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elliewritessometimes · 3 years

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hello! me n @mattieswheelers wrote another fic!! tiff is the most incredible writing partner and i- i just love them???? thanky so much for writing with me you are a stunning writer aaaa (y'all there will be a second chapter stay tuned fdhhddh aLSO we are posting this on ao3 it will be there at some point)

in other news: this was originally a request!! @notsomightymightytiger it may have taken me uh- a good couple of months but here is your fic!!!

for reference, these numbers apply to these tropes: first kiss/flowers of romance/blind date

LOVE YOU KIERA AND TIFF AAAAA HOPE YOU LIKE

tw: swearing, alcohol and drunkenness but not in an angsty farrah way just in a silly oops first date way, as per usual if there's anything at all you want me to tag let me know :D

---

Eva thought she was doing perfectly fine without a romantic partner. Her life was normal, one filled with work and friends and scrolling through Pinterest.

Apparently, in the eyes of her best friend, this was not a normal life. Farrah had always been a bit extra, that one kid in highschool who always seemed to know where the best parties were, or who was known by name to the baristas at the local Starbucks, and by the ripe old age of 22, she believed that a romantic partner was crucial to living a fulfilling life.

Or, at least, that you should at least try romance once before becoming a hermit in the woods, especially if your name was Eva Sanchez.

(“Look, normally I wouldn’t be like this,” Farrah drawled, leaning against a counter, “But deep inside you are nothing but a useless gay at heart-”

Her phone buzzed.

“-and you haven’t dated anyone, like, ever, and if I have to be the only one constantly dragging you out to social gatherings, I’m going to die early. So do me a solid, will you?”

“Hey-!”)

Eva did not agree.

But, she was a loyal friend, and that was how she found herself sitting in an overly posh restaurant on some random blind date with some random person that she’d never even seen before. It would be an understatement to say she was a little bit nervous, but then again, whenever Farrah was involved, that was normal.

***********: hi sorry i got your number from the blind date place thing but uh are you the person at the table in the corner

***********: ???denim jacket ?? pride pin??

Eva smiled, glancing up at the door. There was another person looking a little lost in the entrance, very obviously trying not to draw attention to themselves, their phone held close to their face as they squinted around at the restaurant. They were pretty, dark hair pulled up into a loose ponytail, obviously not dressed for a restaurant as upper class as this one. Eva liked them immediately. Raising a hand, she waved in their direction, laughing as her date gasped dramatically, hurrying over and nearly overturning a tray of drinks on their way.

“Hello.”

“Look-” Eva’s date slumped in the seat opposite, one hand awkwardly held behind their back. “I dunno about you, but I certainly did not willingly sign up for this. You see, my friend wanted me to apparently live a more interesting life and stop relying on Tumblr as my only source of interaction with anyone, and my friend is very persuasive, so here I am.”

Eva raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, so I wanted to get that out of the way before we even introduce ourselves. I am here out of spite only, so, uh, I hope you’re not too desperate.” They paused, finally taking a breath. “Right. The more I think about this, the more embarrassed I get.”

“It’s okay.” Eva gave a noise which sounded suspiciously like a snort. “Let’s not think about it then. I’m Eva. She/her. It’s nice to meet you, unwilling datemate.”

They grinned. “Kate. She/they.” She gasped a little like she’d forgotten something. “Oh! I brought flowers. Chess said it would be romantic.”

Eva accepted the offered flowers with a blush. This date was going better than expected. Farrah was going to lose her shit when she heard about it. “Wait- You have a friend called Chess?? Like, the game???”

Kate rolled their eyes, casually snatching a bright pink cocktail off a passing waiter’s tray. “Duh. You didn’t really see me walk in this fucking posh ass restaurant in my flannel and converse and think I’d be normal, right?”

Eva laughed then, properly. It had only been a few short, chaotic minutes, but she was already warming to this mystery person and, God, they had good taste in flowers. Even if Eva’s nerd hermit brain did helpfully choose that moment to remind her that this particular bunch of flowers presented a meaning that translated almost exactly to ‘fuck you’. She wondered if Kate was aware of that. However, perhaps that was a fun fact for the second date.

“Hey, Eva?” Kate was slightly tipsy. Only a little bit! Really not that bad. Not at all. Definitely not too drunk for a first date. Shut up. “Hey! You’re- so cool.”

Eva giggled - she was equally as drunk, but not quite so intoxicated as to stop wondering why the restaurant hadn’t thrown them out yet. “Noooooo. ‘m a nerd.”

“Yeah, but a cool nerd.” Kate twirled the decorative candle between her fingers, drawing stares from disapproving patrons. The flame reflected in Eva’s glasses, making her just a little bit more smitten by the second. They enclosed their hand around the candle holder as best they could, standing up just a little shakily. “Eva-” It was like they got a rush from just saying her name. Eva thought it was endearing. “Hey- we- we should go…”

“Why?” She narrowed her eyes, also standing up, her long-discarded denim jacket slung over one arm, the other naturally slipping to link arms with Kate.

“....Arson.” Kate sounded entirely serious, still twizzling the candle in one hand. Eva blinked dumbly at her, mouth slightly open. They pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Eva’s mouth, giggling uncharacteristically at the motion. “I’m jokingggg! Don’t look so shook, my dude.”

Eva stuttered a little, letting Kate pull her finally out of the restaurant, marvelling at the fact she’d only known this incredible, crazy person for a matter of hours. Who knew where tonight would take them?

They found themselves in a park, gazing up at the stars, now dim in the reflections of the city lights. Kate’s phone flashed 11:46 in the dark, the lock screen filled with notifications from a contact who’s name consisted only of a chess piece.

Eva lay down on the grass, spreading her arms out towards the stars. “Do you ever think about life?”

“Sure. All the time. I’m alive, and so are you, and I think you’re really pretty. Does that count?” Kate flopped down beside her.

“I- I mean, yeah- um,” Eva tried not to sound flustered, thankful for the darkness that hid the color rising in her cheeks. “But like, life. Scientifically. Relatively.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah, I totally do. Um. Do I?”

Eva laughed, turning her head slightly to gaze at Kate. Under the light of the stars, they looked… ethereal. And really, really, really beautiful. And-

Eva coughed slightly, turning back towards the night sky. “Just… think about it. I’m lying here beside you, on a giant marble that hurtles through space. Relatively speaking, our orbit and path are unique, and all around us, the other planets are… swirling in harmony, and we’re just. We’re just here to see it.”

Kate hummed. “You sound like those philosophical people, all ‘if a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, did it really fall?’ and ‘relatively speaking I am relatively here, and I’m relatively certain… blah blah blah.’”

“Huh. Do I?” Eva shrugged, putting her hands behind her head. “I dunno. I’m drunk. I think. Oh, no, I’m relatively drunk, ha ha- okay no, I’m just drunk.”

“You are,” Kate nodded wisely. “We both are.”

“Do you know what Albert Einstein said once?” Eva asked abruptly, closing her eyes. “He said, ‘When you’re courting a nice girl, an hour seems like a second. When you sit on a red-hot cinder, a second seems like an hour. That's relativity.’ And if that isn’t the most relatable thing he’s ever said, then, well- okay yeah I’ve lost my train of thought.”

“Wow,” said Kate. “Did Albert Einstein court lots of nice girls?”

“Pfft.” Eva rolled onto her side, laughing openly in Kate’s face. “Sure. Why not.”

They rolled to face Eva, curling up into a ball, softer than the 22-year-old had seen her all evening. “Not as nice as the one I’m courting right now.”

“Even though neither of us really wanted to be here earlier?”

“Yeah. Y’know, I’m fucking glad our best friends basically set us up. It’s very pog of them.”

“You did not just say ‘pog’. You did not.” Eva groaned into the slightly damp, slightly disgusting grass, listening to Kate cackle next to her.

“Shit, dude, my secret’s out. I’m just as much of a nerd as you.” She leant their head on Eva’s outstretched arm, burrowing into her side.

Eva paused then, draping her other arm around Kate, thinking quietly. It was stupid, really, that they were cuddling in the openness of a park at almost midnight. Dangerous, definitely, especially when you took in the candle still flickering far too close to Kate’s now loose hair. Some more sensible people, maybe Farrah’s sister, would say that it was stupid how close they’d grown in so few hours. But Kate and Eva weren’t sensible people, not really, and maybe this was completely normal for them. Nerds lived life differently. “We’re not like other girls… we’re nerds.”

Kate barked out a laugh again, pressing yet another small kiss to the top of Eva’s head.

Eva thought she might melt into a puddle right then and there.

God, she was so in love.

Kate looked up at the sky. “Y’know, for all your philosophical talk, you should be an inspirational speaker. Be on goddamn TedTalks or something, blow the crowd away with all that ‘the future’s in the palm of my hand!!’ bullshit.”

“Well,” Eva said, trying to sound completely sober (and failing), “I think all I could ever want is in the palm of my hand, right now.”

Kate paused for a moment, registering the fact that Eva had just cupped her hands around their face. “Wow. That was smooth.”

“Right?? I’m honestly impressed and I was the one who said it. Wait, is that hubris? Oh shoot, am I developing an ego? Or maybe I’m just drunk?” Eva’s head was seriously starting to hurt.

“You deserve an ego,” Kate nodded sagely. “You are so amazing. Seriously. You should have an ego. Dab on the haters and all that jazz, right? Right.”

Eva giggled, unable to take her eyes away from Kate’s. “What the shit?”

“Dude! Dab on the haters. ‘m fuckin’ right, and you know I am.”

“Mkay.”

“Lit.” Kate dragged her gaze from Eva’s, instead staring up at the stars. “If we weren’t drunk right now, I’d be kissing the hell out of you.”

Eva pouted. Apparently Drunk-Eva was limited to the facial expressions of a twelve year old. “Who’s to say you can’t kiss me now.”

“We’re drunk, Eva.” They waved their hands, casually flipping off the moon. “Consent.”

“If you think about drunk...ness. Drunkenness? Drunkness. Whatever.” She coughed. “If you think about it like maths, then because we’re both drunk, it cancels out, right? Like, drunk you minus drunk me equals zero drunks overall, yeah?” Pausing, she ran a hand over her face, watching Kate smirk and wriggle closer out of the corner of her eye. “What I’m saying is, yes, I give you permission to kiss me-” Kate leaned closer and Eva laid a gentle finger on their lips. “But only if I get to kiss you back.”

The two met in the middle, naturally coming together. Some might describe them as magnets, two poles attracted, unable to stay away from each other. Others might say soulmates, meant to find each other from birth. Or, just maybe, stars, gravitationally pulled together, ready to explode into another plane of existence, one so different from our reality that we can’t even begin to imagine the wonders that they’ll find.

However, this is reality, and somehow Kate and Eva are still grounded on our Earth, stars maybe, but ones made of ancient stardust no longer free to travel the universe. They found themselves pulling apart after two worlds collided, an unknown period of time passing as it happened. Eva’s fingers didn’t untangle themselves from their comfortable seat amongst Kate’s hair, the closeness making their noses brush, spouting giggles from both young adults.

“Well, that was fun.” Kate brushed hair out of Eva’s face, one arm still wrapped tight around her waist, pulling her closer as she shivered in the night air.

“Yeah?” Eva pressed her forehead to theirs. “Why don’t we try it again, huh?”

---

“I told you so,” Farrah smirked, picking at a freshly baked blueberry muffin. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Eva huffed, failing to come up with an argument.

Over by the kitchen counter, Mattie snorted. “I find it kinda funny that the single girl insists that love is the answer to anything.”

“Well- it’s not like I’ve never dated!”

“Suuuuure,” Mattie rolled her eyes, hopping off the counter and snatching a muffin. “Anyways, at least Eva has a significant other now. That’s the biggest victory, right? Other than the celebratory muffins, of course.”

Eva sighed. “Is it really that big of a deal that Farrah’s plan worked?”

“Yep!” Farrah grinned, taking a bite of muffin.

“Technically, my plan, but okay,” Mattie shrugged.

Eva almost dropped her muffin. “What.”

Mattie grinned, a devilish glint appearing in her eye. “Believe it or not, I am also friends with none other than the amazing Chess, and since her friend Kate- who is also my friend, by the way- was being a mopey mess around the same time as you, I just had to take it upon myself to play matchmaker! So I’d like at least 50% of the credit and reward, please and thank you.”

“I- what-” Eva sputtered, trying to come to terms with the new information. “Mattie- you- oh my God.”

“Oh my God indeed,” Mattie bit into her muffin and swallowed. “So anyways, you’re welcome for getting you a girlfriend.”

Eva stared at the younger girl, mouth slightly open and muffin hanging loosely in her hand. Farrah clapped a hand over her mouth as she wheezed through a mess of sugar and blueberries, earning herself a death stare from Eva. Phone in one hand, Mattie continued eating her muffin as though nothing had happened, the teasing look on her face only exaggerating as her phone pinged with a message. “Oh! Speaking of, Chess is outside-”

She was cut off as the door burst open, the handle crashing into Eva’s bookcase, knocking her alarm clock to the ground and presenting two dishevelled figures in the doorway. One of them, a tall student probably in their last year of uni, puffed out a breath, a hand tightly clinging to a much shorter student squirming angrily. “Before you say anything, I tried to prevent any of this happening. Wheeler, I’m blaming you entirely for this.”

Mattie only laughed, offering Chess a muffin with her free hand, “Dude, it was totally your idea.”

Eva tried very hard not to stare as Kate finally freed herself from Chess’ grasp with an indignant yelp. “Fuck off! Eva, babe, sweetheart, love of my life, tell me you didn’t fucking know about this beforehand or I will break up with you.”

“No! God, no! You know I didn’t want to be there just as much as you did.” She rested her head gently on top of Kate’s, arms draped over their shoulders. “Believe you me, I’ve also been sorely betrayed today.”

Farrah gagged across the kitchen. “Ew. We should never have set you two up.”

“Bitch.” Eva grinned affectionately at her best friend, batting Kate’s hand down as they sent a middle finger in Farrah’s direction. Conversations carried on for a while, Chess finally being introduced to Farrah, with a muffin being forcefully placed into her hand. Kate whispered to Eva for a second before going out to take a call. Eva smiled knowingly, leaning on the counter to address Mattie, “So…”

Mattie made a face as Eva raised an eyebrow in her direction. “What are you thinking, Sanchez, I don’t like that face.”

“I don’t know…” She feigned thinking, sticking her tongue out as Kate re-entered the room. “Maybe, a little thank-you gift?? Y’know, me and Kate were thinking just now… Seeing as you set us up so nicely, how about you try a blind date yourself?”

Chess and Farrah stifled a laugh in unison, choking a little on their muffins as Mattie’s eyes got wider in horror. “You didn’t.”

Kate smiled sweetly. “Yup! Tonight, seven thirty. It’s payback time, kid.”

“I hate you.”

#ITS HERE #AAAAA IM SO HYPED ABOUT THIS #fhsbdhsbdjs #tiff is the most wonderful writing partner i could ever ask for i love them so much heck #aLSO KIERA LOOKY #fhsbdjsn #caps tw #swearing tw #alcohol mention #Proper Tag Time™#we are the tigers #kate dalton #eva sanchez #kateva #chess watt #tiff (co author now we're a business)#kiera (yay for gay)

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wistfulcynic · 4 years

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Love Blooms

Summary: Princess Emma and Lieutenant Killian Jones have been together for three years. They’re deeply in love and an engagement is imminent. There’s only one problem: His brother doesn’t know about them, and Killian isn’t sure how to tell him. So when Liam finds out by accident, all that’s left is for Emma and Killian to fill him in on the story of how they met.

This is that story.

(a prequel--and sequel--to Error 404: “Little” Brother Not Found)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @mariakov81!!! My lovely, brilliantly talented Masha, you are a pure delight. Your gif responses make me laugh and your art makes me cry. Your enthusiasm and love of fic is so inspiring and your encouragement is one of the reasons I’m still writing. I love you lots. 😘

You mentioned that you’d like to read a meet-cute, so I hope this one pleases you. Have a FANTASTIC day ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Rating: G Words: 4.3k Tags: Lieutenant Duckling, Modern Lieutenant Duckling, Modern Royalty AU, Brothers Jones, College AU, Meet-Cute

On AO3

Love Blooms:

It should have worked, really. As risky plans go, it was a pretty solid one. It should absolutely have worked.

Princess Emma was easily recognisable, of course. As the only royal child and heir to the throne she’d been photographed extensively all her life, and those photos disseminated throughout the kingdom. But they were always taken in controlled situations, with her hair carefully styled and her clothing precisely engineered to invoke a very specific image. Her parents made absolutely certain of that.

After the attempted coup by the queen’s stepmother on the day of the princess’s birth, the king and queen had taken decisive action to protect their only child and to ensure that no one but trusted personnel had access to her. On the rare occasions when she left the expansive palace grounds, no paparazzi followed her and none of Misthaven’s citizens so much as snuck a sneaky pic with a cell phone. Emma was to have protection and privacy until she came of age and officially took on her royal duties. That was the deal her parents made with the press and the people, and they enforced it rigidly.

It should have worked. Emma’s most recognisable feature—her long, bright gold hair—was dyed a temporary dirty blonde (her mother nearly cried) and her green eyes shielded by large glasses. Most days she pulled her hair back in a ponytail and wore no makeup. She dressed in jeans and t-shirts, like any other college kid. It was a good plan. It should have worked.

She hadn’t reckoned on Killian Jones.

She’d known him for a few years, sort of. For several months of the summer she was sixteen while his brother served as a member of her personal guard, Killian had hovered around the edges of her world, thin and gawky and usually with his nose in a book. The one time they were introduced he’d gulped visibly and made an awkward bow, then got away as soon as he could. But not before he’d made an impression.

She wasn’t sure what it was about him that caught her eye—possibly the way he seemed to be trying so hard not to catch it, or the size and variety of the books she saw him reading, or the way he would smirk and roll his eyes whenever he heard something he thought inane (which happened fairly frequently; polite conversation at court was not exactly scintillating). Possibly it was just those eyes, the bright, clear blue of them and the intelligence and humour she was sure she detected in their depths. Whatever it was it made butterflies dance in her belly whenever she saw him, and though they exchanged no more than a dozen words in the months he was at court she couldn’t seem to get him out of her head.

“What does your brother do?” she’d asked Commander Jones one afternoon, as casually as she could.

“He’s starting at the university in the autumn,” the commander replied, pride audible in his voice. “Going to study physics and engineering.”

“Wow.” Emma wished she didn’t find that so impressive.

“He’s a smart lad,” said Commander Jones with a grin. “He’ll change the world, mark my words.”

Emma marked them, though she asked no further questions. It wouldn’t do to appear too interested.

That was August. By October Killian Jones was gone from her life and so was his brother, the elder Jones off to serve on Misthaven’s flagship and the younger of course, to the university. And that really should have been the end of it.

Her desire to go to university herself had nothing to do with Killian, it truly didn’t. She hadn’t forgotten he was there, exactly, but her determination to attend had far more to do with her status as heir to the throne and wishing to be as prepared as she possibly could be when she became queen.

“But your tutors have given you the best education you could have,” her mother pointed out. “You’ve studied the history and political structure of Misthaven and all its allies and enemies. You’ve read all our country’s great books and know the history of our art. You speak six languages. That’s far more knowledge than I had when I became queen. What else are you looking for?”

“I want a chance to get to know the people I’m going to be ruling,” said Emma. “That’s one thing you had that I don’t. I’ve spent my whole life in the palace, and I know you kept me here for my own safety but I’m nineteen now and I want to meet people. Real ones. Ones who don’t know I’m the princess.”

“Emma—”

“Just give me a year,” she pleaded. “Just a year to go to college and live like a normal student. I’ll wear a disguise and go by a different name, you can even plant guards around me if you must but please, please just let me do this.”

In the end her parents relented. Her mother, despite her tears at the new hair colour, had been unconvinced that the small changes Emma made to her appearance would be enough of a disguise, but Emma insisted they were plenty and her father backed her up.

“Do you know why no one figured out Clark Kent was Superman?” Emma asked, as King David nodded approvingly behind her. “It wasn’t because putting on glasses was such an intricate disguise. It’s because the idea of Superman working at a newspaper was so completely absurd. No one saw a superhero in an ordinary reporter and no one’s going to see the princess of the realm in an ordinary literature major. People see what they expect to see.”

And they had. All of them. All except Killian Jones.

She really hadn’t reckoned on him.

She settled in well to college life, though it was not the easiest transition going from her own suite of rooms in the palace to a tiny dorm shared with another student, a bright, chatty girl called Ruby. Ruby was easygoing and outgoing and always going. She loved to party and whenever she went out tried to coax Emma along as well, and though Emma really had gone to college with the intent to study, she reasoned that her main aim in being there was to get to know her people, and what better way to do that than at a party?

Which is how she found herself two weeks into her first semester standing in the living room of a run-down student house, sipping valiantly at some locally-brewed ale and trying to remember the names of all the people Ruby introduced her to, and trying to remember that when they said ‘Anna,’ they were talking to her.

She was chatting with a boy called Walsh who had a supercilious smile and, she soon realised, a very high opinion of himself, when her flagging attention was caught by shrieks of laughter coming from the other side of the room. She glanced over in search of their source then immediately looked again, blinking rapidly to keep her eyes from bugging out of her head.

There across the room, surrounded by a largish group of people—one of whom, Emma noted, was Ruby—stood Killian Jones. It was him, she was sure of it, sure that she would recognise him anywhere, but oh, the changes time had wrought on the boy she’d known. She wasn’t sure if he really was any taller but he looked it, standing straight with his shoulders squared. There was stubble on his jaw and hair on his chest, clearly displayed by the undone buttons of his henley, and his eyes—so much brighter when not hidden behind thick glasses—twinkled as he delivered a quip that had everyone around him exploding in fresh peals of mirth.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him, staring so hard she could see the exact moment he sensed her gaze and turned, his own eyes widening immediately in recognition. Of course he recognised her, Emma thought, he would; however older and cooler and hotter he might be now he was still the smartest boy she’d ever met and Superman’s disguise could not fool him.

He stared at her for the longest moment of her life and then he winked—the worst excuse for a wink she’d ever seen—and turned his attention back to his crowd. Emma breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t going to blow her cover.

She realised with a start that Walsh had kept on talking this whole time and she hadn’t heard a word he said. He seemed to realise that too, finally, and scowled at her.

“Hey,” he said. “Earth to Anna.”

“Sorry.” She offered a polite smile. “My mind wandered.”

“Well, wander it back over here,” he said. “I was telling you all about my Reddit subgroup I started, and you weren’t even listening.”

“Sorry,” she repeated. “Though actually, would you excuse me, I—”

“Are you kidding me?” he snapped, his scowl darkening. “I bring you a drink, come all the way over here to talk to you. All I ask in return is a little bit of attention and you can’t even give me that.”

“I—”

“I’m a nice guy, you know,” he continued, moving closer. “I’d treat you right. Don’t think I didn’t see who you were looking at just now. If you think those guys would treat you better than I—”

“Look, Welsh—” Emma interrupted, bristling at his presumption and his tone.

“It’s Walsh.”

“Yes, sorry, Walsh. Um, I don’t know what you think this is, but we only just met. We’ve been talking for ten minutes and it’s basically been you monologuing about Reddit the whole time. If you’re really looking to connect with people it might be better to ask them something about themselves instead of dominating the conversation.”

“Oh, right, because it’s all about you, isn’t it?”

“That’s not what I—”

“You’re not even that pretty, you know,” he sneered. “Glasses are really unattractive on a woman.”

Emma began to sputter with indignation. No one had ever spoken to her in such a way before and she was outraged to learn that there were men in her realm who felt that it was acceptable to insult women as long as they weren’t royalty, apparently. Walsh smirked as she struggled to find words vile enough to express her opinion of him, and then a deep voice spoke from just over her shoulder.

“Perhaps you’re the one who needs glasses, mate, if that’s what you really think.”

Emma didn’t even need the butterflies leaping up in her belly to know that the voice was Killian’s. Her heart began to pound in time to the butterflies’ dance as she turned to find him standing just behind her, glowering darkly at Walsh. “I’m certain the lady told you she’s not interested, so why don’t you bugger off back to whatever rock you crawled out from under?” he snarled.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” blustered Walsh.

“And yet I just did.”

“Who the hell do you think you are—”

“He’s my boyfriend.” Emma jumped in before the scene could escalate, blurting the first thing that popped into her head. Walsh gaped at her, so astounded that he failed to notice Killian’s own slack jaw and bugging eyes. Killian recovered quickly, however, and casually looped an arm around Emma’s shoulders.

“Aye,” he said. “I am.”

Emma slipped her own arm around his waist, leaning her head against his shoulder and doing her best not to faint. He was surprisingly sturdy and he smelled so good. She wanted to bury her nose in his neck and just breathe.

“So stop trying it on with my girlfriend and piss off,” he said, tightening his arm to tuck her more securely against his side while also managing to loom over Walsh through the sheer force of his personality, despite them being more or less of a height.

Walsh glared at Killian and then at Emma and then back to Killian again, and when neither of them budged he reached out and snatched the cup of ale from Emma’s hand.

“I’ll be taking that back, then,” he huffed, and marched away.

“Thank goodness,” said Emma. “It was not pleasant.”

“Dwarf ale,” remarked Killian. “Not for the faint of stomach.”

Emma chuckled and looked up at him, into those bright blue eyes that had never faded from her memory. He grinned back at her, a grin with an edge it hadn’t had three years ago, and she caught her breath.

“Killian—” she began, then his eyes went wide with horror and his ears flushed bright pink. He pulled his arm away so quickly she stumbled and stepped back, rubbing the back of his neck. “Bloody hell,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, Em—er, Your High—”

“Shhhh,” hissed Emma, grabbing his arm and pulling him into a quiet corner. “Careful or you’ll blow my cover. My name’s Anna now. Anna Swan.”

His tense expression relaxed and he raised an eyebrow. “Swan, hmm? Interesting choice.”

“Yeah, it’s a—well, it’s a story. Kind of a long one.”

He smiled, the eager, interested smile she remembered so well. “I have time. If you’d care to tell it?”

He got her a drink, a sweet, fizzy one this time laced with just a few drops from his cup of Glowerhaven rum. They stood close together in the darkened corner and he listened intently as she told him about her childhood fondness for the palace swans, their elegant beauty and terrible manners, and how she’d loved reading the tales of the Swan Princess and the fable of the Ugly Duckling, and how her father had taken to calling her his little duckling after she’d demanded he read her that story at bedtime for three months straight.

“So it just seemed appropriate,” she said with a shrug. “Meaningful, but also it doesn’t give anyone a clue as to who I am.”

“And it suits you,” said Killian. “Swan. Beautiful and fearsome, just like you.”

“I’m not fearsome!” she protested, scowling to cover the blush that heated her cheeks when he called her beautiful.

“Aren’t you?” he asked earnestly. “You terrify me.”

“I do? I don’t wish to.”

“I’m sure it’s unintentional,” he said softly. “And more to do with me being timid.”

“You’re not timid,” she scoffed.

“Much less so than I used to be. And yet—” he took her hand and held it to his chest, just above his pounding heart. “You see?”

Emma gulped and her mouth went dry. His chest was firm and the hair on it rough beneath the fabric of his shirt, his hand covering hers so warm.

“Mine’s the same, though,” she whispered, taking his other hand. With hers still on his chest she could feel his sharp inhale and his heart racing even faster when she laid his palm flat over her own frantic heartbeat.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Their eyes locked, his looking dazed and very dark, the colour high on his cheeks and his breaths audibly harsh.

She licked her lips and his eyes followed the movement, his fingers tightening around hers, his hand on her chest sliding up to curl around her neck. He leaned his head down and she tipped her chin up and their lips were barely a breath apart when a crash and a shriek sounded from the kitchen and they both jumped. Killian squeezed his eyes shut, swearing viciously under his breath as he released her hand and neck and stepped away.

“It sounds like things are winding down here,” he said gruffly. “When glassware starts to shatter, that’s your cue to leave. Bit of advice.”

Disappointment tasted bitter, Emma realised. Bitter and crushing and achy and she hated it. She never wished to feel it again. She nodded in response, unable to speak.

They stood silently for a minute, then Killian sighed. “So, um, may I see you home?” he asked, rubbing at his neck again.

She smiled despite herself. “We’re not at court, Killian.”

“Perhaps not, but I’d still like to walk you back.”

“Yeah.” Her smile came more easily with the next attempt. “I’d like that too.”

He kept his hands in his pockets as they walked the short distance to her dorm, but she was acutely aware of him and how near he was and the faint heat she could still feel from his body. When they reached her building he turned to her and smiled.

“Well, Swan, I hope it won’t be another three years until I see you again,” he said.

“It’s a small campus and I’m here until next summer, so I’d guess probably not.” Not if she had anything to say about it, she thought.

“You’re only staying for a year?” he asked.

“It’s all my parents would permit.”

“Ah. I’ve only this year remaining as well, actually, until I graduate.”

“Graduate? But—in three years?”

He shrugged. “I’ve worked hard.”

It was more than that, Emma knew. He was clever and ambitious and determined to make something of himself. To change the world, just as his brother had predicted. She didn’t know the precise circumstances of the Joneses’ life before they found refuge in Misthaven, but from the few hints Commander—now Captain—Jones had dropped they hadn’t had the easiest of beginnings. That they had already made such a success of themselves was deeply impressive, and Emma suspected they were only just getting started.

“Do you—have far to walk to get home?” she asked, a bit wistfully. It was late and she was tired but she didn’t want Killian to go. She wasn’t ready for their time together to end.

“Just to the other side of campus,” he replied. “I’m here on a military training scholarship so I live with the other cadets. When I graduate I’ll join the navy as a lieutenant.”

“Like your brother.”

“Aye,” he agreed. “Possibly even on his ship.”

“That would be amazing.”

“We think so.”

They were standing close again, in a shadowy recess just to the side of the door, and Emma’s heart was pounding, not again but more like still; it had barely rested since she’d laid eyes on Killian. He was looking at her with a gaze so intense she could swear she felt it caress her lips and gods she wanted him to kiss her. If only she had paid more attention to the gossip among the ladies at court, or even to Ruby’s chatter the past two weeks, then she might have at least some idea of how to make that happen. How exactly did one go about letting a man know one wished to be kissed without actually saying ‘please kiss me’? Maybe she should just say it? Or, as the princess, did she need to kiss him first? What was the protocol here? She was royalty damn it, she couldn’t do anything until she knew the protocol.

Instead she just stared at him, feeling hot and itchy and increasingly desperate until he swallowed hard and drew a deep breath, then stepped back. Again.

“Well. I imagine I’ll see you around, then, Swan.”

Don’t go, Emma’s body screamed, even as her mouth said “I hope so.”

He smiled and gave her a small nod, then headed off down the path away from her building, and from her. She watched him go, simmering with frustration. She should have just grabbed him, she thought, and protocol be damned. Grabbed him and kissed him, because damn it she was not going to be able to sleep tonight for wondering what that would feel like, and wishing she didn’t need to wonder.

With an irritated huff she went to the door, taking her keys from her pocket and sorting through them in search of the correct one. She’d just managed to locate it when a warm hand took her by the elbow and tugged her back into the privacy of the shadows.

“What the—” she exclaimed, and then Killian’s lips were on hers. The keys slipped from her fingers and fell unheeded to the ground as her knees went weak and she grasped at his shoulders for support. He walked her back until she was pressed against the wall, his arm firm around her waist and his fingers tangling in her hair as he kissed her, soft and slow and deep and gods.

Emma whimpered, clinging to him, yearning for things she couldn’t articulate. His hand flexed against her jaw at the sound and just for a moment he pulled her flush against him, insistent yet so gentle, like he wanted to consume her and also never let her go. Then, ever so softly, he broke the kiss.

“Go out with me,” he murmured, leaning his forehead against hers and stroking his thumb across her chin.

“Hmmmm?” Emma struggled to think through the spinning in her head and the frantic thrum of her blood. “Go where?”

He chuckled. “Let me take you out to dinner. Tomorrow.”

“Like—a date?”

“Aye, Swan, very much like a date. An actual date, in fact.”

She blushed at the gentle teasing but the butterflies in her belly were performing an elaborate pas-de-deux and she felt like she could fly along with them. “I’d like that,” she said.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“All right. Um.” He cleared his throat and stood straight, though his hand remained on her cheek. “I’ll come by here to pick you up. About seven?”

She nodded. “I’m in room 3017. You can call me on the intercom from down here.”

“3017,” he repeated. He stepped back with a swagger in his hips this time, and bit his bottom lip in a way that made her want to drag him up to her room now, no date required.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, love,” he said, his voice dripping with promise, and she smiled.

“Tomorrow.”

“And that’s how it happened.” Emma concludes. “More wine, Captain Jones?” She smiles at Liam who’s gaping at her, slack-jawed. Slowly he inclines his head and pushes his wine glass slightly forward on the table. The three of them are sitting in the small dining area of Emma and Killian’s apartments at the palace, sharing dinner as they fill Liam in on the story of their relationship. As Emma refills his wine glass, Liam turns to Killian and punches him squarely in the shoulder.

“Oi!” Killian cries. “What was that for?”

“I can’t believe you just kissed her like that!” Liam exclaims. “What were you thinking?”

Killian shrugs. “I was thinking I wanted to kiss her.”

“You can’t just up and kiss the princess!” Liam sputters.

“That’s what I was trying to tell myself,” says Killian. “I walked away cursing who she was and reminding myself I had to treat her appropriately, and then I thought but why? If she’d been the normal girl she was pretending to be, I’d have kissed her at the party. So I turned back and, well, you heard the rest.”

“I’m glad he did, too,” says Emma. “It saved me the trouble of hunting him down and kissing him myself. Didn’t help me sleep that night though.” She shoots Killian a saucy look which he returns in kind.

“All right all right, bloody hell,” Liam grumbles. “Could you stop doing that, please?”

“Doing what?” asks Emma innocently.

“I’ve no idea what you mean, brother,” says Killian.

Liam groans and lets his head fall into his hands. “Where’s that wine?” he says.

When dinner is over Liam takes his leave, and Emma offers to walk with him as far as the door to the inner courtyard. They stroll slowly through the wide corridors and Liam waits, knowing she must have something she wishes to say.

“I’m glad you finally know about us.” Emma glances up at him with a rather apologetic smile. “Killian’s been wanting to tell you for ages. He couldn’t say anything at first of course, because no one outside my family and our closest advisers knew I was at the university, but since we began living together he’s felt awful keeping it from you.”

“I understand why he did, though,” Liam replies. “And I’m truly sorry he ever felt that he couldn’t confide in me.” They walk in silence for a few minutes. “Do, er—” he clears his throat. “Do your parents know?”

“They do.”

“And… how do they feel about it?”

“They’re delighted,” says Emma gently, and Liam feels the tension in his shoulders recede.

“Truly?”

“Truly. It was a bit tricky at first, but they adore Killian and they’re happy I’ve chosen someone who will be a true partner to me when I take the throne. They know how essential that is.”

They are approaching the doors to the courtyard, but Emma stops just inside them and turns to face him. “Liam,” she says. “May I call you that?”

“Of course.”

“Liam, I just want you to know that Killian—” Her voice breaks and she blinks rapidly, looking faintly embarrassed. “I—I just—I love him so much,” she chokes out as tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. “Oh, gods I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, lass.” Liam withdraws a crisp handkerchief from his uniform pocket and offers it to her.

“Thank you.” She takes the handkerchief and dabs at her eyes. “I’ve never found it easy to talk about my feelings,” she says once she’s calmer, “and the stronger they are the harder it is. But I need you to know that Killian’s heart is safe with me. As I know mine is with him.”

Liam nods, his chest too tight for the words he wishes he could say. He contents himself with a simple “Thank you.”

Emma smiles and gives him his handkerchief back, squeezing his hand as he takes it. “You’re welcome,” she says. “Brother.”

—

@ohmightydevviepuu @thisonesatellite @kmomof4 @stahlop @darkcolinodonorgasm @katie-dub @teamhook @donteattheappleshook @xhookswenchx @snidgetsafan

#cs fic #cs ff #captain swan #captain duckling #modern captain duckling #cs ff au #modern au #modern royalty #meet cute #college au #brothers jones #love blooms #profdanglaisstuff #mariakov81 #happy birthday masha

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jobethdalloway · 4 years

Text

Tidings of Comfort

*filled another prompt by @thepriceisrizzoli!

~*~

For such a small box, it contained so many big dreams.

It was small, humble, and its red color was pleasant in contrast to the snow drifts partially covering the welcome mat Angela had foisted on Jane. The open air hallways were a constant source of complaint for the older tenants in the building during winter, but Jane had thought and Maura agreed that so long as it was well-maintained, it brought a little festive cheer to the place. Slowly she started to back away, knowing that it would be too easy to just stand here forever staring at the gift box and that meant there’d be a good chance Jane could randomly walk out of her apartment at any time and see her there with it. She couldn’t be here when Jane saw it. Waiting to hear about it would be agonizing, but it would be more agonizing to watch as Jane read the card and opened it.

Okay. Nice and easy. Simple. Cute. Not stalkery, right? No. It’s fine. It’ll be fine. Now just back around the corner and

OH SHIT AHHH OH NO AH SHIT

Maura’s attempt to make a quiet escape were thwarted not only because she slipped on some snowy stairs, but because the stream of profanities that zipped through her mind after her pep talk wound up slipping out, quite audibly, as she banged down the stairwell. She managed to stop the downward momentum by grabbing hold of the railing, and it was only after the faint echo of her body banging against the stairs and her resultant yells had died out that she let herself take a breath. On the one hand it didn’t do much for her faith in humanity that no one had come out to see what had happened, but on the other hand, it would’ve been mortifying to be found like this right after—

“Whoa, everyone okay out there? Are we laughing or are we calling first responders?”

Jane’s face popped over the railing, and she looked stunned to see Maura lying there. “It’s okay,” Maura wheezed. “I’m a doctor.”

“Geez! What happened, are you okay?” Jane asked, hurrying down to meet her.

“I’ll be fine,” Maura said, though this was belied by her inability to stand up without assistance. “I’m okay, don’t mind me, I’m just going to take off.”

“Take off? Wait, you just got here—did we have plans I forgot about?”

“No,” Maura said miserably. She hoped it was cold enough to warrant a red face, because a blush would blow her cover. “I was just thinking it’d be nice to see you, since you’ve been off work prepping for your deposition and then giving the deposition, so I was on my way up and, well...” Just enough of the truth to mislead Jane to a false conclusion.

It wasn’t in Maura’s nature to make spontaneous visits, and Jane would’ve pushed her for details if she wasn’t concerned about the fall. “Well, that was very kind of you, and I’m so sorry! Our super is usually on the ball when it comes to snow on these stairwells. I mean the halls are okay, at least. Are you sure you’re all right? Let me help you up, we can get you relaxed on the couch and watch a show or something.”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

“But weren’t you on your way here anyway? Come on, you’re not embarrassed, are you?” Jane chuckled. “I mean, you’ve seen me make three-point landings just trying to successfully navigate a curb on a rainy day. Hell, remember that time I was telling some rookie to shove off and I turned and face-planted over the tape into a crime scene?”

“Oh, gosh, I’d forgotten that. You almost compromised so much evidence.”

“Yeah. So I don’t wanna hear about embarrassment. C’mon, pal, you’re coming with me.”

With surprising strength, Jane took hold of Maura and started guiding her up the stairs. The forcefulness of her movements were coming from a place of wanting to be helpful and keeping Maura safe from the prospect of falling again, but as they neared the top of the stairs, Maura couldn’t help feeling like she was being strong-armed to her doom. Maybe if Jane hadn’t seen the box when she’d come out in the first place, she wouldn’t see it now...

But no such luck.

At the top of the stairs, Jane noticed the small, intricately wrapped gift near her door. “Huh, what’s that?”

“Well! Look at that,” Maura heard herself saying. “It seems to be a present?”

She leaned purposefully towards the door, which Jane nudged open. “It’s got my name on it,” she muttered, picking it up.

“Maybe one of your neighbors left it,” Maura said. “Just—just now, I mean, when you were coming to my rescue. Did you see it when you came out a minute ago?”

“No, but it looks like I might’ve knocked it out of the way when I opened the door,” Jane mused. She glanced up and apologized when she saw Maura leaning weakly against the doorframe. “Hey, sorry, let’s get you inside. And might I suggest more practical boots the next time you go out in the snow?”

“Fair,” Maura sighed. They’d gotten to the couch and Maura hunched over to remove the boots, but groaned in pain half-lean.

Jane had been about to inspect the mystery gift, but dropped it on the coffee table at the sound of Maura’s anguish. Though Maura protested, Jane shushed her and knelt on the floor, untying the boots. Wanting to be as sensitive as possible to Maura’s pain, Jane removed the first boot with utmost tenderness, using her free hand to hold Maura’s stockinged leg steady. As Jane’s hand slid down with the progress of the boot, Maura felt goosebumps erupt that had nothing to do with the cold.

“That better?” Jane murmured, joining her on the couch. “C’mon, let’s see what this is about.” She picked up the small package from the table, and Maura might’ve lunged for it if that wouldn’t have sent her into spasms of pain. “The card is almost as big as the package,” Jane chuckled, unfolding it. She raised her eyebrows at the length of the note, and glanced at the bottom to check the signature. “Huh. That’s weird, it’s not signed.”

The panic churning through Maura’s veins halted, but new anxieties cropped up. She’d forgotten to sign it? How could she have forgotten to sign it? Maybe this was better. Maybe now she could try to plead ignorance. This had been an embarrassing slip of judgment and this had been a stupid idea and oh no was Jane reading the note now? Would it sound like it was from a stalker if it was anonymous?

“You don’t have to read that,” Maura blurted out, and Jane looked at her, surprised. “I mean, um, I mean I think that might be one of Emily Post’s rules. If a card isn’t signed, you aren’t obligated to, um...”

“I’m not obligated, I’m curious,” Jane said.

“Wait,” Maura said, getting an idea. “Jane, you should be careful. An anonymous package left on your doorstep? With a long, creepy letter?”

“What makes you think it’s creepy? It’s not written with like, cut-out magazine letters. You saying I should call up a bomb squad to make sure there’s not a tiny explosive in here?”

Maura's impulse was to say yes because the distraction might help her make a stealthy getaway from this embarrassment, but her conscience wouldn’t allow it. “No, I’d just think you might want to be a little more careful. I mean, what does your gut say about unmarked packages?” Oh, no. This was bad. How could she be trying to scare Jane like this? Was that really worse than the humiliation she might feel at being found out and having her note rebuffed? “I-I’m not trying to frighten you, I just want you to be cautious.”

Jane pursed her lips. “Maura, nothing you do could frighten me.��

“Not even...” She tried and failed to come up with an extreme example.

“No, not even if you suddenly started teasing your hair, quit your job, married Steven Tyler and joined Aerosmith.”

That at least got Maura to laugh. “Steven Tyler? Oh, did your mother make you sit through the Liv Tyler episode of Who Do You Think You Are, too?”

“Yes, and it was very inspiring,” Jane said, returning to the note. “Maybe this is a DNA kit she sent me. Call it a gut feeling, but I don’t think this gift is intended to be a threat. Listen to this note.” She cleared her throat and held out the paper with a flourish: “‘Dear Jane: every time the holiday season comes around, I try to be good about remembering everything I have to be grateful for. You often get lumped in there when I say I am grateful for my friends, but it’s high time I singled you out specifically. I am so thankful for the friendship and solace you provide me. You’re fierce and first to defend me in my moment of trouble or need. Your wit and laughter sustain me and never come at my expense.’” With a rueful laugh, Jane glanced at Maura. “Guess this can’t be from you, huh? I think I’ve been making one too many jokes at your expense lately. I’m sorry about that.”

A lump had risen in Maura’s throat, and she tried to tell Jane it was all right, but couldn’t speak, so she merely shook her head.

Jane continued, her voice a little more reverent now: “‘When we part, there is no sadness because our bond is always there. You’re not just my friend; you’re a gift both precious and rare. In reading over this note, I’ve realized it sounds like a love letter, and I admit that made me pause to wonder if I should attach it at all. I didn’t set out to make it sound that way at first. Then I figured it might be dishonest to continue acting as though these feelings hadn’t been brewing for some time. I apologize for sounding mushy, but I had to make these growing feelings known and hope that the knowledge of their existence isn’t a burden to you in any way. Merry Christmas.’”

She flipped the note over again, as if this time the back of the paper wouldn’t be blank. Maura tried valiantly to temper her wildly beating heart, but to no avail, and so instead focused on keeping her breathing regulated so as not to arouse Jane’s suspicions.

“Wow,” Jane whispered. “Sounds like I’ve got a secret admirer, huh?”

“Not a stalker?”

“No,” Jane chuckled. “A stalker would go more into physical details like, ‘the column of your throat drives me to the brink of insanity,’ or ‘your eyelids look like they would be delicious additions to my favorite beet salad.’”

Despite herself, Maura had to laugh. “Oh, that’s sick. Why do I encourage you?”

“Because you love me. And I love you.” Jane said it with a shrug and a teasing tone of voice, petrifying Maura with her casual confidence. “Face it, pal. You’re stuck with me.”

Maura was torn between wanting to laugh with her, and wanting desperately to confess everything and tell Jane the letter was from her. She was starting to falter under Jane’s gaze, which was soft but searching. Maybe too searching.

Thus, Maura’s response to Jane’s touching sentiment was to ask, “Could I make use of your bathtub?”

“My...”

“I’m still feeling a little sore from my tumble down the stairs, and I think a little hydrotherapy might help.”

This wasn’t a lie, really; Maura was sore, and she often used warm baths as a way to soothe aches and pains. She hoped that by the time she got out of the bath, Jane would’ve had time to move past the anonymous gift and they could converse about something totally different. Or maybe she’d have turned on the TV and forgotten all about it the ludicrous emotional display. Maura didn’t stop to consider how suspicious this abrupt semi-departure made her look. Jane got her a set of pajamas to change into, and Maura started the water.

A few minutes in, the bath was indeed helping to relieve some of Maura’s physical pain, but emotionally she was still in a rather anxious state. This wasn’t helped much when, about ten minutes later, Jane started talking to her from the other side of the door.

“So, why didn’t you sign it?”

Maura almost thought her heart stopped. She didn’t know what to say. Could she pretend she hadn’t heard the question? There was a soft shifting sound, as if Jane was sliding down the wall to sit outside the door.

“How’d you...what makes you think it was me?” Maura finally asked.

“Few things. I know your handwriting, for one. It’s beautiful, precise. It’s so much nicer than mine, and I’ve always admired it. For another thing, I just stepped outside to see if I’d maybe missed another tag or something that fell off. There’s a little bit of snow right on the edge of the hallway, and I saw tracks that look like your boot prints, coming up the opposite side of the stairs as the side I dragged you up after your fall. And, well, you seemed really uncomfortable with this situation instead of wanting to help me solve it, which is what I’d think you’d normally do.”

It was almost tempting to laugh. “I should’ve known better than to think I could get away with fooling a detective.”

“That’s not all, though,” Jane went on. “See, I don’t... I don’t have a lot of friends. Definitely not enough close ones who’d have been able to write such a nice note about me. Too nice, because I do make jokes at your expense too often.”

“You really do,” Maura sighed, and that got a weak laugh out of Jane.

“Well, look, um, this isn’t a joke to me. I promise. I think that was really brave of you, and really sweet.”

Maura didn’t know what to say to that, so she just asked, “Did you open it?”

“Open what?”

“The...gift?”

“Oh!” Jane laughed. “That’s so weird, I didn’t. I didn’t even think about it, because I already got my gift.”

“What do you mean?”

Jane sobered up. “The gift was the note. The gift is holding this note in my hand, as concrete evidence that you feel the same way I do. And—”

“WAIT!”

There was a loud splashing sound now as Maura flailed to get out of the tub. Now that she knew it was safe to have this conversation face-to-face, she needed to be able to see Jane while they had it. She had to be able to see even the most minute changes in her countenance, had to ensure that the promising words Jane was saying were in fact coming out of her own mouth and weren’t some part of an elaborate ruse. It killed her that she had to make her reappearance with slightly damp hair, hastily put up, and old pajamas that didn’t flatter her figure, but she didn’t have the luxury to be precious about her appearance at the moment. Jane never seemed to mind.

She opened the door, and Jane was leaning against the wall, arms folded patiently and a serene smile on her lips in the semi-dark hallway.

“So...are we really gonna do this?” Jane asked. “Are you going to be able to handle me?”

“Handle you? I should think being your best friend was a pretty good primer.”

“I know, but that’s what I mean. I mean, now you’re gonna be hearing things from me a lot more often. My filter’s gonna disappear.”

Her demeanor put Maura at ease, allowing her to tease back, “Was it ever there?”

Jane took a step away from the wall and Maura’s breath caught in her throat. “I mean the filter that’s always kept me from telling you things like how beautiful you look. I know that it’s not like I’ve never told you that before. But I’d second-guess myself a lot so you wouldn’t think I was more into you than I should be. Like, I knew I couldn’t lay it on too thick or compliment too many individual things at once. Which I’d do right now, but I just established that cataloguing beautiful things about a person piece-by-piece can sound serial killery, so...”

Maura had been trying to keep her own smile in check, but couldn’t contain it when the joke made her laugh. She stepped forward as well, bringing them almost toe-to-toe, and reached out. Jane took hold of her arms, gripping them for support.

“You’re trembling,” Maura observed.

“Yeah. Yeah, and I can’t believe you’re not, what’s the deal?” Jane asked with a shaky laugh. “Sorry, I just got kinda overwhelmed just now. I’ve seen you in pajamas, even my pajamas before, I’ve seen you fresh out of a bath or shower before, and thought nothing of it or tried to think nothing of it. Now it’s like this veil has been lifted. I don’t want to come on too strong all of a sudden.” She pulled Maura into a hug. “And I’m going to do my best to live up to that beautiful card. I want to make you as happy as you’ve made me. You make me so happy, Maura, you make my heart so happy.”

All Maura could think to do besides whisper “me too, me too” was hug Jane back as hard as she could. They lapsed into a short silence as they stood, embracing each other in the hallway. Strangely, the urge to do anything more didn’t strike either of them right away; it was already too overwhelming just having gotten to these initial declarations, like going from zero to a hundred and twenty in nothing flat. Maura in particular needed a minute to process, and Jane seemed to intuit this:

“Sorry if that was a weird conversation to start while you were in the bathroom,” she said, and Maura laughed again. “I just thought, I dunno, you seemed skittish and maybe the better thing would’ve been to ignore it altogether but then I thought maybe you only got that nervous because you worried your feelings weren’t returned and I wanted to reassure you. Either way, I hoped keeping the conversation semi-private would maybe be helpful for you. It was just killing me sitting out here alone and thinking about it.”

“Thank you for being brave enough to bring it up when I just wanted to run away,” Maura said. “Although part of me also wonders if you didn’t just want to show off the fact that you’d figured out it was from me.”

It seemed the charitable thing to avoid bringing up (again) that it hadn’t been hard to solve, so Jane pivoted and replied, “Well, there is still one thing I’m hung up on.” She shifted out of the hug, pulling Maura’s gift box from her back pocket and opening it. “Why’s it empty? Is it like a metaphor?” In a cheesy deeper voice, she added, “A metaphor for how empty your life was before you met me?”

Maura’s mouth fell open and she smacked her forehead. “I’ve really outdone myself tonight. I forgot to sign the card and I forgot to actually put the gift in the box! Oh, my gosh. I was really, really nervous. Please pardon the hyperbole, but my mind must’ve been miles away.”

“Didn’t it feel light to you?” Jane chuckled, giving the box a shake before returning it to her back pocket.

“I mean, it didn’t weigh much, it’s just a—”

“Ah, ah,” Jane cut her off. “Don’t spoil the surprise! You can still give it to me later. Although I’m sorry to disappoint you, whatever it is, it’s not gonna be even a close second to the gift of learning that you’ve been pining for me since day one.”

“It was not day one,” Maura scoffed, rolling her eyes affectionately. “I should cut the suspense now and just go get it.”

“Okay, so how about this,” Jane mused. “As amazing as I think you look in PJ’s, I assume you wouldn’t like to go out in them—I mean, further out than your car. Why don’t you go home and change, I’ll get cleaned up, and you can come back here with your amazing gift and we’ll go out to celebrate, um... whatever it is we’re doing here.”

“I think you look gorgeous as is,” Maura said, tugging the hem of Jane’s sweater, “but otherwise, I really like the sound of that plan.”

Jane opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out of it when she felt Maura’s hand graze her backside. A shaky breath escaped her when Maura tightened her grip, and then Jane realized she was just taking her time extracting the gift box from Jane’s pocket. Seeing the response this small action elicited was incredibly exciting, and Maura was reminded of one of the only things she could remember her mother saying about love: that it was like friendship set ablaze.

“A sensitive spot for you, hm?” she murmured. “Good to know.”

Jane almost tripped trying to follow Maura to the door. “I look forward to finding out yours.”

“Somehow, that’s another mystery I don’t think you’ll have much trouble solving,” Maura said.

Maybe Jane was the one who would benefit from a minute to process. Their everyday banter had just shot forward into something immediately more flirty than usual, but it didn’t feel weird. What actually caught her off guard was how natural it seemed. This all still felt surreal to her as she watched Maura gingerly put her boots back on, and reach for her coat. She was consumed by warmth, even as Maura opened the door and let the wintry air in.

“You be careful on those steps now,” Jane said, leaning against the doorframe. “Use the railings, grandma. Wouldn’t do for you to take another tumble.”

“No, I daresay it wouldn’t.”

Maura’s heartbeat ratcheted back up again when Jane leaned towards her. She left a soft kiss on one cheek, then the other, and then a quick peck to the forehead.

“Just so you’re prepared,” Jane said, pulling back and glorying in Maura’s smile. “There’s gonna be mistletoe hanging over this door when you get back.”

Speeding in winter wasn’t safe, Maura knew, but what the hell. She was already feeling reckless tonight.

#rizzles #jane rizzoli #maura isles #rizzoli and isles #rizzles fanfic #oneshot #ficlet

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