass in her hand, he walked in the door.

“Em…?” she heard him call out from the foyer.

“In the kitchen,” she said back, her voice an unmistakable monotone.

“Sorry I’m late, we went to dinner in town after the round,” he said, kissing her forehead. What she smelled on him though was the thick stench of bourbon.

“Are you drunk?” Emma sat up in her seat, tugging away from his embrace.

“No.” He stepped back, setting his clubs on the tile floor. The one thing he managed to unpack during the move. “Lighten up, Em. It’s a Saturday.”

“Yeah, well, we’re late for dinner. The one that was actually planned,” she said tightly getting up from her chair. She grabbed her red jacket and threw it over top of her sweater. If she went in on him right now, there would be no making it to dinner.

“We could just cancel.”

“No.”

“Can I have a few minutes to change?” he asked, treading lightly around her.

“That depends….” Emma crossed her arms. “If you go upstairs are you going to magically disappear for 9 hours?”

He gathered his things, pushing past her to walk upstairs. How did we get like this? She wondered while she waited. They hadn’t always been this disconnected. There was a time when he was just about her everything, the only consistency she knew. More so now than ever she felt herself clutching to those memories. But when he started working for his father four years ago, that had all slowly started to change.

By 7:30 they had made their way across the street to the Nolan’s, Emma apologizing profusely for their lateness. When she saw that Killian and Ruby had already arrived, she did just about anything to not be near the two together. So when Mary Margaret suggested a tour of the house, Emma jumped at the opportunity. The woman, being very proud of her home, took she and Neal through each room.

It was very different than their house across the street. The Nolan’s were far more practical than they were. All of the floors a dark, sturdy wood that wouldn’t show dirt. Eclectic, comfortable furniture. The rooms all open to one another so that everything flowed evenly. Pictures everywhere of David and Mary Margaret on trips, from their wedding, from college. Pieces of art made by her students and given as gifts. Books were scattered on just about every surface and candles were lit all around giving the house a warm glow and a lovely smell.

“When we have kids, I want to be able to see them in the backyard from the kitchen,” said Mary Margaret as they finished the tour, looping through the back half of the house. The kitchen was where they ended, the soft brown and beige colors of the counters and cabinets making it feel so homey.

“But for now her being able to watch the dogs is sufficient,” David joked as he handed Emma and Neal glasses of wine. He was the local veterinarian, and according to Mary Margaret, brought home more animals than money. At the moment there were two dogs in the house plus a cat. Which made it feel even more inviting.

“We built this house knowing we wanted a big family… I just didn’t imagine being outnumbered by the animals,” said Mary Margaret. She was the quintessential elementary school teacher. With her sing-song voice, kind face and patient temperament.

“I like to bring my work home,” David said bringing his wife into his embrace. The two leaned against the back cabinets and smiled.

“It’s a good thing I don’t, we’d have twenty two 8 year olds running around.”

Everyone laughed at that, and suddenly it felt a bit more easy to be here. The Nolans were at glance the ideal young couple. But aside from that they were just nice people, and Emma liked that. They were certainly not the worst neighbors she could have.

The dining room off of the kitchen held a modest wood table, filled with different steaming pots of food.

“I hope you don’t mind, I went a little overboard,” said Mary Margaret as they all sat down at their seats. Each place setting with a handwritten, elegant tag.

“Wow you guys are like real adults,” Ruby said as they sat at their assigned seats. David and Mary Margaret at either head. Then in the middle sat Ruby and Killian to the left, Emma and Neal to the right. If her fiance, at all, had a chip on his shoulder about having dinner with the man who was his landscaper he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead he was the opposite of what Emma had predicted he would be.

“Everything looks great,” Neal said. He had suddenly become Prince Charming now that they were in front of people.

“How are you two enjoying Storybrooke?” Ruby asked once everyone had begun eating. The light lull of conversation carrying through. Emma looked at her sitting next to Killian and decided that they made an attractive couple. What with their dark hair, angular faces and big eyes. Though hers were green and his were the same striking blue that kept catching her attention from across the table. Something she was probably imagining.

“Well, I enjoy it here, it’s where I grew up,” Neal chimed in. “So it’s always been home to me.”

“I guess I’m just a bit harder to please,” Emma said, hoping that she hid the bitterness in her tone.

“Where did you grow up, Emma?” the well-meaning David asked.

“Foster care,” she said back matter of factly. The quiet that filled the dining room was somehow still deafening. No one ever knew how to respond to that, which meant Emma was always able to recover from the statement quickly. “So living in a place like this is a dream come true for me.”

She grabbed Neal’s hand that rested on the table, and everyone seemed to simultaneously breath. People loved a happy ending, especially one where the baby left in a basket on the side of the road ended up living the American dream. Outwardly at least. It was a story people were relieved by, just like right now at the dinner table. Except that when Emma’s gaze drifted to Killian she realized he was the only one able to look her in the eyes. And she was most definitely not imagining it.

The rest of the night went off without a hitch. Neal somehow recovered from his drunken day on the golf course and charmed the pants off of the new neighbors. Telling stories and commanding the room. While glass after glass of wine was poured. All the while Emma sat back and watched him dance. He knew he was in deep with her. She would give him that credit, he always worked overtime to make things up to her.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Emma said, while everyone was gathered in the kitchen, distracted listening to a story about Neal’s round of golf with the police chief today. Something about a gofer… she didn’t really care. All she knew was she needed some air.

“Oh… sorry, I didn’t realize you had come out here,” Emma said when she noticed Killian leaned against the pillar of the front porch.

“No, it’s okay, I should get back in there anyway.” He slid his phone back into his pocket, he had excused himself a bit ago to take a call.

Emma could still hear the the conversation going on inside and promptly closed the door behind her.

“Some fresh air, love?” he asked with a half smile, the porch was dim but she could still make out the angles of his face.

“Yeah. The room was a bit… loud for me in there.”

“He’s quite the talker that one,” Killian said, and that made Emma smile. That she wasn’t the only one who was tired of having one person take up all the oxygen in the room.

“Yes, he is,” she said. She knew she should go back in. But for whatever reason Emma just didn’t want to. Instead she plopped herself down on one of the rocking chairs near the door.

The two of them were quiet for a few moments, only listening to the sounds of the neighborhood. Kids getting called in for the night, a car or two driving past, the light breeze that made her curl her arms around herself. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable though, it was like an unspoken understanding. She watched him a bit as his back was turned to her. He wore a pair of jeans and a long sleeve navy blue sweater, it was the first time she saw him in anything other than his gardening attire. Then her eyes shifted to the front of her new home.

It was utterly still, the house, massive but stale looking. True no one was home but it was hard to make the comparison between their house and Mary Margaret’s. Mary Margaret’s was designed to be a home, Emma’s was designed to be a statement piece.

“My brother raised me,” he said finally and Emma turned to where he was leaned against one of the railings, but he was looking out toward the street. She could just barely make out the profile of his face. The tightness to his jaw.

Emma stayed quiet, surveying what his goal was by saying this to her.

“I lost both parents very young. But he was old enough to be my guardian.”

“You were lucky to have him.”

“Aye.”

As Emma looked toward Killian, she noted his body language. His facial expression. And deciffered that his past was not something he tended to share a lot. She didn’t press him though, he wasn’t telling her so they could have a long discussion of their respective parental abandonment. But knowing about it did make her feel like less of an idiot for blurting out her past at the dinner table.

“There you are,” said Ruby as the front door opened. Her green eyes looked toward Emma who was sitting in the rocking chair still. Turning to Killian she said, “I need to get back, I have an early morning tomorrow at Granny’s.”

“I’ll walk you home then,” Killian quickly offered.

The others came out onto the porch through the wide open front door. David, Mary Margaret and Neal filling the space. A mix of goodbyes and thank yous were exchanged between the six people as they all went their separate ways. Emma’s eyes shifted toward her neighbor’s house as she and Neal walked back. While she promised herself it was just to ensure Ruby got into her house okay, she knew deep down there was something else she was watching for.

And when Killian said goodnight to Ruby without anything more than a hug; an unwarranted, undeserved sigh of relief filled her body.

#cs ff #cs au #captain swan fanfiction #cs fic #cs ff au #captain swan #emma swan #killian jones

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overlordofthelollipopguild · 6 years

Text

Life Just Got Complicated - Chapter 4

Here’s the next chapter that I’ve been working on all week. It’s super long so I hope you guys enjoy it. There’s hopefully some slow burn CS and there’s lots of cute Red Beauty.

I do have one note though and that it’s that I’m absolutely not trying to villainize Milah. Every mention of her so far are from people who were Team Killian or hurt by her (i.e. Killian) so these are very biased POVs (Liam especially in Killian's memories as he's overprotective big brother) so Milah has no defense, because Killian, Ruby, and Liam amongst literally everyone else, don't know the whole story. I hope to reveal the truth eventually. But Milah is definitely not the villain of this story.

Anyway, here are the links on the other sites (please leave reviews/comments if you read there):

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12482512/4/Life-Just-Got-Complicated

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14260986/chapters/33598680

Chapter 4: Connections

Emma found herself in the kitchen observing Killian as she sipped her coffee. It had been just over a week since he had moved in and so far things were comfortable. She honestly wasn’t sure how to feel about that. On one side of it, the night she had returned from the stakeout had somewhat broken the ice between them, and they fell into a sort of routine. Killian woke up early and started breakfast, Emma joined him, they would make small talk, then Emma would go off to work and Killian would work to meet his deadlines, then she’d come home and they alternated between Emma bringing home takeout and Killian cooking, as well as alternating dishes.

But then there was the other side. The one that had them dancing around each other as though they were on the edge of something that wasn’t quite tangible. They were careful of each other, but not sure why. Every time he came near her, she tensed as though anticipating more than just longing looks.

Often enough, she caught him looking at her with these lingering gazes that she didn’t want to read into, but she also found herself watching him too. Her thoughts would drift off, thinking only of him and nothing else seemed much to matter. Was it just physical attraction? He was very attractive, and there was definitely a mutual attraction there. There certainly was a leftover spark from their one night together.

Even now, she felt herself flushing a bit, remembering Killian hovering over her, his blue eyes glowing with intensity. Shaking herself, she returned her eyes to the man in front of her, who was furiously typing away at his laptop.

In spite of his gazes, Killian respected her personal space. He often kept a distance between them which Emma greatly appreciated. She didn’t trust herself whenever he was close. He kept to himself and he didn’t push her; he didn’t ask questions about her past or ask for personal information unless it was necessary. All in all, he was the perfect roommate for her.

There was just another problem to add to her list though.

Not only did he invade her waking thoughts, but she kept dreaming about him. That was perhaps the most infuriating thing. Wet dreams of him she could understand; again there was the physical attraction and she knew just how skilled he was in bed. But there were other dreams that unsettled her. Dreams that were more…domestic in nature, and she wasn’t sure if that was because he was her roommate or if it was something else.

No, it can’t be anything else. She told herself. It’s just his proximity, and seeing him every day.

“Swan?” Killian’s voice cut through her thoughts. He was looking at her with some concern, his brow adorably furrowed.

He’s not adorable. Emma chided herself. “Yeah?”

“You looked upset.” Killian said. He even sounded genuinely concerned. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I was just lost in thought.” Emma said, trying not to feel affection for him. His concern warmed her in ways that she didn’t want to analyze any further. To distract herself from her thoughts, she started up a conversation. “How’s the writing going?”

“It’s good today.” Killian said. He stretched his arms a bit, unintentionally teasing her eyes with a bit of skin where his shirt rose. “Some days are easier than others.”

“Writer’s block, right?” Emma asked, trying hard to keep her eyes on his face.

“It can be a pain.” Killian chuckled. He ran a hand through his hair. “Today is Gal Pal Saturday, right?”

Emma nodded. “Yeah.” Gal Pal Saturday: the one day every month that Ruby designated for the three of them to hang out and just be girls. It was one of the times that Emma actually didn’t feel like the third wheel with Ruby and Belle. “Are you going to be working all day?”

“Not all day.” Killian told her, setting his laptop on the coffee table. “I was just going to finish this up, then go out.”

A flare of unexpected jealousy rose up in Emma as an image of Killian out with someone who wasn’t her. Don’t be ridiculous. He’s not your territory. “Oh, are you going to meet someone?”

Killian tilted his head, his eyes curious. “No. I don’t exactly have other friends.” He shrugged. “I prefer to be alone.”

That sounds familiar. Emma swallowed, panicking a bit at feeling connected to Killian. “Yeah, I get that.”

The understanding look in his eyes made her want to run.

Crap. Emma cursed at revealing too much of herself with so few words.

“I should go.” She finished the last of her coffee and headed to the door grabbing her keys and red leather jacket. She had to get out of there before she said something else. Revealing anything more to him was dangerous territory. As she shrugged on her jacket, she glanced at him, finding his brows furrowed as he looked at her.

Killian gave her a small smile, that seemed a bit forced, before turning his attention back to his work. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, later.” She nodded, grabbing her purse too.

“Have fun.” He replied sincerely.

Her stomach fluttered as his eyes met hers. “Yeah, as long as Ruby doesn’t get too crazy.” She heard him chuckle in response before she left the apartment.

The elevator ride down felt like forever as her thoughts whirled around. It was probably a good thing for her to get out of the apartment and away from Killian. Maybe some space would give her clarity, and keep her from opening up her heart.

“Should you really be saying that about your boss?” Belle asked as she looked through some blouses to pair with the navy skirt she found.

They were at a clothing boutique that was thankfully in their price range, and still had clothes that looked tasteful and expensive. Luckily there was a variety too, and not just what was trendy.

Ruby shrugged. “I’m not at work, so I think I can bitch about my boss as long as no one from work is around.” Ruby glanced around the store. “And look, no one I know is here.”

Emma snorted. Leave it to Ruby to bad mouth someone and then check to be sure no one else heard.

“Sure, laugh.” Ruby playfully scoffed. “You have a great boss.”

Emma shrugged. “Cleo can be tough.”

“Lies.” Ruby said. “All lies. Oooh, Belle, this would look so cute on you.” She pulled a navy dress with red polka dots and a matching red belt and handed it to Belle.

Belle looked at it with approval, adding it to the pile of clothes she carried.

“What about you, Emma?” Belle asked, looking over at the blonde. “Need a new dress for work?”

“I always need a new dress for work.” Emma said as she looked through the racks, wondering if she should stray from her usual colors of red and black. A pink dress caught her eye and she wondered what Killian would say to it, before quickly banishing the thought. “For some reason men think that throwing a drink at me is a good enough distraction for them to make a run for it. I take them to the cleaners, but sometimes even they can’t get the stains out.”

Ruby scoffed. “Forget getting something to wear to work. Get something for a hot date. A dress that makes a guy’s jaw drop.”

“Most of my work consists of me going on “hot dates,” as you know.” Emma picked a black number from the rack, scrutinizing it before replacing it. “Besides, I don’t date.”

“Yes, that’s pretty much your motto.” Ruby huffed looking at her. “You know Emma, those walls of yours aren’t doing you any favors.”

“Ruby.” Belle spoke in gentle warning. This wasn’t the time or place to get into an argument over Emma’s lack of a love life.

Emma wasn’t bothered by it too much. She and Ruby had had this argument before. Then again, Ruby didn’t know the whole story. Oh, Ruby knew more about Emma’s past than anyone else had ever known, but Neal and the baby she gave up were things that Emma still hid. Things that she couldn’t talk about with anyone. Emma forced the memories away, instead focusing intently on the clothes in front of her.

“Look, I just bring it up all the time, because I think that you really could find someone who could make you really happy.” Ruby said, her tone both pleading and sincere. “Like how Belle makes me feel.”

Belle smiled at the sentiment, clearly agreeing with her girlfriend.

“I’m not saying that a woman needs to have a relationship.” Ruby continued. “There are many single women out there who are perfectly happy and that’s fantastic. But Emma, you aren’t one of them. You’ve had a life that’s starved you of love and affection. You need someone in your life to lean on. Someone who you could be completely intimate with on every level. Physical and emotional. You know?”

While Ruby’s words rang true, it was uncomfortable to hear. Even worse, when Ruby spoke about intimacy, Emma pictured Killian in her mind and how comfortable it was to live with him, and how he comforted her after her nightmare on their night together. It shook her that she thought of Killian in that moment.

Hurriedly, Emma grabbed a few random dresses. “I’m going to go try these on.” She walked away from her friends and found an empty dressing room. Hanging her dresses, she sat down taking deep calming breaths to curtail her panic, hoping that tears wouldn’t follow.

Why did it always come back to Killian? Was she crazy? He was her roommate. They had sex one night before they ever knew each other. But they knew each other now and nothing good would happen if they became more than that. They could not, absolutely could not, become a couple. It would only end badly, because of her. She wasn’t meant to be loved, and that’s how it was meant to be.

More than that, Emma needed to keep her distance from him. They couldn’t be roommates forever, and she doubted that she could handle it if he abandoned her too.

They watched Emma flee to the dressing rooms.

At first, Ruby was tempted to follow her, but then she thought better of it, knowing that Emma would feel better after a moment to herself.

“You pushed her.” Belle sighed, giving her girlfriend a chiding look.

“Sometimes she needs a push.” Ruby said, paying more attention to the clothes than Belle’s disapproval. “What do you think of this number?” Ruby pulled out a red dress and held it against her. “It’s a good date night dress, right?”

“Yes, and you’ll look gorgeous.” Belle said. “Now, stop trying to change the subject.”

That only earned a huff from Ruby. “Emma will be fine.” Ruby told her. “She just needs a breather.”

“Because you pushed.” Belle reiterated.

Ruby shrugged. “Like I said, she needs one.” Ruby turned to face Belle. “She isn’t happy being our third wheel, and setting her up with Killian failed. Emma deserves to be happy, and I think she’s been alone so long that she is just used to being unhappy. That’s not fair to her. Someone needs to climb those walls and treat her the way she deserves.”

“I agree with you completely.” Belle said. “But don’t you think you need a more subtle approach?”

“I’m having déjà vu.” Ruby and Belle had had this conversation many times before. Then again, if Ruby wasn’t always pushing Emma then there wouldn’t be a need for this conversation to begin with; alas, Ruby dug her own whole.

Belle sighed again. “Maybe Emma will meet someone on her own?” It was a worthy suggestion. Emma was young, single, and lived in a big city. She did go out on her own or with them from time to time. Eventually, she would have to meet someone who caught her eye.

“She never even tries to meet someone.” Ruby countered. “Unless it’s for one night stands, and believe me, if Emma had a one night stand and met that guy again, she’d run. That’s why I push. She just needs to know that dating isn’t the end of the world. That there are good guys out there. Like Killian.” Ruby sighed wistfully. “If only she’d date Killian.”

Belle shook her head, trying not to be amused by her girlfriend’s antics. “Her heart might not be ready.” Belle said. “There’s a reason she’s never told us about her past relationships.”

“Maybe so.” Ruby took another dress off of the rack. “But she can’t let some douchebag ex or exes hold that kind of power over her.” Her arms full, Ruby turned to face Belle. “Let’s go check on her and try these on.”

“Just promise me that you won’t push her again today?” Bella requested as they headed to the back of the store.

“Fine.” Ruby said. “But only for the rest of the day.”

Belle chuckled. “That’s all I ask.”

Killian walked along the harbor, breathing in the salty air. Being near water always calmed him whenever he was in turmoil, or helped him whenever he just needed a quiet place to sit and think. He had a lot of thinking to do as of late.

After Emma returned home from her stakeout, something between them shifted, but he couldn’t help but feel off kilter about it.

It was as if they were both anticipating something, yet holding themselves back.

Was it sexual tension? They were both clearly very attracted to each other. He had even caught Emma checking him out a few times, but he never called her on it. It was obvious that she needed her space, and Killian didn’t want to push her if that only made her uncomfortable.

Or was it something else? Was the connection they made on that first night still there and just thrumming under the surface?

He knew that he wanted there to be a connection, but he feared it too. Emma was the first person that he had met since Milah that made him want more than just a one night stand. He felt something with her that he hadn’t felt since Milah.

Milah.

God, he thought about her so many times over the past five years. He had known that getting involved with her probably wasn’t a good idea, but the allure of a loving relationship was just too much.

Honestly, Killian had never meant for anything to start.

Unfortunately, Killian was much younger and a fool, blinded by her passionate personality and his own physical attraction. Perhaps he was seeking something in Milah that he needed, but she couldn’t give.

It had all ended in pain and tears, just as Liam predicted it would.

I told you this would happen, Liam had said. She was just using you until her husband beguiled her with his money. She was never going to be with you the way you wanted.

Killian closed his eyes as shame and guilt rose and twisted inside of him.

After the fallout, he couldn’t remain in town; he couldn’t face any of them anymore. It was unbearable, and he couldn’t breathe easy any longer.

Five years later, he hadn’t talked to anyone except Ruby, who had been one of the few that sided with him completely on the Milah debacle.

So yeah, he definitely wasn’t ready for that.

But was he ready to open his heart again? Milah had crushed it, but Emma made it feel something again.

Their night together had been passionate and intense, and ever since he moved in, he learned little things about Emma that only endeared her to him. Their shared love of grilled cheese for one. Then there was the way that she would bob her head and move a little with music whenever she was in a really good mood. The very specific way her hot chocolate had to be made: milk in a pot on the stove, bring to a boil, stir in the Swiss Miss hot chocolate and cinnamon, then pour it in a mug and put some Reddi Wip on top, then sprinkle more cinnamon on top. He only knew because he offered to make it once and she showed him all of the steps, because apparently making hot chocolate was serious business.

There were other things too; how her nose scrunched up when she didn’t like something, how her brow furrowed when she was worried, how her head tilted when she was concentrating or curious about something, and the way that when she was trying not to laugh she couldn’t quite hide a smile or when she did laugh her teeth showed as the musical sound left her.

He was utterly smitten by her. He shouldn’t be since they were supposed to just be roommates, and Emma wanted nothing more than that. Killian had to respect her wishes, but it was hard to be around her and not have his stomach dancing or his eyes being entranced by her every move.

How did he always fall for women that weren’t interested?

Leaning against the safety rails, Killian looked out at the harbor, the wind whipping at his hair.

What was he going to do?

Emma finished putting away her new clothes and shoes when she heard the door open.

“Swan, you home?” Killian’s voice rang out through the apartment.

“Bedroom!” She called out, collecting the now empty shopping bags.

Killian appeared in the open doorway, casually leaning against the frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

Emma averted her eyes. Why did he have to look so damn attractive? He clearly had been out and about too as his hair was a tousled mess. “Where did you go off to?”

“Just down by the harbor.” Killian told her. “I like the water. Helps me think.”

That surprised her, but she tried not to let it show. The water usually helped her think too. Every place she had lived, she had always found a beach or a lake or a river to be her thinking spot. Since living in Boston, the harbor was the best thinking spot around. “That’s nice. Writer’s block?”

“No.” Killian looked nervous, and his arms tightened.

Emma figured he was trying not to scratch his ear. It was a cute little nervous tic. Everything he did was cute. The way his eyebrows were so expressive for one. Like when he was joking, they would waggle or when he was surprised they would both rise up. Then there was how he tilted his head a bit when he was confused. How his tongue would poke out when he was in his writing zone and focused. How he remembered little things like how she liked her coffee, that grilled cheese was her favorite, how she preferred cherry pop tarts above the others. Cute little things that made her heart ache and sent her stomach in a flutter.

Pushing aside her thoughts, Emma focused on the man before her. “What’s for dinner tonight?”

“I was thinking pizza, beer, and a movie.” Killian said.

“Cool.” Emma agreed. “There’s a good pizza place a couple of blocks over. They know my usual. What would you like?”

“Pepperoni is fine.” Killian said. “You want to pick the movie?”

“Surprise me.” Emma said, already picking up her cell phone and dialing the pizza place.

Thirty minutes later the pizza arrived and The Princess Bride began to play on the screen.

“So, The Princess Bride?” Emma arched a brow, though she couldn’t fight the smile that broke out on her face. It was, after all, her all time favorite movie.

The man beside her reddened. “Uh, yeah. I’m a bit of a romantic at heart.”

“That’s not a bad thing.” Emma reassured. In fact, it was just one more endearing quality to add to the growing list of endearing things about Killian Jones.

Killian smiled at her before turning his focus to the movie. “You have to give Westley some props for dedication to her.”

“You think so?” Emma asked.

“Clearly he was in love with her before she was in love with him.” Killian said. “Even when it was clear that she had feelings for him but didn’t realize it, he stuck around.”

“It’s sweet.” Emma agreed as they came to the scene where Westley was telling Buttercup goodbye. As Westley allayed Buttercup’s fears and spoke of True Love, Emma frowned. This was certainly the movie that made her believe in such love, but that was years ago, when she was young and innocent. After Neal, she knew that True Love was never in the cards for her.

So lost in her own thoughts, Emma didn’t notice Killian looking at her at Westley’s line about True Love.

Emma felt for Buttercup when she found out that Westley had died. Love only caused pain after all, so why should she love again? Emma shook her head, and tried to focus on the movie.

“Ugh, Vizzini.” Killian scoffed, earning a snort from Emma. “He was very annoying.”

“At least he gets killed off.” Emma said. “I always felt bad for poor Fezzik. He’s not as stupid as everyone seems to think.”

Killian nodded in agreement, unable to speak since he was biting into his pizza.

Emma glanced at him just in time to see his tongue dart out to lick some stray sauce from his lips. Her eyes darted back to the screen as she took a sip of her beer.

As the movie continued, Emma and Killian laughed and tensed at all the right parts, throwing in their own commentary here and there.

Emma honestly had never had as much fun watching a movie before. Even with Ruby and Belle, watching movies wasn’t as fun, mostly due to third wheel awkwardness. But this, with Killian here, it was relaxing and Emma was enjoying his little comments to every other scene.

Unbeknownst to her, Killian too was having a good time. Even with Belle and Ruby being in his life, he often kept to himself and was resistant to hanging out. Sitting here with Emma, both of them enjoying one of his top five movies, it was nice. It had been too long since he just hung out with someone and genuinely enjoyed their company without worry of not being sociable enough.

Perhaps they were becoming friends after all.

As the movie, and their commentary, continued, Emma’s face hurt from smiling so much. For the first time, bonding with someone didn’t seem so scary, and that usual panic, that so often reared up in moments like this, was absent. For once, Emma wasn’t running.

Ruby was on her lunch break, playing with some designs for her portfolio, when her cell phone buzzed. Seeing the name on the screen, Ruby winced.

Mary Margaret had been her best friend through childhood up to college, but these past few weeks, blissful in her new relationship status and busy at work, Ruby hadn’t called Mary Margaret as often as she usually did.

“Hey Mare.” Ruby greeted. “How’s it going?”

“Really good actually.” Mary Margaret said.

Ruby knew Mary Margaret so well that she could practically feel the excitement on the other line. “Oh, is that charming husband of yours living up to his nickname?”

Mary Margaret laughed. “You know he always does. He also hates that nickname.”

“Blame Killian for that one.” Ruby said without thinking. She stiffened when she realized what she said. Mary Margaret and David had both taken Killian’s leaving and lack of contact hard.

“We miss him.” Mary Margaret sighed.

“I know.” Ruby said. “I’ve tried to get him to call, but he’s very stubborn.”

“We are very aware.” Mary Margaret chuckled. “Speaking of Killian, since he won’t call, could you tell him my news?”

“Is that why you called?” Ruby’s tone was light. “Making me your messenger pigeon?”

“Well I was calling you to tell you.” Mary Margaret said. “Telling Killian is just a bonus.”

Ruby let out a playful scoff. “So, what’s your news girl?”

There was a beat before Mary Margaret screeched. “I’m pregnant!”

“Oh my God!” Ruby squealed. “That’s great!”

David and Mary Margaret had been married practically as soon as they got out of high school, but they had been putting off having kids until they were ready.

“Isn’t it?” Mary Margaret said. “Ruth is very excited of course. Probably more than me and David.”

Ruby chuckled. “She and Granny are probably going to raid the craft store now. They’ll buyout all the yarn for that kid of yours.”

“Probably.” Mary Margaret said. “David and I will be up to our necks in booties and baby blankets.”

“So true.” Ruby’s smile was starting to hurt. “Congratulations, really. You and David are going to be amazing parents.”

“We’re just so excited.” Mary Margaret let out a bubbly laugh. “Neither of us can stop smiling. Anyway, just pass the news on to Killian. We’d love it if he could come visit. You and Belle too.”

Mary Margaret had been pushing for Ruby to bring Belle back to Storybrooke for a while now, but neither Ruby nor Belle’s schedules had been open enough.

“Whenever your first baby shower is, Belle and I will be there.” Ruby promised. “I can’t promise anything with Killian though.”

“As long as you try, that’ll be enough.” It was a lie, but Mary Margaret knew better than to expect anything with Killian.

“Who knows, maybe he will come back?” Ruby said. “It’s your and David’s kid after all.”

“Maybe, but then again that might be too hard for him.” Mary Margaret said. “Is he still…has he moved on?”

“Not really.” Ruby sighed. “I have a friend who’s perfect for him, but their both stubborn. But who knows, maybe he’ll find someone.”

“Who’s your friend?”

“Emma Swan.” Ruby said. “But so far it’s a no go between them.”

“At least you tried.” Mary Margaret said. “Oh, Ruth’s calling. Tell Killian we love him and miss him, and that we hope to see him soon.”

“I will.” Ruby said.

Mary Margaret hung up.

Ruby was truly happy for her friends, but she really hoped that Killian didn’t take the news too hard.

Belle entered Emma and Killian’s apartment with her key, looking for Killian. She needed him to read over some drafts and edit them before she submitted them to her professors. “Killian, you here?”

“Nope.” Emma said, coming out of the bathroom. “He had a meeting, but I guess it’s running late. I just got home.”

“Okay.” Belle said. “Do you mind if I wait? I’d email him these drafts, but I prefer to talk in person after he edits. It’s easier to make notes and figure things out.”

“Yeah, sure.” Emma smiled. “I was just about to order some dinner and watch some t.v.”

Belle settled in on the couch with her papers and laptop.

“I think I’ll get Indian tonight.” Emma told her. “Do you know what Killian likes?”

“Anything with lamb.” Belle said. “Ooh, if you’re ordering from that place over by the bookstore, he loves their lamb coconut curry.”

“What about you?” Emma asked.

“Oh don’t worry about me.” Belle waved her off, not wanting to impose.

“Belle, you’re eating.” Emma told her, giving her a look. “Besides, I have a feeling that these editing sessions run long.”

Belle knew that she had a point, and these editing sessions did in fact last some hours long. “Chicken Korma.”

As Emma called in the order, Belle thought over how Emma had been on Saturday. After some time to herself, Emma had returned, composed, but for the rest of the afternoon, Emma had been lost in her thoughts. It had only made Belle curious, especially when Emma had tensed every time that Killian was mentioned in conversation.

When Emma hung up after placing the order, Belle saw her chance to sate her curiosity. “Hey, Emma?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you and Killian getting on all right?” Belle asked. She knew that Killian was a great roommate and a perfect gentleman, but there was something working in her brain; she could feel that there was more to know regarding her two friends.

“Yeah, we’ve been good.” Emma said with a kind smile. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.” Belle said. “He’s a good roommate.”

Emma’s expression turned soft. “He is.”

Belle noted Emma’s soft look with keen interest. “So you guys broke the ice?”

“We did.” Emma said, joining Belle on the couch. “He’s been great, really.” Emma smiled as she remembered their movie night and how Killian insisted that it should become a tradition. She had never had traditions before until Belle and Ruby, but it felt different having a tradition with Killian. There was more to it that she wasn’t quite sure of, but some small part of her wanted to find out.

Belle couldn’t help but wonder about Emma’s demeanor. She had never seen Emma so comfortable before and they were just talking about Killian. Wait? Could it be that she..? Could they…

An idea sparked in Belle’s mind, one that could prove her already working theory about Emma and Killian’s relationship. Or at least, she hoped that it would prove her right. “That’s good.” Belle said. “Ruby still thinks that you and Killian are a good match.” Careful now, Belle. You’re entering dangerous territory.

“Belle.” Emma sighed, her face dropping as her shoulders slumped. “I already told Ruby that’s not going to happen.” It couldn’t happen; not with him. Emma couldn’t risk it.

“I know.” Belle reassured. “But I do think that Ruby has a point. You deserve to be happy, and you need to give dating a chance.” Belle took Emma’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “There are good guys out there.”

Emma suddenly found the coffee table very interesting. She knew that Ruby and Belle had good points, and she wasn’t happy being alone. Her head was just too scared to risk her heart. It was hard enough to let friends in, but to let someone in who could love her? Someone who could hold her heart? It was too dangerous.

“How about baby steps?” Belle offered, hoping to find a compromise that Emma would be comfortable with. “There’s a grad student I know. He’s a nice guy, so one date won’t hurt, right?” Okay, so the guy she was thinking of wasn’t nice, but setting Emma up was just a part of her plan, not meant to be a long term thing.

“I don’t know.” Emma hesitated. Though Belle did have a point. It would only be just one little date, right? Nice guy or not, it’s not like Emma was required to like the guy. She didn’t even have to see him again after the date.

“Just one date.” Belle said. “Friday night, and if it’s not working out, Ruby and I will bail you out.”

An image of Killian floated in Emma’s mind, but she quickly pushed it away. There couldn’t be anything between them. Belle was right.

It would only be one little date.

“So don’t freak out.” Belle said as Ruby came into the bedroom after finishing her nightly ritual.

“Freak out about what?” Ruby asked, climbing on the bed. “Did you increase your workload again? Or did another TA hit on you?” Ruby gasped mockingly. “Oh God, did you eat the last of my Valentine’s candy?” Though, eating her candy would be the one thing that Ruby wouldn’t be able to forgive.

Belle rolled her eyes, a smile gracing her face. “None of the above, and for the record, you ate all of your candy and the last of mine.” Luckily, Belle was much more forgiving than Ruby.

“You don’t even like the cream filled ones.” Ruby objected, careful not to mention that she ate Belle’s last coconut filled one. “I was doing you a favor.”

“A true favor would be giving me your coconut filled ones, you candy hog.” Belle huffed, though she was still smiling.

“So what am I about to freak out about?” Ruby asked. It must’ve been something good, because Belle had seemed a bit worried earlier.

Belle hesitated. “Okay, but it’s for everyone’s own good.”

“What is?” Now it really had to be good. It made Ruby all the more curious.

“I convinced Emma to go out on a date.” Belle winced, already preparing herself for Ruby’s reaction.

Ruby whipped her head towards Belle, her jaw agape. “You did what? How? What?”

Belle shrugged. “I just used your words against her but pushed her gently.”

“But, how?” Ruby clearly in shock couldn’t properly form coherency. “But, but, she…we are talking about Emma Swan, right? The Emma Swan?”

“Yes.” Belle said. “That’s not the point. The point is that she has a date on Friday.”

“With who?” Ruby asked, still trying to process the fact that Emma was willingly going out on a date. A real, actual date.

“Oh that Isaac guy.” Belle said with a shrug.

Ruby snorted. “The weird guy who’s full of himself? They won’t get past the appetizers.”

Belle hummed noncommittally. That was exactly her hope.

That caused Ruby to narrow her eyes. “Wait a second. Are you playing at something here, French?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Belle turned away to turn off the bedside lamp.

“You know that Isaac won’t have a chance with Emma.” Ruby stated. “You’re playing at something. The question is why?”

“Let that haunt your dreams.” Belle told her with a smirk. “Because I’m going to bed.”

“You can’t leave me hanging.” Ruby cuddled up to Belle. “Come on, babe. Please tell me?”

Belle turned around and faced her girlfriend. “I won’t. Goodnight.” She pecked Ruby’s lips, but before she could turn back around, Ruby pinned her to the mattress.

“Oh, I think I can get the answer out of you.” Ruby smirked playfully.

“You won’t.” Belle challenged even as she felt Ruby’s hands on her hips, sliding her nightgown up.

Ruby moved down the bed, slowly removing Belle’s panties. “Oh honey, you’re going to tell me everything.”

Killian returned home and heard the shower running. His heartbeat skipped at the thought of Emma naked and wet, but he quickly banished the images away. Emma wished to remain friends, and he had to respect that no matter how much he fantasized about her.

He really should stop fantasizing about her, but it was more difficult than he anticipated; she invaded every thought and every dream. Though he gave her some space, he needed that space too. Whenever Emma was around him, Killian felt as though he were losing himself in her, unable to help looking at her, longing to kiss her again, aching to hold her in his arms.

There you go again, Jones. Shaking away those thoughts, Killian focused on shrugging off his jacket and kicking off his shoes by the door.

It was Friday night, and he didn’t have any plans, nor did Emma as far as he was aware. Perhaps he could entice her to another movie night. They had had a lot of fun watching The Princess Bride, but the past week hadn’t allowed for their schedules to coincide. He either wrote late into the night to keep up with deadlines, or she’d have a stakeout or be in bed early too tired from the day. And he would ensure that a respectable distance was kept once again.

He put his laptop bag in his room, before heading to the bathroom to knock on the door and ask Emma what she wanted for dinner, when the bathroom door opened.

Both he and Emma froze after nearly running into each other, but what kept him speechless was that she was clad only in a short, terry-cloth robe.

Bloody hell. He swallowed, his eyes raking over her bare, freshly shaven legs.

“Killian.” She seemed surprised to see him despite the fact that he lived here. Crap, crap, crap. What is he doing here?

“Swan.” Killian moved his eyes to her face quickly, feeling his ears grow warm. “I just got home, and I was wondering what you’d like for dinner.”

Her brows furrowed as she frowned. Great, now I can’t avoid it. I have to tell him. “Yeah, about that.” She walked past him to her room, leaving Killian no choice but to follow. Not that I could hide it from him. He’d notice if I wasn’t home and came back without alcohol on my dress. Not to mention that she was pretty sure she had told Killian that she had tonight off from work, so he wouldn’t have bought it if she lied and said she had a skip. Or would he? Maybe she got called in?

Get real, Emma. She snapped at herself. He’s a grown man, and there’s nothing going on between the two of you. So what if you have a real date?

He stopped in her doorway, unwilling to enter her space uninvited, wondering why she seemed so on edge.

Emma stopped in front of her closet and started looking through her dresses. She wanted to put off telling him, but she was already close to running late. “I kind of have a date tonight.” She told him, unable to look at him as she said the words. It’s not a big deal. It’s just one date.

Killian tilted his head, confused and wondering why she’d be hesitant to tell him. “For work?” That was usually her go to with skips. Lure them out on a date and then slam them with the handcuffs. Though it didn’t make sense as to why Emma wouldn’t want to tell him. She was usually nonchalant about her skips.

Emma glanced at him. “No. A real date. Belle set it up.” Her eyes bore into him, watching carefully as his confusion turned to hurt.

His heart dropped into his stomach and Killian suddenly found it hard to breathe. A date? She has a date? But hadn’t she told him that she didn’t date? It was only ever one night stands?

Maybe she just told you that to get you off her back, a dark voice in the back of his mind spoke. Women don’t love you, you’re just a pretty face they can use.

Killian closed his eyes, trying to block out the darker side of his thoughts.

“Killian?”

He looked up at her, hearing the uncertainty in her voice.

She looked a little lost herself.

Killian forced a smile. “That’s good.” The knot in his stomach disagreed with him. “You should get back out there.” His entire body was tensing up, even as he tried to play it off. “You deserve to find someone worthy of you.”

That man certainly isn’t me.

Emma turned her attention back to her closet, trying to push the wounded look on his face out of her mind. There was no reason for him to feel hurt, right? They were just roommates.

“Red’s fetching on you.” Killian said quietly.

Emma turned to face him, but he already left, leaving her flushed.

She had been wearing a red blouse and red lingerie the night that they had met.

She pulled a simple black dress from the closet and unattractive beige bra and panties from her dresser. It’s not like anything was going to happen tonight anyway.

I have to go on this date. Emma told herself. If only to prove that there’s nothing between me and Killian.

Isaac Heller was perhaps the most boring, self-absorbed person that Emma had ever met. He couldn’t stop talking about himself and how he’d be the next Stephen King or George R.R. Martin.

Personally, Emma wasn’t a fan of either, but she couldn’t tell Isaac that since he wouldn’t let her get a word in at all. Even when they ordered, he had tried to order for her, before Emma took control of the situation. He hadn’t even asked one question about her. They met, he asked if she was indeed Emma and then he was off boosting his own image.

Seriously, where did this guy get off? Was he that insecure or just that full of himself?

Either way, this was one of the least enjoyable dates Emma had ever been on. Why would Belle even set her up with this guy? Belle knew her better than this and Belle wasn’t one to be blinded by people’s charm, usually seeing through them. There was no way that Belle didn’t know that this date would be a bust. Emma and Isaac were totally incompatible.

Then again, maybe Belle did know that and she was giving Emma an out. After all they had agreed on Emma taking baby steps and that it would only be one date. So maybe setting her up on this date was just Belle’s way of helping her do that? Maybe Belle didn’t intend for Emma to like Isaac? But then again, Belle said that she wanted Emma to be happy, so why not set up a date with a guy that Emma might actually like? Someone that actually had a chance?

Not to mention the fact that this date wasn’t making Emma’s views on dating more positive. If anything, the date only furthered her opinion that dating sucked. Especially when guys like Isaac existed.

She wished that she had just stayed at home and watched a movie with Killian. The thought of him cheered Emma’s mood a bit.

Killian certainly wasn’t Isaac. Probably the exact opposite, in fact. Where Isaac boasted of his talents in writing, Killian never spoke about his work all that much except for the basics of writing. Never had she heard Killian praise himself. There was also the fact that Isaac wouldn’t stop talking and didn’t want to get to know her while Killian would rather listen and get to know her without pushing. Killian definitely wasn’t pushy, but Emma could tell that Isaac was, even if he hadn’t asked her about herself yet.

What am I even doing here? She thought as she pushed the food around on her plate.

The restaurant was nice, and the food was great, but listening to Isaac’s nonstop chatter had pretty much chased Emma’s appetite away. She was tempted to order another glass of wine, but she didn’t want to risk her sobriety on a half-empty stomach.

Realizing that she had completely zoned out on him, Emma refocussed herself and tried to pay attention, but the man was still going on about writing. Apparently he was working on a novel that would blow his creative writing teachers away.

Emma doubted it, and she hadn’t even seen his writing. Belle had told her often enough that all writing went through draft after draft, and that even the finished project was never perfect.

I shouldn’t be here. Emma sighed internally. I should be home, on the couch, deep into Chinese or whatever Killian cooked tonight. We could be watching a movie right now. God, she wanted so badly to be home in comfortable clothes, barefoot and full, and having a good time with Killian.

This Isaac guy wasn’t worth the effort that she put into this date.

“Isaac.” Emma interrupted. It was time to leave. “This isn’t going to work.” She stood grabbing her jacket and her purse.

“Wait, where are you going?” Isaac asked, confused at the abrupt change.

“I’m going home.” Emma said, pulling her jacket on. “This date just hasn’t really been fun. I’m sorry. Have a good night.” She walked away, ignoring Isaac calling out to her for her to pay for her dinner.

Seriously, where did he get off?

As hard as he tried to focus on the movie, Killian couldn’t get his mind off of Emma and the fact that she was on a date. A date with a man that was probably perfect for her. Someone that she could open her heart up to, and it wasn’t him.

Killian groaned. Enough. So Emma’s on a date? She doesn’t belong to you. She’s a single woman, and she deserves to find happiness.

Unlike you.

Killian closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the couch. He didn’t deserve to find happiness; after all, he was the one who left everyone behind, because he was selfish. It had hurt too much for him to stay, and this loneliness was his punishment. Love was nothing but pain and torment.

It was why he didn’t try to date anymore. He didn’t want to end up ensnared by someone who’d take his heart and not care for him. Not again.

At least, that was the plan until Emma came along. She had been a whirlwind crashing into his life, one that he’d gladly let swallow him whole. He was willing to take a chance, but the very fact that he was also scared him. Already, he had growing feelings for her where she had none and that gave her a lot of power even if she didn’t know it. It was a sobering thought. Would she break him too if he gave her his heart?

The door opened, startling him.

Emma walked in kicking off her heels. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Killian blinked, surprised to see her home so early. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.” She remarked with a teasing smirk.

Killian couldn’t help but smile back. “I meant that it’s early and you had a date.”

Emma shrugged. “Date was a bust.” I couldn’t stop comparing him to you. Though she wasn’t going to let Killian know that. Her heart and her head had been at war the entire way home. Should she just give in and give Killian a chance or was it just too risky? Things were going well between her and Killian. They might be becoming friends and Emma wasn’t keen on throwing a spanner into that. He deserved better than her anyway.

“Ah, so he didn’t meet Emma Swan’s standards?” He teased. Secretly, Killian was ecstatic that the date hadn’t worked out. You idiot. How can you be happy about this?

Emma snorted as she hung up her jacket. “The guy wouldn’t have met the lowest standards. He kept talking about himself and then tried to make me pay for food I didn’t end up eating. I’m starving by the way.”

“I made some chicken teriyaki with broccoli.” Killian told her. “It’s in the fridge.”

“Cool.” Emma walked further into the apartment. “I’m going to change, then we’re going to find a movie and have a night in.”

As he watched her head into her bedroom, Killian’s heart pounded in his chest. Emma wanted to hang out with him? After a disappointing date? Did she want his company or did she feel that she had no choice? Was he reading too much into this? He was probably reading too much into this.

His internal debate on the matter was interrupted by Emma returning, now dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants with all of her makeup removed. He watched her move to the kitchen heading straight to the fridge for the leftovers.

As she popped the food in the microwave, curiosity got the better of him. “Was the food at the restaurant bad?”

“No.” Emma said taking a Coke from the fridge. “It was good from what little I ate. I just lost my appetite early on.”

Killian grimaced. “He was that bad.”

He wasn’t you. Emma berated herself for the thought, but it was true.

Killian watched as conflict in her eyes before something seemed to snap in her.

“He was just so narcissistic.” She started, sounding annoyed. “From the minute we met to when I left it all I heard was how he was going to be the greatest writer of our generation. How he’d break records for the best seller lists. How he’d be richer than J.K. Rowling. It’s like how much of an ego can one person have?”

Having never seen the rambling side of Emma before, Killian was slightly taken aback before grinning. Was this a side of Emma that only her friends were privy to? Were they friends?

Emma took her food from the microwave and joined him on the couch, sitting closer to him than she would have normally dared. “I mean what guy talks about the fame and glory he’s yet to achieve for nearly two hours! I’ve been on terrible dates before where guys talk on and on about their life story, but this was like some whole other level of either narcissism or covering up some deep seated insecurities!”

He couldn’t help it, really, because her face was flushed and her nose scrunched up in her adorable way, her brows furrowed with indignation: he laughed.

Emma ceased her ranting, startled by his laughter. It certainly wasn’t the reaction that she expected, but more than that, it was the first time she had heard him laugh before. Sure he chuckled, but his laugh was so different. It was a deep and hearty laugh that began in his gut and worked its way up through him, forcing his head back and his mouth to widen in a broad happy expression. It was a sound that Emma found she wanted to hear again. She couldn’t help but smile at him, playfully hitting his arm. “It’s not funny.”

Killian struggled to recover. “You’re right.” A smaller laugh escaped. “I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat and managed to compose himself the best he could, that broad grin remaining on his face. “It’s really not funny how he treated you, but I’ve never seen you rant before. It’s adorable.”

A blush dominance’s her face, both from embarrassment at his words and naturally reacting to his compliment. “I’m not adorable.” She huffed.

“Cute, then?” He boldly teased.

Another huff escaped her, but she was still smiling. She grabbed the remote from him, ignoring the tingling her fingers felt from brushing against his. “My turn to pick the movie.”

A text came in on Belle’s phone as she cooked breakfast.

“Ugh, if it’s that Isaac guy again, tell him to leave you alone or we’ll file harassment charges.” Ruby grumbled, sipping her coffee.

Isaac had blown Belle’s phone up last night with texts about how rude Emma had been and how Belle was going to collect money for Emma for her part of the dinner bill. Belle had politely texted back and apologized, though insincere since she knew the date wouldn’t end well, on Emma’s behalf citing that it was unusual behavior on Emma’s part.

That hadn’t silenced the incensed Isaac, forcing Belle to ignore the rest of his texts.

Belle reluctantly checked the notification and was relieved that it was from Emma. “It’s Emma.”

“Thank, God.” Ruby said. “What’s she got to say for herself?”

Hey Belle. Sorry I bailed on Isaac.

Belle quickly shot a text back. That’s okay.

“She’s sorry.” Belle said. “There’s nothing to apologize for though. Isaac is a jerk.”

Ruby narrowed her eyes. “You still haven’t said what you’re up to.”

“Despite your valiant efforts.” Belle shot her a cheeky smile as the phone buzzed again.

I do feel bad, but it just didn’t click. Emma’s response said.

Belle wanted to laugh. Leaving mid-date was more than just a reaction to the lack of sparks. It’s fine, Emma. Honestly, he’s apparently a jerk anyway.

Uh oh?

Don’t worry about it. Belle reassured her friend. Besides, Belle could handle Isaac, and if she couldn’t, well it was a good thing that Ruby was a violently protective girlfriend.

Still. He wasn’t bad, just annoying. Hanging with Killian was more fun.

Her eyes read over the message twice. Mentioning hanging out with Killian in a text? That was very interesting. Though Belle wasn’t sure if that proved her theory or if Emma considered Killian a friend. She wasn’t sure which side to lean towards, but she did know that it took Emma quite a while to warm up to people and it was very clear that Emma warmed up to Killian very quickly. Too quickly, perhaps? Belle couldn’t say for sure. Careful of her words, Belle decided to pry.

Oh? What did you guys do?

Just watched a movie. Was Emma innocuous response.

“You have a look.” Ruby told her, munching on the finished bacon.

“What kind of look?” Belle asked as she texted Emma back.

Sounds like fun. What movie?

“The kind of look when you’re researching a paper and you’re starting to figure out what you’re writing.” Ruby explained. “You get the same look when you read a book and you piece together the plot before the end.”

Empire Strikes Back. You didn’t tell me he was such a geek! He quoted the whole movie!

That did get a laugh from Belle, who showed it to Ruby.

Ruby laughed too. “Just wait for when they both find out they’re Potterheads.”

“Ooh, I should throw that out there.” Belle said.

Just wait. Watch Prisoner of Azkaban with him.

Emma’s response was immediate. What?!!! He’s a Potterhead?!

Hufflepuff to boot.

“Yep, that got her attention.” Belle hummed.

Ruby narrowed her eyes. “You will tell me what you’re up to.”

“You will let it go.” Belle shot back.

“I could if I would but I can’t so I shan’t.” Ruby rhymed. “Should I annoy it out of you? After all sex and begging didn’t work, so I don’t have a lot to work with.”

“When did you beg?” Belle asked. “I clearly remember the sex, but I think I was begging you for more. You, however, didn’t beg.”

“Would begging work?” Ruby perked up.

“Nope.” Belle popped the ‘p’ and are the last bite of her breakfast.

“Please, please, please.” Ruby pouted.

“Nope.” Belle scurried back to their bedroom, Ruby hot on her heels.

Ruby tackled a giggling Belle onto the bed, attacking her with kisses. “Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

“Never.” Belle laughed, trying to wriggle away. “You’ll never break me!”

“Yes, I will!” Ruby cackled. “Victory will be mine!”

“Never!” Belle managed to roll Ruby off of her and grabbed a pillow. “Back off, monster!”

Ruby playfully snarled. “I’ll get you my pretty and your little pillow too!”

“I’m not even going to ask.” Killian’s voice surprised them both. They turned and saw Killian standing in the doorway of the bedroom, brow arched. Sweating and sporting running clothes, it was clear he had been on a run. “Sorry to interrupt, but Emma texted me to ask you both to a movie night at our apartment. Apparently neither of you were answering her.”

“I was busy attacking my girlfriend.” Ruby shrugged with a grin.

“I was busy defending myself with a pillow.” Belle explained.

Killian shook his head, before walking away. “Be at ours by seven!” He called back.

When they heard the door shut, the couple erupted into giggles.

“So we going?” Ruby asked.

Belle thought over her theory. Time to see if she was right. “Yep.”

Emma entered the apartment carrying a brown paper sack of wine bottles for movie night tonight. “Killian?”

Her roommate was no where to be seen, but Emma smelled food cooking in the empty kitchen.

Killian had insisted on making homemade pizzas tonight and from the looks of it, he was successful and the pizzas were cooking in the oven, the timer counting down until they were ready.

She went down the hall looking for the home chef. “Killian?”

Peaking in his room, she found that he wasn’t there either. When she turned around, she crashed into something hard, and hands landed on her hips, steadying her. Her eyes stayed forward, facing Killian’s bare chest, a hand instinctively rising up to rest over the wispy dark curls.

Killian breathed sharply, looking down at Emma, seeing her eyes glaze over as she stared at his chest. He swallowed hard, and spoke, if only to keep himself from making a mistake. “There was an issue with the pizza sauce. I had to get the stain out.”

She heard his words, but her mind was focused on how soft yet coarse his chest hair was against the palm of her hand, vividly recalling how it felt brushing against her that night.

“Emma?” Killian needed her to look up at him. If she didn’t, he was going to do something they’d probably regret.

Emma looked up, meeting his eyes, losing her breath at the intensity in them. They looked at each other, not speaking, breathing slowly as the air crackled between them. “Killian.” His name escaped her breathlessly.

Her lips were on his before either of them could form a conscious thought. A hand found itself behind his neck, pulling him closer. They stumbled back into Killian’s bedroom.

His hands tightened on her hips, pulling her closer, kissing her desperately. He had dreamed of this moment for a month, wishing that he could have her in his arms again and show her how he felt, and here she was kissing him. Emma was kissing him.

Emma didn't think as she ran her hands through his hair, pulling him to her, desperate to taste him. Her mouth opened for him, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

When Emma moaned into the kiss, Killian’s hands slipped under the hem of her shirt, finding her warm, bare skin, his fingers tenderly teasing a path along her spine. His lungs were burning for air, but he could care less as they fell onto his bed.

“Hey guys, we’re here!” Ruby called out. “We brought pie!”

Instantly, Emma pushed Killian off of her and stood up. Her breathing shaky, Emma knew that she must look flushed, and Ruby and Belle couldn’t find them like this. Especially with Killian still shirtless, on his bed, a noticeable bulge in his pants.

“Coming!” Emma called out. She looked back at Killian, who was staring up at the ceiling. Emma wasn’t sure if he was trying to calm himself, or if he couldn’t look at her. “Put a shirt on and wait a few minutes.” She told him quietly.

Killian swallowed. “As you wish.”

Emma tried not to read into his words as she headed to the bathroom to make sure she didn’t look like she didn’t just make out with her roommate.

Killian pushed himself off the bed and walked over to his dresser, grabbing the first t-shirt he could. Once he pulled it on, he looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. What the hell did he just do?

Screw everything up, that’s what.

“Hey.” Ruby knocked on the doorframe as she entered the room.

Killian turned towards her. “Hey.”

“You okay?” Ruby asked.

“Fine.” Killian ran a hand through his hair. “What’s up?”

A nervous expression crossed Ruby’s face. “Well, I have some news.”

“Bad news?” He asked, noting her tone.

“Not bad.” Ruby shrugged. “I’m just not sure how you’ll take it.”

That was enough to make Killian wary, his emotions already all over the place after what just happened with Emma. “Just rip the bandaid off then.”

Ruby took a breath. “Mary Margaret called.”

He stiffened up, anxiety throwing itself into his tumultuous emotions. “Oh?”

“She’s pregnant.”

It was as though his entire body was shocked by static electricity. His best friends were going to have a baby. Ex-best friends. Who’s fault is that? Killian shook his head lightly. “That’s…great.”

“She wanted you to know.” Ruby continued. “They miss you.”

That was just another punch to the gut. He didn’t want to hear about how people missed him; he didn’t deserve it.

“Pizza’s ready!” Emma called out.

Killian was glad for the interruption. He wasn’t keen to have the conversation that would inevitably follow. Killian left the room, Ruby trailing behind.

As he entered the living room, his eyes automatically found Emma.

Her eyes flicked to him, before focusing on her pizza.

His heart ached at the thought of Emma avoiding him, because he screwed up.

Isn’t that what you always do? You always ruin everything.

Killian put on a smile and greeted Belle, before grabbing pizza and a glass of wine, wishing it was rum.

It was going to be a long night.

Emma tried hard to focus on the movie, but her eyes kept finding Killian.

He had opted to sit in his armchair while they watched the movie; Belle and Ruby were curled up together on one side of the couch, leaving the rest of the couch for Emma.

It was clear to her that he hadn’t paid any attention to the movie at all, lost in his own thoughts. There were no comments made on his part, his eyes staring off into space.

Emma wasn’t any better, not talking at all, worried about him and what she had done. God, she had fucked up big time.

Belle and Ruby seemed to pick up on the tension too, trying to make funny and snarky comments and trying and failing to get Emma and Killian to participate. This was supposed to be a night of hanging out and having a good time, but it was all too tense.

Eventually, Ruby and Belle fell quiet as well.

Belle was looming between Emma and Killian, wondering if something had happened before she and Ruby arrived since Killian was brooding and Emma kept sending him nervous looks.

Ruby was too focused on Killian to notice Emma’s demeanor. She shouldn’t have told him about Mary Margaret’s news. Even five years later, he still didn’t date, because of Milah and now finding out his friends were having a baby was bound to throw him back into memories of how things ended with Milah.

No one really noticed the movie was ending until the credits rolled.

Killian excused himself quickly, leaving for the bathroom.

The girls began the clean up.

“What’s up with Killian?” Belle asked Emma, hoping for some insight.

Emma looked panicked at the question, which confirmed for Belle that something had definitely happened earlier tonight.

“It’s my fault.” Ruby groaned.

Both Emma and Belle looked at her surprised.

“I told Killian some news.” Ruby said. “Some old friends from Storybrooke are having a baby.”

“Isn’t that good news?” Emma asked.

“It is, and on some level Killian is probably happy for them.” Ruby sighed. “There was just this thing that happened before he left.”

“Milah?” Belle questioned. Belle knew the bare minimum about the Milah story since Killian didn’t like talking about it and Ruby was wary of the subject as well.

Ruby grimaced. “Yeah.”

“Wait, who’s Milah?” Emma hadn’t heard of her before, but then again, she and Killian barely knew each other. Plus, it’s not like either tried very hard to get to know each other.

Ruby glanced down the hall. She turned back to Emma and whispered. “Killian’s ex. It was a scandalous thing for a small town.”

“Why?” Emma asked, surprising herself.

Ruby hesitated, again looking down the hall to make sure Killian wasn’t listening. “Milah was old enough to be Killian’s mother. In fact, she had a son that was just a year older than us. To top that off, she was married and her husband was the wealthiest man in town.”

Emma grimaced. Even without knowing more than that, anyone could tell that that was a love story where a happy ending was guaranteed never to happen. “Do I want to know how this ends?”

“Well, Killian left town five years ago, doesn’t date or have friends outside of us, and can’t even call his own brother or best friends.” Ruby listed off. “So, no, you really don’t want to know.”

If it was what drove Killian to isolate himself and protect his heart, Emma could understand that. After Neal, after jail, she drifted around for years working thankless jobs with long hours and returning to cheap, shitty apartments. Then she came to Boston and had trouble with the law, and Cleo found her and took a chance on her.

Yet, even after these past couple of years with Cleo mentoring her, Ruby and Belle as her friends, Emma still tried to keep a wall up between them and her. Being alone was something that she had learned to live with a long time ago. Trusting others just wasn’t something that she did, even with her friends.

It seemed that she and Killian had more similarities than she realized. There was an unspoken understanding between them, something that told them that they knew why the other was the way that they were.

“Wait, why would news that his friends are having a baby upset Killian?” Belle asked, her brows furrowed.

Ruby’s eyes widened with worry as if she said too much. “It’s just a reminder. You know, of how he’s missing out, because he thinks he deserves it or something.”

Emma narrowed her eyes, knowing that Ruby was lying. There was something else going on.

“We should go.” Ruby said.

Belle looked ready to protest, but Ruby was already gathering her things. Belle turned to Emma. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Emma crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to flush as the kiss with Killian came to the forefront of her mind.

The other woman didn’t look convinced. “I just thought that maybe something happened before Ruby and I came over.”

This time Emma couldn’t stop herself from being flustered. “No, no, nothing happened. We’re good. It’s all good.”

Belle made a noncommittal sound, but said nothing more as she turned away and headed to the door where Ruby was waiting.

Emma let them out and they said their goodbyes. As soon as she shut the door, Emma banged her head against the wood and groaned loudly.

Not only did she fuck things up completely with Killian, but now Belle suspected something.

Great, just great. What am I going to do now?

He hated the look that was staring back at him in the mirror. That haunted, sad, wounded look that made him feel like he was a kid again.

Killian scrubbed a hand over his face. His emotions were all over the place and he had no idea how to process everything.

When he thought about the fact that Mary Margaret was pregnant, that she and David were going to be parents, he was truly happy for them. It was just hard to hear. After what happened with Milah…Killian had been young, he still was, but he was willing to step up and be the man that Milah needed.

Be the father that he needed to be.

Then Milah decided it all for them. No more baby, and no more relationship.

It had been hell, the looks the he got in the streets, people who pitied him, people who looked down on him. Liam always lecturing him, his friends constantly trying to advise him, Gold lurking around with silent threats.

He wanted to go home, but as long as Gold and Milah were there, he couldn’t heal from the scars she left on his heart, and he didn’t want anyone to suffer Gold’s wrath just by associating with him. Gold hadn’t done anything before Killian left, but there were warnings. Warnings that no one else had to know about.

No, he couldn’t go home again.

Then there was Emma.

She kissed him. He kissed her back. It was everything that he had hoped for since she had left him that night.

Killian could still feel her lips against his; how soft and pliant they were, how aggressive. There was so much passion within her; she left her mark on him, that was for sure. Even though she kissed him, Killian was worried that he might’ve pushed her. He had been so careful to keep his distance and give her the space that she needed, but now, he might’ve scared her off.

Things were beginning to go well with her. They were becoming friends and learning to live with each other.

With that kiss, Killian felt a sense of dread at the thought of Emma retreating behind her armor and pushing him away. The last thing he wanted was for her to avoid him again; for either of them to be uncomfortable. He had no idea how to fix this.

An apology was a good start, but what if Emma didn’t accept it? What if she didn’t want to hear what he had to say?

Why did she even kiss him in the first place?

Killian closed his eyes, a headache growing in his temples. It was all too much to think about. He rubbed at his head, leaving the bathroom.

He checked the living room to find the girls gone. Hopefully, Emma was still here. Killian walked back to her room, finding the door shut. His hand came up to knock, but he hesitated. Would she answer if he knocked? Would she give him a chance to talk to her?

He stared at the door for a moment longer, before backing away. With a sigh, he decided to give them both time.

They could talk about it in the morning.

#captain swan #cs ff #cs au #life just got complicated #ljgc

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talesofapyrrhicwriter · 6 years

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I got tagged by @confessionsofafulltimenerd and @teh-random-irish-chick! Thank you! Name: Alyssa. On most sites I go by WritingBookworm, but if that's not taken, then I'll fall back on PyrrhicWriter or something among the lines of that, since that one's never taken. Nicknames: Writing, usually. I don't have a nickname for my real name, Alyssa feels right. Zodiac sign: Cancer. I get to share my sign with a disease. *Jazz hands* Height: Either 5'6" or 5'7" Orientation: I thiiink I'm heterosexual. I say I think because I might be gray-aromantic. I'm still figuring it out tbh. Favorite fruit: Watermelon Favorite season: Spring Favorite book: Chaos Walking, but no one knows what that is, so I usually just say Harry Potter. Honorable mentions go to And I Darken, the Lunar Chronicles, the Six of Crows Duology, Hunted, and Sleeping Giants. The Shatter Me Trilogy could also be on this list when I'm done with it. Favorite scent: Old books. I would, like, willingly get high on the smell of old books, it's bad. Favorite color: Four way tie between red, blue, silver, and black. Favorite animal: Dragons. Dragons make everything better. When I want to make something better I literally put dragons in it. Coffee | tea | hot cocoa: Out of these, hot cocoa is the only thing I can drink. Well, I can have herbal tea, but I'm not a big fan of that. Average hours of sleep: Anywhere from 6-9. Cat or dog person: Dogs, aboso-friggin'-lutely. Favorite fictional characters: . . . Do you really want me to get into this? I guess we're getting into this. We have no choice but to get into this. For the sake of time, I'll just list off some fandom favorite characters, discounting any of my OCs. Ones immediately coming to mind are Zuko, Katara, Azula, Terra from Teen Titans, Xion, Roxas, Axel, Aqua, Lara Croft, Princess Zelda, Jellal Fernandes, Erza Scarlet, Sakura Haruno, Kabuto Yakushi, Joshua Kiryu, Linh Cinder, Rey, Poe Dameron, Kylo Ren/Ben Solo, Darth Vader, Han Solo, Princess Leia, Padme Amidala, Luna Lovegood, Emma Swan, Neal Cassidy/Baelfire, Tommy Merlyn, Leonard Snart, Sara Lance, Thea Queen, Todd Hewitt, Viola Eade, Mayor Prentiss, Lada Dracul, Aaron Warner, Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Karolina Dean, Heather Chandler, JD, Dmitri, The Mysterious Interviewer in Sleeping Giants, and I think I'm gonna stop there before I get any more carried away. Number of blankets you sleep with: 1 Dream trip: I've been DYING to go to New York City. It's also been a dream of mine to go to Shibuya, Japan, ever since playing The World Ends With You. Blog created: July 2012, though I didn't start actively reblogging things until years later. Only a year or so ago did people start to pay attention to said things I've been reblogging. Number of followers: 72, but we've got pornbots. Discounting those, I think the actual number falls around 67 or so. Random fact: I like swords. Swords also make everything better. Lots of the people I want to tag got tagged already, but there's some people that haven't been tagged, so I'll hunt down the rest of my friends. I tag @how-to-train-your-writer, @ghouliere, @anowlofthenight, @salpphie, @athenalionheart. You don't have to do it if you don't want to, but if you do, hey! You've been tagged.

#tag game

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cianmars · 7 years

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Kiddo Chapter 21 Moodboard

FF.net Mary Margaret has to try and get her stubborn husband and daughter to stay in bed with their colds, David and Emma have very different ideas...

Emma woke up cuddled up on her dad’s chest, it moved slowly up and down, even with her upon it. She could smell his aftershave faintly on his t-shirt, and skin, despite not having put it on for a few days, and the faint smell of something which she could only now associate with the Enchanted Forest, what he had smelt like there, it was one of the same smells that her blanket had always smelt like. It was comforting on her blanket, it was why she always liked to have it near her, she knew she was safe in her dad’s arms. She realised that she didn’t even take up all of the length David’s chest. She just snuggled closer to him, feeling a weird mixture of an adult and a child, well… the child she had never got to be.

She looked over at her mother who was reclined back against several pillows with Neal asleep on her chest, obviously her baby brother had fallen asleep while feeding, and Snow must have fallen back asleep along with him. Emma didn’t want to admit it to herself, or anyone else, but she felt a little jealous of the bond her mother and brother got to have – it was one they had never got to have or would, in all likelihood, ever get to have. She fidgeted on David’s chest, as she continued watching her mother and brother sleep.

David felt a baby fidgeting on his chest, with his eyes still closed he thought that it was Neal, but there was too much fidgeting which is when he opened his eyes and realised it was his older baby. He stroked his hand through Emma’s hair, making her look up at him with her chin resting on his chest. There was just enough light for him to see her adorable little face staring up at him. “Hey, kiddo, how you feeling?”

“I’m bored.”

David chuckled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I meant how’s your cold?” Emma opened her mouth to answer but David quickly interrupted. “And before you tried to deny anything, I’ll remind you that you’re going to be resting anyway, and that I can hear your voice.” He gave her a knowing look and saw how sheepish she looked in response. He chuckled again and kissed her head again. “That bad, huh?”

“Better than I felt in the hospital.” Emma admitted. She looked down at the lion toy which had stayed firmly in her arms, along with her blanket, as she slept and even as she woke. She started to move around the soft toy, making its arms and legs move and its head.

David watched her moving about the toy, he could tell that something was on her mind and that she’d say it when she thought through it, but even if she wasn’t having to think about something it was adorable watching her take comfort in the toy he bought her.

“…. Thank you for finding me…” She mumbled. “…You didn’t have to, put erm, you did, so like, thanks.”

David frowned, and sat up more as he thought about how to word his feelings, he hated that she even felt the need to thank him for doing what literally any moral human would do, let alone that she thought that he didn’t have to. “Oh, kiddo, Em. I did have to. You’re my daughter, I love you, I would do anything for you – and I’ll always find you, no matter how far away you are, or whether you want me to find you or not.” He placed his hand on the back of her head and gently pulled her so that she was cuddled close to his chest again.

Emma opened her hand up enough so that she could cling onto David’s pyjama sweatshirt as well as her lion and blanket. “Love you daddy.” She mumbled against his chest.

“I love you to the moon and back.” David responded hearing her call him that, in conjunction, with the words made his heart melt.

Emma stayed with her head against his chest for a few beats before she looked up at him once more, pouting a little. “I’m bored.” She repeated.

David sighed sympathetically. “I know, but we can’t get out of the bed, you’re sick.” He watched as Emma’s face fell, he felt bad when he saw how disappointed she looked, he glanced over at Mary Margaret and saw that she was still peacefully asleep and would probably remain so for several hours – it had been a long few months- he looked back at Emma and ran his hand through her hair to get her to look back at him. “But, I mean, we do have to do all your medicines still, and mine I guess… and I’m sure you’re hungry, so we could get some cereal too, we may as well eat it on the couch.” He watched her gasp with excitement, he tried to not smile at her kid like way of acting that morning, he just rolled with it as he and Mary Margaret had decided. “I mean, only if you want to, I don’t wanna force you.” He couldn’t stop himself from smiling and looking amused. He quickly put his finger over his mouth before Emma got too excited. His eyes darted to Mary Margaret. “Shhh, we have to be quiet, we don’t wanna wake mommy.”

Emma copied him, putting her finger on her lips, she nodded her head in agreement and whispered. “Yeah, mommy needs to sleep.” She was starting to realise that she had begun to copy calling David and Mary Margaret ‘Daddy and Mommy’, but she didn’t mind, she had been referring to them as that to Neal before she deaged anyway, plus David and Mary Margaret didn’t care if she called them that so she would carry on calling them that until he told her otherwise.

“Okay, let’s go then kiddo,” He collected her into his arms, grabbed her Nemo hoodie from the chair beside the bed and put it onto her. “You got your special things?”

Emma looked at him, she made sure that he wasn’t teasing her, then down at the soft toy lion and her blanket in her hands, she nodded her head. “I got them.”

“Good girl.“ David smiled warmly at her and grabbed his own hoodie, he slipped it on, then stood up with her in his arms. He gently pulled the blanket so it was covering Mary Margaret and Neal a little better, before padding out of the room with Emma still in his arms. “Medicine first then I dump you onto the couch, or I dump you onto the couch then I grab your medicine?”

“Couch first.” Emma decided after a brief deliberation.

“Good choice.” David nodded and walked over to the couch, he sat her down onto the couch and covered her up with the throw, Mary Margaret had already set the heat to turn up automatically at about 5am but David turned it up a little more now that they were both awake. “You find us something to watch, anything you want, I’ll be back in a moment with your medicines.”

“And yours.”

David smiled at her reminding him, he had been planning to take his out in the kitchen but he figured that there wasn’t much difference with him taking it in front of Emma, to try and make a good example in taking it without complaining. “And mine.”

As David disappeared to get the medicines and drinks Emma went to grab the remote from the coffee table where it usually was but it wasn’t there, she turned her head looking around the living room for it, she spotted the remote on top of one of the tallboys beside the couch where she was sat. She stood up on the couch but when she couldn’t reach despite how hard she tried to stretch with her arm up towards it. She dropped back to sit on the couch with a small frown and pout.

David came back through to the living room, he had figured that it would be easier to place everything on one of the very ugly trays Regina had cursed Mary Margaret to own, he saw that Emma was frowning and her things and the throw were to one side. He placed the tray down on the table and crouched in front of her. “Did you try to wander off and avoid your medicine?” He raised his eyebrow as he spoke.

Emma shook her head, seriously, despite the pout on her face. “No. I was tryna get the stupid remote but it’s too high.” She pointed up at where it had been abandoned.

David’s eyes followed Emma’s finger to where it was pointing. He smiled at Emma and nodded his head. “I’ll grab that for you in a moment, let’s just get this medicine done.”

“You first.” She said determinedly, she crossed her arms over her chest as best she could with her cast still on her arm, and pouted at the sight of the inhaler and spacer along with the other medicine.

David quickly took two of the cold and flu tablets with some juice from his own glass, at least his was tablets, it wasn’t like it had a bad taste or a weird one like Emma’s did. “Okay, I took mine, now it’s your turn.” He told her, giving her a look to show her that he was supporting her but that she couldn’t just get out of it.

They made quick work of her inhaler, and although she complained a little, she otherwise took her medicine fairly quickly – mainly at the promise of being given the remote so she could watch whatever she wanted. David passed her the cup of juice to get rid of the taste of medicine in her mouth, as he was twisting the cap back onto the bottle, Emma lifted the small plastic cup to her lips to drink the strawberry juice, but as she drank she managed to spill half of the drink down her pyjamas, luckily avoiding her lion and blanket as well as the throw.

David saw Emma tipping the drink down herself but wasn’t fast enough to be able to stop her pyjamas from getting soaked. He watched her bottom lip start to wobble as he took the empty cup from her. He stood up, and picked her up into his arms, she hid her head against his shoulder, her wet pyjamas were soaking into his own pyjama top but he didn’t care.

“Sorry.” Emma sniffled.

“Hey,” David soothed as he picked up the tray of thing and carried it to the kitchen, “it’s okay, it was just an accident. You probably needed to be changed anyway, right?”

Emma’s cheeks tinged with pink not so much at David knowing that she needed a new pull up on, but that he had noticed and she hadn’t.

David kissed the top of her head knowing she was probably embarrassed by both things, but it was just one of those things, David and Mary Margaret had no problems at all helping her with anything she needed. “It’s okay.” He walked into the bathroom and placed her down and knelt in front of her. “Em, honestly it’s okay, it’s not a big deal.”

Emma looked up at him and nodded but sniffled a couple more times. “I didn’t mean to it just kinda was too hard to control.”

David nodded his head in understanding. “It was just an accident. Here, let’s get you out of those wet jammies then I’ll quickly grab you some clean things.” As he helped her out of her pyjamas, leaving her in her pull up and vest, he spoke carefully to her. “Maybe it would be easier for you to use that sippy cup Mary Margaret found yesterday?” He suggested wrapping a big fluffy towel around her. “It’s not like Neal needs it just yet, it was just in some gift set, and we get let off bed rest we can get some of your own, you can choose whatever style or patterns you want and feel most comfortable with.”

Emma bit her lip, feeling drowned and vulnerable wrapped in the fluffy towel with her dad still trying to make sure she had some choices in her life. She nodded her head. “Okay.”

David gave a loving smile at her quiet approval, he kissed her curls which had been made crazier with sleep, before he gathered her wet pyjamas and stood up. “I’ll be back in a minute, I’ll just be in the bedroom, I know your mommy left some bits for you in there. If you need me shout.” He waited for her to nod again before he quickly left the room.

He threw the pyjamas into the machine, along with his own damp shirt, then dashed into the bedroom. Before long he was back in the bathroom, with a new pyjama shirt on, and a new pullup and diaper rash cream, an undershirt, and pyjamas for Emma. “Okay, kiddo, let’s get you changed then we can have some breakfast.” He made quick work of changing the diaper, having Neal had given him the ability to quickly change diapers, though Neal’s were normally quick so the baby didn’t try to pee on him (David was sure he did it on purpose and only on him never Snow), this time it was to make Emma not feel quite as embarrassed.

Emma looked down at the pullups as David switched her undershirt for a clean one. “Dory?”

David took a second to realise that Emma was on about the pullup. “Oh, sorry, I just grabbed one from our wardrobe. We got some, well I got them, two packs I figured that it’d be easier to get you to wear this one or the other depending on which age you felt. Sorry, I didn’t even think, do you want me to run up to your room and grab a different pair or are these okay for now?”

Emma shrugged her shoulders still looking down at them. “These are okay, you don’t have to go get different ones.” She actually rather liked Finding Dory since she had seen it, she had watched it with her parents so they knew how much she actually liked it, even if she pretended otherwise. “It has the purple shells on it.”

David smiled, he pulled the long-sleeved pyjama top over her head, it was yellow and had a circle of dark blue with a rocket on it and the words space on it. “It does. I like that bit of the movie, where Dory finds her parents, it reminds me of how happy I was when I opened the door and found you there when you came back from New York. These purple shells stay purple if it’s dry.”

Emma let David put the pyjama pants on her, they were blue like the circle on the top, but were covered in white constellations. “What if they don’t stay dry?”

David shrugged making sure that she was aware that it was no big deal. “Then me or your mother will change you, just let us know, we don’t want you getting diaper rash.”

Emma looked a little worried as David picked her up in his arms again, he dumped the pullup into the bin in the bathroom, they were back into the living room by the time she spoke. “What if I don’t let you know? If I… can’t?” David looked down at her intently as he sat her down on the couch again and covered her in the throw. “I didn’t, couldn’t, really tell when I…” She trailed off awkwardly, “I had trouble learning how to, erm, to be potty trained.”

He saw her cheeks tinged pink and he brushed a curl from her face. “Is this because you’re so small?” He asked her kindly, she nodded her head, obviously embarrassed. “That’s okay, it’s not your fault, Em. Did you have any other,” he purposely searched for a word other than problem, “difficulties, or challenges?”

“A couple of different things, I guess, like I’m sure you’ve noticed my speech isn’t always too good at saying some words and stuff…”

David smiled gently, he and Mary Margaret had noticed that her ‘r’s sounded a little more like ‘w’s, and sometimes she substituted different letters for ones in words – they had worried a little bit but when they had looked into a couple of the parenting and baby books they got when they had gotten back to Storybrooke they had found it was common in younger kids. “That’s okay kiddo, me and your mother can understand you still, and we’ll help you in any way you need.”

“Thanks daddy.”

“No thanks necessary.” David told her sincerely. He gently tapped her bright yellow cast with a smile at her. “Hey, guess what? You get to get this off soon, that’ll make it easier when you have baths, you won’t have to have use reminding you to keep it out of the water.”

Emma smiled but then looked worried. “Will it be scary?” “If it is you’ll have me and mommy right there with you.” He told her, he had never actually broken a bone in this realm so he wasn’t actually sure what the standard practice was, but he knew no matter what Emma would probably be scared of the hospital. “Now, Cap’n Crunch or Lucky Charms?”

“Lucky Charms.”

David smirked. “Are you sure, I managed to convince Mary Margaret to get the peanut butter Cap’n Crunch.” he saw the amused look on her face and rolled his eyes good naturedly, “Okay, I smuggled them in when she wasn’t looking, but she didn’t give me too much grief about them.”

“Lucky Charms have marshmallows in them.”

David rolled his eyes, in his mind Cap’n Crunch were at least a little healthier, especially considering that Emma normally just picked the marshmallows out. “Worth a shot.” He kissed her forehead and stood up.

“Whatever I want?” She asked when the remote was placed into her hands.

“Whatever you want, just no chick flicks, I beg you.”

~OUAT~

David grabbed a normal bowl and a plastic one, the ones they had gotten which would be easier for Emma to hold, not just because she had broken her arm. He figured that if Emma was having Lucky Charms then he may as well have them too, at least he thought about being healthy, plus his had milk on them which was healthy in his eyes. He opened the fridge and grabbed one of the bottle of the PediaSure chocolate milk, there were a couple of other flavours but he figured this one would go down the best. He poured it into the sippy cup, he was about to make himself some coffee but his eyes flickered to his and his wife’s bedroom, he knew she wasn’t going to be happy about he and Emma not adhering to the bed part of bed rest. He topped up his juice instead, better to play that part on the safe side, and not completely worry his wife.

When he walked back over to her with the food and drinks Emma was sat where he left her, the remote was pointed at the screen, but this time the screen was playing something. It took David a few seconds to register that it was cartoons on the screen. He watched Emma’s eyes flickered to him so he gave her a small smile. “Do you want to watch this?” David asked carefully.

“I…” Emma shrugged her shoulders as she trailed off.

“Okay.” David said cheerfully. He settled down onto the couch beside her, he was a little surprised when Emma moved and sat on his lap without taking her eyes from the screen, when she was comfortable he passed her the smaller bowl of Lucky Charms which he knew better than to put any milk onto. “Comfy?” He asked and smiled as she nodded. “Good. What’s this show then?”

“It’s called Recess.” Emma told him, she quickly launched into an explanation about the show and what it was about, and how she had found a channel doing a marathon of older cartoons from the early 2000’s.

“Do you think that this is what your mommy’s school is like?” David asked her, he knew that she was the Emma who was the Emma whose past he knew… well knew some of… but it was like she was a combination of an adult and a little kid, especially with the enthusiasm she was talking about some cartoons with, and how she giggled at his joke.

“Maybe.” She had been wolfing down her cereal but she was clearly finished. She moved to cuddle closer to David, she felt him holding onto her to make sure that she wasn’t about to fall off the couch as he leant forward to place their bowls down and passed her drink. “Do you think mommy’s going to go back to being a teacher?”

David was still getting used to Emma suddenly feeling comfortable enough to call he and Mary Margaret mommy and daddy, something which would probably have been normal in the Enchanted Forest and even if it hadn’t been they would have been cool with it, so the childish sounding question threw him for a second. “Hmm, I’m not sure.” And he wasn’t. She was still getting recovering from having Neal, and that he was safe, that nothing was going to happen to take him from her, as well as the whole situation with Emma which neither of them were sure how it would culminate, but then he also knew that she genuinely loved teaching. “How would you feel if she did?”

“If… If I’m still like this?” Emma asked, knowing there was a possibility of that, and received a hesitant nod. She wiggled her mouth from side to side as she thought. She sipped her chocolate milk smiling a little at the perfect taste, she couldn’t remember her mom ever buying chocolate milk, so she figured that it was the PediaSure drink- she remembered the off-brand versions she would sometimes be fortunate enough to be bought, though those were normally instead of meals. “She liked it, likes it, teaching kids.”

“But?”

Emma wasn’t sure that there was a but until David asked that she figured what it was which was in the back of her mind. “I’d miss her, lots, and I wouldn’t like not really seeing her or you.”

“I would miss working with you, it might not happen, but if it did your mom and I would make sure that we weren’t working too much. We already have a couple of people helping us out, I’ll hire more people to work there even if you change back. We’ll have more time together as a family, you won’t ever be without at least one of us at some point, we’ll juggle everything about but I can promise you that much.”

“I guess I can live with that.” Emma stated cuddling closer to him. “I mean, for Neal, he’d miss you.”

“I’d miss Neal too, and you, but I’d make sure that I’m mostly with my two favourite people in the world.” He watched her raise her eyebrow. “Your mommy’s a close third, she doesn’t mind, she feels the same – you and Neal are joint first no matter what.” He felt her cuddle closer but her attention was then captivated by the new cartoon starting. He chuckled as he spotted the cartoon version of his wife in the opening of House of Mouse, and was relieved to see the rather useless Disney version of himself was missing.

He knew that they should probably both get back to bed, but Emma was actually watching a cartoon while cuddled up to him and he was reluctant for that to end, they were still resting they were just on the couch. He swivelled around so that his legs were up on the couch and he was reclined as much as he could be in the limited space. They’d move soon, they just had some cartoons to watch before they did.

~OUAT~

Mary Margaret didn’t mean to sleep for as long as she did, but with her husband and daughter tucked safely beside her, and a baby sleeping on her chest, she was very comfortable. She woke up slowly, feeling Neal still asleep on her she kissed the top of his head as she opened her eyes and slowly turned her head toward David’s side of the bed, she gasped and her eyes widened when she didn’t see Emma asleep on David’s chest like she expected to. The bed was empty.

“No. No, no, no.” She felt her heart stop as she thought that Emma had run away again and David had gone to find her. She stood up on autopilot, she placed Neal into his bassinet beside the bed as fast but as safe as possible, then raced out to the main part of the loft to find her phone to be able to ring and try and find out where the hell her husband and daughter were.

Her hands were trembling as she raced to the kitchen island to grab her phone, she was already starting to dial David’s number, when she finally realised that the television. She sprinted over and saw David and Emma cuddled up asleep lying on the couch with some kids cartoons playing.

Her fear was gone, replaced with a brief relief, then frustration at the pair. They were meant to be staying in bed, but more importantly she thought they had gone, that Emma and/or David were missing and hurt, at the very least. She leant down and poked David’s shoulder.

David’s eyes flickered open and was met with his wife’s very displeased face, a face he was sadly only too familiar, it was even worse this time as it was turned onto him. “…Mary Margaret…” His voice was a little crackly from his own cold and it was slurred with sleep. He felt his daughter waking on his chest.

“You’re both going back to bed.” She said firmly without realising that it came off a little cold, taking Emma who was now awake into her arms, she started to walk to the bedroom with David trailing behind.

“…Mommy?” Emma’s voice was just as crackly and slurred as David’s was, but worry filled her at Mary Margaret’s tone, she also felt bad that she had been the one to convince David to let them both to get up.

Mary Margaret took a deep breath. “Emma, this isn’t up for debate or discussion, and right now I just need for you to listen to me and do as I say. I’m very disappointed in both of you, you’re both meant to be on bed rest because you’re ill and it’s a miracle that you’re not still in the hospital with hypothermia or worse. So I really, really, recommend that you just do as I say without talking.”

Emma shrunk into herself, it stung to know that her mother was disappointed in her, she didn’t say a word even as Mary Margaret placed her into the bed and piled blankets onto her.

Mary Margaret left without saying another word, she needed to take a minute, but she was almost certain that David would follow her but she’d much rather that than Emma following her.

Emma fidgeted in the bed, she wanted the blanket and lion which had been left on the couch, but didn’t want to say it. She wanted to be better and to be able to go out, she kind of wanted to go to the park and play on the swings, she wanted to watch cartoons with her dad again, and to introduce her mother and brother to the cartoons she and David had been watching – but most of all she didn’t want her mom to be disappointed or upset with her.

David watched the curtain ‘door’ shut again behind his irate wife. He looked at Emma and gave her a sympathetic smile, before he placed his hand onto her head as a sign of comfort, though it did little to help. “It’s okay Em.”

“I’m sorry, it’s my fault, I made you get out of bed.” She mumbled a quick but sincere apology.

David shook his head. “You didn’t make me do anything. I’m your daddy, and we were resting, just…” He sighed. “Just stay here while me and Mary Margaret talk, we’ll both be back in a few minutes, I promise.”

~OUAT~

“Go back to bed David.” Mary Margaret said firmly when she heard her husband’s footsteps leaving the bedroom heading towards her. She didn’t bother to turn around from where she stood in the kitchen to face him as she spoke.

“Mary Margaret?” He sighed as she ignored him. “Mary Margaret. Snow.”

Mary Margaret sighed in frustration but finally turned around. “What?” She felt a little bad when she realised how venomous she sounded but David already started to speak so she couldn’t take it back no matter how much she wanted to or felt bad about it.

“I’m sorry I scared you. It was my choice to let Emma get out bed because she looked so disappointed when I said that we had to rest, I didn’t think of how worried you would be after yesterday, and I shouldn’t have let Emma get out of bed before you were awake…”

“But?”

David took a deep breath. “But…” He took a few steps closer to Mary Margaret and took hold of her hands it was a good sign when she didn’t shake him off or step away. “I made sure Emma was resting, she didn’t even take a single step, I carried her the entire time, and resting on the couch is just as good as the bed. I know that it was worrying, and I am sorry for worrying you… but I made sure she had her medicine, and gave her some breakfast, changed her diaper, and her pyjamas when she spilt her juice down herself, I even gave her one of those PediaSure shakes and got her to drink it in the sippy cup without kicking up a fuss because she can’t properly control the little plastic cup. We were only a room away from you.” He gave her his loving but firm smile. “I’m her parent too. I would never put her in danger, you trust me so trust that I would always look after her, I didn’t do anything wrong other than scare you.”

Mary Margaret gave a big sigh, then gave him a nod and looked down, disappointed in herself. Emma was just as much his child as she was hers, he was an amazing father to her daughter no matter Emma’s age, she shouldn’t have taken her fear out on him. She glanced over at the closed curtains and bit her lip, it was only now that she was calming herself that she realised how she had spoken to Emma, she needed to talk to her again.

David gently moved and tipped her chin back to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

Mary Margaret sighed gently, she wrapped her arms around his waist, and he responded in kind, she leant up on her tiptoes and kissed his lips gently. “I’m sorrier. I should have checked the other rooms before I started to freak out, I just assumed the worst after yesterday… but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you or Emma.” She managed to hold off at least a few seconds before asking her husband how their daughter seemed to him that day. He, of course, told her how she was health wise, but Mary Margaret knew her husband was thinking of how to tell her something, so she just watched him and let him figure it out.

“She’s…” he sighed as he searched for the right words, his hand rubbed the back of his neck, and he sighed again. “She’s changing. She’s like a mixture of the two Emma’s. She keeps calling the two of us mommy and daddy, and wanted to watch cartoons, and then told me all about them. She won’t put the lion toy I got her down, or her baby blanket… she seemed rather uneasy when you put her to bed without them.” He smirked when she looked a little guilty at his mock accusatory tone, even when annoyed she wouldn’t have left them on the couch had she known how attached to them Emma had become.

“We’ll have to remember to grab it for her before we go join her again.” There was no way that she was going to forget that if it made Emma feel more comfortable. “It was pretty adorable, seeing you two cuddled up… did she really pick cartoons?”

David grinned his charming smile, the one which still made her legs go weak. “Yeah…She also asked if you were ever going to go back to being a teacher too, even if she stays a little kid.” Her eyebrows shot up at that. “I told her that you enjoy it, so you might one day. But if that happens that we’re going to make sure that at least one of us are always with her and Neal. And that we’d make time to be together as a family… if Emma stays the size she is…”

“Or becomes more like a little kid.” Mary Margaret finished. They were silent for a minute. “David?”

His wife’s voice was barely above a whisper and he didn’t have to ask what her question was going to be, he felt the same, but he asked regardless. “Yes dear?”

“What do we do if Emma changes into a child completely.”

David had been wondering the exact same thing especially as he and Emma watched the cartoons. He could tell that Mary Margaret was trying not to worry, he knew her as well as he knew himself, she needed to be given a plan. “I guess… I guess we just finally get to raise her. If it does happen Regina will have shown us Emma’s fake memories, so at least she won’t feel hurt that we don’t know what she’s talking about, we’ll adapt the loft because Emma’s already a hell raiser so can you imagine how much trouble she’d be if she’s this size and a kid?” He smirked and let out a breath of laughter but was glad to see her give a small smile. “If you want to work part time, or full time, or be a stay at home mom, or I want to do any of that, we’ll sort it out later. We can do this. But, but maybe Regina will find something, or Belle, or Gold. Or even Blue.” That bit sounded stronger in his head. “We can do this, together, as a family.”

“We always do.” She leant up and gently kissed his lips and placed her hand upon his chest. “We need to get you to bed, you’re sick too, but just let me talk to Emma first? Please?”

“Of course.” David agreed, she started to walk back to the room, but David quickly took hold of her hand pulling her back to him. “I’m guessing Emma and I aren’t going to be allowed out of bed again today?”

She gave him a patient smile. “You can tomorrow.” She quickly grabbed the lion and blanket from the couch, and passed David, she headed into the bedroom through the curtains which hung closed.

~OUAT~

Mary Margaret almost ran into Emma as she entered the master bedroom. Instead of lying in the bed where she had been left, Emma was stood at Neal’s crib, she looked up at Mary Margaret sheepishly when she realised that she was there.

“I… I’m sorry.” Emma mumbled, she didn’t want to let her mother down any more than she had by getting out of the bed in the first place. She bit her lip and fidgeted, looking up at her mom as though she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, and she felt as young as she looked. “Nealy woke up, and you and daddy were still talking, I was just talking to him, I’m sorry for getting out of bed again.”

Mary Margaret frowned realising that Emma really thought that she was angry with her. She crouched down in front of Emma, she placed the toy and blanket under her arm and gently took hold of Emma��s hands so she could keep her attention. “I’m not mad sweetie. Emma, you don’t have anything to apologise for, I do. I was just scared when I didn’t wake up with you beside me, I thought that you had disappeared again,” she held her hand up to stop Emma from apologising again, “it’s okay you don’t have to apologise again.”

She gently picked her daughter up and carried her over to sit on her lap on the bed so that she was facing her. She handed Emma her lion and blanket before brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Sweetie, you know when Neal was born and Zelena took him, and then it was very hard for me and daddy to put him down or let him leave our sight?” She asked slowly and carefully, she knew Emma was acting like a mix of an adult and a child so she was trying pitch it for a suitable tone.

“Yeah.” Emma nodded remembering how only a select few were even allowed to hold him, they had both gotten better with him, and now they weren’t overprotective of him out of the ordinary. “You only let me hold him, or sometimes Henry, but we had to be careful ‘cause he’s only a baby.”

“Yes, and you’re very good with him, he loves you so much.“ Mary Margaret smiled gently at her, she really was talking like a little kid, but her memories hadn’t changed so Mary Margaret was beginning to wonder if this was just the next stage in the deaging. She stroked her thumb down Emma’s knuckles, to get Emma to look back at her instead of at her brother’s crib, she kept the loving smile on her face. “But it took some time for us to get used to knowing that Neal would be safe if we weren’t always around him and that he wasn’t going to disappear again. We feel the same about you, it really scared us when we couldn’t find you, we would feel the same no matter how old or young or big or small you are. So, it’s going to take us a little time to get used to letting you out of our sight too. I’m sorry for freaking out at you and your father, I can’t promise that I won’t get worried again but I will try my best to think things through and actually search for you if that does happen-“

“-Then you’ll freak out.” Emma lightened the mood with a small joke, but there was a touched look on her face which couldn’t be hidden, she already knew her mother loved her as much as Neal… but there was just something which suddenly seemed even more to her – as though the love was completely filling her up. It was so uncomplicated, pure and selfless love, Emma led her head against Mary Margaret’s chest.

Mary Margaret smirked at Emma’s joke but happily cuddled her daughter closer to her. “Then I’ll freak out, but Emma I won’t be mad at you, I promise.”

Emma just smiled and didn’t pull away from the closeness of the cuddle, she felt secure and comforted with having her mother not just near her, but her arms wrapped around her.

~OUAT~

Emma and Mary Margaret sat cuddling and listening to Neal gently cooing in his crib as he looked up at his sheep mobile.

Emma adored her little brother but she found herself loving the individual attention from her mother, it was quite nice not having to share her mommy for once, she relaxed even more as Mary Margaret stroked her hair it was something which always relaxed her.

Emma was just about to ask where David was, and why he didn’t have to stay in bed like she did, when suddenly he called through from behind the bedroom curtain.

“Are you two done talking now?” David called from behind of it. “I’m bored. Can you let me in?”

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes good naturedly. “Typical.” She whispered to Emma before she tucked Emma into the middle of the bed and walked over to the curtain. “And why can’t you let yourself in?” There was laughter in her voice as she walked over, she pulled the curtain open and smiled when she saw David standing holding the television box and screen in his arms.

“Em and I were enjoying watching our cartoons, weren’t we kiddo?” He placed the tv and box on the dresser which stood opposite the bed and between the curtained entrance ways. He turned back around and smiled as Emma was nodding enthusiastically and Mary Margaret tries her hardest to look displeased but he knew he was back in her good books from the smile in her eyes which was fighting to get onto her face too. “It’s either this or we revolt and I reckon we’d win the uprising.”

“Yeah, we can get Neal on our side too, he needs to watch them too.” Emma grinned as her mother scooped Neal up into her arms, headed back to the bed, then in one swift motion she picked Emma up and then sat back where she had been with both Emma and Neal on her lap.

David smiled at the sight of his wife and kids cuddled together, Mary Margaret caught his eye and they shared a smile, yes two of the four members of the family were sick, but it was still a nice day. David quickly set the television back up and the old cartoons returned to the screen. David climbed back into bed and Emma’s eyes stayed on the screen as she moved to cuddle up on his lap.

“Can I hold Nealy? Pretty please mommy?” Emma asked as the episode of The Rugrats came to an end.

Mary Margaret smiled gently down at Emma, she leant down to drop a kiss onto Emma’s forehead, then did the same to Neal. “Okay, but you let your daddy help you, okay?” She wasn’t sure if Neal would be too heavy in Emma’s little arm. She waited for David to get Emma into position then placed Neal onto Emma’s lap with both Emma and David supporting his head and body.

“Hiya Nealy.” Emma smiled down at his blue eyes, she beamed as he cooed up at her, though she was relieved when her mother saved her hair from being tugged on she was also happy Neal was becoming more curious and therefore more interesting. She started to talk to him about the new cartoon which was on the screen but eventually she drifted off into silence, only speaking every so often about the show.

But eventually she became lost in her thoughts. “I had a bad dream before I ran away.” She told them breaking her own silence, her parents looked down at her but stayed quiet to let Emma speak, so she continued. “I was at home, then my old social worker turned up and she had this big file, which the social workers always turn up with before I was moved. When I woke up I found the file by accident, I wasn’t snooping, I promise.”

“It’s okay kiddo, we know you weren’t, it’s okay.” David soothed her childish worry, he kissed the top of her head, and waited for her to continue.

“I found the file, and I couldn’t read it properly, just my name. But it was like the file in my dream, and the ones which were always around when I ended up in hospital… I tried to take some breaths and calm down, but then the pictures falled, fell, out. I thought you were sending me away,” her ending sentence was a whisper, “I don’t want to be without my mommy and daddy… I don’t want you to send me away.”

“That will never happen.” Mary Margaret told her firmly. “Ever.” David added.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret placed her hand on her cheek so she could look into her green eyes which were sparkling with tears, “please never run away from us again. Please come and talk to us, if any ever makes you want to run again, come and talk to us. It doesn’t matter what time of the day it is, you could wake us up on the hour every hour, during the middle of the night and we wouldn’t mind.”

“We’d just have to keep you in our bed with us so you actually get some rest.” David added with a jokey smile, though he wasn’t joking, in fact he would rather she stay in his sight at all times considering how worried he and his wife had been when Emma had run.

“I don’t have my real file here and I think they lied in it.” Emma told them as her eyes were fixed looking down at her baby brother who her father was still helping her hold. “They blamed me for everything, even if it wasn’t my fault, or I didn’t mean to.”

“Nothing that happened was your fault, baby.” Mary Margaret promised in a soothing voice.

Emma nodded her head, but it was a nice reminder, she found without them she would often start to blame herself for things. “Can you ask Regina to make another dreamcatcher for me, for my real memories, not my other ones? So that you can see what really happened… if you want… they can get pretty scary.”

Mary Margaret gave her a water smile, David took Neal from Emma’s arms, then Mary Margaret took her into her own arms and cuddled her baby girl close. “Of course we will Emma. Me and daddy are never leaving you, no matter what the bad people did to you, and you’re never going to have to go through that again.”

~OUAT~

They spent the rest of their day watching cartoons with Emma and Neal, along with some animated movies such as The Princess and the Frog, and Tangled which Emma was singing along with as best she could with her sore throat. Mary Margaret had both David and Emma eating soup for lunch and dinner, though at dinner she had deemed them both better enough to have grilled cheese with them, which also made it easier to convince Emma to take her night time medicine.

Mary Margaret had also left the room to talk to Regina when she called, Regina had found the person who had made the ice castle, a queen from a faraway land who had come through with Emma and Hook from Gold’s vault. Mary Margaret was proud to see the progress her step mother had made when she told Mary Margaret that she had become friends with the woman who specialised in ice magic, and was helping her to find her sister. Mary Margaret had also assured Regina that Emma was going to be okay, and Regina had assured Mary Margaret that Emma would be mostly a mixture of an adult (as much as Emma could ordinarily be described as one, Regina had quipped) and child, with completely childish days where Emma would have her separate memories. When she returned to the room she was slightly surprised that Emma hadn’t asked her who was on the phone or what it was about, but she was happy that Emma wouldn’t have another thing to worry about.

Both Emma and Neal were fast asleep by 7:30, it was as David and Mary Margaret cuddled in front of a movie more to their taste than their kids’ that Mary Margaret told him about the phone call, and that she had done as Emma had asked and asked Regina to make a dreamcatcher so David and Mary Margaret could see Emma’s true memories before they learnt of her fake ones. Regina had promised to be around the next day, with her new friend, Henry, and a dreamcatcher.

~OUAT~

As a knock at the front door thudded, gently enough to try not to wake the younger residents of the home but loud enough to announce their arrival, it was clear that it was a fellow set of parents knocking.. Emma stirred, Mary Margaret stood from the bed, with Neal still nestled in her arms, to answer it, and David was left to hope that Emma would fall back asleep then sleep through until night time.

“Who’s ’at?” Emma asked, as she stirred from her sleep, her voice slurred as she fought sleep which tried its hardest to reclaim her.

David’s voice was barely above a whisper but it vibrated through his chest as he quietly spoke and stroked Emma’s hair to try and get her back to sleep. “Shhh, it’s okay kiddo, it’s just Ella and Thomas.” He felt her head tilt to the side so he could tell she was confused. “Ashley and Sean.” He reminded her gently, after the second curse had broken some of the Storybrooke residents had decided to change their name back to their original ones, he knew that his wife had been thinking about changing her name back to Snow before everything with Emma had happened, but now she had bigger things to think about that deciding about a change of name. “Alexandra’s three but she’s pretty big for her age, and you’re pretty small, so Ella offered to drop some stuff around Alexandra’s outgrown just until we can take you shopping. Go back to sleep sweetheart.”

“Gonna go say hi?” Emma mumbled, but David stroking her hair was making her very sleepy, her thumb went up to near her mouth and she hesitated for a half second before putting it into her mouth.

David smiled down gently at her thinking she would be awake long enough for David to even carry her to the doorway of the bedroom. “Maybe next time.” He said softly, he felt his daughter nod her head and within a minute Emma was fast asleep once more.

David stayed awake until his wife was back into the room, he watched her place Neal in his crib at the end of the bed, and change into her own pyjamas before climbing into bed beside him. David turned his head and kissed her lips, just as softly and slowly as full of love, then rested his forehead against hers. Emma was still curled upon his chest, and Mary Margaret wrapped her arm around him, and Emma by extension. The next day they would be learning about their daughter’s real past. They wanted, no needed, to know. But it was going to hurt them, which they could handle, and their daughter even more so, which they couldn’t. They led for a while, enjoying the calm between the storm while it was there, until they too eventually fell asleep hoping that both of their kids would stay asleep for as long as possible.

#charming family #The charmings #the charming family #charming family feels #david nolan #prince charming #mary margaret blanchard #snow white #emma swan #Neal nolan #daddy charming #mama snow #snowing #charming family fic

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hookedonbooks22 · 7 years

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A Pain in My... Back

Summary: Hospital AU. One Shot. A bit of a Meet-Cute. Mary Margaret has just had surgery and won’t stop pointing out all of her cute nurses to Emma in an attempt to get her back out in the dating field. It’s a little embarrassing.

Word Count: 4519

Rated: T

A/N: This is very loosely based off of my mom attempting to do the same thing to me a few weeks ago. All of the medical/hospital terms I used in this came from my memory of that experience so I apologize if I get anything wrong! Also, as you can probably guess, my story doesn’t have the same ending as this one! Ha!

ao3

It wasn’t like her sister-in-law intentionally sought out opportunities to embarrass her.

She was just kind of oblivious to how loud she spoke.

And the strong pain killers the hospital was giving her was not helping matters.

“Oooohhh, he’s even cuter than the last one!” Mary-Margaret whisper-shouted to Emma from her hospital bed, propped up to just the right incline with precisely two pillows behind her head and one under her knees. It was the only position that didn’t put too much pressure on the surgical site in her lower back (too much time spent in an awful desk chair at the school she was employed at and over-exerting herself to help literally everyone do everything had done a number on a few of her discs).

She was referring to her new nurse for the next few hours. The one who was currently erasing the name Eric to replace it with Phillip on the room’s whiteboard, giving Emma a view of only his blue scrub-covered backside and a head of sandy curls, and absolutely hearing everything that came out of his patient’s mouth.

“Don’t you think so, Emma?” The blonde could only widen her eyes in response as if to say please cut it out. Her brother tried to cover his chuckle with a cough after she turned her slightly-altered wide-eyed gaze on him. This one said I will injure you real hard.

Nurse Phillip turned towards them with an amused smile and found an innocent-looking pixie-cut brunette, her polite husband, and an annoyed Emma. With her eyes glued to the floor, she could feel his gaze assess her for a moment and she knew he realized that she was the Emma who had yet to comment on the level of his attractiveness.

“So, I’ll be your nurse until eleven and then someone else will take over for the night. Let me take a look at your chart and ask you a few questions,” the man said in in an accent as he made his way over to the travelling computer stand positioned in the corner. As he went over things with Mary Margaret, Emma payed close attention as she had since she’d gotten here. She worried and that made her keep a watchful eye over everything.

In the process, she noticed a gold wedding band on his ring finger as he tapped away on the keyboard.

“Looks like you aren’t due for more Dilaudid for a few hours, but let me know if the pain gets worse. You want to stay ahead of it. Can I get you anything while I’m here?”

Emma watched as Mary Margaret smiled slightly too brightly at her nurse and then looked towards David to see his reaction, but he was too firmly engaged in the episode of Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives playing on the flat screen hanging on the wall.

“Nope, I think I’m fine for now!” she informed him.

“Okay, your new PSA should be in in a little bit. Press your button if you need me,” Phillip said as he began to take his leave.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Mary Margaret pounced (figuratively, of course-she couldn’t even stand without the aid of another person). “Emma, did you see how handsome he was?”

“Mary Margaret, did you see how married he was?” Emma shot back while holding up her left hand and wiggling her naked ring finger. “I know the pain killers are making you a little loopy but you failed to notice the shiny band on his finger. And you apparently failed to notice how many times I’ve told you I’m not interested in dating, unmarried nurse or otherwise.” While Emma could admit that these people were good-looking in a removed sort of way, she wouldn’t feel an attraction because she wasn’t interested (couldn’t allow herself to be).

Her sister-in-law harrumphed. “Emma, I know you’ve had your heart broken, but not every man is Neal,” (just the mention of the man who broke her heart and sent her to jail for his crime was enough to sour her stomach), “We just don’t want you to be alone.” She looked to David for support, but he was now practically drooling at the television, his eyelids drooping. While usually he was as attentive as Emma, he didn’t function well on little sleep. They had to leave Storybrooke at 3 am to get to the hospital (an hour outside of town) in time this morning and he left straight from work, having insisted on taking the late shift so Emma could sleep.

“I’m not alone. I have you guys. That’s all I need,” Emma assured her. She knew how much the couple loved her and she really didn’t believe she needed anyone else. “So, seriously can you stop trying to pimp the nurses out to me? It’s probably against some kind of rule to date a patient anyways. Or, you know, the family of a patient,” She made sure to keep her tone light so Mary Margaret would know she wasn’t really angry.

“Fine,” she acquiesced, laying her head back as she started to nod off. She’d only been able to carry spurts of conversation before the meds would knock her out. As soon as Emma saw her eyes slip shut, David let out a soft snore from the recliner beside her. God, they were so in sync it was almost disgusting.

She decided she’d spend the afternoon reading the mystery novel she’d downloaded on her iPad the day before, getting as comfortable as she could on the small couch (that apparently pulled out) in front of the window.

The PSA interrupted a half an hour later, knocking a couple times on the door and drawing Emma’s attention but only rousing Mary-Margaret. The woman seemed kind as she introduced herself as Jasmine and began taking Mary Margaret’s temperature, blood pressure and heart rate. After she’d written her name on the board and left to get more water, Mary Margaret went back on her word.

“Wow, she is really beautiful! Did you see her hair?” And while that could have just been a kind observation, the sly, probing look she shot Emma gave away her true intent.

“I’m not attracted to women, Mary Margaret. And even if I was, I’m not interested in dating ANYONE!” Her voice may have risen a little higher than she’d intended it to, because Jasmine returned with a slightly startled glance in Emma’s direction. She thought for a second about leaving for a while to get some space (and maybe some coffee) but her brunette best friend shot her a very apologetic look.

And since Mary Margaret’s comments weren’t annoying enough to make her leave (her annoyance could never overpower her worry), she hunkered back down with her iPad and continued reading, a soundtrack of snores and mechanic beeps floating through her ears as she grumbled about nurses being there to make sure her sister-in-law got better not to be lusted after.

“Lass,” came a low-toned whisper near her ear, a nudge to her shoulder accompanying it. When she cracked her eyes open, she was greeted by the blackened screen of her now-dead iPad. Peeling the device off of her face, she looked to her right to see where the voice had come from and found a raven-haired man crouched beside her where she laid on the couch.

She immediately shot up to her feet and reached for her gun at her hip before realizing she didn’t have it because she wasn’t taking a nap on the break room couch at the police station, she was in the low-lit hospital room that Mary Margaret was staying in.

And she hadn’t been woken by a criminal, she’d been woken by the woman’s latest nurse if his scrubs were anything to go by. He held up his hands in a placating manner anyways.

“Easy, lass. I didn’t mean to startle you. When I came in, I saw you were sleeping and thought maybe you had accidently fallen asleep when you had intended to head home,” the man told her earnestly (and she would know with that superpower of hers). This nurse had an accent too but it was paired with cool blue eyes and a stubbled jaw that both seemed more roguish when he was backlit by the darkness outside the window.

“What made you assume that?” Emma asked him in a hushed tone (she didn’t want to wake the other brunette in the room). They told her earlier that she was welcome to stay the night and informed her that the couch pulled out into a bed.

David tried to get her to go home to sleep, insisting that he stay but his sister told him he needed rest in his own bed since he’d been up for over 24 hours. When he tried to argue that Emma had to work in the morning (Graham, Robin, and August took all of the shifts today), she reminded him that she was good at sleeping where she could (reminded him that she didn’t have very desirable sleeping arrangements before his family adopted her at fourteen). He shot her a sad smile but relented.

“Well you had that device smashed against your face and your clothes don’t really look like something one would purposefully sleep in, with the leather jacket and all,” the nurse answered her with a point to her upper body. “I do like the red, though.” This was accompanied by a smirk and a cocked eyebrow. Mary Margaret would love that.

Looking down, she discovered that she, in fact, was still wearing her red leather jacket but that didn’t really surprise her considering she hardly ever took it off. However, it wasn’t the most comfortable thing to sleep in. Neither were the jeans and knee-high boots she wore.

And that couch certainly wasn’t the most comfortable thing to sleep on when it wasn’t in bed-form. She could feel a crick forming in her neck and reached up to rub at it with her palm. She winced when it made contact, not wanting to think about how stiff it would have been if she’d slept like that the whole night.

“Uh, yeah, well. I mean I did plan to sleep here, but I had planned to change my clothes and pull out the couch first, so thanks for waking me I guess.” When Emma pulled her hand from her neck, she attempted to run it through her long, blonde tresses but stopped short when she found how knotted it had gotten.

“Well I’ve learned it’s a bit of a bugger to maneuver the couch about so I can give you hand if you’d like.” Emma tried not to notice, but he had a kind smile and dammit, he was pretty handsome.

“Yeah, sure. Thanks.” She went to grab the bag she put in one of the guest cabinets in the room so she could change into to the yoga pants and t-shirt she brought.

“Of course, love. But first I need to get everything checked out with your…” he trailed off in an inquiry as to Emma’s relation to his patient.

“Sister-in-law,” and as Emma said it, they both turned to look at the woman sleeping in the hospital bed and found that she wasn’t sleeping at all. In fact, she looked like she’d been very entertained watching the exchange.

“You’re my nurse for the night?” she asked him as Emma walked towards the room’s bathroom.

She was just able to catch him saying, “Aye. My name’s Killian,” as the door clicked shut behind her.

While she changed her clothes, she tried not to focus on the fact that Killian was by far the most attractive person to walk through the door that day and wondered why Mary Margaret hadn’t tried to say something to her about it (and why she felt trusting enough towards the man to not watch his every move as he did his job like she had with all the others).

When she left the bathroom (tugging at her clothes and feeling exposed without her trusty armor), the nurse was telling Mary Margaret he was going to grab something and heading towards the door.

Emma made her way bed-side. “So, aren’t you going to tell me how handsome he is?”

“No, I hadn’t really noticed. I think the others were much better looking,” Mary Margaret replied in the quietest voice she’d used all day. Emma was shocked. Her medicine had to be affecting her sight.

“Are you kidding? That guy is totally hot!” She got a sinking feeling in her stomach when she saw Mary Margaret smiling slyly at something over her shoulder.

“I much prefer being described as ‘dashing’. Or maybe even ‘charming’,” she heard in Killian’s lilting accent behind her. When she turned to face him, she realized he’d only moved to the other side of the curtain stationed in front of the door to retrieve something from the cabinet at the front of the room.

He sent her another smirk as he peeked around the curtain and she whipped her reddened face towards the woman next to her, the weird look on her face prompting Emma to believe this had been her plan all along and that she knew just how attractive her nurse was.

And though she wanted to blame her for the embarrassment, she accepted the fact that she was the one who opened her fat mouth. She tried to hide her shame with her hair but remembered she’d put it up in a ponytail so instead she walked to the window and stared down at the cars in the lot below.

She got payback when Killian returned because he intended to check the drain in Mary Margaret’s back. Emma knew how much the modest woman hated exposing her back to the nurses because the incision fell so low. When she complained earlier about it, Emma reminded her that it was their job so they were used to it and that someone had to be all up in her lady parts to insert her catheter. She blushed furiously and exclaimed, “I don’t need reminded! Especially since they still have to remove it!”

After a while of Killian speaking with Mary Margaret about her medicine and the following morning (when they would remove her catheter and Dr. Whale was supposed to come and check in), Emma felt him come up behind her.

“Erm, did you want help with that couch now?” he asked her, looking sheepish as he rubbed a spot behind his ear. She realized she probably made him feel bad. It wasn’t his fault he caught her commenting on how hot he was. Nope. That was all on her brother’s terrible wife who she was considering disowning after she was discharged.

“Yeah. Yes. I would really appreciate that.” Emma made sure to catch his eyes so he knew she meant it.

It really didn’t take long or much effort to get the piece of furniture situated and Emma figured she could have probably accomplished the task easily on her own (but she definitely didn’t mind getting a view of Killian’s biceps as they flexed with each lift and pull).

When they finished, Mary Margaret’s snoring could be heard over the beeping of her monitors (but she had fallen asleep with a tiny smile on her lips, so smug).

“I’ll be right outside if either of you needs anything. And since we didn’t do this earlier,” Killian stuck out his right hand, giving Emma a view of the tattoo on his forearm, “I’m Killian Jones.”

“Emma Swan.” She took his hand with a polite smile and saw a curious lift of his brow.

“Not Nolan?” Emma wasn’t sure if he was just confused or inquiring about her marital status. His eyes glanced down towards her left hand.

“The Nolan’s adopted me when I was sixteen and by then I was already too attached to the name Swan to change it,” slipped right out of her mouth and she immediately pulled her hand back, surprised she made the admission so easily but if she was honest, she could see a look in his eyes that seemed kindred.

“Ah. Well I think I like Swan better anyways.”

Killian lingered for one, two, three moments before turning towards the door and making his leave but not before throwing a smile back at her.

It took her a while after that to relax enough to get back to sleep and while the couch was more comfortable this way, it wasn’t that much more comfortable.

Just as she felt herself begin to drop into that sweet descent of sleep, she heard her name being called a tad frantically. It made her heart do a little hop and she was up and running to the source in a second.

“What’s the matter, Mary Margaret? Did the pain get worse? Are you okay?” The woman was squeezing her eyes shut and looked more pale than usual, which was saying a lot.

“I just woke up and felt really dizzy and nauseous. I just don’t feel right. I think it’s from the pain medicine the nurse just gave me. I didn’t eat much dinner so I think it’s making me feel sick.” Emma didn’t know if this was normal or not.

“Okay, I’m going to go get Killian. Just take deep breaths.” The blonde was out the door like a shot and looking towards the nurse’s station. She found the back of his head as he typed away at a computer screen.

“Killian?” He turned quickly at her voice. “Something’s wrong.”

When they’d returned to the room, Mary Margaret didn’t look much better.

“What’s the problem, love?” Killian asked her. Emma answered for her while running her hand soothingly across Mary Margaret’s shoulders.

“She said she woke up dizzy and nauseous and that she didn’t feel right.” Her worry was prominent in her voice.

“Okay. It’s probably just from the medicine. It’s notorious for this effect sometimes. Did you eat anything for dinner, Mary Margaret?” He didn’t seem too worried and that calmed Emma a little bit. She also noted that he seemed like he knew first-hand what the “notorious effect” felt like.

“Just a little bit of broth and a couple crackers.” She sounded a little faraway.

“Okay, I’ll go get you one of those flavored ice cups and some cold water. I can get you some medicine for your nausea too if you want.”

The woman nodded. “Thank you.”

“Lie back, close your eyes, and take big breaths. I’ll be right back.”

When the ordeal was over and Mary Margaret started settling back down, Emma sat in the recliner beside the bed and tapped her foot while keeping a close eye on her.

Killian spoke to her as he finished up logging everything into the computer. “Relax, darling. She’s fine. That nausea medicine should help her. She’ll probably sleep the rest of the night. You should get some rest too.”

“Yeah, okay. Thank you. I will.”

(In case anyone was wondering, her superpower did work on herself. And it indicated that she was lying.)

She spent the rest of the night watching whatever she could find on the television from the recliner at a low volume and ignoring Killian’s exasperated looks and comments every time he came in. The PSA came in a few times too, but wasn’t very chatty considering it was the middle of the night.

Of course, Emma was also stewing about how she had found herself attracted to this man (and misplacing her frustration onto Mary Margaret for it). It was just that she had a soft spot for people who cared for the people she loved, and while she knew that was his job, Killian also went beyond that and cared for her too. And while some of the other nurses seemed a little stiff in their ministrations, he had an air about him that said I have been where you are and want to help in any way I can (he helped her pull out a goddamn couch after waking her up in case she needed to get going).

Plus there was this strange connection she felt with him that she couldn’t even really put her finger on.

David returned at 6 am and gave her a look that said Seriously, Emma? You have to work in a few hours and you’ve clearly gotten no sleep. And then he gave her a whispered speech that literally said, “Seriously, Emma? You have to work in a few hours and you’ve clearly gotten no sleep.” She was too good at reading him.

“I’ll be fine with a couple coffees in my system. And Graham should be there too. Besides, it’s not like crime runs rampant in Storybrooke.” Emma rolled her eyes. Then switched the attention off of her. She was good at that too. “Mary Margaret wasn’t feeling good last night so I wanted to make sure I was awake if she needed something.”

“Which is what I’m here for, Swan.” Killian said as he entered the room. “Is this your brother?” He asked while gesturing to the man lecturing her.

“Yeah, I’m David Nolan.” Storybrooke’s Sheriff introduced himself.

“Killian. Sorry, mate. I tried to get her to get some sleep. But, alas, she couldn’t be persuaded.” He was clicking away on the computer.

“Yeah, that sounds like Emma. She’s as stubborn as a mule.” Emma’s mouth dropped open. How dare he?

“Hey! Watch it! This mule can kick your ass!” She told her brother, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest.

The laugh Killian let out at that was just loud enough to rouse Mary Margaret. “You’re a tough lass, Swan.”

David’s wife smiled sweetly when he walked over to give her a peck and when Emma looked away from their short private moment, her eyes caught Killian’s across the room. The look he shot her gave her heart a little stutter.

So she didn’t have to think about that for too long, she moved to start gathering up her things. She had to leave in an hour if she wanted to get her proper caffeine fix before she hit the road.

A bear claw sounded good too.

Apparently the time she had to leave lined up perfectly with the end of Killian’s shift because he caught up to her on her way to the elevator wearing a black leather jacket over his blue scrubs and carrying a messenger bag with a Captain Hook pin on it.

“Will you accompany me down to the café for some coffee?”

Really, she only accepted because she was going anyway (at least that’s what she told herself) and she informed him that she couldn’t stay long because she had to get to work soon.

(But, she turned him down when he offered to pay.)

When they sat down, Emma immediately taking a large bite out of her bear claw (that she was very excited to find out they had even if it wasn’t as good as Granny’s), Killian asked her where she worked.

“I’m a deputy in Storybrooke. It’s a few towns over. Takes about an hour to get there.” His eyes widened slightly and she wasn’t sure if it was because of her profession or the drive.

“Then you definitely should have gotten more sleep, Swan!” he admonished her and leaned forward with a slightly worried gaze.

“I know. It’s just that Mary Margaret and David are all I have and I’m a little overprotective of them.” The sleep deprivation was really doing a number on her mouth.

Killian smiled knowingly and placed his left hand over her right where it was resting on the table (she found she didn’t really mind so she kept it there when she usually would have pulled it back). “My older brother and I are the same way. I understand.” Emma looked down to watch the thumb he was moving across her knuckles (had to avert her gaze from the look she saw in the mirror far too often). Her eyes caught on the scars running across the back of his palm and wrist.

“Is that why it kind of seemed like you understood how Mary Margaret felt last night?” she asked him and nodded towards his hand.

He looked at it with a slight grimace. “Aye. I spent a lot of time in this hospital feeling the side effects of a lot of things. I almost lost the hand. Car accident.” Emma could see there was more story there (could see heartbreak in his blues) and realized she wanted to hear it but it would have to be another time. She needed to get going so she wasn’t late. “Which is why I’d like to ask you to drive carefully and maybe text me when you arrive?”

She stood and started gathering their trash. “Is this your way of asking me for my number?”

“Perhaps,” that goddamn smirk, “Well, actually I would be giving you mine.” His smile grew even more genuine as she reached into her jacket pocket for her phone and handed it to him (even though she could take care of herself and she and her brother were both cops).

Killian entered in his number as they headed for the hospital’s exit. They were greeted by a chilling gust of air (if that extra-large coffee hadn’t woken her up, that sure did) and flurries of fluffy snowflakes. She reached in her bag for her grey beanie and when she pulled it over her head, she noticed Killian was pulling on one of his own.

(They had to look adorable: all leather jackets and beanies and shy smiles.)

Emma wasn’t sure where nurses were supposed to park but she assumed it wasn’t the same place she had parked her bug so he must have been walking her to her car and she was glad of his gait beside her because when she stepped on a patch of ice a few feet from her car, her legs would have flown right out from underneath her if his arms weren’t there to catch her.

Her face was red now for another reason than the cold but when she turned in Killian’s hold and found his gaze flickering between her eyes and lips, she decided it wasn’t so bad to be a little embarrassed.

So, while it was probably impulsive and not something she would usually do, she raised up on her toes and pressed her lips to his, both a tad chapped from the air. And while she intended for it to be chaste, it grew a little fiery as they each tilted their heads to deepen the kiss, her insides warming against the icy air.

When she heard someone walk by and grumble, “Geez, get a room,” she didn’t even care enough to be embarrassed.

And when she texted him later in the morning to assure him of her safety, Emma decided she wouldn’t mind dating someone if it was Killian Jones.

#cs ff #cs fanfiction #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfiction #captain swan au #cs au #Captain Swan #emma swan #killian jones #ouat #samantha writes

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notreallybusy · 7 years

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A good catch (16/?)

On Tumblr:[Part1][Part2][Part3][Part 4][Part 5][Part 6][Part 7][Part 8][Part 9][Part 10][Part 11][Part 12],[Part 13],[Part 14][Part 15]

Also on:AO3, fanfic

Summary: Emma Swan is happy, she has her son, a good job and plenty of friends. Killian and Liam Jones arrive and Emma must re-evaluate her happiness. But there is more going on than meets the eye in the town of Storybrooke and Emma has to get to the bottom of it, but at what cost

Chapter 16 - Every town has its ups and downs

After half an hour of composing herself Emma summoned the strength to call David. She organised to meet at his place. He got there first and her face must have said it all. “What the hell did he do?” David growled.

“First coffee then explanations,” she said tiredly.

Emma tried to focus while David got the coffee and soon enough there was a steaming cup in front of her. She took a sip, the scent alone making her feel a little better. David was impatient, too impatient to wait for Emma to be ready to talk about whatever had caused her to turn up red faced and puffy eyed. “What happened?” He demanded.

She sighed tears again pricking her eyes, “I stayed last night at Kilian’s, this morning I was getting dressed. There was a photo on his dresser pushed face down, probably so I wouldn’t see.” The thought had only occurred to her then and her gut twisted, “It was Milah Gold.”

Whatever David was expecting it wasn’t this, his face contorted into confusion, “How?”

“Its too big a coincidence for him to be here. And in the photo they had their arms around each other, he must have been the partner, the man Milah was seeing when she died. And now he is here, so I figure he is either looking into her death himself or..” she trailed off unable to bring herself to say it.

David put a hand on hers, “Emma he could still...”

She cut him off, “Don’t say it David. I don’t need the pity and I really can’t have that conversation right now. I don’t think he was involved.. he can’t be, I can’t be that wrong. So he has got to be investigating him for himself, but he played me David. All this time and he couldn’t have volunteered that little titbit, ‘oh by the way Gold’s ex-wife was my girlfriend.’ Instead he let me tell him everything David, everything. About myself, this investigation, all of it.”

While she loved David he was ill-equipped to deal with the scale of emotion Emma was feeling, so he simply didn’t, taking a pragmatic approach instead. “So you told him about Milah?”

“No, I trusted him but I didn’t want to drag him in any further than I already was. So I didn’t talk about Milah or Hordor. Just the shipments.”

“Is there any way he just didn’t know?”

She gave him a look, “David its a big ole world and he just happened to come here?”

“He and his brother know Robin.”

“When they were kids, they hadn’t been close in years. Robin told me he was pleasantly surprised when he heard from Liam.” She rubbed her face in her hands, “Tell me I haven’t fucked up the whole investigation, I can’t even think straight.”

David sat back in his chair, “And you are completely sure he didn’t...y’no?”

Emma shook her head frowning, “No, I am obviously a bad judge of people but I am not that bad a judge surely.”

“So more likely he was investigating it himself.” David sighed, “In which case he should just let us carry on out jobs, out of the loop but aware that we are going to get Gold ourselves anyway.”

They sat in silence for a while before Emma began to talk. Her voice was not her own small and broken, “How do I manage to find them, men who just break me. Earn my trust and then just rip it apart. Why didn’t he just tell me that first time we talked about Gold or when I told him about Neal or any of the lunches we shared or dates or, or...”

“Take the day off,” David offered.

“I have the night shift you can’t take that, and plus it will get my mind off it. I need to talk to Silver again, I will change, clean up a little and take Lance with me.” And she couldn’t face her own thoughts right now, to be alone with them was a bad idea.

David didn’t look sure but knew better than to question her right now instead nodding. She downed the last of her coffee and left. She went home splashed her face and looked in the mirror. No wonder David was so concerned, she looked like shit. Emma cleaned herself up best she could before changing and going in to work.

Lance frowned when she walked in, as best she could do was obviously not good enough. She shook her head before he could open his mouth, “Coming Lance? I need to talk to Silver again.”

He frowned again but got up grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair, “Lead on milady.”

In the car Lance mustered the courage to speak, “So why are we talking to Silver again?”

“Because he seems to have forgotten something and I am sick of people conveniently leaving out details when it suits them.” She was torn between anger and sadness with Killian but as earlier, anger seemed a little easier at the moment.

They pulled up in front of Silver’s house and Emma knocked brusquely on the door, “Get up Silver, I know you are there.”

He came to the door looking scared and to be honest like he had lost a little weight. “What do you want?”

“Get in the car we are taking you to the station for questioning.”

“In relation to what?”

“In relation to the disappearance of Charles Teach,” she said bluntly.

He came quietly, in fact Emma would have described him like a mouse, a far cry from his usual self. They marched him into the interrogation room, all the while Lance looking wary. He had no idea why they were bringing him in and Emma was too wound up to confide in him.

Silver sat in the chair and Emma went through the preliminaries before starting to question him, this would be by the book. She started with all the same ones she had asked before and he gave all the same lying shit answers. She narrowed her eyes at him, “So Mr Silver care to explain how we found Charles Teach’s abandoned car in Brairwood. Also that around the same time we estimate his car was dumped there, that you were identified by the bartender as having been in the same town?”

John Silver went white as a sheet, “I can explain.”

“And I would love to hear it,” Emma leaned back. He could have asked for a lawyer, she quickly read him his rights before he incriminated himself.

“Charlie, he, I... I just dumped the car I swear. I swear that’s all I did. He was my friend I have nothing to do with it, I couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t what?” Emma’s heart was beating fast, what the hell was he confessing to?

Silver looked at her pleading, “You have to protect me, I can’t live like this anymore.”

“We can protect you Silver, but only if you help us. Where is Charles Teach?”

Lance cleared his throat, “Emma, what is going on here?”

Up to this point he had been quiet despite the rapid evolution of events, “Lance I have this.”

“Can I talk to you outside?” He demanded.

Emma was dumbfounded, what the hell was he doing? She marched out of the room practically slamming the door behind her. “Lance that is literally the shittiest timing.”

His face was serious, angry even. “Why didn’t you tell me what the bartender said? We had a whole car ride back from that town and you just kept mum on an important piece of evidence like that?”

Emma frowned, its not like she didn’t know this was coming, but she hoped that he would have at least let the interrogation happen before chewing her out about it. “I didn’t know what it meant yet, I didn’t want to jump to a conclusion.”

“So instead of telling me so we could discuss it, you just kept it from me.”

She glanced back at the room, Silver was looking antsy and Emma had to get back in that room before he changed his mind. “Later, you can yell at me all you like later. And I deserve it and one day I will explain it. But right now, I am working.”

Emma left him there and went back in, Silver was white as a sheet mumbling to himself. Emma started the recording again, “What was that Mr Silver?”

He looked up at her, his eyes wild. “He was my friend,” he pleaded.

“I know,” Emma said as soothingly as she could. “But he is missing and you were the last person to see him... And you lied about it. You have to give me something here otherwise we don’t have a reason to protect you.”

“I, it wasn’t me. I just dumped the car, and he made me...”

Emma could have screamed when the door opened stopping Silver in his tracks, an older man in a suit barged in. “My client does not have to say anything, are there any charges?”

“Did you ask for a lawyer? Do you want this man as your lawyer?” Emma asked Silver as calmly and evenly as she could muster.

“I... I don’t.” Silver was doing his best impression of a goldfish at that moment and Emma knew she had lost.

“My client doesn’t have to answer that,” the older man she recognised as George Dale. An asshole generally, but more interestingly and infuriatingly a friend of Gold.

It didn’t take long for Silver to be out, she should have ignored Lance. She at least would have had time to get a confession or learn exactly what it was he wanted to say. “Goddam it,” she cursed walking up and down the station as she fumed. “How the hell did he even know to come in?”

She wanted to cry, wanted to scream, it felt like everything was falling apart. But it wasn’t she chastised herself, Killian wasn’t everything, John Silver was a happy coincidence and not everything. She still had the rest of her case, she still had Henry, still had friends. How irritating that everything was so closely linked in her mind, her whole self-worth hanging on a precipice. She took a deep breath and turned to Lance, “I know you are angry with me and you have every right. But not telling you was supposed to stop Gold from finding out, the smaller the circle and all that. Not that it matters anyway now, the crafty asshole figured it out.”

Lance shook his head and Emma at least thought he was done having a go at her. “Gold?”

“I think Silver was going to tell me that Teach has been hurt, maybe killed. Which may seem far fetched but... just trust me on this I think Gold is behind it.”

She looked at him carefully, she was offering no evidence just her word. Lance frowned, “You really think he would be capable?”

Emma nodded solemnly, “I do.”

“Maybe he was watching Silver’s house?”

“Yeah maybe,” she cocked her head at him. “Wait.. you believe me? On nothing but me saying so.”

He shrugged, “You don’t exactly make a habit of crying wolf.”

“Ok.”

“Ok,” he agreed. He gave her a half-hearted smile, “Should I call Philip and tell him your hunch, that Teach may be injured or dead?”

Emma nodded, “Maybe, I mean he could look out for any evidence or whatever.”

Lance turned and went to pick up the phone. It had been a hard day, Emma felt like the walls were closing in, “I just need to get some air.”

She didn’t wait for a reply instead rushing downstairs and getting straight in her car and driving to the duck pond. She just sat on a bench and stared at the water willing her emotions to get under control. She wanted to scream at everything, yesterday she was happy, genuinely happy. And now she couldn’t even bring herself to be properly annoyed about Silver though logically she should be. All because of fucking Killian Jones. He could have told her, could have let her know about Milah, that Gold was the reason he was here in the first place but he chose lies. How could she trust him now? What if he only started something with her so he could have an ear out for information? She felt physically ill at the thought.

She pulled out her phone, he hadn’t called or texted... he wasn’t even trying to defend himself or his actions. She didn’t know which would be worse this or a empty promise that he really cared about her. Would that even help? She practically jumped off the bench when her phone rang, it was David.

“Where are you?”

Emma ran a hand through her hair, slightly damp from the misty rain she hadn’t even noticed had begun to fall, “I’m just trying to clear my head.”

She heard him sigh, “I wish you would have gone home.”

“I know, I’ll be back in a minute. Did Lance tell you?”

“After chewing me out over keeping him in the dark about the bartender, yeah he told me. I’m going to talk to the cop up in Briarwood and try to organise a search of the area. With what little you got out of Silver its my hunch that we aren’t going to find Teach safe and well. We know what this guy does Emma, he gets rid of people.”

“Why would he get rid of Teach?”

“Because his idiocy put you on his scent maybe,” David guessed.

Emma made a non-committal sound, before an idea struck her, “What if getting arrested, and the prospect of getting charged no matter the reassurances from the lawyer hit a nerve. Maybe he didn’t want to take the fall anymore.”

David’s voice was serious, “If that is the case then Silver is in danger.”

“I’ll track him down, maybe set up some surveillance?”

“Good idea, see you soon?”

It was more than an idle question from boss to employee, it was David asking if she was okay. She felt fresh waves of guilt wash over her, “In a minute.”

She put down the phone and took decidedly more than a minute to get back in her car and back to the station. Happily a grilled cheese was waiting on her desk, and possibly David had warned Lance because he quietly went about his business while Emma got herself organised. Emma didn’t feel like talking yet which both men seemed to have grasped. As soon as she had figured out a plan she headed down to Silver’s place, there was small park across the road and she was careful not to be seen. She could see through his grimy kitchen window he was there. He looked like he was having a conversation with someone. She set up a little motion camera and checked it was all working before leaving.

Heading back to the station she started talking to Lance, she was sufficiently calm enough now. He had informed Philip about the change in circumstance and David was going to head down there tomorrow to partner with him and oversee a search. Emma tried to ignore the nagging feeling that lead her to check her phone every ten seconds. No texts, no missed calls, nothing. She practically bit a hole in her lip willing herself to move on.

It was a hard day, the mornings excitement did not last and the day dragged. Eventually Lance went home, she got the feeling he felt a little guilty. If he hadn’t talked to her then Emma might have been able to get more out of Silver. Realistically it wasn’t his fault, she should have known that Gold would keep a tight eye on Silver after Teach. Not long after she got a call from Henry, just hearing his voice made her feel lighter. He was having the time of his life and elicited the only smile that she had that day with his eternal enthusiasm and happiness. “Mom we even did orienteering, I can’t wait to tell Killian. I can use a compass like the one on his boat now.” At his words her heart dropped, and she felt sick.

“I’m sure he would be impressed kid,” she tried and failed to sound positive.

Henry perceptive as ever noticed straight away, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing Henry, its just been a long day and I miss you. Not to mention I get to spend all night at the station.”

This seemed to be a good enough excuse, “Does Mia miss me too?”

Emma bit back a swear word, she had completely forgotten to feed the cat today. “Erm yeah she won’t shut up. Keeps sitting outside your bedroom waiting for you to open the door.” This wasn’t a complete lie, she had spent a large portion of Monday night doing this which Emma had just ignored.

She heard some talking in the background, “I have to go Mom they are calling us for dinner.”

“Love you Henry, can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

Henry talked a little quieter obviously so his friends wouldn’t hear, “Love you too mom. I can’t wait to see you either, camp is fun and all but I would much rather hang out with you after all the fun stuff stops.”

The rush of emotion was a little overwhelming at his words, “Me too kid, go before all the food is gone. Love you.”

She took a deep breath as she put down the phone, Henry wouldn’t always feel that way. But for now that all he wanted was to hang out with her on the couch like they do made her happy. And today she definitely needed that. But the poor cat needed a bit of love she realised almost forgetting again. Emma ran across the road and nipped into her apartment. Mia was there and at the vibration that Emma’s hasty door slam provoked, her head poked up from he spot on the couch. It had long ago been claimed as a daytime snoozing spot with Emma having to vacuum it regularly to get rid of the build up of white fur that marked it out. She let out a long mournful meow and Emma chuckled, “What’s the bet you haven’t touched what I gave you yesterday anyway.”

Lo and behold the food she had left the night before was only half eaten with Mia only deigning to eat food freshly put down in front of her. Emma loaded her up with posh food and some biscuits trying not to trip as the skinny cat attempted to murder her, doing figure eights around her feet as she got her food. She gave her a little pat as she ate, “Sorry kitty, its no excuse but I had a very bad day today and you completely slipped my mind.”

It seemed she was forgiven as Mia hungrily tucked into her food, so Emma returned to the station. David was there, “Sorry boss was feeding the fluffball.”

“Is she still alive?”

“Somehow, luckily for her Henry does most of feeding and stuff. On that note, is that food?”

David was clutching some Tupperware and he smiled, “Eagle eyes as usual. Thought you should probably eat some food today that isn’t dripping in grease. So this is part of the meals Mary-Margaret left, its some kind of casserole.”

Emma took it gladly, “My hero. And by that I mean Mary-Margaret. Henry called before.”

“He enjoying himself?”

“Yeah, says he misses me.”

David shook his head at her, “Did you even doubt?”

“No... but it was nice to hear all the same.”

“Mary-Margaret called too, I warn you she might be giving you a call.”

Emma winced, “You told her.”

“I can’t lie to her Emma and she asked a very specific question, I didn’t tell her either but she got the gist.” He sighed, “So I warn you to be ready.”

Emma nodded, “Noted.”

“Also I heard back from Kathryn, the have some new evidence. She said as soon as we were ready she would authorise his arrest for the DC stuff. She wants to give us the chance to get him on the other stuff first.”

A smile threatened to break, “What new evidence?”

He held out his phone to show a message from Kathryn, they had some footage from security cameras in the area in which Hordor Morraine lived, and also fingerprints they previously hadn’t been able to attribute to anyone that definitely matched the ones David sent in. “Did you take the fingerprints from my file?”

David nodded, “A copy.”

Emma leaned back in her chair, just like that the day wasn’t a complete bust. Although without Killian’s help it might be hard to know when another shipment was coming in. She would cross that bridge later, for the moment if all else failed they had a passable murder charge. Although Emma had a sneaking suspicion that he might find a way to wriggle out of that one.

David left her to it, Thursday was never really exciting but by morning she had Leroy in a cell sleeping off a black eye and what she imagined was a massive hangover. The black eye he already had when she got to the bar but he was refusing to talk about it which led her to believe even he thought he deserved it. The station was immaculate as to distract herself from her silent phone she had cleaned and cleaned and then even to her own surprise cleaned some more. When David arrived to relieve her he simply gave her a bemused look and let her go home to nap and prepare herself for Henry’s return.

.......................................................

Emma stood at the school gates with the hoards of other parents anxiously awaiting the return of their little ones. Emma gave them all small smiles acknowledging the shared sentiment while not comfortable nor confident enough to insert herself into their little cliques. When the old school bus pulled in she couldn’t help the smile that stretch across her face and sure enough as soon at the door opened while all the other kids went to get their bags, Henry was out like a shot to give her a quick hug before going back when Mary-Margaret shouted him. She was still beaming even under the jealous glares of the other mothers. Mary-Margaret came over with Henry when he had dug his bag out of the bus. Emma ruffled Henry’s hair, “You go put your stuff in the car kid I’ll be there in a minute.”

Mary-Margaret gave her look before holding out her arms to hug Emma, while this was more for her friends benefit Emma acquiesced. “I can’t believe I didn’t get a phone call.”

Mary-Margaret quirked her brow, “Emma after all these years I know you, you like space. You like a minute to figure things out and bury everything before you will let me pull it all back out again.”

Emma couldn’t help but laugh, “Any chance we could skip the second part?”

Her friend shook her head, “Not a chance, so you are going to come over for dinner and we are going to drink wine and you are going to talk and air it all out.”

“I have work on Monday.”

Mary-Margaret wasn’t going to take an inch of her shit, “Well then you will have to come over tomorrow then. And you can both stay the night, David can be the sober parent.”

Emma frowned, “I’m not sure that’s how it works...”

“It is.” With that firm assurance she turned to go and help the rest of the kids get organised leaving Emma wondering when she agreed to any of it.

She had vowed to herself that she wouldn’t think of Killian or work at all tonight and she committed to this mission with gusto. They had proper hot chocolate when they got home while Henry recounted what seemed like every minute of camp in excruciating detail. He even helped to make his favourite dinner so he could continue to talk while she cooked. After dinner he had his pick of his favourite film followed by a slice each of Granny’s pie served a la mode. By 8:30 Henry was comatose and with some effort Emma picked him up and took him to his room tucking him in bed like she did when he was little. She stroked his hair out of his face and gave him a peck on the cheek, staring at him sleeping a little longer than was normal and only leaving when Mia jumped up on the bed ready to settle in beside him.

#cs ff #cs ff au #cs fanfics #cs fic #a good catch #enjoy:)

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sprnklersplashes · 7 years

Text

Broken Beauty (3/?)

"Anything interesting?" Milah asked, bringing over two mugs and a plate of biscuits. Belle had been scanning newspapers for job vacancies with a red Sharpie in her hand, figuring that she might as well start bringing some money in if she was staying.

"Cleaner in a supermarket," she suggested.

"What, at six in the bloody morning? And you'd need to get the Underground." Belle pulled a face at the thought and kept scanning.

"You know you don't have to do this. Between myself and Emma-"

"No I want to," Belle insisted. "It's the least I can do after all you've done for me."

"It was nothing." Milah gave her usual glowing smile at Belle. She had this effect on Belle, making her feel calmer just by being next to her; she could soothe her spirit with a few words and sometimes make her forget about him altogether. She also made her smile back and made it easier to breathe. She found herself more at peace when she was with Milah (not that Killian and Emma weren't great to have around).

"There. Looking after kids. Two eleven year old twins, Ava and Nicolas. I could do that," Belle said, putting a star next to the job.

"How much are they paying?"

"£5.75 an hour. From three to seven." Milah nodded, working out the maths in her eyes.

"Not bad."

"Here's another one. A babysitter for a one year old girl, Monday-Saturday, nine to two."

"You could take the baby then go to the older kids." Belle nodded, taking notes of their addresses. "Eleven that's a... really great age to be at, apparently." Milah rubbed her ring finger softly, a habit Belle had noticed but didn't want to bring up in conversation. She started moving her lips slightly but Belle couldn't hear what she was saying.

"Milah?" she asked softly. "Are you okay?" When she could see in Milah's eyes that she wasn't with her, Belle tentatively reached out and touched her arm, causing her to jump at the contact, knocking her mug away. "Oh god I'm sorry."

"It's fine, really." Milah ran to the kitchen and hurried back with some kitchen roll to mop up the spilled tea.

"Milah." Belle got down to Milah's level. "Are you okay?" Milah's hair sheilded her face.

"I'm fine." Her voice was shaking but Belle didn't press, simply helped her clean up and returned to her job hunt.

"Hey," Milah said a half hour later when she emerged from the kitchen, all traces of the incident gone. "I just got a text from her and it reminded me, my friend Ruby runs a bookshop with her girlfriend and they're looking for staff."

"That would be amazing," Belle exclaimed as Milah took her place next to her again.

"I can call Ruby tomorrow morning and talk to her. It's literally a bus ride away and she won't even interview you."

"Milah that's perfect," Belle giggled quietly. Milah nodded, still looking uncomfortable. Unsure of what to do Belle started picking up the papers and putting them back planning to go to bed (well, the sofa) as soon as she was finished.

"I had a kid once," Milah blurted out. Belle spun around, half wondering if she hadn't heard correctly. Milah herself looked confused as to whether or not she had actually said it.

"You did?" Belle squeaked, not knowing what else to say. Milah took a deep breath and motioned for Belle to sit back down, which she did. "Milah you don't have to tell me-"

"I know. I just want to." Belle nodded and Milah continued. "When I was young, really young, in my twenties, I had-I was married. And I had a kid. But it-I mean I....."

"It didn't work out?" Milah shook her head, her eyes glistening with tears. She didn't have to explain.

"No, no it didn't. So when he was about six I left. I just....." Without thinking, Belle grasped Milah's hand, running her thumb along the back of her hand and tracing comforting circles.

"So that's why you reacted like that?"

"Yeah. And he's older now. He doesn't need me anymore."

"Did you ever see him again?" Something told her she shouldn't ask but they were in such a private moment that they could reveal anything.

"He found me. Told me he'd ran away from his father. He was 14, bless him. But he didn't want me either and after I left him with him I can't blame him. "Milah, you mustn't say that," Belle muttered. "You had to do what was best for you."

"Maybe I did. But that doesn't mean I didn't abandon him. Anyway he found a place. He was with his friends from school." Milah reached under her shirt and pulled out a gold locket and showed the picture inside to Belle. It was a dark haired child with chubby cheeks and dimples and sparkling brown eyes. "Cute wasn't he?"

"He really was. Milah if you don't mind-"

"Neal. His name was Neal." It was quiet for a while as Milah recovered from her confession.

"Thank you," Belle whispered. Milah gave her a sad smile as she linked her fingers with hers.

Belle started realising that maybe Milah had seen herself in Belle that day in the coffee shop. She imagined a younger version of her sitting on the streets with no one to take her in and a heart full of regret.

Milah slept on the armchair next to Belle's sofa that night.

***** Belle and Milah rattled down the road in Emma's bug which Milah had borrowed. Apparently, Milah's friend was overjoyed at the prospect of extra help and wanted to meet her right away.

"Nice place," Belle remarked as she stepped out, looking at the two-story building with 'Welcome to Storybrooke' written above the door. "Cute name too."

Inside the walls had built in shelves and quotes from books written around them. The shelves were only half filled with cardboard boxes along the floor, which was a soft red carpet. They approached the till, which was sitting on a white plastic table. With no one around, Milah shrugged and pinged the bell at the counter.

A girl came running down from the metal staircase in the corner so quickly that Belle didn't get a chance to look at her until she was in front of her. A tall thin woman with brown hair with a streak of red tied back in a ponytail and a wide bright smile.

"Ruby, hey," Milah greeted. "Uh this is...."

"Belle," Ruby finished. "Belle French, oh my goodness."

"Ruby Lucas?" Belle laughed, recognising her immediately.

"You know her?" Milah asked.

"Back when I was a college student I did a year in Australia and we met there," Ruby explained.

"She took a year in my university, so we were in all the same Lit classes together. And then we kept in touch and moved to London together."

"It is a small, small world," Ruby remarked. "I mean what's it been, three years? Four?" Belle's smile wavered as she remembered Gold pushing Ruby away from her almost immediately after they met, disliking her and dropping hints until she never came round and Belle never got out. Realising she'd made the situation uncomfortable, Ruby changed the subject. "Oh you remember Dorothy?" As if on cue, Dorothy came running in carrying two more boxes, her dark curls tied back in a messy ponytail and her green plaid shirt tucked into her jeans.

"Of course I do," Belle said. "Hey, Dorothy."

"Belle," she greeted, dropping the boxes and shaking her hand warmly. "Long time no see."

"These two got together the first week we were in London," Belle explained to Milah. "And you stuck with her it seems."

"That I did." Dorothy turned and motioned for Belle to follow. "Come on. Let me show you around the place. Then you can help with the unpacking." With a final smile to Milah Belle followed Dorothy down the hall.

"She seems nice," Ruby said.

"She is. She's great, really. And she loves books too so she'll be amazing here."

"Oh." Ruby smirked and started filling out some forms on the table.

"What 'oh'?" Milah inquired.

"Nothing. Just that you seem to really like her."

"I do. I mean what's not to like." Ruby simply gave a shrug as a response. Milah made her way to the door only to rush back to the counter. "What do you mean 'oh'?"

"I mean," Ruby laughed, putting her papers away. "That you seem to think this girl is special. Very special in fact."

"I do. She is."

"And you look at her like...."

"If you say 'I look at Dorothy' I will slap you."

"I was going to say like she's the sun or something but that works." When Milah rolled her eyes Ruby sighed and walked around to face her. "Milah, you're my friend. And I care about you. And I care abotu Belle too. I want you two to be happy, especially after what you guys have been through. So what are you waiting for? Ask her out."

Ask her out. The thought of Belle and her out at some restaurant did make her smile. Then there was the thought of Belle lacing her fingers through hers as they walked home, pressing soft kisses to Belle's forehead.....

"See you later, Ruby." As if nothing had happened, Milah ran out the door before Ruby could notice her pink cheeks.

***** "To Belle's new job!" Emma cheered as the glasses of red wine clinked together. Milah had texted Emma and Killian ahead of time and they had pulled together a special dinner to celebrate; three large pizzas, a bottle of red wine and two types of cheesecake, all from the M&S foodhall.

"You guys really didn't need to do all this," Belle said, gesturing to the food.

"Of course we did it's a special occasion," Killian protested. Belle smiled and pulled Gideon closer to her to stop him reaching for the pizza. He was big now and trying to walk himself (Belle usually held his hands as he made a few steps forward before he collapsed again).

"So what are you spending the first paycheck on?" Emma asked through a mouthful of margarita.

"I'm treating you guys," Belle answered.

"Belle you don't have to do that," Milah assured her.

"I know." The corners of Belle's mouth twitced into a smile. "I just want to is all." Before Milah could blush again she took another bite of pizza and swiftly changed the topic.

***** Milah was putting plates and glasses away by the end of the night, Killian was taking the rubbish down to the skip outside and Emma was getting ready for work. Belle paced the living room, gently rocking Gideon to sleep.

"And there we go. Now maybe you'll actually stay asleep for more than three hours now, wouldn't that be nice?" she whispered as she settled him into the crib Emma had borrowed from her brother David, saying her nephew Leo had grown out of it. She then crept to the kitchen and began helping put the last of the plates away, earning her a small smile from Milah, but she could tell something wasn't right. Milah kept pulling at the dishtowel frantically.

"Hey, Milah," Belle asked softly. "Are you okay?"

"Um yeah," she answered. "I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine," Belle whispered, thinking back to when she had remembered Neal. "Milah...."

"Belle." Milah turned to face her. "Would you maybe.... I mean if you're free one night and.... Well we'd need someone to mind Gideon of course but would you maybe want to go out.... For a drink maybe? Or there's a restaurant down the road."

Belle tried to process what had just happened. Milah had asked her to go out. She had suggested a restaurant. If she didn't know better......

"Milah are you trying to ask me out on a.... on a date?" she asked. Milah ducked her head but not before Belle could see her face. She was crushed. "Um, I'm so sorry Belle. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Just forget I said anything."

Milah had asked her out. And she was happy about it. She hadn't been on a proper date since Gold had taken her out years ago.

Still, she didn't know if her heart was ready to get back into a relationship. She was still picking up the broken pieces. But then maybe Milah could be the one who helps put them back together.

"Milah," Belle whispered, taking her hand and stepping closer. "I need to do something." Belle moved in and pressed her lips to Milah's. Milah gasped and kissed her back, circling her arms around Belle's waist. Belle pulled away and Milah leaned forward for a split second before pulling back, her cheeks pink. "So that was a yes, right?"

***** Milah was looking at herself in the wardrobe mirror one last time. She didn't have any dresses but had found a deep red v neck and black skinny jeans that would work just as well, maybe even better. Her hair was in a braid hanging over her shoulder, a few loose strands hanging around her face.

"How do I look?" she asked Killian, who sat on her bed.

"Like a million bucks," he replied, winking at her. "Lovely, Milah, lovely."

"Do you think Belle will-"

"She will my darling, trust me." He glanced at his watch and stood up. "And that would be the time wouldn't it?" Milah rolled her eyes and walked to the door, only to have Killian open it for her.

Belle stood in the living room talking to Emma, who held Gideon. Whatever they were talking about, Emma seemed to be reassuring Belle of something. Belle was in a white blouse and navy skirt, her hair only held back by a few pins. If Milah could use one word, it was stunning.

"You look lovely, Belle," she said.

"Thanks. So do you." Belle smiled and her whole face seemed to light up.

"Okay well, kids I don't meant to hurry you but you guys have seven o'clock reservations," Emma chimed in. "And it is six fourty five so...." While holding Gideon she carefully nudged them towards the front door, both of them picking up their purses on the way out.

"Have fun, have her back by 11, don't do anything we wouldn't do," Killian called as they closed the door, leaving them outside.

"So," Belle asked, taking a deep breath before holding her hand out to Milah. "Are you ready?"

Milah didn't need to say anything. She just had to reach out and take Belle's hand.

#pirate beauty #ouat ff #milah x belle #belle french #milah #some red kansas and cs #anti rumbelle

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