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ochrearia · 8 months ago

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Emptiness of Dreams

Dear god okay there's like a billion bitches in here. No one talks and it's YS POV but there's. A billion

I don't know how to explain this any clearer. Read between the lines. This will make sense for the people that need to I promise. Just things I want to say but can't say directly.

BFs in this one-shot: PoPr!BF (Biff, mine), cs!BF (Beefer, mine), wyd!BF (Beef, Karl's), fc!BF (Boyf, Gold's), Cyborg!BF (Cyber, Gold's), sfa!BF (Peacock, Shed's), S2!BF (Bee, Isaac's), ourple!BF (Brooke, Isaac/VS Ourple Guy), idu!BF (BJ, Storm's), mixtape!BF (Bash, Kry's), fightin!BF (Mic, Lunar's), lca!BF (Bunny, Damien's), Yourself (YS)

Blue, Bastion, Baker, and Blake are mentioned but not physically present

He knew he had a problem. Well, that was quite the understatement really. He had a lot of problems. So many to the point where YS really couldn’t understand why any of them were still here. Broken people attracted more broken people, sure. Fine. But even other broken people still had enough logic to understand when someone was too broken, right? When there were things beyond anyone’s help. Tiring aspects that were just too much to keep thinking about. It was easy for others to stop thinking about it when it wasn’t them experiencing it. YS couldn’t stop thinking. Probably never would. Every time something slipped a little bit under the surface of the water he drowned so fast. And it was so shameful that everyone got to witness it. Felt inclined to help when really, at this point, maybe it was just better to let him drown proper.

The space in between dreams was usually empty. The more people tumbling into the space meant more things would pop up, stemming from the day’s thoughts and wishes. It was always nothing but empty whenever YS was here on his own. Nothing but cold fog. Nothing friendly, nothing warm, nothing all that safe. What did that say about his thoughts and wishes, huh?

But the usual emptiness of dreams wasn’t here this time. Not that this wasn’t meant to happen, it just hadn’t happened when YS was around. Mainly because he never really slept at the same time as anyone else aside from… an exception. He’d been going on for a few days without any real, proper sleep, and while he was an Angel, a supernatural being, there was still only so much he could take before his body completely crashed on him. Which was what happened here and now, a lucky outcome that it happened to be at a time where he should’ve been asleep anyway.

So many of his brothers were here. Half of them he suspected didn’t even realize where they were. And with so many selves came a blooming of the space in between dreams. Things, thoughts, safeties and wishes. Taking form as soft wisps of smoke, alien-like grass and flowers, lavender light coming from no visible source at all. The space here never had to make any sense to begin with. It was all just dreams, mashed together in a magic link across realities that wasn’t really supposed to exist. But it did. Might as well make something out of it.

Biff, of course. Biff was almost always here when YS was, and probably the most aware of what this place even was. Not like anyone truly knew its rules. But the longer you visit, the more you get in-tune with how some things work. YS knew some of his brothers had felt him arrive here and changed their paths entirely to cross with his. The others most likely didn’t know what was really happening and were just automatically drawn to a sense of familiarity. All leading back to him. What a nice thought.

Beef and Biff were wordlessly fighting with each other for who got the space in his arms. Idiots. No damn concept of sharing. If they wanted hugs all they ever had to do was ask. They would wake themselves up with this ridiculous tussle if they weren’t careful, but YS could see the playfulness of it in each of their faces. Silent brotherly fighting. Little bastards who cared a lot about each other but refused to admit it.

Boyf and Cyber were here too. Boyf had a secured spot on his left while Cyber lay sprawled rather unceremoniously across his legs. Something akin to the indignancy pile that YS had endured back when his reach only yielded him five brothers. Now, it was so much more. He wasn’t sure if Cyber really knew where he was, but it didn’t seem to matter. There were quiet purrs coming from him anyway. If YS was there, then nothing else mattered. A bit of a terrifying thought for YS- god, when would his brain just pick one? A constant tug-of-war between reveling in the fact he was that much of a safety to someone, and fearing being so damn important.

YS wasn’t really sure where he stood with a lot of his brothers. Which was so… stupid, wasn’t it? Why didn’t he know? They all had expressed some form of deep care for him thus far, from directly saying it to just small but meaningful actions. Choosing to let him stick around in their lives. A stray passing thought. Not looking at him like he was some sort of disgusting freak. Maybe that last one was the bare minimum but it didn’t matter to him. That was still the world in his eyes after everything.

Bash was behind him, asleep. Balancing him while they leaned back to back against each other. Now, YS loved all his brothers. That was true and it would stay true. And it was painfully obvious that he trusted some of them with different things. Was that shitty of him? Maybe. Certainly felt that way to him when he wanted everyone to feel equally important. But there were so many of them now. That wish might be an impossible task now. But maybe YS would burn himself out still trying to reach it. He never wanted to leave anyone on a metaphorical level of less importance somehow.

To his brothers, he felt love and that was clear. And he should stop worrying so much about the differences in each relationship. They were all the same person but they weren’t carbon copies of each other. It would be stupid to try to condense them all down to that. And where other brothers filled holes he desperately needed fixed, Bash sort of… balanced him. He shared similarities with many of them. There was something about his one older brother that was special. YS just wasn’t sure how to convey that. Or really… fairly approach Bash like he deserved for that matter. But for now in between dreams the connection helped dampen his worries. He hoped he could believe he mattered the way he was told he does soon with him.

Peacock was on YS’s right. He was dozing too, but even in that state YS could feel an insistence to stay as close as possible. Two angels taking comfort in each other. It was funny, being a Guardian Angel and having another angel seemingly be guarding him. Beefer was somewhere nearby too. In his dinosaur form, for some reason, but maybe it was because he had no idea what this place was. Walking around. Guarding. Not just him, but everyone here. Even Boyf, despite them never getting along. Truce in the dream space. BJ kept an eye on the dinosaur lumbering around in circles. He seemed very curious about the other versions that obviously weren’t human. That, and well, it didn’t seem like any of them had seen a living dinosaur before who’s also an alien at the same time. Despite the curiosity BJ kept close to YS as much as he could, when everyone else was already crowding him.

Bee and Brooke were here as well. Lying content in the alien-like grass of the dream plains they were all sitting in together. Brooke didn’t seem very content though. Worried, hesitant. YS hadn’t gotten to talk to him a lot, and the first encounter had gone just about as wrong as it possibly could. YS didn’t think Brooke liked him at all. He’d probably prefer to be somewhere else, and that was fair. He was going through a lot as far as the angel could tell. But despite the dislike he was sticking around. Not for his peace of mind, obviously. Probably just because Bash, Bee, and Beef were clearly happy to stay here. It was enough to let Brooke take a hesitant chance.

Mic and Bunny were very new to YS, but they had made it here too. Playing chase for the sake of playing. Joy in a space they didn’t know, but it was okay, nothing could really hurt them here except their own fears. But it was clear no one truly feared where they were. It was funny, Mic was very much a little brother to YS despite him being five years older than him. Somehow.

Yeah, no. Bash was the only one who was getting away with any semblance of taking care of YS in an older-brother kind of way. And even then YS felt some sort of guilt he was letting anyone be responsible for him.

It was weird. All of them kind of took care of him in their own ways. Just something unique and different about each one. Balance with Bash. Loyalty with Beef. Understanding with Biff. Warmth with Peacock. The list could go on, really. Though in the end they all seemingly wanted him here. Here, amongst people. Wasn’t that weird? Why did they want him here, anyway? YS still couldn’t find an understanding of that. ‘Because they wanted to’? Why? Why choose that with no real benefit?

People were so confusing.

Most of them managed to end up here tonight. That’s never really happened before. YS wondered what was different about this night. Wondered if the ones missing were awake, or just in their own dreams instead of the space in between. Blake, Blue, Baker. Good lord, if Baker was awake he swore to god he better not be creating a kitchen disaster right now. YS wondered how long it would take to get properly through to Bastion as well. Everyone, always on his mind. So many to keep track of, sometimes it made his head spin. But he’d still find room to fit in more. He had a feeling he was going to meet more brothers in the near future anyway.

People, here. With him. For him, some of them might try to say. That couldn’t be true. People shouldn’t be here for him, not when everyone else was around. Felt weird to think he was some sort of priority. But he supposed he was a massive hypocrite too. Prioritizing everyone else as much as he could, trying his hardest to treat everyone equally, make them feel special because they were. But then flinched away if anyone tried to mirror his actions.

How dumb. YS wanted someone to do for him everything he did for others, but couldn’t even be thankful to accept that if someone tried. Nothing was ever good enough, huh? Ridiculous…

Beefer turned suddenly, red eyes boring directly into the angel. Knowing. Right… emotional walls didn’t work on that one. He could tell right away. He’d made a promise to try and think like that less. He was trying. It was just harder on some days than others.

People… here. Could he indulge in saying for him? Did he deserve that, though? Unsure on that part. Whether he said it or not wouldn’t change if it was true or not. A concept there, to sit in the back of his mind, surrounded by all these people. Did he have to keep himself so lonely? YS was so afraid to somehow hurt anyone here, everyone. But would keeping himself lonely make them happy? That might just hurt them too.

He knew one of them was terrified of him leaving. Just from one old conversation. That never really left his head. But there was still a little guilt there, making him even worry so clearly about that. YS was doing his best to keep to his word- that he wouldn’t leave. Even though things kept sliding downhill so fast some days.

Maybe none of them wanted him to leave. It’s not like he wanted to leave either. Sometimes his mind was cruel, though. It was hard to tell properly if anyone cared enough for him to stay some days. Like all the progress went back to zero. Wasn’t that so exhausting? To deal with someone who needed reassurance so often?

YS wouldn’t leave. For as long as they wanted him at all, he would stay.

He had a lot of problems. Maybe he himself was a problem and it might be time to admit that. Needing so much direct reassurance almost every day. That was a problem. And he should try harder to stop doing that because he clearly wasn’t trying hard enough. He would change completely for them, because he loved them.

Maybe that was another problem.

He was just a problem, wasn’t he?

But all of these brothers were here. Loving him. Him and his problems. And YS swore to spend the rest of his time here making up for it all. However short or long that time was allowed to be.

He loved his brothers. Maybe he shouldn’t love them this much when not much time has really passed. But he did anyway. YS loved his brothers. Maybe in another reality entirely, they were all friends. A reality YS could never find, but existed anyway. He hoped so.

Friends… he hoped so.

#RGBFverse #Uhhhh working to make up for a lot of things I've been doing lately #I can't offer much lmaooooo writing it is. I guess #I think there was more I wanted to write diving more in depth about the individuals but #It got lost in my head spinning over keeping track of so many characters my bad

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seriouslyhooked · 3 years ago

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Enchanted

CS AU oneshot where Emma and Killian meet at a parent/teacher conference (Emma is a single mother and Killian is helping raise Liam’s daughter). Instalove and fluff ensues as they make the most of the moment and fall under each others spell. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hello everyone, and welcome back to another installment of the Captain Swan Mixtape. I think about this series of oneshots all the time, and I have been hoping to get to that amazing and hard to fathom milestone of 200 chapters forever. At long last, I have the path in mind, beginning with this chapter. This song, ‘Enchanted’ by Taylor Swift, was requested ages ago (literally years and years back), but I finally found an idea to go with it, and I’ve run with it as best I can. I would have loved to make this a longer, more detailed story, but I hope you will all enjoy this meet cute and the fluff that ensues. Thank you all for reading, and let me know what you think!

I knew I should have taken a cab. Freaking train delays. I swear these lines get slower and slower every year. And now I’m late to school. God, why is that still so stressful?!

The thoughts clamored through Emma’s head as she made her way up the stairs at a midtown subway station. She was practically running, dodging New Yorkers and tourists alike to get out into the last of the daylight, but the damage was done. She was hopelessly and undeniably late. Still, she needed to try and make up some ground. The parent/teacher night at Misthaven Prep was starting in a matter of moments, and she was already bound to be the fixation of the evening. She hated to add ‘absent’ to the list of unkind descriptions all the busybody class moms had been creating for her.

Through the grace of something like a guardian angel or fairy godmother, Emma made every other crossing light, hustling as fast as she could the last two blocks to Henry’s school. Any other day she’d be worried about her outfit. Dark wash jeans and her red leather jacket may be perfect for perp pick up, but they were not exactly the uniform of academy mothers. It had simply been one of those days though, and she was honestly lucky to get here at all. As it was, she had to miss dinner with her kid, something Emma truly cherished, and she was frustrated at the change in her itinerary even as her anxiety crept higher and higher.

When she rounded the corner and saw parents still filing in, Emma let out a sigh of relief. Thank God, she’d made it. Just barely, but she was here. She schooled her breathing, trying to calm the chaos of this early evening sprint, and made a bit of progress. That respite only lasted a few seconds though. As soon as she walked through the wrought iron gates and brick façade of the old, but pristinely kept academy, the whispers began.

“Oh, so she did come after all. Will wonders ever cease?”

“But look what she’s wearing. Red leather? What kind of message does that send?”

“And jeans no less. Non-designer.”

“The woman wouldn’t know designer if it slapped her senseless.”

“Wait, are those… converse?”

“What in the world is a converse?”

“A tennis shoe. No – worse – a sneaker.”

That last revelation caused a certified twittering among the judgmental Moms behind Emma. As if anyone in the world, with money or not, was unaware of what a Converse was. That was a universal name, and she was pretty sure even celebrities deigned to wear them now and again. But these mothers were completely over the top and almost laughable in their disdain, trying to climb higher in their little social strata by putting her down on all levels. The constant insults thrown her way stung, but Emma tried her best to ignore them, crossing into the threshold of Ms. Blanchard’s classroom after wandering through the maze that was Henry’s elementary school.

Scanning the classroom for some sort of haven, Emma noted that there were seats to the side and in the middle. Excellent. The best place to fade into the background was off to the side. Despite the beliefs of many, the back of a room wasn’t the place to get lost, and the first time she’d chosen the back at Henry’s 3rd grade open house, the whispers continued. When Emma overcorrected for the 4th grade showing and sat in the front, she was expected to participate and her answers sparked more comments than they merited. Now, with Henry in 5th grade, her only hope was to shrug off her jacket and pray for mercy while claiming a seat to the side and in the center row. Thankfully, mercy came in the form of a petite woman with a dark brown pixie cut.

“Good evening parents, guardians, and distinguished guests. Welcome to Misthaven’s parent/teacher conference. I’m Mary Margaret Blanchard as you all know, and it’s been my absolute pleasure to teach your children so far this year.”

“Of course it’s a pleasure!” A voice screeched out, like nails on a chalkboard, and terribly timed. Mary Margaret had only just begun her welcome, but it didn’t matter to this self-absorbed socialite. “My Bartholomew is a prodigy and a predetermined master of many things.”

Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing and fought valiantly to ward off an eye roll. The ‘prodigy’ in question, aside from having a laughable name in the modern era, was also the son of one of most annoying women alive. Zelena Gold thought the sun rose and set in deference to her and her wealthy family. Her own lineage was of questionable origins. She was ‘descended of some of the world’s most remarkable people.’ And that wasn’t paraphrasing, that was a direct quote Emma could recite from memory for how much she’d heard it. No telling if those people were royals or robber barons. Emma would guess they were run of the mill harpies, but she knew better than to say that.

Zelena’s husband, who notoriously went by only his last name, was seated beside her, glowering but dressed with precision and opulence in mind. Gold’s money came from nearly everything, and his reputation across the city stemmed from a reptilian coldness and calculated nature. It was clear he held no affection for his wife. Indeed, if he cared even remotely for his child it would be shocking. Like most of the men here, care for their sons was more about preparing an heir and securing a legacy than genuine love. It all gave Emma the creeps. How someone could have children and feel so little was beyond her, but she’d seen it over and over again. Hell, she’d been dropped off at a fire station without so much as a note as a baby. She was well versed in rejection and parental abandonment.

“Our class is blessed with so many talented and intelligent students this year,” Ms. Blanchard replied with calm in the face of calamity. Henry always talked about how much he admired his teacher, but Emma could see why. She was handling the mess, but not debasing herself to do so. “And that actually brings us to some exciting news. The 5th grade learning modules are adding a new unit this year centered on being mindful citizens and caretakers. Research shows children who practice their empathy and giving to others when they are still young are much more likely to –,”

“More likely to waste their time working with no earnings of note or to form a tiresome save the world complex.”

Ah, Arthur King, new money millionaire, tech titan, and if Emma had to guess, B-list embezzler. She hadn’t done any actual research into that, but there were enough rumblings in her work and plenty of red flags just in King’s mannerisms for her to be on alert. She gave him five years, maybe ten, before the world came crashing in on him for some reason or other. Guys like him always had a monumental crash and burn moment.

“My son doesn’t need elementary empathy bootcamp, Ms. Blanchard. He needs order and routine. The only way he’ll take over King industries someday is if Malcolm learns a little discipline.”

“Misthaven blends the best of both, Mr. King, I assure you.”

Emma was impressed. Mary Margaret was firm but still polite enough to get away with it. Disagreeing, or even holding steady against people in this sphere was a dangerous game. Emma wondered if this world was familiar to Mary Margaret beyond teaching experience. It wasn’t easy managing people like this, and it seemed to take a lifetime of fancy lessons and feisty in-fighting to get a handle on the dos and donts of Manhattan’s elite.

“It better be the best for what we’re paying,” another woman said.

“Well, what some of us are paying.”

Emma didn’t look away from Mary Margaret, watching as Henry’s instructor let her mask slip, and a pronounced frown formed at her lips. Her eyes filled with concern and then a not so small amount of anger. The judgment in tone and the subtle way the snarky voice sounded towards her told Emma all she needed to know: this grouchy and gauche group was united in one thing, a deep disdain for students like her son.

Henry was actually a prodigy, testing at a remarkable percentile in math and reading while also taking to nearly everything else he tried with ease. He was the only 5th grader she knew with a command of piano, painting, and Plato. Seriously, her kid was reading Plato at 10, and Emma was just along for the ride. When the chance to come to Misthaven presented itself, she said yes, knowing Henry would be better served in a school with the most competitive academics. The downside was the closed-mindedness. So far it wasn’t an issue for Henry in the classroom. The kids were still kind at this age and he had a great teacher who had compassion and care. These parents though… they were ruthless and resentful.

Don’t let them see you sweat, Emma. They’re no better than you. You’re worth just as much as they are. You are enough. No one can take that from you.

It was painful that she’d had to resort to these affirmations, ones she learned at the instruction of the only caring case worker she’d ever had. They were the only words to get her through high school, and even they couldn’t keep her enrolled the whole time. She’d run away at 16, and only after having Henry did Emma finish her GED. She’d managed to earn her BA in forensic science last year as well, after working and trying to balance everything she could for Henry through the course of his young life. But these people didn’t care about how impossible that had seemed until it was done. If anything, majoring in a relevant discipline aimed at helping her ‘little detective business’ was something to be mocked and not encouraged.

While she silently counseled herself to stay strong, the door opened, completely rerouting the energy of the night. All eyes flew to whoever was brave enough to interrupt, and Emma was caught immediately in the sight of the man before her. Wow, he was… well she didn’t really know how to phrase it. He was so…

“Sweet Lord in heaven, that man is the sweetest sight for the sorest eyes.”

The whispered words came from of the mothers behind her. It was completely out of the realm of speak for this group. This woman was southern, and her assessment didn’t blend so easily here, but Emma agreed with this southern transplant. She might not have said it quite like that, but to claim otherwise would be a lie. Handsome was putting it mildly. This man was gorgeous.

Dark features and deep blue eyes were the first things Emma noticed about him. The combo was known to be lethal, but this guy took it to a new level. It had been ages since a man made Emma feel anything more than mild interest, but this was instant and incandescent. Like lightning slicing through a first summer storm, crackling and tantalizing but dangerous too. The feeling was so sudden and compelling that it almost stole her breath. Her heart rate kicked up, her senses locked in, and though she never did this, she started to tune out her surroundings and focus solely on him. The rest of the world seemed of little importance in this moment. She was preoccupied with a man so hot it was sinful.

During her blatant perusal, Emma took in everything she could, and she was struck by his commanding presence without speaking a single word. Swagger was what people usually called it, but now she knew the word was overused. Emma was certain that a term like that was made for a man like this, who even in a moment of potential embarrassment was cool and collected. His body was fit, and his clothes made that as clear as possible. This was why people paid for custom suits. The classic charcoal gray garments were made for him, transforming that roughish and rough appeal that he’d no doubt always possess into something more presentable.

Emma pictured him at the end of a conference table, stories above the city, in one of the downtown skyscrapers. He’d fit there, exuding the command and power of a competent corporate captain, but then she had a flash of something else, an image of him in a more relaxed setting. Dark lighting but with a warm glow, hair mussed, eyes smiling. Casual and honest, transformed from who he was here to something even more tantalizing. She felt caught in the fantasy, wondering if there was more to this mysterious stranger. Then he spoke aloud, cutting through the tension.

“Apologies, lass. You must be Ms. Blanchard.”

Oh God that voice – that accent – this had to be a set-up of some kind, right? She almost searched around for hidden cameras, but that would have required looking away, and Emma wasn’t so sure that was possible. Like the rest of the room, she was caught up in the moment too tightly. She prided herself on calm and control. She could only hope the staring was coming across as mild interest and not something far more awkward.

“Oh, um, well, yes. I am… sorry, and you are?”

“Rather late, as it were. Continue, please.”

Dismissing the question about his identity, the man looked around the sea of chairs for an empty spot. Emma’s stomach flipped against her will. She knew the only remaining seat was the one beside her. His eyes scanned the crowd of self-absorbed parents until finding it. He made his way there. Emma watched as he took a seat, and she was stunned at his ability to look so good while perched in these silly school desks. She also noted his being here alone. Was he a single Dad? Or maybe part one of those families with multiple children across grades? Automatically she looked to his left hand. No ring. But that didn’t mean all that much in this city.

Focus, Emma. You’re not here to ogle. You’re here for Henry. Henry comes first. Always.

The thought pulled her back to attention. She looked to the front of the room and over to Mary Margaret. Most of the other parents had failed to do so yet, and Emma heard some whispers flitting through the room. Interesting. Whoever he was, it seemed his reputation preceded him. Unable to stop herself, she stole one more glance at the stranger, but this time he was looking at her, with that fire and emotion in his eyes she’d only just imagined. Emma was frozen, but not in fear, instead in fascination. For someone who she’d just clocked as in control and constantly cool, this man had changed direction. She could clearly see the effect she had on him. His expression spoke openly to his interest and attention. It was almost alarming how candid he was being, but all Emma felt was honesty. And heat. Definitely a scorching, raging inferno kind of heat.

“Have we met before, love?” he asked her, his voice a rumbled whisper meant only for her ears. She shivered, then prayed it wasn’t obvious.

“I don’t think so,” she replied, certain that there was no way she’d ever have forgotten a man like this. Still, Emma felt lucky to get anything coherent out at all when the general instinct she had around him was to be totally tongue-tied.

“It’s the strangest thing… I feel as if I know you, but you’re right. There’s no chance that I’d forget you,” he said, as if reading her mind. His eyes took in her features again, his gaze sparking new awareness and prompting swarms of long dormant butterflies to take flight through her chest. The blatant approval and consideration would usually be a turn off, but for the strangest reason, Emma was intrigued and desirous for more.

“Killian Jones,” he murmured before offering her his hand. She stared at him for a second, stunned at the formal greeting, but charmed all the same.

“Emma Swan.”

“Emma,” he murmured in reply, the rough tones of his voice washing over her as his thumb ran the softest trace against her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Is he seriously talking to that charity case?”

Zelena’s lack of manners could only be matched by the shrillness of her voice. It achieved it’s end goal, however, shattering the moment and causing Emma to retreat. She pulled her hand back from Killian, offering him an apologetic smile. His look was far darker, filled with anger on her behalf, and while Emma was touched, she shook her head slightly, trying to tell him it wasn’t worth it. Her gesture did the trick, and though he still seemed displeased, Killian sat back and offered only a cold look to Zelena and Gold. The latter actually had the sense to look shamed, and Emma was amazed to hear the man offer a mumbled request.

“Excuse my wife, Jones. She forgets herself.”

Stunned at her husband’s words, Zelena lost the ability to continue with her judgments aloud, and thankfully Mary Margaret took the opportunity to refocus. Emma shifted her attention to Henry’s teacher once more, grounding herself in the good of this situation. Despite hostility from other parents, her kid was going to get the best that any education system had to offer. She could only imagine how much he would learn, and she knew with his boundless curiosity there would always be more questions and queries.

Ms. Blanchard also clearly had the patience and temerity needed in a truly great teacher. When sharing the efforts of the students so far this term on a particular biology project, she gave great detail but also remained mindful of time. She then managed the question and answer portion of the night with an almost acrobatic skill, deflecting the ridiculous and circling back to the positives. Everything came back to the kids, and that told Emma that she’d made the right choice, no matter the hardships.

Soon enough the bell rang, signaling the end of the parent teacher session, and the start of the ‘tours and treats’ portion of the evening. The mothers who ran the school’s PTA treated this evening like a theme party, and Emma could only imagine what was in store. She stood, gathering her things but thought to herself about what to do next.

Do I really need to go? I know I should, but…

“If it’s an out your seeking, Swan, I might have just the thing.”

Despite her pretense at being unaffected, Emma never lost track of Killian throughout the conference. Her constant awareness of him was undeniable, but so were the nerves that took hold with someone so attractive nearby. She’d been good at tamping down the need – yes, need – to look at him during the meeting, but now she was helpless to resist. She watched as the last few parents left the room, and then steeled herself for impact. Sure enough, when their eyes met, her heart skipped.

“Why am I not surprised you were the type to ditch class?” Emma asked, going on gut, since she still knew nothing about him. He laughed and she melted a little more, longing to linger in the delicious sound.

“Probably because you’re as bright as your boy. Henry, right?” Emma was shocked and then a bit on edge. How did he know her son? Sensing her discomfort, Killian answered freely. “My niece, Arabella, speaks of Henry often. Quite a pair they make. He appears to be the brains, and Bella the brawn.”

“I’m sorry?” Emma asked, confused on the teasing until she heard another laugh. They both looked to Mary Margaret who was still standing there.

“I hate to be that person eavesdropping. I know, seriously uncool, it’s just… well it’s very accurate. Henry’s the mastermind and Bella handles business.”

“Henry’s not in trouble, is he?” Emma asked, knowing deep down that her kid was better than that, but feeling the compulsion to check all the same.

“Oh no, quite the opposite,” Mary Margaret said, looking at the two of them before something sparked in her eyes and her smile grew wider. “I’m sure Mr. Jones is happy to elaborate. As for skipping out? Normally I advise against it. But in this case, it seems right to make an exception.”

Without another word, Mary Margaret left the room, headed to places unknown and Emma was stunned. Was Henry’s teacher trying to give them alone time? Like a set up? Oh Jesus. Could she handle that? The nerves came rushing back, but then Killian took her hand and all that energy flared to something new, something warm and brilliant and blissful. Just like before, her senses lit up, and her body filled with this aching sense of familiarity. Her heart pounded an unsteady rhythm, but her eyes glanced back at him, seeing the earnest desire shining in his bright blue eyes. Whatever was happening, he was with her in it, and clearly he was interested in seeing this through.

“What do you say, Swan? Do you trust me?”

……

“Do you trust me?”

The question may seem mild enough, but Killian knew, even from this most basic of introductions, that trust was a rare gift bestowed by Emma Swan. He couldn’t blame her, as he felt the same. The world was full of people who took advantage and played the game. They had motives centered in self-interest and many tried to hide that side of themselves until they’d taken you in and used you in ways you hadn’t expected. Knowing how many people had tried to take advantage of him over the years made belief in others often untenable. He had a handful of people he considered himself close with. His brother, Liam, his business partner, David, and his niece, Arabella rounded out the top of that list. That a girl of ten (even if she was going on thirty) was ranked so highly spoke loudly enough about his connectedness to others, but what could he say? He’d been burned before. Badly.

But Emma’s different. I know she is.

The thought flitted through his mind, mirroring the bevy of reflections he’d been processing since meeting her half an hour before. The last place he ever expected to be struck in love was a parent teacher conference, but Liam had begged him to attend in his stead, and Killian couldn’t refuse. Now he was more grateful than he could ever put into words. Never before had he been so glad to be driven to distraction.

Emma was a breath of fresh air and a vision amongst of sea of preening peacocks. With golden hair, jade-colored eyes, and a face and a figure that would haunt a man’s dreams, she was so far beyond stunning. But it was something far deeper than beauty that called to him tonight, something in her manner that couldn’t be denied. He prided himself on being a smart man. One didn’t achieve his kind of success without a brain to build an empire, and as he looked at Emma, he saw a warrior. Strong in the face of resistance, bright in the dark swirl of catty Manhattan moms. She was a marvel, and he was desperate for her reply.

“Yes.”

The answer seemed to surprise Emma almost as much as it encouraged him, but before she could regret it, he took her hand in his once more. He reveled in the sensation of rightness being close to her like this, and when instinct guided his way, he didn’t second guess. He kissed her hand in what some may call an overtly flirtatious move, but the magic of the moment called for something out of the ordinary. He clocked the flush of pink that stained her cheeks, the color that graced her features, and the change in her expression. She was flustered, but happy, and he was proud at sensing what she needed even if she didn’t know herself. Anyone who knew him would hardly recognize him right now, so enchanted by a woman he’d just met, and yet Killian had never felt more himself.

“Thank you. I swear, I won’t let you down.”

“Good.”

With their meaningful agreement, the two of them made an exit from the school, faster than expected, thanks to Emma’s helpful insights. She explained the tendency to check for escape routes as part of her work, and he was intrigued at a woman who chose private investigation for employment. He had no doubt she was brilliant at it, but there was little time to get to the particulars. Soon enough they were out in the New York nighttime, with the hustle and bustle and noise, and he had precious little time to lead them to their destination. Ah, and there was the rub. Because despite his show of confidence, he still wasn’t exactly sure where that destination would be.

“If we’re still in the ‘brainstorm’ phase of this little adventure, I should just say that my babysitter’s got class in the morning. I’ve only got about an hour before she’ll expect me back.”

“I’m in a similar predicament,” he admitted, thinking of his housekeeper, Mrs. Potts, and her duties at home. The older woman would never dream of faulting him for staying late tonight while she watched Arabella, and if she knew it was to pursue a woman like Emma, she’d volunteer for endless service, but he’d like to see Bella before bed. She may be growing up far faster than he wanted, but she still loved a goodnight story from her father or her uncle when the time came.

“What if we split the difference?” she asked him, humor in her eyes as she watched his surprise. “I’ll handle dinner, you handle the date.”

“Ah, so this is a date?” he quipped, his smile so big it nearly hurt. Emma blushed again. She hadn’t meant it that way, but no matter. He’d take what he was given and be glad for it. “Good to know. In that case. I’ve just the place.”

“So do I.” Pulling out her phone she opened an app and then smiled. “And she’s right on time.”

Emma’s confidence was beautiful, even if her words confounded him. He was so taken by her command of the situation that he followed her lead. Her destination was close, in fact, it was a food truck nestled among a crowd of others in a park only half a block away. The crowd was insane here, and on a Tuesday no less. This pop up dining experience had seemingly just begun. Some trucks were still arriving, and windows were all starting to ascend. Killian stayed close as Emma skipped the line at the most flamboyantly decorated caravan. He expected a fight, this was New York after all, but he watched in amazement as many others from the queue greeted Emma warmly. No one took any issue with her approaching the front. Interesting to say the least.

“Okay, I am definitely hallucinating,” a smiling woman with long brown hair jested from inside the truck. “There’s no way that Emma Swan is at my truck tonight. Not when she had a date with the most dreadful people in our fair city.”

“Change of plans,” Emma said with a smile before nodding back to him. The woman looked over and her eyes went big, and then she let loose a wolfish smile.

“And what a change it is. Frankly, he looks like a way better date.”

“I like to think so,” Killian offered in an attempt to pivot from being openly ogled by Emma’s flirtatious friend. “Killian Jones.”

“Ruby Lucas. So, tell me, Killian, what are your intentions with my girl, Emma?”

“Ruby.” Emma’s mortification touched him, and as much as he may like to laugh, he held back in the pursuit of easing her mind.

“They’re completely honorable, but tragically fleeting in the short term. Emma’s agreed to a date, as you’ve surmised, but we’ve only a bit of time before the clock strikes twelve.”

Ruby looked to Emma for clarity and Emma explained the need to get back to the kids. Ruby looked poised to continue her questioning, but she thought better of it, calling back into the truck to her coworker to grab two ‘Emma Specials.’ Before it should be possible, the food was ready, and Emma was bidding her friend goodbye. He took the bag from her grasp, searching for a place to sit, but there was none.

“Don’t worry, this is made for on the go consumption. It’s why she named it for me. Because I’m always on the run.”

Killian was delighted to find she was right, and the grilled, cheesy goodness was beyond anything he could imagine. The layers and flavors, bursting with creativity and unexpected combinations, were amazing. This was quite possibly the best meal he’d had in this city, and it had come from a truck of all places. Equally amazing was how much he enjoyed this on the go approach. He’d always believed a woman should be wined and dined in a more upscale setting, with space, and time and ambiance. But this felt more real, and the difference in the start of this story only confirmed to Killian that it was truly something special.

Emma’s incredible culinary insights also set the bar high for his portion of the night’s events, but he was assured of his choice. Just like with dinner, timing was everything and luck would hopefully be on his side. The place was nearby, and Killian was certain Emma would have never been there before, two obvious reasons for going. It was also a hidden gem of this city along the lines of Ruby’s truck, just in a different way. Ten minute’s walk brought them to the place in question, a stone building nestled among concrete and cement. From the outside, the location was nondescript and some may even say uninteresting, but there was something truly incredible waiting through the doors. The lights in the main room were still on, a good sign for his efforts. Killian clicked the buzzer on the intercom outside and heard the crackle of an old system. Silence. He clicked again. Same thing. One last time and he had the desired effect.

“We’re closed. Opening is tomorrow night.”

“Graham, it’s Killian.”

Immediately the buzzer connected, and Killian pulled open the bronzed grate that had been barred over the doorway. With a hand at the small of her back, Killian led Emma inside and they walked into the front room. It appeared, at this juncture, to be any other run of the mill gallery, but Killian knew better. He’d been here many times before and he’d never left without a substantial shift in mind and body.

“Didn’t take you for the gallery type.” Emma’s words pulled Killian’s attention, and her smirk prompted one of his own.

“I’m full of surprises.”

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

Killian looked to the familiar voice and found Graham. His old friend from college had laughter in his eyes, and a knowing smile on his face. With a glance at Emma and then back at Killian, Graham raised a brow. Killian gave a subtle nod and with that the two of them acknowledged all that they needed to. Killian had never asked for a favor like this before. The woman beside him must truly be something, and Graham was happy not to pry.

“I hope we’re not disturbing you,” Emma said after she and Graham had been introduced. “You’re clearly closed, and an opening is a big deal.”

“We are, and it is, but Killian knows me well enough by now to realize that the show has been ready for days.”

“Weeks more likely,” Killian muttered. Graham grinned.

“No comment.

“So what happened? You just finished before the deadline?” Emma asked, curious at the exchange.

“Nope. I planned it this way. Few people realize that, except for Killian. My other patrons would never let me hear the end of it. They like a bit more theater and drama from their artists. But I like the calm before the storm. Debuts are the start of a marathon. It’ll be nonstop for weeks. Tonight is quiet. Peaceful. How my art was meant to be.”

“And you’re sure we’re not putting you out?” Killian’s heart clenched at Emma’s thoughtfulness. She didn’t know his friend at all, but she was conscious of his feelings, and empathetic to his needs in the situation.

“I’m sure. Besides, friends don’t put you out, and Killian is the best kind of friend. He won’t tell you this, but I only had the chance to create this place because of him. He believed in me long before I did. The least I can do is help him impress a beautiful woman.”

“Watch it, mate.”

Graham laughed, shaking his head but giving them permission to look for as long as they wanted. “I’ll be here all night. It was a pleasure, Emma. Hope to see you again.”

She thanked him, but the idea of seeing Graham again was quickly replaced when they walked to the next room. Emma and Killian were both immersed in the most astonishing exhibit he’d seen in ages. Graham’s expression was based in multimedia, from sculpture to painting to light work, and he’d out done himself this time.

Entitled ‘Memories of Maine’ the show spanned three different rooms. These areas told the story of a place Killian had never been but that instantly felt sacred. It depicted the region with depth and detail and wonder. It was difficult to know where to begin, but slowly, and naturally, he and Emma walked together side by side. They were captivated by the same bursts of color and glass and light. One particularly beautiful wall bore a three-dimensional scene of waves along the shoreline. Shards of hand blown glass, shells, plastic and metal were woven together or jaggedly juxtaposed with meticulous attention to detail. Up close every component rebelled against its surroundings, but from afar, it looked like sea foam and soft laps of the sea on a sunny summer day.

Another sculpture of substantial height and size reflected pine tree canopies. The scent of it was heavy in the air, and not synthetically, but naturally. Killian knew there were hidden pine trees somewhere, lending their essence to the art. A cool breeze could be felt of indiscernible origins and it moved the eye to paintings on the wall of lifelike leaves. Foliage en masse, with the decay of summer looking more alive than ever before. Then the lighting changed, and an illusion of snow appeared. The paint changed too, with new swirls and texture. All it once there was that familiar feeling that came when fall kissed the world goodbye and the first frozen flaked made contact.

As stunning as these pieces were, they were two of more than a dozen central works. Killian never knew the how of Graham’s creations. There were too many amazing skills needed and countless hours of dreaming and crafting for Killian to make sense of it. But the end result was always something he admired. It said something then, that in the midst of such extraordinary talent, he was still ever fixated on Emma. Watching her experience this all for the first time was a revelation in itself. Her amazement was childlike, and the innocent expression of delight and surprise felt healing. He knew in his heart that she knew burdens. Whatever those burdens may be, and whatever scars remained because of them, the two of them shared that past of pain and trial. But this was a place outside of that. This was a place of hope and of beginnings.

“I can’t believe this is real,” Emma said finally, after close to thirty minutes of quiet and reflection. She looked to him, eyes lit up by the world around them, but focused just on him.

“Which part, love?”

“All of it. This place. Tonight. You. I keep thinking…”

She trailed off and he stepped closer, taking her into his arms as he’d wanted to from their first meeting. She didn’t resist, instead melting into him, like she found comfort in the embrace. The feeling of being home coursed through him, and as he gazed upon her, he knew. This was the face of his forever. It may take time to convince her, but he would be damned before he let Emma get away. Whatever it took, he silently vowed to be worthy of her and her love.

“You keep thinking that the other shoe will drop, or you’ll wake suddenly and realize this was mere imagination.” His articulation of her thoughts had her eyes misting slightly as she worried her lip. He moved his hand to cup her cheek, smoothing out that particularly tempting show of tension. “But it is real, Emma. I swear to you, it’s real.”

He couldn’t be sure which of them moved first, but he wanted to believe they chose together in that moment to seal this discovery with a kiss. It was everything he’d hoped and more, charged with a rush of warmth and need but a knowledge that it was simply the first of many. He was lost in her and found there too, already addicted to her nearness and her care. Her taste was pure intoxication, the subtle sounds of her satisfied sighs music to his ears. It was the makings of a memory he’d cherish always. When they finally broke apart sometime later, he was amused to find the ceiling above them was a swirling sea of stars. It was the perfect space for this stolen moment. A surreal start of something spectacular.

“I hate to say goodbye,” she murmured, a slight frown threatening to appear before he kissed her quickly again. When he pulled back she smiled, despite herself.

They both knew that the time had come to go back home. They both had responsibilities to attend to, namely two children who meant the world to them. For Emma, there could be nothing more important than her son and Killian understood that. He had learned just how fierce her love for Henry was tonight, and he was awed by that love. That she was a great mother he had no doubt. He only hoped that someday there’d be space for him too in the life she’d fought so valiantly to make.

“Then we won’t. I’ve never been a fan of farewells. Besides, this is hardly over.”

“You seem pretty sure of that,” she joked, her resistance feigned and not meant in earnest. Her hands ran over his chest lightly, a dizzying display of inclination. Their comfort with each other already had to be fated. Two parts of one whole, two souls finally finding their anchor.

“That’s because I am.”

“So what do we say then? If not goodbye?”

“We say…” He thought about it, and at first he thought no words would do this justice. But ultimately decided to go with what he truly felt and to express those feelings with conviction and honesty. “We say it was enchanting to meet you.”

“It was,” she agreed, humming out a sound of affirmation.

“We say the best is yet to come.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“And then we say, until tomorrow, love.”

“Tomorrow.”

And with that promise, and a final kiss, the two of them departed from this sacred place together, knowing that the enchantment was destined to linger, and that the love that sparked this evening would fill a lifetime with happiness and joy.

…………………..

There I was again tonight Forcing laughter, faking smiles Same old tired, lonely place Walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy Vanished when I saw your face All I can say is, it was enchanting to meet you Your eyes whispered, "Have we met?" 'Cross the room your silhouette Starts to make its way to me The playful conversation starts Counter all your quick remarks Like passing notes in secrecy And it was enchanting to meet you All I can say is, I was enchanted to meet you This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you The lingering question kept me up 2 AM, who do you love? I wonder 'til I'm wide awake And now I'm pacing back and forth Wishing you were at my door I'd open up and you would say, "Hey" It was enchanting to meet you All I know is, I was enchanted to meet you This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew That this night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you This is me praying that This was the very first page Not where the story line ends My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon I was enchanted to meet you Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you

Post-Note: So there we have it! Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope that you enjoyed the chapter. To the lovely reader who asked for this so long ago, I hope this story finds you and I am so grateful for your suggestion. With my muse as quiet as it has been, it’s been wonderful to find things that inspire me. I am not sure when I will have another chapter update, but in the meantime, I am wishing you all well and hope you have a great start to your summer!

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, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163, Part 164,Part 165, Part 166, Part 167, Part 168, Part 169, Part 170,Part 171,Part 172, Part 173, Part 174, Part 175, Part 176,Part 177, Part 178, Part 179 , Part 180, Part 181, Part 182, Part 183, Part 184, Part 185, Part 186, Part 187, Part 188, Part 189, Part 190, Part 191, Part 192, Part 193, Part 194, Part 195, Part 196, Part 197

Tagging some friends who may enjoy: @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @resident-of-storybrooke @winterbaby89 @teamhook

#captain swan #captain swan au #captain swan fic #captain swan oneshot #cs fic #cs #cs au #cs ff #cs fluff #cs first date #cs oneshot #captain swan mixtape #cs mixtape #enchanted #ouat ff #ouat fic

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