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unfolded73 · 7 years

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What Comes Next (5/8)

Summary: They lived happily ever after. And then what happened? (A Post-S6 story.) Starts about a week after the final battle, and explores the highs and lows of newly married life between Emma and Killian as they deal with work, friends, and family as life in Storybrooke settles down somewhat.

Captain Swan, Explicit (this update particularly so), ~4600 words this chapter

Thanks to @j-philly-b for the beta.

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4

Emma stirred sugar into her coffee mug as she stared out the kitchen window. For the first time possibly ever (not counting those early days of their relationship when she’d set her alarm extra early to try to sneak out of Killian’s room at Granny’s without half the town seeing her), Emma had woken up before her husband. She could hear the shower running upstairs, while here she was already dressed and ready for work. Up was down, black was white, and Emma Swan was ready for work early. Something had woken her up at five in the morning and she’d just lain there, awake, until finally giving in and getting out of bed.

Sighing, she turned around to see yesterday’s mail neatly stacked on the kitchen table where Killian left it for her the day before. Walking over, she idly flipped through the pile. There was a water bill, a notice that she was pre-approved for a credit card, a postcard coupon for 20% off at the Three Bears Day Spa, a Hammacher Schlemmer catalog (and she wondered what kind of dark magic they’d used to track her to Storybrooke), and a letter from the Dr. Naito’s office. She pulled that one out, setting down her coffee to open the envelope. Her eyes scanned the brief letter, and she mentally added ‘call the doctor’ to her increasingly long list of things to do.

By the time Killian came downstairs, she was on her second cup of coffee and had managed to make some toast.

“I hardly knew what to do this morning, you waking before me,” he said with a kiss on her cheek. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah, I just woke up at five and my body decided it was done sleeping.”

Killian poured coffee into his favorite mug. “You should have woken me,” he said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“I wasn’t really in the mood for that, or I would have.”

He sat down beside her at the table. The letter from her doctor was lying in front of him, and his eyes skimmed over the text. “What’s a pelvic exam?” he asked her.

Emma snorted. “Surely you can guess.” He just looked at her expectantly. “Dr. Naito’s my gynecologist, which means she’s a doctor for my lady parts.”

“I’m glad to hear Dr. Whale doesn’t take care of that,” he said.

“Yeah, tell me about it. She delivered Ashley’s daughter, so I met her not long after I moved here. Anyway, a pelvic exam is an annual checkup that women get.”

“What sort of checkup?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “I promise it’s not sexy to describe.”

“I wasn’t implying that it was, love, I’m just curious.” He got up and went over to the refrigerator, pulling out a carton of eggs and setting it down next to the stovetop.

“Okay, well, you get undressed and have to wear a stupid paper gown. Then you put your feet up in these metal stirrups so that the doctor can get a good look at your vagina.”

“I don’t have one of those,” Killian commented, smirking, as he cracked eggs into a bowl.

“And that’s why you don’t need a gynecologist, babe,” Emma mumbled around a mouthful of toast. “So there’s a few things she’ll do, but the main thing is a Pap smear.”

“What’s that?”

Emma made a face. “I suck at trying to explain stuff like this. It’s where they take a sample of cells from your cervix and test them for, like, cancer.”

“Cancer?”

“Yeah, cancer is—”

“I know what cancer is, Swan, I’m just worried at the idea that you might have it.” He abandoned the eggs he’d been whisking and approached her at the table.

“There’s no reason to think I have it, Killian, it’s just a test they do on all women. It’s routine. She’ll also check my IUD, although I should have at least another year on it—”

“Do you want me to accompany you to this appointment?” he asked, his eyes still filled with concern. Perhaps it was his life in the Enchanted Forest that was coloring his reaction. Probably in his experience, by the time a doctor was summoned, things were already terribly wrong.

“Killian, I need you to chill out.” She put her hand over his. “There is really nothing for you to worry about. I’ve had plenty of these tests before, and they always come back negative. Which is good, negative is good. It means there’s nothing wrong.”

He seemed to visibly relax a bit. “If you say so. I’d still happily go with you, if you want moral support.”

“I really don’t.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s not that big a deal for me, I promise. You being there would be weird.”

“It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before, love.” He returned to his scrambled egg preparation.

“Yeah, but there’s sexy contexts for my vagina and unsexy ones, and I really don’t want to mix the two.”

He looked at her for a long moment. “All right, if you’re certain.”

In spite of his acceptance of this aspect of modern life for a woman of reproductive age, as they went about their usual work that day, Killian seemed clingy. It was as if, after all the threats to her life that he had witnessed, it was just now occurring to him that he could lose her to something much more pedestrian. Throughout the day, every time they were in the same room was an opportunity for him to press his hand supportively against her back or squeeze her hand or shoot her one of his lovestruck expressions.

To be honest, it was a little bit annoying.

She loved Killian’s affectionate personality, she really did. After she spent her childhood starved for human touch, she usually revelled in how frequently he touched her, and how obvious it was that he loved her. Today though, although she would never tell him so, she was feeling smothered by it. She encouraged Killian to take off early so that at least one of them could be home when Henry got home, her ulterior motive being that she really needed some time alone.

In the quiet station, Emma took a box of push-pins out of her desk and stood at the map of Storybrooke, putting a pin into each of the locations where the recent rash of break-ins had occurred. Granny’s, Moe’s flower shop, and Jefferson’s shop were all relatively near the middle of downtown, while Ashley’s daycare was further away. She supposed that the increased vigilance of the store owners in town, coupled with Killian’s patrols, might have driven the thieves to search further afield for a target. There probably wasn’t anything to the pattern, as it was mostly driven by opportunity.

She pulled up the reports for each of the robberies, looking at the dates. They were spaced roughly seven to ten days apart, which meant they were due for another break-in soon. She really wanted to catch these people, whoever they were.

Emma had been checking around with the other Storybrooke businesses to see if anyone had made any unusual purchases with a large chunk of cash, but so far, nothing. And while it was now possible for anyone to leave Storybrooke any time they wanted, for the most part, people didn’t. The former residents of the Enchanted Forest were uncomfortable out in the land without magic, or they were still afraid that crossing the town line would have some horrible effect on them, and almost everyone behaved as if that barrier still existed. So while it was possible that the thief or thieves were spending their spoils out of town, she somehow doubted it. More likely, they were stashing the cash in a sock drawer or under a mattress, waiting for something. If she could just get a suspect, a search might be their downfall.

The main phone line for the sheriff’s station rang, making her jump. Emma picked up the receiver, and was immediately treated to the sound of a sneeze right in her ear.

“Sheriff Swan,” she said.

“Hi, Emma, it’s Sneezy.”

“I figured. What can I do for you?”

“Listen, maybe it’s nothing, but Grumpy said I should call you. When I looked out the window of the pharmacy a little while ago, I thought I saw someone looking over here from behind a tree across the street.” He paused to sneeze again. “I didn’t get a good look; I mean it was just for a second, and—” Another sneeze interrupted his tale.

“Are they still over there?” she asked, looking around for her car keys.

“No, not anymore. Like I said, maybe it was nothing, but given all the robberies…”

“Yeah. You were right to call me. What did the person look like?” Emma sat down on the edge of her desk, looking at the map again and picturing a pin in the spot where the pharmacy was.

“I didn’t get a good look.”

“Man? Woman? Short? Tall? Young? Old?”

“Man, I think. Average height. Other than that, I don’t know. I really didn’t see his face.”

She sighed. “Okay. What time do you close?”

“Six o’clock.” Emma rolled her eyes; she didn’t miss much about Boston, but she did miss stores that managed to stay open past dark.

“Okay, lock up tight and don’t leave any cash unsecured anywhere,” she told him. “Killian or I will try to keep an eye on the place tonight, in case they come back and try to break in.”

He sneezed three times in rapid succession. “Will do, Sheriff.”

Emma started to call Killian, and then stopped and looked at the time on her phone. It was almost six now, although she assumed nothing would happen before dark. She was suddenly transported back to her bail bondsperson days, when she used to sit on a stakeout in her car with nothing but a tattered sudoku book and a box of those protein bars that were really just glorified candy bars. It was often cold and always boring, but she was perversely nostalgic for it all of a sudden: a time when she could sit in her car all night and eat junk food and no one would care. No one would wonder where she was, because there was no one in her life to wonder.

She loved having people who worried about her and missed her and wanted to be at her side. It was all she had ever dreamed of as a kid. But in that moment, she felt a strange pang of longing for a time when the only person she had to answer to was herself.

Emma started to plan. If she was going to stake out the drug store, she needed a less conspicuous car than the department’s one squad car or her yellow Bug, which everyone in town knew on sight. She thought about cars she could borrow. Regina’s Mercedes and her dad’s truck were as well-known in town as her own car. Zelena’s green monstrosity would stick out like a sore thumb. She needed a boring car, the kind of car that your eyes just slid over without even seeing.

Mom’s station wagon, she thought. Perfect.

She dashed off a text to Killian: I’ve maybe got a lead on the robberies. Don’t wait up.

Not three seconds passed before he was calling her.

“I’ll join you,” Killian said by way of a greeting. “What’s the lead?”

She felt immediately churlish. “You’ve been working a lot of long hours lately; I’ve got this.”

“Don’t be silly, Swan, I’m perfectly well rested. If you think there’s a way to catch the thieves tonight, I’d like to be there to help.”

He had a point, and she knew it. There could be more than one of them, and it would help to have Killian to take them down. And yet, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from arguing. “I don’t want to pull rank on you, but I will if I have to. We can’t expect to run the sheriff’s station effectively if we’re both pulling all-nighters at the same time.”

There was a long pause. “Sounds like you’ve made up your mind.”

“I have.”

“Fine. At least promise to call me if you need help,” he said, anger evident in his voice.

“I will.”

He disconnected the call without saying goodbye. Whether that was an indication of his level of frustration or his lack of phone etiquette, she wasn’t sure.

I love you, she texted to him.

He didn’t respond, but Killian wasn’t really a texter, so that wasn’t unusual. Gathering up her belongings, Emma locked up the station, phoning her mother to warn her that she was on her way to borrow her car as she mentally made a list of the terrible junk food she wanted to buy in preparation for her stake out.

~*~

By 10:30 p.m., Emma had finished off the coffee she’d picked up from Granny’s to stay awake.

By midnight, she’d eaten two protein bars and an entire package of Sour Patch Kids, and felt a little sick to her stomach.

At 1:15 a.m., after too many games of Words with Friends with Zelena, her phone battery died. She reached for her charger, groaning when she belatedly realized she’d left it in her Bug when she switched cars with her mother. Frustrated, she threw the phone onto the passenger seat. What she wouldn’t give for a sudoku book right about now, she thought.

At 2:00 a.m., after whisper-singing to herself every pop song she could think of, she started to nod off for the first time.

At about 2:45 a.m., she started to really miss her husband.

The first indication that dawn was on its way reached her eyes sometime after 4:00. Either she’d been wrong that someone was casing the pharmacy, or she’d been wrong that they planned to hit it tonight, or they’d spotted her and gotten scared off. Regardless, her sleepless night had been a huge waste of time. Cranking the engine of Snow’s sensible station wagon, Emma headed for home, figuring she could get a couple of hours of sleep before work.

The house was dim and silent when she let herself in, and she kicked off her shoes, already thinking about how nice and warm Killian would feel when she curled up against him under the covers.

Tiptoeing into the bedroom and closing the door softly, Emma was headed for the bathroom to brush her teeth when Killian turned on his lamp. She jumped.

“I thought you were asleep,” she said, her hand over her chest.

He sat up in bed. “I was, but after I awoke a couple of hours ago and tried phoning you and you didn’t respond, I was too worried to sleep.” The muscle in his jaw spasmed, and Emma knew that he was angry.

“My phone died and I forgot my charger. I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“That was when I realized that you hadn’t even bothered to tell me where you would be. So I’ve been lying here, wondering if I should try walking all over town to try to find you, or if I should call your father and ask him to drive me around looking for you. Or maybe I could go up to the top of the clock tower and spot you that way. And I tried to weigh your frustration with me for doing any of those things against the odds that you were lying injured somewhere. Or dead.” His voice got louder and louder as he spoke, until he was almost shouting at her by the end, his tirade slightly undercut by his mussed bedhead.

Emma swallowed around a lump in her throat. “You’re right. I was thoughtless.”

“Yes, you were.”

She sat down at his side, wondering if she should take his hand. “Can you forgive me?”

He huffed. “Emma, I love you more than anything in my life, of course I can forgive you, but I need to know why you shut me out today.”

She winced. “I just… I still sometimes get itchy, depending on people. And having people depend on me. Maybe I’ll never be completely comfortable with it, I don’t know.” Now she did reach for his hand, and was relieved when he squeezed her fingers gently.

“I watched you die, Emma,” he said, his voice raspy. She looked up from their joined hands into his eyes. “I stood in the street and watched you, my wife who I’d barely managed to have five minutes with after we exchanged vows, throw your sword aside and get impaled.”

“Hey, at least you didn’t have to do the impaling yourself like I did,” she said, trying to make a joke out of the worst moment of her life. Killian didn’t smile.

“You’ve been a beacon of light in my life, leading me out of the darkness. Two hundred years of selfishness and revenge and murder, and loving you pulled me out of that. And I can’t help but think…” He took a shaky breath and looked down at their joined hands again, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “I had a lot of time to ponder this, while that prophecy was hanging over your head. And it’s not just that losing you would be the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s that I don’t think I can keep myself from becoming that man again if I lose you.”

Emma’s heart broke for him. “I think you’re wrong. I think you can. For Henry. For Mom and Dad and for everyone in this town who counts on you and looks to you as a hero. Maybe it was me who started you on the right path at first, but I don’t think it’s me that keeps you on it.” She laughed. “For one thing, I’m not that saintly a person myself.” She scooted a little bit closer to him on the bed. “You still think of yourself as a bad man who changed. But I feel like I know you pretty well by now, and let me tell you, you’re not that. You’re a good man who spent a long time lost, and now you’ve rediscovered who you really are.”

He pursed his lips with a hint of a smile. “Perhaps.”

“We’ve both faced losing the other, and we didn’t deal with it very well.” She blew out a breath. “Me especially. But unless we get super lucky, and live to be a hundred — or in your case, four hundred or whatever,” she said with a laugh, “and die together in our sleep, someday one of us is gonna have to face life without the other.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know how. And I’m sorry; I annoyed you today because I was struggling with letting you do things on your own, and I know how independent you are—”

“I could’ve been a lot more sensitive to your fears,” she admitted, leaning over and pulling him into a hug. There was a pause, and then she felt his hand pressing hard against her back, the solid strength of his arms holding her tight.

“I thought I was over it,” he said against her shoulder. “You lived, and everything turned out fine, and almost before I could take a breath we were celebrating our slightly delayed wedding night, and I thought I was over it. But this morning, imagining you falling ill, and then when I couldn’t reach you on your phone…”

“I’m sorry.” She brushed a kiss against his cheek. “I’m really sorry.” Letting out a little hiccupping sigh, an almost-sob, Emma continued to kiss his face. “I’m not over it either,” she whispered.

He kissed her lips then, hard and forceful, a little bit sloppy in his haste. Emma crawled into his lap, their mouths meeting over and over with increasing desperation. “I love you so much,” he gasped as she writhed against him, quite suddenly so aroused that she felt like she was going to jump out of her skin if he didn’t touch her.

“I love you, too.” She spoke the words into his bare shoulder, her teeth scraping his skin. She felt the need to apologize again for making him worry, but she’d apologized enough and he’d accepted, and there was nothing else she could say now. All she could do was let their bodies take over and hope that the pleasure they could make between them would give them both a measure of comfort.

Killian moved his hand around to start unbuttoning her blouse but he was trembling, struggling to work the tiny buttons. Emma stood up from the bed, pulling her clothes off and tossing them aside quickly as Killian did the same with his pajamas. She was back on top of him in an instant, pressing as much of her skin against his as she could, bracketing his hips with her knees, her breasts crushed against his chest and his arms circling her. It felt so good to feel his body against her, warm skin and coarse hair, his calloused fingertips running down her back.

“Tell me what to do,” she said softly, combing her fingers through his hair. “What can I do to make you feel good?”

Usually he was the one asking those kinds of questions, catering to her every desire as if everything he did to her in bed wasn’t fantastic. But tonight it felt hugely important to her that she do for him.

Killian pressed his forehead against hers. “I just need you, Emma.”

Emma reached down between them, closing her fingers around his erection and stroking slowly, making him whimper. “You’re always so good to me. Let me be good to you.”

“You are, gods, so good.” His hips rose underneath her, chasing the movement of her hand.

Suddenly there was nothing she wanted more than to see him come apart like this while they held each other. Emma leaned to one side and made a grab for her bedside table drawer. Killian braced her thigh with the stump of his left wrist so that she wouldn’t fall off of the bed, and she pulled a bottle of lube out of the drawer. He watched her with hooded eyes as she squeezed a small amount of the lubricant into her palm.

When she returned to stroking him, making everything slick as she worked her hand up and down, Killian groaned, his hips matching the rhythm of her strokes. She wrapped her other arm around his back, squeezed him with her thighs, holding him close with every part of her that she could. She felt her inner muscles clenching at the sight of her husband coming undone, wanted to take him inside her and fuck him so badly, but she resisted the temptation. She needed to focus solely on his pleasure for now.

“I wanna see you come, Killian,” she said, increasing the pace of her fist, twisting it over the head of his cock with every upstroke. His eyes clamped shut, a grimace of pleasure-pain on his face. His hand went into her hair, fingers closing in the strands and pulling just enough to make her scalp tingle with the edge of pain.

“You’re mine, my love, my husband, a good man, you’re a good man.” she mumbled, hardly aware if anything she was saying was making sense, because he felt like he was close, he was so very hard in her hand and she was increasingly desperate for it, to feel that hardness slide into her body would feel so fucking amazing, but she kept stroking and he was fucking her fist, his moans increasingly out of his control.

His voice was a hoarse shout when he came, and she watched as the pearly white fluid hit her stomach, dripping down as she coaxed him through it, only letting go when she felt the spasms under her hand stop and his muscles start to relax.

Killian glanced at her from under his eyelashes, his heavy panting breath hot against her skin. He smiled shyly, before looking down at her abdomen again.

“I’ve made a mess of you,” he said, the gravel in his voice turning her on even more.

Emma rolled off of him, collapsing on her back, not cleaning herself up right away so he could look his fill. “Do you like it?” She ran a finger down between her breasts and into the wet evidence of his climax on her stomach. “Seeing me like this?”

Killian slid down and turned on his side, not taking his eyes off of her. “Aye.”

She grinned. “Keep watching.” Her hand continued its path down her body, plunging between her folds and further, two fingers slipping inside and fuck, watching him get off had made her so wet and sensitive. She pressed her palm against her clit and started a rhythm with her hand and her hips. The wet sound of her fingers pumping in and out of her reached her ears.

“You’re a vision like this, marked with my seed and desperate for more,” he said, propping himself up on his elbow. He reached out with his hand, gripping her upper thigh and pulling her legs further apart but otherwise not interfering with what she was doing.

Emma gasped out a strangled noise, shameless in the way she was moving and fucking herself and reaching for her orgasm, which she was barreling toward faster than she would’ve believed, given how incredibly intimate all of this was. Killian watching her touch herself should have been inhibiting, but it wasn’t. She wanted him to see how much she loved him and wanted him, and how just watching him had made her feel so good even when no one was touching her.

She cried out wordlessly, felt her muscles convulse in deep pulses against her fingers as she rode out her climax, her thighs drawing closer together and squeezing her hand in between. At some point she’d closed her eyes, and she felt Killian lift her hand and draw it up to his mouth, his tongue licking the wetness from her fingers. Then he pulled her limp body into his arms, hugging her close.

“Now we’re both a mess,” she said, almost giggling as their abdomens pressed together.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Killian said. He nuzzled against her cheek. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

Emma snorted, thinking to herself that she doubted it, given the few racy stories she’d managed to wrangle out of him about Milah, and about some of the debauchery he’d witnessed in brothels over his years as a pirate.

“I can prove it to you, love.” He kissed her chin, rutting his hips against her, and she could tell that he was already half-hard again. “Let’s go rinse off in the shower, and then I’ll fuck you until you can’t move.”

“It’s a deal,” she said, grinning. Killian started to get up, but she stopped him with a hand on his bicep. “Hey. I love you. And I love being with you, even if I sometimes don’t show it.”

He brushed his lips over hers in a soft caress. “Anytime you need to be alone for a little bit, just say the word. I’ll understand.”

“And then afterwards—”

“We come back together like this.” He hauled her leg up over his hip, grinding against her center.

Emma gasped. “Yeah, that works for me.”

CHAPTER 6

#cs ff #captain swan ff #cs smut #cs angst #what comes next fic #my fic

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