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searchingwardrobes · 6 months ago

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Scarborough Fair 9/?

Yes, it's true. You aren't dreaming. I am finally updating this long-neglected fic! Not only that, but I will be finishing it. As a matter of fact, you will have an update every day this week. If anyone still cares, that is, lol. I know the fandom isn't what it once was. However, I suddenly got inspired again to finish this. So whether or not anyone reads it, it's getting the resolution it deserves. Why did I neglect it for so long? Writer's block. I just haven't written hardly a thing in at least a year, probably longer. So when I laid awake, unable to sleep because I was finishing this fic in my head, I was ecstatic. That's why I'm finishing it whether anyone reads it or not. Of course, if you are still reading it, may I politely suggest commenting? It definitely feeds the muse!

Rest assured, there will be an update tomorrow. I don't have much going on tomorrow, and I actually planned more in this chapter originally. So be looking out for that!

Much thanks to the two biggest fans of this fic, Krystal @kmomof4 and Marta @snowbellewells - re-reading your reblogs of this fic helped kick me back into high gear!

And as an extra treat, here is a picture of Emma's wedding dress in this chapter:

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Emma Swan has had a charmed life, despite being a foster child. She has a wonderful family who loves her, and the best friends in the world. The only thing that mars her idyllic existence is her birth mother: a homeless woman who mutters nonsensical rhymes and claims to be Snow White. One fateful night, however, Emma’s world is shattered. Perhaps her mother’s rhymes aren’t nonsense after all.

Rated: M for date rape, dubious consent, teen pregnancy, and sexy times (the good kind!)

Words: Over 1k in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging: (let me know if you wish to be removed or added): @snowbellewells @teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @xhookswenchx-reads-blog @thisonesatellite @welllpthisishappening @spartanguard @ohmakemeahercules @tiganasummertree @sparlecorn93 @sals86 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @zaharadessert @huntressandlioness1 @jamif @undercaffinatednightmare @onceratheart18 @sparlecorn93 @sals86 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @zaharadessert @huntressay

Liam and Ingrid, unsurprisingly, had concerns when they came home to Emma and Killian announcing their engagement. Anna, unsurprisingly, was bouncing up and down with joy.

“Are you sure you’re proposing for the right reasons?” Was their main question for Killian.

“Well, the main reason is I love her,” he told them with conviction, “but it’s also the timing. She needs me. I know deep in my bones I was always meant to be her husband, so if she needs me now, why wait?”

“Are you sure you aren’t just accepting out of fear? Because it’s safe?” Was their main question for Emma.

Emma’s answer was delivered with just as much conviction. “It isn’t just that I feel safe with Killian; I love him. Shouldn’t love feel safe, anyway? And I feel the same way he does. If we waited five more years, or ten, or twenty, nothing would change. We’re meant to be together.”

Liam and Ingrid couldn’t pretend to be surprised. Both of them had noticed a soulmate type of connection between Emma and Killian for a long time. They also couldn’t deny the logic of the decision when it came to Emma’s security and the baby’s. There was only one other concern.

“What about school?”

“I can finish high school married just as well as I can single,” Emma told them with a shrug, and Killian vowed he wouldn’t get in the way of her education.

“But Boston College, Killian?”

He squared his shoulders and looked his brother dead in the eyes. “I won’t be returning. I’ve already told my boss he can count on me full time with the construction company. He’s promoting me to a foreman position, so I can easily support Emma. When the baby’s a little older, I can enroll at Red Oak and get my degree there.”

Liam wanted to argue, but there really wasn’t anything wrong with Killian’s plan. Lots of people worked a year or two, or longer, before getting a degree. He wanted to say that Boston College was a lot more prestigious than Red Oak, but he knew full well it was a pretty weak argument. Killian would save a lot of money by transferring to Red Oak, not to mention gaining job experience. He let out a long breath and shared a meaningful look with his wife.

“Well okay, then,” she said, her signature grin filling her face, “let’s plan a wedding!”

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A date was set for mid-August, giving Emma two weeks between the wedding and the first day of her senior year. Unfortunately, Elsa wouldn’t be back from her study abroad program in time for the ceremony. It also gave them only three weeks to throw a wedding together. Thankfully, neither Emma nor Killian were big on grand ceremonies.

The first item on Ingrid’s checklist was the venue. The bride and groom solved that easily: their own living room. Anna and Ingrid - and Elsa via Zoom - tried to protest that it was too small, but Emma just shrugged them off.

“We can just pull out all the furniture and line up folding chairs. It’s not like we’re inviting that many people.”

Ingrid was concerned that the second item, the dress, would be impossible. Fate, however, seemed to be in their favor. Emma found a vintage dress that suited her personality perfectly at a thrift store downtown. She hadn’t even been dress shopping that day. Ingrid had taken her for ice cream after one of her prenatal appointments, and they had decided to stroll around the square with their ice cream cones. They were simply walking along the sidewalk, licking scoops of chocolate ice cream, and suddenly, there it was, displayed in a window.

Emma wasn’t even sure it was meant to be a wedding dress, but it didn’t really matter. It was a cream colored, empire-wasted, sleeveless dress with one tier on the bottom of the long skirt. The fabric had a delicate floral pattern in light gold that shimmered when Emma moved. The top was a halter, which flattered Emma’s fuller bust due to her pregnancy. The empire waist also masked her growing baby bump and provided plenty of room in case she gained more in the next few weeks. When she tried it on, Ingrid started to cry.

An employee stopped to admire Emma. “We just got that in yesterday,” she told her. “A woman told us it was her mother’s prom dress in 1976.”

Emma’s mouth fell open as she locked eyes with Ingrid. Her foster mother pressed her hands to her mouth and let out a happy squeak.

“It’s fate, Emma,” she told her, and the two embraced.

They left the store with the dress lovingly wrapped in its original box, having paid a whopping thirty-five dollars and seventy-five cents.

Every single item on Ingrid’s list was checked off with simple solutions by the bride and groom:

Killian’s tux? Well, if Emma was wearing a 70s prom dress from a thrift shop, Killian would find a thrift store suit, too.

The food? A potluck lunch would do just fine.

The cake? The ones at the grocery store would do. As George Banks said in Father of the Bride, a cake is just flour, eggs, and sugar, right? Or something.

The only thing Killian was concerned about was a place to live. Sure, he knew his brother and Ingrid would never kick them out, and there was at least a modicum of privacy in his attic suite. Still, it would be a little awkward, for one. More than that, however, was Killian’s pride. If he was really providing for Emma and the baby, he should be able to put a roof over their heads.

His pride wouldn’t even allow him to go to his own brother with his concerns. Yet, Liam somehow knew anyway. Which was why he greeted Killian at the door one evening, a week and a half before the wedding, with a huge grin on his face and a slip of paper in his hand with an address on it.

After hearing what Liam had to say, Killian raced eagerly up the stairs to Emma’s room with the good news. He came to a sudden stop in Emma’s open doorway, the smile falling from his face. She was sitting atop her bed, hugging a pillow, hastily wiping tears from her cheeks. Her mother’s journal rested atop the quilt beside her.

“Hey,” Killian said softly as he entered the room, “what’s wrong?”

Emma slid over to make space for him on the bed, still trying to wipe the traces of tears from her cheeks. Killian picked up her mother’s journal as he made himself comfortable against the throw pillows along the headboard. Emma lifted his arm, put it around her shoulders, and tucked herself against him.

“Is it the curse?”

She shook her head. “It’s my mom,” she told him softly.

He waited, rubbing her arm gently, and pressing his lips to the top of her head. Emma let out a shaky sigh before continuing.

“I wish I knew where she was. I’m getting married, and she doesn’t even know.”

Killian nodded but said nothing. Emma lifted her head just enough to look up at him.

“Is it crazy that I wish she could be there?”

“Of course not. She’s your mother.”

“My insane, homeless, unpredictable mother who threw glass bottles at my head.”

Killian chuckled lightly. “True,” he tapped the green, cloth-covered notebook resting on the bedspread, “but I think reading her journal has given you a glimpse of the woman she was before. I think it’s made you realize, maybe for the first time, what you’ve lost.”

“That makes sense. I think I’m also worried that we haven’t heard from her in so long.”

Killian didn’t know what to say to ease her worries, so he cupped her face in his hand, tipped her chin up, and covered her lips with his. The kiss started gentle, intended simply to comfort, but then she responded so fervently and eagerly, that he lost himself. He shifted so she was beneath him, which caused a mewling sound to pass her lips that drove him wild. Emma slid her hand beneath his t-shirt, sending shivers up his spine as her fingers caressed his lower back. His hand grasped her waist, and his thumb slipped beneath the hem of her shirt. At the simple contact, Emma arched into him, and he began to trail kisses along her jawline. With one hand still on his back, her other hand threaded through his hair. She gasped when his lips trailed to the sensitive skin behind her ear, and something about the sound snapped him out of his haze of desire.

Killian pulled away abruptly and sat up, putting some distance between them. Emma still lay there on the bed, her face flushed, her hair splayed out on the pillows beneath her, a look of confusion marring her brow.

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he said thickly, fixing his own mussed hair with shaking hands.

“What for?” Emma asked indignantly, sitting up beside him. “We’re engaged.”

He turned to her and took her face gently in both hands. “I know. I love you, Emma, and I plan to cherish you. You deserve that. After everything you’ve been through, I’m not going to take you like this, hurried and frantic, thinking in the back of our minds that someone could interrupt us at any moment.”

Emma glanced sheepishly at the still open door and giggled. “Then close the door next time.”

He laughed with her and pulled her to him, holding her gently. He ran his fingers through her slightly tangled hair.

“I want to make love to you. Slowly. Thoroughly.”

Emma shivered in his arms. “Are you trying to torture me on purpose?”

He laughed again. “I feel a bit tortured, myself, truth be told. But we only have a week and a half. Then we’ll have the time and the privacy we deserve.”

“Time maybe. But privacy?”

Killian pulled the forgotten slip of paper from his pocket. “Yes, privacy.”

Emma snatched it from his hand, looking at it curiously as she settled in the middle of the bed with her legs crossed. “An address?”

“Our address,” he told her, grinning broadly.

“For real?” Emma’s eyes widened.

“For real.”

Emma squealed and threw her arms around his neck. He laughed as she peppered kisses all over his face.

“How?” she finally asked.

“There’s a professor of archaeology taking a sabbatical to do a dig in Greece. He told Liam he was looking for someone to take care of his house while he’s gone. So it’s ours. For free.”

“For free?”

Killian shrugged. “Well, there are also some maintenance things on the house I’m agreeing to do for him free of charge, but basically.”

Emma gazed in shock and happiness at the paper in her hands. “It’s too good to be true.”

“It’s fate.”

Emma’s eyes shone with happy tears as she looked back up at him. “It really is.”

Killian was ready to throw caution to the wind and press Emma back down into the pillows when Ingrid appeared in the doorway. He was worried what she would say, seeing him on Emma’s bed, but Ingrid seemed too ecstatic to notice.

“We’ve found her!” she told them.

“Who?” Emma asked.

“Your mom!”

#cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan fanfiction #cs au #cs impossible au #lieutenant duckling #modern fantasy #angst #cs angsty august #impossible au

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kmomof4 · 4 months ago

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X Never Ever Marks the Spot - A New Fic by @kmomof4 for @zaharadessert Birthday

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @zaharadessert !!!!!!!

So when I asked the discord last fall which fic I should work on next, you were the first to answer and I have to admit, I was a little surprised at your answer - Indiana Jones, for my birthday - since the other choices were Bridgerton inspired fics. But as they say... Your wish is my command! I hope you have a fabulous day, babe and that this fic helps you celebrate!!

The fic is inspired by Raiders of the Lost Ark and is complete with a prologue and then seven chapters. The chapters are rather short compared to what I usually post in a MC, so I'll be updating Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for the next three weeks.

And now thanks to whom it is due! To @snowbellewells for her outstanding beta services and constant encouragement, not to mention the FABULOUS and GORGEOUS artwork she made to accompany the fic!! You can find it under the cut. To @hollyethecurious for coming up with the title and for grammar help as I wrote. Thank you so so much ladies!!

Rating: M for smut and scary moments

Words: 2300 of approximately 24k

Tags: Inspired by Raiders of the Lost Ark, Birthday Fic for Zahara

On ao3

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615

@donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @djlbg

@lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica

@laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter

@ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie

@soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic

@elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779 @kymbersmith-90

@suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites @myfearless-love

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Prologue

The jungle dripped with humidity as the tall man who was undoubtedly the leader pushed through the next tangle of vines and branches on the way to an ancient temple that held the object of his desire.

Two men followed him - one plainly nervous, betrayed by the way his gaze darted around the jungle and the small flinches whenever the cries of animals concealed within the greenery reached them. The other was a native, and when the first man stopped for a moment, mopping his sweat-covered brow, he approached with a chuckle.

“Not used to the heat and humidity of Columbia, eh, Dr. Jones? Aren’t you glad you brought me along…” The smug smirk on his face made Dr. Killian Jones roll his eyes in response.

“I’m fine,” he deadpanned, “I can assure you. I’ve been in jungles much darker and far more dangerous than this. You just stay close.” He pushed forward again, stepping over the discarded skin of a very large snake with a visible shudder - not sure if it was a boa or anaconda. Spider monkeys and tamarins screamed from the treetops as they emerged into the clearing before the concealed entrance to the temple.

Killian turned to his companions.

“This is it,” he told them. “Just up that hill. You’re with me,” he said, pointing to the native. He turned to the other and pulled the gun he kept in the back of his waistband out and handed it to him. Killian rolled his eyes as the man took the weapon with trembling hands. He was as likely to shoot himself in the foot as anything he might try to aim at.

“Nobody has come out of there alive, señor,” the native warned him as they climbed the hill toward the temple.

Killian stopped and pinned the man with a hard stare. “I will.”

A few moments later, they entered. The native lifted the torch they’d just lit high so they could see into the forbidding darkness. They walked slowly and carefully, fully mindful that there were probably several booby traps between the entrance and the idol they sought. Killian reached out and swept aside the gossamer webs that blocked the way forward.

A gasp from the native made Killian turn around toward him. His eyes were wide and unblinking, his mouth a slack O of horror as he made a vague gesture with the torch toward Killian. Killian looked over his shoulder and could just see the hairy legs of a tarantula. Reaching over with his other hand, he used his looped up whip to brush off all the creepy crawlies he’d picked up so far. Looking again at his companion, he could see that he’d picked up a lot more than he had. He motioned for him to turn around and he brushed off twenty or more that covered the man’s back before they continued on.

A bright light shone on the wall ahead of them and Killian held out his hand to the side, communicating to the other man to stop. Killian knelt down, and crawled, keeping himself from blocking the light in any way. Once he was on the other side, he spoke.

“Stay out of the light.”

The man got as close to where the light was shining as he possibly could, while staying completely out of it. Once he stopped moving, Killian stood and thrust his hand into the light. The moment he did, several large spikes emerged from both walls on either side of them, with a partially decomposed corpse impaled on one side. It stopped less than a foot from the native’s face whose screams were muffled into the flesh of his arm.

Killian turned away, his eyes landing on nothing. He squinted for a moment until his companion made it to his side, holding the torch high again. There was no floor in front of them. The emptiness spread from wall to wall and was probably about twelve feet across. Even with a running jump, Killian wasn’t likely to make it. He looked up and saw a thick tree branch crossing the chasm. He flicked his whip, the end of it wrapping securely around the branch several times and then swung to the other side. Turning back, he swung the whip back over the trench where the other man waited. Once he’d joined him, Killian rested the handle of the whip on exposed roots attached to the walls before they continued on.

They turned a corner and could finally see the golden idol they sought. It sat on a pedestal about four feet high and at the sight of it, Killian’s companion almost jumped in delight.

“We must get it,” he exulted. “There is nothing to fear here.” He took a couple of steps toward it when Killian stopped him, his arm across his chest and pinning him to the wall.

“Oh, yes, there is,” he assured the foolhardy man through gritted teeth. He released him and moved back to the center of the corridor. Killian knelt down and looked closely at the grooves in between the laid stones between them and the idol. He looked to the walls and saw multiple faces carved into the stones of the walls, their eyes and mouths empty. He took the torch from the other man and examined the stones in front of them again. Spying a likely suspect, Killian placed the handle of the torch on a stone that was just slightly lower than the stones around it. The moment he did, a poisoned dart shot out from the wall and hit the torch, just above where Killian still held it.

Killian swallowed hard and looked at his companion. “Stay here,” he ordered him.

The man nodded, his eyes wide with fear. “Si, señor.”

Very carefully, Killian crossed the space between him and the idol. His gaze never left the floor in front of him, scanning back and forth, looking for the stones that wouldn’t trigger the poisoned arrows hidden in the walls.

Finally, he reached it.

It was solid gold and a light from up above shone down on it, making it sparkle even more, until his vision was nearly dazzled. He reached down to his waistband and pulled out a small but heavy sack. According to his research, something of equal size and weight needed to be left behind in place of the idol. If he didn’t want to trigger the mother of all booby traps, sealing his fate in the process. He held out the sack as close to the idol as he could and, quick as lightning, grabbed the idol, leaving the sack in its place.

When nothing happened, Killian released the breath he didn’t even know he was holding, stood up, and started back. A grinding sound behind him made him turn back to the pedestal, to see it slowly sinking into the ground. Killian’s frightened gaze jumped around the room, realizing he had to get out of there quickly. Too quickly to try and avoid the deadly traps between where he now stood and the entrance to the temple. He could only hope he could run fast enough.

So that’s exactly what he did.

He took a flying leap from the dias where the idol had sat for God knew how long and landed on a solid stone, nearly losing his balance in the process. His next step was the wrong one, however, and the high pitched whistle from the walls told him the poisoned darts were being activated. Killian ran for his life, his hired man just in front of him. His companion grabbed the end of the whip and swung across, landing on his butt when the whip released from the branch overhead.

“Throw me the whip,” Killian called.

“Toss me the idol,” he replied, turning toward the entrance. They could both see a stone wall slowly lowering just a few feet from where the other man stood. “There’s no time to argue,” he said, turning back to Killian. “Throw me the idol, I’ll throw you the whip.”

Killian threw the idol over to him. “Throw me the whip,” he cried urgently.

The man smirked and dropped the whip to the ground on the other side of the chasm from where Killian stood.

“Adiós, señor.”

With those words, the man ran. Killian grimaced and bared his teeth in fury. There was nothing for it. The descending wall was going to seal him in in about a minute, unless he somehow got over there. He ran back the other way and then got a running start before leaping as high and as far as he could. He didn’t quite make it, but caught himself on the edge of the chasm. He pulled himself up as quickly as he could and rolled himself under the wall, grabbing his whip at the last possible moment, the wall meeting the floor a split second after.

Killian stood to his feet, wrapping the whip back up, and took a deep breath before turning toward the entrance of the temple. He was met with the gruesome sight of his betrayer’s skewered body by the large spikes that the man had obviously forgotten about. Killian picked up the idol from the ground and continued on his way.

He’d only taken a few steps more when another grinding sound made him turn around. He looked up to see a huge boulder, taller than him, breaking free from whatever had held it back. It began to slowly roll toward Killian as he turned and ran for his life.

Killian could only move so fast, but gravity and Newton’s First Law of Motion was quite clearly in play as it got steadily closer and closer. Killian reached the entrance and leaped to the side and began rolling down the hill, as the boulder demolished the opening and rolled off in a different direction. When Killian finally came to a stop at the bottom of the hill, he looked up to see his other hired man as still as death.

“You alright there, mate?” Killian asked.

At his words, the man fell forward, his back pierced with many poisoned arrows. As soon as he hit the ground, half-naked men armed with bows and arrows and blow darts emerged from the foliage that surrounded them. Their faces and bodies were covered with paint and Killian knew that he was in trouble.

The men parted suddenly and Neal fucking Cassidy stepped into Killian’s sight line. He clenched his teeth, feeling the muscle in his jaw jump.

“Tsk, tsk Killian,” Neal gloated, kneeling in front of him. “I see that muscle twitching in your jaw. You know, you really shouldn’t grind your teeth like that. Makes you more likely to lose them.” The smirk disappeared from his face and he held out his hand expectantly. “The idol, please.”

Killian had no choice but to comply. Neal obviously had the loyalty of the tribe surrounding them and could have him killed with a single word. He glared daggers at his professional nemesis and slammed the idol down into Neal’s outstretched hand. He got only a paltry sense of satisfaction when Neal hissed in pain and shook the limb as he stood up, clenching and extending his fingers several times to make sure nothing was injured.

“Thank you, Dr. Jones,” he tossed over his shoulder. “I’ll see you around. You and I are not the only interested parties in this priceless artifact, you know.”

As soon as Neal passed through the circle of men surrounding them, Killian jumped to his feet and ran in the opposite direction. He only got about a thirty second head start when he heard the whoops and hollers of the tribe as they began to pursue him through the jungle.

Arrows and poisoned darts whizzed by him, but miraculously missed their mark as he ran for the tree line. As soon as he emerged, he started waving his arms and screaming madly for his pilot to start the plane that floated on the Amazon in front of him.

“Smeeeeeeeee,” he cried, running as fast as he could toward the river. William Smee, an old friend, sat on the floats of the plane with a fishing pole in the water. Hearing his name, he looked up to see his friend running toward him with about fifty natives chasing him at the same time as a fish took his bait. Smee stood to his feet, trying to reel in the fish before Killian made it to the plane, but when Killian hit the water and started swimming, Smee knew he had to let his pole go and get them in the air. Killian scrambled on the floats and into the front seat just as the propellers got revved up and lifted them into the air.

Killian felt something funny underneath him and looked down into his lap once they were airborne. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a snake slithering across his lap.

“Smee!” he screamed. “There’s a snake in the plane!”

“Oh, don’t worry about him! That’s just my pet snake, Jolly,” Smee informed him.

“I hate snakes, Smee!” Killian shouted. “I hate ‘em!”

Smee laughed from his seat behind him. ��Oh, come on, Killian! You’re not afraid of a little snake, are you? Show a little backbone!”

It was all Killian could do to grab the snake with both hands and hurl it behind him. The plane wobbled alarmingly for a moment as Smee hopefully caught his pet, but Killian was too terrified to turn around and look. As long as it was no longer in the seat with him, he was just fine.

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing!! I'd love to hear what you think! Next chapter will be up on Wednesday morning!!

#x never ever marks the spot #krystal writes #bday fic for zahara #art by marta #inspired by raiders of the lost ark

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myfearless-love · 6 months ago

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Shadows of Forever (Chapter 1/? - We are not in Kansas anymore)

Ho ho ho @mionedray! So I was your Secret Santa this year! It’s been such a joy to craft this tale and brainstorm with your answers along the way. Spoiler alert: I did manage to weave the soulmate storyline together with the Underworld theme (and I had so much fun doing it).

The story grew beyond what I originally planned, so it’s going to be a multi-chapter adventure, likely around 3–5 chapters. I truly hope you enjoy it, and thank you for inspiring such a wonderful journey!

Also, a special shoutout to my cousin, who is learning to become a digital artist and created the header for this story. It was such a great learning experience for her, and I’m so proud of how it turned out!

Thank you @cssecretsanta2020 for organizing the event!

Wishing you a very Happy Holidays! 🎄✨

Summary: Emma Swan's day is going terribly. She's stuck in the underworld with only fragments of memory, her only guide is an irritatingly handsome rogue who speaks in riddles, and the realm itself seems determined to either kill her or make her remember things she's pretty sure never happened. (Except they did happen. Maybe. Possibly in another lifetime.) As Emma and Killian navigate through a landscape of shifting shadows and darker truths, they can't shake the feeling that they've played this game before—and lost. But this time might be different, if they can trust each other long enough to uncover why the underworld feels less like hell and more like a very deadly case of déjà vu.

Words: 7783

Read on: AO3

Tagging some folks who might be interested:

@anmylica @elfiola @zaharadessert @gingerchangeling @undercaffinatednightmare

@jrob64 @teamhook @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @mie779

@winterbaby89 @tiganasummertree @stahlop @rylieblu @ultraluckycatnd

@eddisfargo @booksteaandtoomuchtv @laianely @hollyethecurious @resident-of-storybrooke

@beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @captainswan-kellie @veryverynotgoodwrites @lfh1226-linda

@snowbellewells @caught-in-the-filter @shady-swan-jones @bluewildcatfanatic @fairytalepetzkle

(Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list)

#cs ff #captain swan #killian jones #emma swan #cssecretsanta2024 #emma x killian #cs #ouat #captain hook #once upon a time #ouat ff #alternative universe #underworld #soulmates #niki writes #SOF

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jrob64 · 11 months ago

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Ghosted

Chapter 2 - All-Nighter

Thank you for the great response to this story! I'm very happy to be able to post chapter 2 somewhat quickly. Chapter 3 is more than halfway written, so you shouldn't have to wait long for it either. I still don't know if it will be the final chapter, or if there will be one more after that.

A big thank you and long-distance hugs to my wonderful beta @hookedmom; the people responsible for the fantastic pic set @kmomof4 & @motherkatereloyshipper; and my fellow mods of the CSSNS24 @ultraluckycatnd, @stahlop, @winterbaby89 & @kmomof4. You're all very special to me!

DISCLAIMER: All I know about ghost hunting is what I've watched on Ghost Adventures and a bit of research I did. I also know next to nothing about how YouTube works, so please excuse all errors. Keep in mind that this is fanfic and isn't meant to be completely accurate!

SUMMARY: When Emma Swan’s ex-boyfriend dies, she’s haunted by his ghost. Her neighbor, Killian Jones, a ghost hunter who has a YouTube channel, realizes what’s happening and offers to help. However, there’s more at stake than simply helping the apparition move on. There’s also the matter of Killian telling Emma he’s in love with her.

Rating: T (subject to change)

Words (chapter 2): 7238

Also posted to ffn and Ao3

*********

Killian didn’t see Emma for the next two days, and since she hadn’t called him, he assumed she didn’t have any more encounters with Neal Cassidy’s ghost. When he finally ran into her in the hallway, he was immediately concerned.

She looked pale and had dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn’t been getting enough sleep. It was understandable, of course. Anyone who witnessed a paranormal apparition firsthand was almost guaranteed to have trouble sleeping.

He called out a greeting to her and she nearly jumped out of her skin. “Swan, are you okay?” he asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I…I’m just tired, I guess,” she answered listlessly.

“Have you…has he been…”

“No sign of Neal,” she quickly interrupted. “And I haven’t had that feeling of being followed. But every time I try to sleep, I have nightmares that seem to go on and on. I can’t wake up, no matter how hard I try.”

He stepped closer. “What sort of nightmares? Are you able to remember them when you finally do wake up?”

She shook her head. “Not really. I just hear…whispers I guess, for lack of a better word. It’s like I’m weighed down by something and these voices are mumbling all around me. I can’t see any faces or bodies. I want to move or open my mouth to scream, but it’s like I’m…a hostage or something. I feel like I’m tied up and gagged, completely helpless.”

Killian pressed his lips into a thin line and eyed her warily. He knew what was probably going on, but he was a bit unsure of her reaction. “Emma, would you be willing to let me use my equipment to monitor your apartment at night?”

“Why? I told you I haven’t had any sense of Neal being around.”

“Spirits haunt people in a variety of ways. You experienced Cassidy actually appearing to you, then I could sense he was surrounding you with his aura,” he explained carefully. “I suspect he’s coming to you in your dreams, now. If you’ll allow me to set up my equipment in your apartment, I’d be able to determine if he’s doing that.”

She cocked her head to the side. “You mean you want to sit and watch me sleep all night? That’s a little creepy.”

“And being haunted by a ghost isn’t?” he teased, trying to lighten the mood.

She scoffed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“We wouldn’t need to be in the same room with you. We can set up the equipment and monitor it from somewhere else in your apartment, which is a better way to do it anyhow. If he is coming to you in your sleep, having us in the same room might be a deterrent.”

“Wait a minute,” she said. “What do you mean by ‘we’ and ‘us’? I thought your channel was called ‘Killian Jones: Ghost Hunter’. No one else is mentioned.”

“Ah, so you have heard of my channel,” he smirked.

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard of it, I just don’t watch it.”

“Point taken. Anyway, to answer your question, my assistant, Will Scarlett, will be there, too. We do all-nighters together. That way, the equipment can be monitored more closely…and we can keep each other awake.”

“Oh, okay,” Emma sighed. “But I wanna meet this Scarlett guy first. I’m not exactly comfortable having a complete stranger in my home, while I’m sleeping.”

“I understand. You don’t have to worry about Will, though. He’s madly in love with Belle, my technical director, although he hasn’t worked up the courage to tell her yet.” He felt slightly guilty ratting out his friend like that, when he himself couldn’t admit his feelings to the woman of his dreams, either.

“Will she be involved in this…what did you call it?”

“An all-nighter. Belle won’t be there that night. Her job is to edit and post the videos.”

“I might have to meet her, too. If you record me with severe bedhead and drool dripping all over my pillow, I’d like to have an ally who would edit it out.”

He chuckled. “No worries, Swan. We do our best not to show the people who are experiencing the hauntings, unless they give us written permission.”

“That’s a relief. When do you want to do this ‘all-nighter’?”

“I just have to make a phone call. It could be as soon as tonight, if that’s convenient for you.”

“My apartment is a bit of a mess,” she admitted. “Maybe we should do it after I’ve had a chance to clean it up.”

“Actually, in our experience, spirits are more likely to visit when the place they hang around is in its natural state. We’re not sure why, but I suspect that altering it in any way makes them uncomfortable and suspicious.”

“In that case, maybe if I keep it spotless, Neal will never come back.” She paused and thought about it for a few seconds, then rolled her eyes. “Oh, who am I kidding? There’s no way I’d be able to do that. You’ve seen my place. I’m a slob.”

“I wouldn’t say you’re a slob, Love. Your apartment simply looks…lived in,” he cheeked, a smirk on his face.

He was happy he was able to make her laugh. “Okay, Killian. If your assistant is available, let’s do it tonight.”

For a moment, he imagined her saying those exact words under very different circumstances…and without mentioning his assistant. Shaking his head slightly to dislodge those thoughts, he replied, “Sounds good. I’ll call Will and see if he’s available. When will you be home?’

“I’m just going out to buy a new coffee maker, so I should be back in about an hour. I work until ten tonight. Will that be too late?”

“Not at all. Text me when you get back, then Will and I will bring over the equipment, so we can get everything set up. Will that work?”

“Sure.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “I…I don’t know if it’s Neal causing my nightmares, but I can tell you I’m ready for them to stop. What will you do if you discover it’s because of paranormal activity?”

“We’ll try to pick up on clues to figure out why he’s still hanging around - and, if possible, his motivation and intentions. Then all of us, including you, can work together to come up with a plan for getting him to move on.”

“I would really appreciate that. It gives me the heebie-jeebies thinking he’s in my home and hovering around me while I sleep.” She shivered involuntarily at the thought.

He reached out and took hold of both of her shoulders. “It’s going to be alright, Love. We have a pretty good track record. It’s not going to happen overnight, but with a little time, I have confidence we’ll rid you of his spirit once and for all.”

She gave him a tired smile. “Thanks, Killian.” With a wave, she turned and walked toward the stairwell.

Killian watched her until she disappeared, then went into his apartment, where he pulled out his phone to call his assistant.

“What’s up, boss?” Will answered.

“I hope you don’t have any plans tonight, because we’ve got an all-nighter lined up.”

“That’s a bit last minute, don’t ya think, Mate? I could have meself a hot date.”

“No, you couldn’t.”

“What makes you so sure?” Will huffed.

“Because you would never ask anyone out besides Belle, and when it comes to her, you’re a fucking coward.”

“Says the bloke who won’t ask blondie out. Speakin’ of which, might this all-nighter be for her?”

Killian closed his eyes with a groan. He shouldn’t have goaded his friend about Belle, because now he would have to worry about Will embarrassing him in front of Emma. If he did, chances of the all-nighter happening might go down the drain, along with any chance of Emma going out with him.

“Aye, it is,” Killian admitted. “But listen Will, please don’t mention anything to her about…”

“How yer madly in love with her?”

“Will…”

“Don’t worry, boss. My lips are sealed.”

“If only that were true,” Killian muttered.

“What time should I be there tonight?”

“Actually, I need you to come over as soon as you can. Emma stepped out for about an hour, but she wants to meet you when she gets back.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re a stranger who is going to be staying in her apartment all night, so she wants to at least make your acquaintance beforehand.”

“Makes sense. Be warned though, she might take one look at me and swoon at my feet.”

“I’m willing to take my chances,” Killian deadpanned. “Just be over here as soon as you can.”

“Fine,” Will sighed theatrically. “Give me time to pack my jammies and toothbrush.”

“Don’t forget your teddy bear,” Killian chuckled. Will was a goofball, but he was a great assistant and a very good friend, and he couldn’t imagine ghost hunting without him.

*********

A little over an hour later, Killian’s phone buzzed with a text from Emma telling him she was home. He stood and nudged Will’s feet off of the coffee table. “Grab the camera and computer bags. I’ll get the rest of the equipment.”

“Blondie’s home, I take it?” Will said, pushing himself up from the couch.

Killian turned to give him a disgruntled look. “Please be respectful. She’s not really sold on this all-nighter idea and I don’t want her to change her mind.”

“I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” Will assured him, adjusting the straps of the bags on his shoulder. “I’m looking forward to meeting this lass, after everything you’ve told me about her.”

Killian led the way out of the apartment to Emma’s place next door. Will stood slightly behind him as he knocked.

“Hey,” Emma greeted, her eyes bouncing between her neighbor and his friend.

“Emma, this is my assistant, Will Scarlett. Will, Emma Swan,” Killian introduced.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Swan,” Will said, reaching around Killian to offer her his hand.

“You, too,” she replied, firmly shaking it. “Come on in.”

After she turned around, Will bumped his shoulder into Killian. When he turned around, Will cast his eyes toward Emma, then gave him an exaggerated wink. Killian shot him a quick warning look before following Emma into her apartment.

“Have a seat,” she said, gesturing toward her sofa, as she settled herself in the recliner. “So, Will, how long have you known Killian?”

“Oh, we’ve been mates since secondary school in Brighton. Ain’t that right, Kil?”

“Aye,” Killian agreed. “We’ve known each other for a dozen years or so.”

“Lost touch for a coupla years when he moved across the pond, but then he called me in desperation when he started his ghost hunting career.”

“I wasn’t desperate,” Killian corrected. “I just needed an assistant and, since you weren’t doing anything else…”

“I wasn’t doin’ nothin’,” Will protested. “I was a lorry driver.”

“Lorry?” Emma questioned.

“It’s a large truck,” Killian explained. “And Will was never a great driver.”

“Oi! I resent that remark!”

“Is that what you wanted to do for the rest of your life?” Killian challenged.

“No,” Will admitted, “but I wasn’t a bad driver, I’ll have you know.” Turning his attention back to Emma, who was listening to the exchange with an amused look on her face, he said, “Anyway, he explained his idea for a paranormal investigation channel, and since that’s somethin’ that’s always interested me, I was onboard.”

“Killian tells me you also have a technical director as part of the team.”

“Aye, that would be the lovely Belle French,” Will said, his eyes lighting up and a wide, goofy grin stretching across his face. “Killian met her at the library where he was always doing research. She doesn’t travel with us, just does the editing and posting.”

Emma exchanged a knowing look with Killian, clearly able to see and hear Will’s admiration of Belle. Glancing at the bag at Killian’s feet, she asked, “What kind of equipment will you be using tonight?”

“Will has a video camera, digital camera and two laptops,” Killian said, pointing to the bags Will had sitting beside him. “And in here, I have a digital voice recorder, infrared thermometer, spirit box, geophone, which is a vibration sensor, and the EMF detector you saw the other day.”

“All that stuff will detect ghosts?”

“And hopefully record any visual or audio anomalies,” Killian explained.

“You forgot to mention the flux response device,” Will threw in. “That allows us to ask spirits yes or no questions. If they answer yes, the green light comes on; if it’s no, it’ll be the red light. Provided they answer at all, that is.”

“Wow, the whole process seems pretty complicated,” Emma commented.

“All you have to do is fall asleep, Swan,” Killian said. “We’ll handle the rest.”

“So, uh, where do you need to set things up, then?”

Killian rubbed his finger behind his ear. “Some of the equipment will need to go in your bedroom.”

“Okay. Mi casa es su casa,” she said, standing up to lead the way to her bedroom.

As the guys figured out where to set everything up, Emma straightened her bedding and picked up a stray sock to toss it into a hamper. “So, how does this work exactly? Will you wake me up if I start having a nightmare?”

“That would defeat the purpose,” Killian replied. “If Cassidy is coming to you while you’re asleep, we want to capture that activity and hopefully be able to communicate with him. Once the sun peaks over the horizon, we’ll pack everything up and leave your apartment. It will take us a while to watch and listen to our devices and decipher all the data, but once we do, we’ll contact you to go over the results.”

“How long will that take?” Emma asked.

Killian pursed his lips in thought. “Anywhere from a few hours to a day or two, depending on how much we’re able to collect.”

“Belle helps us with all of that decipherin’ and analyzin’ stuff, too,” Will said.

“Do you, um, would I be allowed to see and hear everything?”

“Absolutely,” Killian assured her. “If you are being haunted, you have every right to know what’s going on.”

“I hate to admit it, but I’m pretty interested in what you’re doing, now that you’ve explained it.”

“Does that mean you’ll start watching my channel?” Killian cheeked.

“Depends on whether you’re successful in getting Neal to move on…if it’s actually him.”

“Ah, so no pressure then.”

Emma shrugged, a coy smile on her lips. “You said you guys were good at what you do.”

“We are, but we can’t guarantee results. Every case we’ve worked has been different,” Killian explained. “We have been able to make contact with spirits in the majority of them, but in a few others, we didn’t find any proof of paranormal activity. If we are able to establish a connection, the person being haunted has to help encourage the spirit to move on. Do you think you would be able to do that, if and when the time comes?”

She shrugged again, the smile from earlier gone. “I’d like to say I will, but I guess I won’t really know until then.”

“Fair point. Let’s just hope we get some results.”

“What happens if he doesn’t show up tonight?” she asked.

“If there’s no paranormal activity tonight, we’ll leave the equipment set up to try again another night. It may take several all-nighters to capture activity, or it may happen right away - you just never know. Plus, that way we’ll be ready if you get the feeling he’s here. In any case, we’ll keep trying until we collect something, or until you feel like he’s moved on.”

“Would you mind laying down?” Will asked. “I want to focus this in the general vicinity.” He had the video camera mounted on a tripod aimed at her bed.

Emma hesitated a moment before moving to the bed to sit down. “I still say it’s gonna be really weird trying to sleep with you guys watching me.”

“We’ll be in the living room, using the laptops to monitor what the equipment is recording. If nothing is going on, we’ll stay in there,” Killian assured her. “If we detect something, we’ll bring the flux response device in here and try to communicate with him.”

She lay down on the right side of the bed, closest to the door. “This is where I start out, but I can’t promise that’s where I’ll stay. I’ve always been a bit of a restless sleeper.”

Will fiddled with the camera while Killian set the voice recorder on the nightstand beside Emma’s bed. “We’ll turn these on when you go to bed. They have enough battery and storage to run all night.”

“Although,” Will stated, “sometimes the spirits have been known to drain batteries very quickly.”

“We’ll be able to see if that’s happening, too. The laptops have readouts from all of the equipment.”

They finished setting everything up as Emma sat on the edge of the bed watching them. Every now and then, Killian made eye contact with her, noticing her trepidation. Each time, he gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

When things were arranged to their satisfaction, Will grabbed the empty bags off the floor and they all left the bedroom.

“So, uh, I guess I’ll text you when I get home from work?” Emma asked.

“Aye. As soon as you let us know, we’ll come over,” Killian said.

“In that case, I’ll make sure I’m ready for bed before I send the text. What will you guys do until I get back?”

“We generally sleep the day away when we’ve got an all-nighter, ain’t that right, Kil?” Will said.

Killian nodded. “It doesn’t pay to be tired while we’re working, and the following day, we’re usually very excited to go through everything we collected.”

“That makes sense,” Emma said. “I’ll plan on seeing you tonight around ten-thirty, then.”

They bid her goodbye and returned to Killian’s apartment. As soon as the door was closed, Will clapped his friend on the back. “I can see why yer in love with her, Mate. She’s lovely.”

“I never said I was in love with her,” Killian corrected, moving into the living room to plop down on the couch. “I just…fancy her.”

Will scoffed. “Semantics. I saw how you was lookin’ at her.”

“Was it similar to the way you look at Belle?” Killian smirked.

“Do ya always have to bring that up?” Will grumbled.

Killian sighed. “Let’s face it. We’re both besotted fools who are too spineless to do anything about it.”

“Let’s make a pact. When this is all over with Emma’s ghost problem, we’ll both work up the courage to ask our fair ladies out.”

Killian got up and went into the kitchen, returning with two bottles of water. Handing one to Will, he said, “I need to wait and see how things turn out for Emma. If this is too traumatizing for her, I’m not going to complicate things further by asking her out. That doesn’t mean you can’t date Belle, though. I think you two would be great together.”

Will unscrewed the cap and took a quick drink. “I’ll think about it. Now, let’s order some pizza so we can eat and then get some sleep.”

*********

Killian could tell Emma was nervous when she answered the door that evening, clad in a tank top and shorts, her hair up in a loose bun.

“Sorry it took me so long to text you,” she apologized. “It was really busy at work tonight, so I wanted to take a quick shower.”

“No problem, Swan. We’re not in a hurry and we want you to be relaxed.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible, knowing that I might have a starring role in the next ‘Poltergeist’ movie.”

Killian moved closer to squeeze her hand. “What do you usually do to unwind when you get home from work?”

“Watch an episode or two of a show. Sometimes I have a cup of hot chocolate.”

“Doesn’t that have caffeine in it?” Will asked.

“Yeah, but I find that it relaxes me before I go to bed.”

“Just go about your routine and try to forget about us being here,” Killian advised.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, like I would be able to do that.” She rubbed the back of her neck with both hands, rolling her head from side to side.

“Would a massage help?” Killian asked.

“That would actually be really nice,” she affirmed.

Killian stepped behind her and began to massage her shoulders. Dropping her head forward, she groaned, “God, that feels good. Can you keep doing that for about an hour?”

Inhaling her fresh scent and feeling her skin under his hands was making him struggle internally. Her skin was so soft, he just wanted to lean down and kiss her lovely neck. Instead, he cleared his throat and chuckled. “I’d be happy to, Love.” He glanced up and frowned at Will, who was giving him a shit-eating grin.

After a few more minutes of kneading Emma’s back and shoulders, he felt her begin to relax. “Do you want Will to make the hot chocolate for you?” he asked.

“No, thanks. I don’t make it from those packets. I do it the old-fashioned way with milk, cocoa and sugar, topped with whipped cream and cinnamon.”

“What makes you think I don’t know how to make it like that?” Will asked, sounding offended.

“Do you?” Emma asked.

“No,” he admitted, “but that don’t mean I can’t try.”

“I’ve seen his attempts at cooking,” Killian said. “I’d keep him away from your kitchen if I were you.”

“It’s always ‘pick on Will day’, innit?” he groused.

Emma laughed. “Do you guys want a cup, too?”

“Yes, please,” Killian said. “How about you, Scarlett?”

“No, thanks. I brought a coupla bottles of Mountain Dew with me.”

Twenty minutes later, they were sitting in the living room, sipping their beverages and watching a show of Emma’s choosing. Halfway through the second episode, Killian looked over to see her dozing off in the recliner.

“Swan,” he said quietly.

“Hmm?”

“I think it’s time you went to bed.” He stood up and took the empty cocoa mug from her lax hand.

She looked up at him, blinking slowly. “Yeah,” she yawned. “I guess it is.”

“G’night, Emma,” Will called as she began stumbling toward her bedroom.

“Night, Will. Good luck with your ghost hunting,” she said, pulling the band from her hair to let it fall loosely down her back.

Killian handed Will the mug, asking him to put it in the kitchen sink, then followed Emma into her bedroom. She settled under the covers as he switched on all of the equipment. When he was finished, he couldn’t resist pulling the sheet up over her bare shoulder. “Sweet dreams, Emma.”

“I thought the purpose of this was for me to have a nightmare,” she murmured, her eyes already closed.

He gently brushed some strands of hair away from her face. “I would be much happier if you never had another one.”

Her lips turned up in a small smile. “Thanks, Killian. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Love.”

Will had the laptops set up by the time Killian got back out to the living room. He picked one up and took it with him to the recliner Emma had vacated, while Will hunched over the other one on the coffee table.

Two hours of silence passed before they saw the temperature begin to drop on the thermometer readout. They both sat up straighter, eyes scanning the data from the other equipment. The grainy image from the video recorder showed Emma making small, jerky movements. As they watched and listened, their instruments indicated paranormal activity going on in her bedroom.

After another ten minutes, they met each other’s eyes across the dimly lit room. “This is a fucking goldmine,” Will commented.

Killian nodded grimly. He hadn’t taken into consideration how much it would affect him to see Emma in the throes of a nightmare. As he sat in this room, watching her thrash about and listening to her whimpers through the video camera, all he wanted to do was go to her, take her in his arms and comfort her.

Grabbing the flux response device, he told Will, “I’m going to go see if I can get him to answer any questions.”

Will continued to watch his laptop screen intently, his mind nearly blown at everything he saw and heard. This was definitely one of the most successful all-nighters they had ever conducted.

*********

By the time Emma awoke the next morning, she felt like she had been in a boxing match all night, and noticed the guys and all of their equipment were gone. She assumed it meant they had documented paranormal activity, which was confirmed when she found a note on her coffee table from Killian telling her that they were able to gather some good information, and that he would be in touch with her later that day.

As she sat at her kitchen table drinking a large mug of coffee, she was a bit surprised when her phone lit up with a call from Ruby. Her friend usually didn’t contact her until her workday was over at the police station, and it was almost always via text.

“Hey, Ruby. What’s up?” Emma asked, her voice sounding exhausted, even to her own ears.

“I’ve got news I thought you’d be interested in hearing.”

“Has another ex of mine been arrested?”

Ruby ignored the question. “They began an investigation into Neal’s death because during the autopsy, they discovered marks around his throat that weren’t made by the bedsheet.”

Emma sat up straighter in her chair. “What kind of marks?”

“Handprints.”

Emma gasped. “They think someone killed him?”

“It’s been ruled a homicide. They suspect the crime lords he was selling drugs for may be involved somehow. Probably wanted to shut him up before he started blabbing about them in jail.”

“Oh, wow. I tried to tell him he was an idiot for being in cahoots with those people. He was convinced he would work his way up the ladder in the organization to be one of the top guys. I knew nothing good would come of it.”

“You were smart to break it off with him. Otherwise, they might have come after you.”

A chill ran down Emma’s spine. “You don’t think they will, do you?”

“Nah, it had been over a year since you guys were together when he was arrested. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Nothing to worry about, except that the ghost of my dead ex is haunting me, Emma thought. “Thanks for the info, Ruby. If you find out anything else, please let me know.”

“Will do. I better get back to work. My break is almost over. Talk to you later.”

They ended the call and Emma sat looking at her phone. Was Neal’s unfinished business proving that he was killed? If so, why was he hanging around her instead of somebody who could actually do something about it?

She yawned widely, wondering again what Killian and Will were able to capture.

*********

As soon as they got back to Killian’s apartment, he and Will went into his office and began going through the audio and video recordings, along with other data they collected. Will uploaded the photos taken at regular increments in Emma’s bedroom so they could study them more closely on the larger computer screen.

Belle arrived mid-morning to help. They listened to the white noise collected by the spirit box, trying to decipher voices or words that may have been recorded.

“There’s so much information here,” she commented. “This apparition is clearly trying to communicate with…what’s her name again?”

“Emma Swan,” Killian answered quickly.

“How long have you been neighbors?”

“Five years or so.” He could feel the redness creeping up his neck and into his face, as Belle scrutinized him.

“And this is the woman you’ve um, how did Will put it? Been crushing on for years?”

“She’s just a friend,” Killian said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Pfft,” Will scoffed. Killian glared at him.

“Sounds like you hope to be much more than friends, Killian,” Belle commented.

He rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to meet her eyes. “Can we just get back to business, please? I would like to share our findings with Emma today, if possible.”

Belle studied him for a few moments, a smug smile on her face, but she let the matter drop.

They continued analyzing the data, replaying the recordings over and over as they discussed what they heard and saw.

“Did you get any useful information from the flux?” Belle asked.

Killian shook his head. “I only got one response, and that was to my first question - are you Neal Cassidy? The answer was ‘yes’.”

“Well, at least you got confirmation of that,” Belle commented. “It’s better than nothing.”

His phone buzzed on the table and he picked it up to see a text notification from Emma.

E: I know I’m supposed to wait for your call, but I’m a bit anxious. Are you awake? I’m really curious about what went on last night.

Killian glanced up from his screen to see Will and Belle looking at him. “She wants to know what we found.”

“We can share what we’ve deciphered so far,” Will said. “I don’t think I can stay awake to do much more. I’m knackered.”

“Agreed,” Killian said, tapping on his phone to respond to Emma.

Within five minutes, there was a knock on his door and he left the room to answer it. Emma stood on the other side, her lower lip pulled between her teeth, clearly on edge.

Without stopping to think, Killian reached out to take her hand, pulling her to him. To his surprise and relief, she went into his arms willingly, where she fit against him perfectly.

“Are you alright, Love?” he murmured into her hair.

“Did you find any reason for me not to be?”

He hesitated a moment, unsure quite how to tell her. “He…Neal…it seems he is coming to you at night, invading your dreams.”

She pulled back and looked at him. Seeing the utter helplessness and shock on her face, his heart sank. “How am I ever gonna be rid of him?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Tucking her back against his chest, he said, “We’ll figure it out. I won’t give up until we do.”

“Hey, boss. Me and Belle just found…oh, sorry!” Will’s voice came from behind them, causing them to pull away from each other.

Before turning to look at his friend, he studied Emma for a few more seconds. The look on her face was one of weariness and fright, and he knew he would do whatever it took to make that look disappear for good.

Not caring that he would probably get a good ribbing about it later from Will, Killian leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to Emma’s forehead. “Are you sure you’re up to seeing and hearing what we collected last night?” he whispered.

“Is it going to traumatize me?” she asked, trepidation clear in her tone.

He brushed a wisp of hair behind her ear. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it, Love - it’s not going to be easy. But if we can figure out Neal’s unfinished business, we have a good chance of getting him to move on. Since you knew him well and we didn’t, your input could be invaluable in making that happen.”

“I know,” she sighed. Then, lifting her chin, a determined look came over her face and she set her jaw. “I can do it.”

“That’s my tough lass,” Killian said, hoping she took it as a compliment and didn’t question the sentiment behind it.

He stepped out of the doorway, allowing her to pass by him into the apartment. With his hand on the small of her back, he guided her to the office, Will following behind.

When they entered the room, Belle swiveled in her seat and stood with a smile on her face. “You must be Emma,” she said, her hand outstretched in greeting. “I’m Belle, the technical director.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Belle,” Emma replied, shaking her offered hand. “Killian and Will have told me a lot about you.”

“All good, I hope.”

“O’ course,” Will said. “There’s nothin’ bad to say about ya.”

Emma and Killian shared an amused look, as Belle resumed her seat.

Will sat in the chair beside Belle, while Killian rolled the last one over for Emma, then stood behind her. “Bring up the photos first, please.”

Belle hit some keys on the computer keyboard and they all focused on the oversized monitor. A gallery of pictures popped up and with a click of the mouse, Belle selected one which filled the screen.

“You remember how we covered the mirror on the back of your door and everything else that would reflect light?” Killian asked. Emma nodded, and he continued, “We wanted to be able to debunk any light anomalies that could have been caused by reflections. The door was closed and your bedroom was completely dark, yet you can see these orbs of light in several photos.”

He leaned over Emma’s shoulder to point out the bright spots on the screen, as Belle brought up one picture after another. “We can also rule out dust specks because these aren’t consistent with the characteristics of dust…”

“And there isn’t any dust in my super clean apartment,” Emma remarked, tongue-in-cheek.

“Right. That, too,” Killian grinned.

“So, what do these…anemones mean?”

“Anomalies, Swan,” Killian corrected automatically. “They usually signify paranormal activity. We went through the pictures carefully and have counted at least five different light anomalies, which is the most we’ve seen in one space during a single night of investigation.”

“Wow. Does that mean I’ll get into the paranormal record books?”

The three investigators laughed. Belle minimized the gallery of photos and hit a few more keys. “This is from the video camera,” she explained, hovering the cursor over the little dot on the left side of the screen. “I’m going to fast forward quite a ways because nothing happened for the first two hours of the session.”

She slowly dragged the cursor several inches to the right, stopping when the time read an hour and fifty-seven minutes. Emma strained to see anything in the grainy image and was finally able to discern the outline of her sleeping form in the bed.

As she continued to watch, one corner of the screen began to lighten slightly. Will pointed to the spot. “See that there? Keep watchin’.”

The mist drifted down toward where Emma lay and seemed to settle beside her.

Emma leaned in closer, then sat back with a gasp. “Is that…?”

“It appears we captured an apparition,” Killian confirmed.

It was a strange sensation to watch herself beginning to react on screen, and Killian’s reassuring hand on her shoulder was very welcome as she felt herself filling with tension.

“This is where it seems your nightmare begins,” Belle remarked softly.

“Do you remember anything about it?” Killian asked.

Emma slowly shook her head. “Not really. Just that feeling of being held down and unable to move or speak.”

“Did you hear the voices again?”

“I heard those whispers, but I couldn’t tell what they were saying.”

They watched for several minutes, uncomfortably observing Emma’s jerky movements in the video. Then they saw the bedroom door open and Killian enter the room. He dropped to his knees beside the bed and placed the flux response device on the nightstand. After he turned it on, they heard him ask, “Are you Neal Cassidy?” and saw the green light illuminate.

Emma whipped around to look at Killian. “He gave you confirmation?”

“Aye, but he didn’t answer any of my other questions.”

Belle let the video run for a few more minutes, allowing them to hear more of Killian’s questions such as, “Do you know you’re dead?” and “Do you know how you died?”

“We haven’t had a chance to watch the entire video,” Belle explained, “but the guys noted the times when there was more activity.” After checking the paper in front of her, she moved the video forward to the 3:25 mark. Killian was no longer in the bedroom, but Emma still appeared to be having a restless sleep. The translucent figure beside her began to drift until it was a few feet away from the camera, where it appeared to stretch a limb toward it.

“We were wonderin’ if he was tryin’ to turn off the camera,” Will said. “Like he didn’t want us recordin’ him or somethin’.”

“Why can’t we see him clearly like I could when he was outside the coffee shop?” Emma asked, as she continued to watch the video.

“That’s a good question,” Killian responded. “We really don’t know why spirits are recognizable at times, and other times, they have no form at all.”

“You can see the apparition settle back down beside you…now,” Belle said, stopping the video at that spot. “It doesn’t move until…” consulting the paper again, she moved ahead to just past the five hour mark, “right here. Now, watch it disappear.” She clicked on the play arrow to show the spirit move up toward the ceiling. Then it was gone.

“Maybe he went through to the fourth floor and he’s their problem now,” Emma said bitterly.

“I wish it was that easy,” Killian replied.

Belle switched off the monitor in front of her. “We got some audio recordings on the spirit box and voice recorder. We can listen to those next.”

Will placed the voice recorder in front of Emma. “So far, we only listened to a section of this corresponding to the appearance of the apparition.” He turned it on and sat back in his chair. At first, all they could hear was complete silence. It was broken by a whooshing sound, followed by the soft, unnerving sounds of Emma letting out little whimpers.

“What was that noise?” she asked.

“We assume that was his ghost coming into the room,” Killian said.

“That’s the sound ghosts make?”

“We’ve heard lotsa different noises through the voice recorder,” Will said. “Bangs, crashes, whooshes, clinks, clanks, moans, groans…”

“I think she has the idea,” Killian cut in.

“The data gathered from the EMF detector, geophone and infrared thermometer verified the fact that paranormal activity was present in your bedroom,” Belle said.

“Oh, yay,” Emma said sarcastically, spinning her index finger in the air in a mock celebration.

Killian chuckled as he scooted the spirit box closer and plugged it into the computer. “After using the flux and getting just that one response, I turned off the voice recorder and replaced it with this. The nice thing about this new device is, it records the sounds. The old one we had didn’t, so we had to rely on the video recording to hear it. We’ve spent quite a bit of time listening to several sections of this, trying to decipher them. Perhaps you can help us, Swan.”

“I can try,” she said, leaning forward in her chair. “What am I listening for?”

“When I switch it on, you’re going to hear ‘white noise’ and the readout on the computer will look something like a Richter Scale graph. When there’s an unexplained sound and a spike on the graph, it’s possible the apparition is trying to speak. That happens several times in the section we’re about to listen to, but we have differing ideas of what’s being said. We’re hoping you can figure it out.”

“Okay. Ready when you are.”

He switched on the box and instantly, loud static filled the room. Emma flinched at the sudden noise and once again felt Killian’s steadying hand on her shoulder. With his other hand, he pointed to the readout on the laptop screen. “Watch for the spike. We’ll run it back as many times as you need.”

She watched and listened intently. About a minute in, there was a change in the graph as they heard a guttural sound. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Can you run it back?”

Belle rewound it a few seconds. When the sound came through again, Emma whispered, “Ems.”

Killian reached forward and hit pause himself. “What did you say, Love?”

“Ems,” she murmured again. “Neal always called me Ems. At first, I thought it was a cute nickname, but it annoyed me after a while because he overused it.”

“Play it back again, please,” Killian told Belle.

She did as he asked, all of them leaning forward involuntarily. After they heard the word again, she stopped it. “I think she’s right.”

“What did you guys think it said?” Emma asked.

“It’s so quick, I didn’t even have a guess,” Killian said.

“I thought it sounded like he was clearing his throat or something,” Belle added.

“I thought he belched,” Will grinned.

“Because ghosts obviously build up gas and have to let it out somehow,” Killian said, rolling his eyes. Then he turned his attention to Emma, who had paled considerably. “Swan, are you okay?”

“I, uh…could I get a drink of water, please?” she asked, her voice tremulous.

Will jumped to his feet. “I’ll get it.”

Killian swiveled her chair and knelt down in front of her. “Is this too much for you, Emma? We can stop, if it is.”

“It’s just…hearing his voice and knowing he’s…dead is pretty freaky. Seeing him was a horrible experience, but hearing him…”

Will came back with a bottle of water and handed it to her. She thanked him and took a long drink.

“That’s enough for today,” Killian said, standing up.

“No,” she protested. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a shock, you know?”

“Of course it is,” he agreed, “but if you’re sure, we’ll keep going.”

She nodded and turned her chair to face the desk again.

“Ready?” Belle asked.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Belle hit play and the room filled with the pulsating white noise again. This time when there was a vocalization, she had to rewind it four times before Emma said, “I think he’s saying ‘mine’.”

“That was our guess,” Killian said.

“That gives me chills,” Belle said, with a little shiver. Will stepped behind her to put his hands on her shoulders and she looked up at him appreciatively.

“There were a few other places where we heard his voice,” Killian explained, giving Belle a nod to start the recording again.

It took them nearly fifteen minutes to decipher the last phrase. They finally came to a consensus that the first two words were ‘taking’ and ‘you’, but the final utterance stymied them, until Emma suddenly slumped in her chair. “I think I know what it is. He…he’s saying ‘taking you…with me’.”

Belle put her hand over her mouth, eyes wide, while a grim-faced Killian rubbed his hands up and down Emma’s biceps in an attempt to soothe her. Will said bluntly what they were all thinking. “The bloody bastard thinks you’re his and wants to drag you to hell with him?”

*********

Thank you all very much for reading!

Tagging:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4 @hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda

@pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426

@julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling @andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones

@zaharadessert @lyssapup27 @undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat @teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90 @apiratewhopines

@hollyethecurious @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @caught-in-the-filter @stahlop @veryverynotgoodwrites @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @whimsicallyenchantedrose @earanemith @superchocovian @idristardis @captainswan-kellie @beckettj @cssns

#cssns24 #ghosted #chapter 2 #jrob64 #art by krystal #captain swan supernatural summer #csff #paranormal investigators #youtube #cs modern au #neighbors to lovers

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 6 months ago

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Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 11: The Yuletide Challenge (1/3)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t! One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia. A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns. So here you go! Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Word Count: 1643

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

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Today’s story is an AU based on this prompt from @kmomof4: Character A vows to do something nice for a stranger during the Christmas time. Character B is that stranger. It was written in 2017.

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Emma took a deep breath, smoothed down her tight red dress, and stepped through the doors of The Rabbit Hole, the premiere bar in the tiny town of Storybrooke, Maine, and scanned the interior for some poor, sad soul who looked in need of Christmas cheer. She rolled her eyes. How the hell had she let Mary Margaret talk her into this?

It all started the week before, when Emma had gone to her adoptive brother David’s and her sister-in-law Mary Margaret’s loft apartment for Thanksgiving dinner. Emma had never been a big holiday person. Growing up in the system, being in and out of group homes, she’d never really had a family to spend the special days with, at least until David’s mom, Ruth had taken her in just before her fifteenth birthday. By that point, Emma was used to being a loner, and she preferred it that way. If you don’t let people in, they can’t hurt you, right? Most Thanksgivings and Christmases, even now that she was an adult with a brother and sister-in-law she loved, were spent alone, take-out and Netflix her big holiday companions.

But after a bad break up with her longtime boyfriend, (what had she ever seen in Walsh, that idiotic flying monkey!) Emma had decided it was time for a change. She’d packed up her swanky New York apartment and relocated to Storybrooke where there was a job as her brother, the sheriff’s, deputy was waiting for her. And with Emma living in the same town during the holidays, Mary Margaret simply would not take no as an answer to her invitation to have Thanksgiving dinner with the family.

Emma had to admit dinner with the family had been nice. There was something so damn heartwarming about sharing a holiday with the ones she loved.

It was only after the feast had been consumed, the dishes had been washed, and the post-meal nap had been taken that things took a rather unfortunate turn.

Mary Margaret got awkwardly to her feet (it was one of the drawbacks of being nearly 7 months pregnant, after all) and clinked her water glass to get everyone’s attention.

“So David and I have been thinking,” she’d said. “We thought it would be a good idea to start a new family tradition during the holiday season.”

Emma was immediately on alert. When her sister in law had that look in her eyes it always spelled trouble. “Um…okay? Just what kind of tradition are we talking about?”

“The Yuletide challenge!” Mary Margaret said excitedly.

“I have a feeling I’m going to regret asking this,” Emma said, “but what exactly is a Yuletide challenge?”

“I saw an article about it in the holiday edition of my favorite magazine, Storybrooke Today,” Mary Margaret said. “Basically, the idea is to spread Christmas cheer to the people who need it most.”

Emma crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, I don’t really do the whole ‘Christmas cheer’ thing.”

“Oh come on, Emma!” Mary Margaret insisted. “Christmas is the season of giving! At least listen to the whole idea before rejecting it. I promise this challenge will make us all feel warm and fuzzy inside.”

The puppy dog eyes. Her sister in law was giving her the puppy dog eyes. She wasn’t playing fair. Not at all.

“It actually sounds like a pretty interesting idea, Emma,” David said, backing up his wife after she tossed him a pointed look.

Emma sighed. “Fine. What exactly are the rules of this whole Yuletide challenge thing?”

Mary Margaret’s smile could light up the sun. “Each of us will find a person in town—someone we don’t know, or at least don’t know well—who seems down on their luck, or sad, or just in general in need of cheer. We make it our mission to do little acts of kindness for that person throughout the season. You’ve got to do at least one good thing for them per week, and once you’ve picked your person, there’s no going back! That’s your person for the season. Could be by Christmas time we’ll each have a brand new friend!”

Emma wasn’t a people person. She didn’t do random acts of kindness for strangers. She kept to herself and let them keep to themselves. Life was just better that way. Still…Mary Margaret was really excited about this idea. What could it hurt to spread a little kindness during the busiest, most hectic time of year?

“Alright,” Emma said on another sigh. “Count me in. I’ll take the Yuletide challenge.”

And that’s how Emma found herself in a bar, dressed to impress, looking for someone who looked sad and down on his luck. It was nearing the end of the first week of December, and she’d yet to find her victim…er giftee. She had to find someone fast before she forfeited the challenge before even beginning.

Emma saw him right away, as though a magnet had drawn her eyes to him. He was handsome (hot as hell, really), with his soft black hair, mesmerizing blue eyes, dusting of scruff, jeans and black leather jacket. But it wasn’t his looks that immediately drew Emma to him. It was the dejected, almost despairing look on his face as he nursed his glass of rum at his lonely table at the back of the establishment. If anyone needed a little Christmas cheer, it was this guy.

Squaring her shoulders, Emma walked purposefully to his table. He looked up at the sound of her stiletto heels moving across the floor, his eyes showing surprise and appreciation as he took in the sight of her.

“This seat taken?” she asked, reaching for the chair across from him.

He waved with his right hand. “Be my guest, love.”

The smooth, British accent, combined with his far above average looks did things to her insides. Emma turned away, taking the chair. Get it together, Swan! You’re not some teenager who gets crushes on hot strangers!

“So, my name’s Emma Swan,” she said. “And who might you be?”

“Killian Jones,” he answered, “but people have taken to calling me by my more colorful moniker. Hook.”

The man raised his left arm, and Emma noticed the nautical hook which sat in place of a hand. Well that wasn’t weird or anything. “Um…why do you have a hook instead of a hand?”

Smooth Emma. Really smooth. Nothing like starting out the Yuletide challenge with a major faux pas.

One dark eyebrow rose and a half smile draped his lips. “I’ve always been fascinated with Captain Hook, so after I lost the hand, my Halloween costume was rather obvious. The hook has proven so bloody useful, I simply chose to keep it.”

“Oh, well…sorry about your hand.”

A shadow passed over his face. “Aye, well, it’s been five years, almost to the day since the accident.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then drained his glass in one gulp, hastily pouring himself another.

If Emma didn’t miss her guess, and she rarely did, an ability to read people was one of the things that made her one of the best bail bonds persons New York had ever seen, there was more to the story, than simply the loss of a hand. The poor guy was in misery even alluding to the event.

Nice job, Emma. Instead of spreading Christmas cheer, you’ve managed to make this guy relive his worst memory.

“Killian….I’m sorry…”

He waved her off. “It’s no matter, Swan. Seems it’s a night for melancholy musings, but I survived. Now, I’d rather discuss something pleasanter if you don’t mind. What exactly brought such a beautiful woman to my table on this cold winter’s night?”

Emma took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “So I was wondering if you’d help me with something.”

His eyebrow rose in question.

“Let me buy your next round,” she said, “and then, well, maybe I could do some nice things for you.”

His expression changed in an instant. Surprise and melancholy replaced with pure lasciviousness. “That’s quite the offer, darling. It’s not every day a gorgeous woman offers herself as my Christmas gift.”

Emma felt her face flame. “Oh my gods! I wasn’t propositioning you, Killian!” (Though…if he kept looking at her like that…well, there was no telling what might come of this night.)

He sighed dramatically. “My profound loss. So, Swan, if you weren’t asking me for what, I assure you would be a very, very pleasant roll in the sheets, what precisely were you offering?”

“You see, my sister-in-law, Mary Margaret, had this idea for the holiday season….” And with that she laid out the whole sappy challenge for him. “And, I don’t know. You just look like you could use a friend. So what do you say?”

Killian took a long sip of his rum, and Emma tried her best not to watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, not to follow the line down to his firm chest where luscious, abundant chest hair peeked out from beneath a partially buttoned shirt. “Oh I don’t know, Swan. I rather think spending a night together in my bed would count as a kindness.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, not happening. We’re talking warm, fuzzy, purely platonic acts of kindness.”

He sighed dramatically, and she grinned in spite of herself. He was such an idiot. But…he was an adorable idiot, and she couldn’t help but sense she’d enjoy the time she’d inevitably spend with him, should he accept her offer.

A soft, almost shy smile replaced the teasing on his face. “Very well, Emma. I will be the recipient of your challenge.”

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NEXT CHAPTER->

#cs fanfiction #cs christmas reruns 2024 #my fanfiction #the yuletide challenge

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donteattheappleshook · 2 years ago

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Dare I say forever...

Part 3 of Lover of the Light (AKA Wish Baby)

Summary:

He’d turned the tavern upside down trying to find her, had scoured the streets for any sign of her golden hair, of the eyes he’d only just been gazing into. But she was nowhere, and the panic started to settle. No. No, it has to have worked. That was why they found the bloody star in the first place - light magic, no tricks, a wish that would send them both home. But she’s not with him.

The reunion of WishEmma and SilverWishHook after the events of Lover of the Light and Ghosts that we Knew. Also affectionately (and agressively) nicknamed Wish Baby

Rated E

Catch up on Ao3 (where my italics work) or on Tumblr: 1 2

HAPPY SUPER BELATED BIRTHDAY @the-darkdragonfly 🎁🎉🎂🎈

This fic is suuuuuuper late but that’s because (as you know) it turned into a 34k word monster that had to be turned into two parts/chapters. You’re the loveliest person ever and I hope you like this conclusion you’ve been demanding for two years! 😘

Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you @elizabeethan for betaing this fic that is way longer than it was supposed to be when you agreed to read it! 🙏🙏

And thank you @kmomof4 for being a second set of eyes when I decided to write this story out of order! 💕

********

Part Three

“You’re too bloody old for this,” Killian grunts, shoving at a handful of bloody roses - because of course it had to be roses - and their bloody thorns, reaching for another gap in the criss-crossing wood that creaks under his weight. He’s too old to be climbing trellises in the middle of night to sneak into a lass’s bedroom - especially a bedroom in a bloody castle.

He heaves himself up another step, hook getting caught in the tangles and he struggles to free it without falling on his arse. His arms hurt. His legs hurt. His back. His breathing is so loud that he worries they’ll hear him across the garden where two guards are supposed to be stopping people like him from breaking in and whisking away princesses. He should tell Emma to fire them.

A thorn catches his palm and he curses, sweat beading on his temples as he covets the strength he had as a younger man, the energy. He needs it now. He needs to find her. One moment he’d been holding her hand in that tavern, the light blinding as he tried to keep his eyes on her face for as long as possible, and the next, she was gone. The Emma who’d come here had disappeared, but this Emma, his Emma, he still doesn’t know where she is.

No. No, it has to have worked. That was why they found the bloody star in the first place - light magic, no tricks, a wish that would send them both home. And then a new panic had set in. Home. If she’d been sent home, back to the castle where the other Emma had just used magic in front of her mother…

And so here he is, climbing the trellis beneath her window like a suitor in a storybook, only older, and wearier, and sweatier. But he embraces the exhaustion, the burn of his limbs, because it keeps the worst of his fears at bay. What if she’s just gone? What if she was never sent to another land? What if he can’t bring her back. What if she’s lost to him forever?

He doesn’t want to think of what that would mean, of what it might do to him to have her ripped away like this. He fears who he might become without her, who he was when he met her, the emptiness that had consumed him, that she had filled. She’d changed him.

He reaches the window, grunting embarrassingly - though there’s no one around to hear it - as heaves himself over the edge of her balcony. It’s dark, the blinds are closed and he can’t hear anything inside. He calls her name, tries the door when she doesn’t answer. It’s locked. Why the hell is her bloody balcony door locked, he groans. Probably to keep people from climbing up the trellis into her room.

Slipping his hook into the keyhole he curses when it takes him longer than he’d like to pick the lock. He’s out of practice at breaking and entering. When it finally unlatches the door creaks open under his hand and he winces, everything feeling too loud.

“Swan? Emma, love, are you there?” He tries to ignore the stirring dread when he receives no answer, searching in the dark. He’s never been here before, their meetings always in the tavern or on his ship. The room smells like her, her scent clinging to the walls, haunting the space as it does his cabin every time she has to leave. He calls her name again, checking the bed, searching the sitting room attached. Her chambers are bigger than his whole bloody ship.

She has to be somewhere. He’ll search the whole bloody castle if he has to. Unfortunately his fear makes him impulsive; his desperation makes short-sighted; and his lack of practice makes an idiot. Because when he opens the door to the hall, prepared to go storming off looking for her, he forgets to listen, forgets to be silent, or armed, and he comes face to face with two guards - or face to back.

Bollocks. He tries to back away slowly, but it’s too late, the guards turning, their swords drawn as swiftly as his own. So much for sneaking about the palace unnoticed - he’ll have to find her quickly. He disarms the first two easily - not killing them, he knows Emma is close to some of the guards and he doesn’t think she’d appreciate him doing away with her household staff - but one of them shouts and more come running. Five, who he manages to take down, then ten, harder this time, a few still standing when more come, and soon it seems the whole bloody army is in her bedroom.

“Get your bloody hands off of me,” he spits as four hold him down, force him to his knees, disarmed, bloody and bruised. A new guard walks in, older than the rest, a commander more than a fighter now he imagines.

“We found him breaking in, Lord Humbert. It looks like he came up through the balcony.”

“Tell whoever’s stationed outside to report to my quarters,” the man says in an accent close to Killian’s own. “The bloody idiots can explain how they let someone get into the princess's room.” Killian likes this one, the name familiar. He just can’t place it.

“Care to tell me what you’re doing here?” Humbert asks.

“I would,” Killian snarks. “But I’m in a bit of a rush, actually. I have people expecting me. You know how it is.”

The guard actually looks half amused, glancing at his clothes and at his hook. “Aye, well, I don’t think you’ll be seeing anyone anytime soon. The punishment for attempted kidnapping is death, Captain.”

Killian gives him his most charming, sarcastic smile. “Well it’s always nice to be recognized.”

“Your title won’t do you much good when you’re facing the gallows, I’m afraid. Take him away.”

“Wait!” he says through gritted teeth before the guard can turn away. “I wasn’t trying to kidnap her, I was trying to bloody warn her.”

He stops, frowns. “About what?” Killian sets his jaw. He can’t tell this man anything without revealing Emma’s magic, possibly putting her in even more danger. Humbert waves his hand and he’s being dragged to his feet as the man walks away, a wolf on the back of his armor. “You’re Graham - the one who saved her mother.”

Graham stops, turns back, raising a hand again and the soldiers holding him relax their grip only slightly. “How do you know that?”

“Emma told me. She also told me that you taught her to track when she was little. Her governess got angry because she would come back covered in mud and leaves.”

“Emma told you?” Graham asks, frowning deeply, stepping closer.

“Aye, she cares for you - said you were like a second father to her. Which is why I’m sorry about this.” The man hardly has a moment to register his words before Killian pulls a sword from one of the guards’ belts, hitting Humbert in the face with the hilt and knocking him out cold. The other guards are caught off guard, Killian making quick work of them. “Sorry,” he says to them before taking off down the hall - Emma’s made him soft-hearted. “True love and all.”

***

Emma nearly falls into the water. One moment she’d been sitting with Killian in the room that belonged to another version of her, and the next she was stumbling across the deck of a ship. She blinks, looking around at where she is, recognizing the Jolly, the open sea around her. She touches the fabric of her clothes, the riding pants and vest. Hers. She’s back. They must have done it - her Killian and his Emma. Running below deck, she throws open the door to his cabin.

“Killian?” she calls. But there’s no answer. The ship is silent, empty, eerily so. She searches the bosun’s room he’d spent so many nights in, the galley, the hold, the deck. He’s not here. Why isn’t he here? She makes her way to the railing, looking out at the docks. This isn’t the port near Misthaven. “Where are you?”

She lets her magic flow through her, humming under her skin, extending beyond her but not far, holding tight to it. Killian, where are you? Emma lets it pull her to the edge of the ship, looking out into the dark water below, her reflection visible in the bright moonlight, the waves rippling through it before the image shifts and she nearly gasps.

Mirror magic. She hadn’t meant to use it but she can see him coming through beneath her reflection, as though it were floating to the surface. The tavern. Misthaven. She doesn’t know what his ship is doing here, why he’s not on it, but she’s going to find him. Emma raises the main sail and makes her way back to the helm, looking up at the stars, the constellations he taught her. She points the ship east, back to him. She’ll find him. She’ll find him and she’ll tell him everything.

He hadn’t been at the tavern when she arrived a little over an hour later. The barkeep had seemed confused when she’d asked if he’d seen Killian. “He was ‘ere earlier - with you. Ran outta ‘ere like a bat outta hell. Assumed you wen’ with ‘im.”

“Do you know where he went?”

The man shook his head. “Maybe ‘e’s lookin’ for you too.”

“Damn.” If he did, then he’s at the palace, and she needs to find him before anyone else does. She takes the barman’s horse back to the castle, hopping off and sneaking around back to the servants quarters to avoid being seen. She needs to sneak in, find Killian, and sneak him out before anyone even knows she’s there.

The door to the kitchen is unlatched, the cook notorious for leaving it ajar, livestock often making their way into the pantry searching for snacks. She’s relieved to find it empty, creeping through the room to the staircase that leads to the great hall. If she has to search floor by floor, she will.

She decides it’s her best bet, starting up the winding staircase. She can hear the sounds of guards above her, worried they’ve already found him, and she picks up her pace, taking the steps two at a time. She barely hears the footsteps, barely hears the sharp sound of metal being unsheathed before she nearly crashes into him.

Someone catches her just in time to avoid her plummet back down a hundred or more steps, and when she looks up to see her savior, she can’t believe it. “Emma?”

“Killian!” she throws herself in his arms, holding him tightly and he freezes. But then she’s pressing her lips to his and his arms wrap around her, drawing her closer, letting her push him back against the wall as she kisses him like she thought she’d never see him again. He’s here. He’s safe.

“Is it really you?” he asks, pulling away enough to brush his thumb over her cheek. Emma nods furiously, beaming and crying all at once. “Yeah, it’s really me.”

“Where did you go? Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. It’s a long story, but, Killian, we have to go. If they find you here -”

He nods, solemnly. “I know. Come on.”

She takes his hand, and he just looks at her, that air of disbelief still in his eyes. Then he looks at her hand and she knows he’s thinking the same as her. She thought she’d lost him, and she doesn’t resist as he pulls her back to him, kissing her one more time, just because it won’t be the last.

A clamour comes from upstairs, footprints and armor and blades and Killian breaks away, drawing his own sword. “This way!” she hisses, leading him down, but she freezes, footsteps coming from below as well and she turns wide, frantic eyes on him.

“It’ll be alright, love.” She doesn’t know if she believes him this time…

“Unhand her!” a voice shouts from above them.

They both whirl around, each with a protective arm thrown out across other, leaving them standing side by side. “Stand down,” Emma orders and Killian takes another step forwards, sword in hand as the guard looks at her, hesitant, uncertain and she orders him to stand down again. Why aren’t they listening?

“Swan,” he whispers, hook pressing into her hip, trying to hide her behind him. “They know about your magic.”

She only lets the panic take over for a moment, simmering low in her stomach, heart hammering, before she channels it. Light begins to simmer in her palms. “Then they have all the more reason to listen.”

“Emma!” Her magic vanishes, the familiar voice sending a pang through her. They both turn, but it takes her a moment to raise her eyes to his, to see how he’ll look at her now, if there will be fear there, or worse, hatred. Killian raises his sword at the guards there, led by an older man with a scar on his chin.

“Dad.”

“Emma, we were so worried,” he says. Killian’s sword lowers slightly as her father steps forward and his eyes settle on the pirate holding her back, on his weapon. “Step away from my daughter.” He’d kill him. She knows he would. She can see it in his eyes, magic or no, he’s her father and he would destroy anyone who tried to hurt her.

“Dad-” Killian drops his sword but doesn’t leave her side.

“Seize him!”

“Dad, wait!” He doesn’t listen, guards grabbing Killian, dragging him off of her, and she reaches for him as her father pulls her to his side. “Dad, wait, no!” She’s crying now, shouting at him as she grabs for Killian’s hook.

He gives her a small smile that she knows he doesn’t feel, knows is just for her. “It’s alright, love.” He brings her hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it before he’s dragged off. “I’ll find you,” he calls. “I promise. I’ll always find you.”

Emma turns to her father, grabbing at his tunic. He’s staring after Killian, an expression she can’t read on his face, but not the abject hatred and murderous intent that had been there a moment ago.

“Dad, please, don’t hurt him.” He finally looks at her, brow pinched in confusion, and she says the words she’d been so afraid to confess to anyone but Killian. “I love him. Please. Please, don’t hurt him. I’ll do whatever you want.” His eyes go wide, mouth falling open and she lets her head fall against his chest, somewhere that had always felt so safe. His hand comes to the back of her head, a reflex born of years of soothing her tears and her words are muffled against his shirt through her tears. “I can’t lose him. I love him. Please.”

***

The cell door beside his opens, another prisoner tossed in with a grunt and a few choice curses at the guards. The women in this kingdom certainly do have a way with words. “And here I thought I had the place to myself,” he says because even now, for all his years and all the time he’s had to learn better, he still hasn’t.

“You won’t have any place for much longer,” the guard says to him. Ah yes, those pesky gallows they keep mentioning.

“Ou, ominous,” the prisoner next to him says, laughing as the guard walks away. She’s a woman, he can’t see her, a thick stone wall separating their cells, but her voice is light despite its bite and her hands hang out the bars she leans against, distinctly feminine. “What did you do to piss them off?”

“Trespassing.” It’s not completely untrue. He did trespass in the castle. And he’d trespassed where he had no right being the moment he thought he could be a part of Emma’s world.

“Hanging for trespassing?” she demands. “Man, this kingdom is rough.”

“It was a bit more complicated than that.”

“How so?”

“Look, I’m not really in a chatty mood, what with my imminent death and all.”

“Ah, I get it. First time?”

He scoffs. “Not hardly.”

“Always nice to meet a kindred spirit.” Killian can hear her smile and he finds one tugging at the corner of his lip. He likes this woman. She reminds him of Emma in a way, the snark and the dark humour. “So, you’re not in a talking mood,” the prisoner says when he doesn’t answer. “Are you in an eating mood?” She sticks her hand out, offering a roll of bread. “It’s not much of a last meal but I was able to snag it off the guard's plate when he was tossing me on my ass.”

Killian takes it, not having eaten since this morning, hand slipping out of the bars to reach for it. “Thank you.”

She gasps when his hook flashes against the iron, but not in fear. “You’re the pirate who tried to kidnap the princess.” She sounds almost impressed.

“I wasn’t trying to kidnap her.”

The prisoner laughs. “Sure, and I wasn’t trying to rob that carriage.”

“I wasn’t -” he sighs. It’s pointless. There’s no reason to argue.

“Okay, I’m sorry. You weren’t trying to kidnap her. So what were you doing?”

“I was trying to find her.”

“... to kidnap her?”

“To warn her.”

“... That you were going to kidnap her?”

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am, thank you.” He doesn’t answer. “So are you going to tell me what you were trying to warn her about?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because there’s nobody else to talk to and I might be the last person you talk to. You know, deathbed confessions and all that.”

He scoffs. “I’ve been in more dire straits than this and found a way out.” He begins doing just that, searching for a weakness in his cell, anything that could help him get free - or anything he could use to overpower the guard.

“And go where? This palace is a fortress.”

“To her,” he says to himself, but she hears them.

“Who? The princess?” He doesn’t answer. “Oh, do you want to tell me about it?”

“About what?”

“Come on now. You don’t seem like a stupid person, but you’re stupid enough to break into a castle to try and talk to her. And to break out of the dungeon and go right back to the same castle to find her. I mean, it’s not difficult to figure out. Life-in-danger stupid is the kind of stupid that’s only brought on by one thing.”

“Love,” he says quietly.

“Yeah. So, do you want to talk about it?”

He sighs. “What would be the point? I’m going to lose her no matter what now.” Either her parents will kill him, or they’ll find a way to keep her away from him forever.

“Because… Say you do die tomorrow; say this is your last night. If you can’t be with her, don’t you at least want someone to know your story? Don’t you want someone to be able to tell her that you spent your last hours thinking about her? I would.” A pang pulls at his chest. He hasn’t feared death in a long time, he’d not had anything to lose, to leave behind. “But hey,” she says, “maybe I’m just a romantic.”

“I… I promised her it would be alright. I knew it was a risk from the beginning.”

“So why did you do it?”

A small smile tugs at his lips. “You’d understand if you met her. I knew it was a risk, but I also knew that I had no chance, the moment I met her…”

***

Her father takes her down to the kitchen, dismissing the rest of his guards as he leads her to the table. He sets to making a cup of hot chocolate - ‘The best remedy for when my girls are upset,’ he used to say - and puts it down in front of her. She’s still crying and he’s looking at her like he doesn’t know what to do. It’s the first time in her life he hasn’t had an answer.

“Sweetheart, talk to me. What’s going on?

“Are you going to execute him?” The thought is so horrible, the question so harsh that her fingers shake around the mug.

“I… no. No, we won’t do anything until we know what’s going on. But you have to tell me.” Emma takes a shaky breath, trying to calm herself. “You… You said you love him.” She can tell the sentence is hard for him, both to say out loud and to wrap his head around. She nods.

“Isn’t he a little old for you?”

“Dad.”

It’s his turn to take a deep breath. “But… When…How long has this been going on?”

“A year.”

“A year?” Emma nods and he runs a hand over his face, processing - poorly. Her father clears his throat, stands and digs out a bottle of liquor. “We might need something stronger than cocoa for this conversation.” He pours two generous servings and drinks deeply from his. “Maybe you should start at the beginning.”

She takes the second and nods. “He saved my life.”

***

Killian told her the story of how they met; how she’d fought a pirate twice her size and twice her age, how brave and strong she’d been as she held her own until the very end. He told her how he saved her and brought her back to his ship, how she’d stayed the night and then never left. He told her of the months they spent on the Jolly Roger, how scared she’d been of her own magic, how beautiful, and awe-inspiring it had been to watch her come into her power.

He told her how she’d been the one to kiss him first, and he told her of the fear and doubt that had held him back. He told her how Emma fought him, every terrible excuse he could think of, and then asked him to let her try and love him. And he told her how she had. He told her how he fell in love with her, how every moment he spent with her made him love her more.

He told her how they knew she eventually had to go home, and how it destroyed both of them to leave the world they’d created behind. He told her how they would meet every fortnight in a tavern near the kingdom, and how they sailed away whenever they could.

He told her about their last meeting, their last night where she’d asked him to run away with her, to take her somewhere she’d never be found, to love her and be with her and forget the rest of the world. He told her how they both knew that was something they could never have.

“The next time I saw her, she wasn’t her. She was another Emma, one from a world where she and another version of me had somehow defied the odds. They’re happy, together, in love.”

“Another her?”

“It’s a long story,” he sighs. “There were wishes and stars involved.”

“Would you run away with her? If she asked you again?”

He thinks for a long moment. He hadn’t wanted to make her leave her family, her home, her birthright. But ever since he thought he lost her, now that he fears he’s lost her again… “Aye. If it was truly what she wanted, I’d sail away with her in a heartbeat.”

“What if she asked you to stay?”

“I don’t see how that would ever happen.” Where he is now attests to that.

“But if she did ask, would you?”

He feels a slight tug at his heart. It’s something that’s bothered him since that first time Emma asked him to run away with her, the first time he’d kissed her on the deck of his ship - she’s never asked him to stay. Perhaps it makes sense, she fits better into his world than he does into hers. But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t give up everything for her - the Jolly, his crew, his life at sea…

“I’d be with her anywhere she wished rather than spend another day not by her side.”

The woman behind the wall is quiet, and he lets the moment hang in the space around him. It’s strange, to have confessed so much to a stranger, to feel such a weight lifted from his chest for it. But he feels relieved, as she’d suggested, that someone besides the two of them will know their story, that his love for her was real, and true, and that he loved her until his last moment.

“It’s morning, you know,” she says softly and he looks up, no light in the dungeons apart from the burning candles. But his body can feel the change in time, trained the way it has been for centuries to wake on his ship, to keep track of days and years in Neverland, and he realizes he spoke all night. “And listen.” He does, but there are no sounds apart from the dripping of water somewhere in the damp caves. “No drums.” She’s right. There are no drums announcing his execution, no guards come to take him to the gallows. “It looks like you might get that second chance after all.”

He hears the clattering chime of keys, a lock being turned and then the door beside him swings open. The prisoner steps out, coming to stand before his cell. She’s older than he expected, long silver hair with only a few remnants of black, ivory skin still lovely despite the passing of time, and eyes the colour of sea glass.

The woman rests a hand on one of the bars, looking at him with an intensity that holds him in place, keeping him from reaching for the keys she holds so near. “If everything you said is true, Killian-” Those eyes bore into him, a kindness behind the strength… Emma’s eyes. “Then I’m glad my daughter found you.”

***

David and Snow sit in their chambers, at the small table in the sitting room they’ve always used for these kinds of conversations, the difficult ones that called for debate and decisions. The Arguing Table, the king had once dubbed it. But now neither speaks, both lost deep in thought at the revelations that have been brought this morning. Their daughter has magic, something she’d been so afraid of them learning that she ran away, terrified of what they’d do to her.

They failed her. Their own fear and trauma passed on to the person they love most in the world. ‘Emma is the product of true love,’ Blue had told Snow when she’d gone running to her after Emma - or, not Emma - had used magic and then disappeared two days ago. ‘That’s the most powerful magic of all, and it creates a light strong enough to vanquish any darkness.’

They’d been scared, of course they had, the sudden power unexpected and bringing back so many horrible memories. But the fact that she believed they would turn against her, fear her and not the unpredictability of magic, it breaks both their hearts. They swore that if they found her - ‘When we find her,’ Snow had insisted - they would make it right.

And she’s in love. Their beautiful, wonderful, perfect daughter is in love - and she kept it from them. Snow had feared Emma would never open herself up to love again, not after that horrible man had come and toyed with her heart when she was so young and left her without a reason, so heartbroken that David had nearly hunted him down and killed him himself. Snow had nearly let him.

Their stories match up; after hearing what Emma told David, Snow believes that everything Killian told her in the dungeon was true, right down to her wanting to run away with him. She loves him so much that she would give up her home, her kingdom, them for him. And it stings, of course it does. But she’s their daughter, Snow knew she wouldn’t need them as much one day, that she’d find her own happy ending apart from theirs. Her husband is still not as convinced, staring at the fire with his hand at his chin, oscillating between disbelief and indignation.

“I still want to kill him.”

“David!”

“I’m not saying that I will. I just don’t like the idea of some pirate twice her age coming here and seducing our daughter away.”

“He’s not twice her age,” Snow says, as patiently as she can despite her exasperated sigh. “And she’s a grown woman, how old they are doesn’t matter. Besides, I think from what they told us, it was the other way around as far as who seduced wh-”

“Ah!” he grimaces, holding up a hand. “I don’t want to hear that.”

“Tough.” He looks up at her with those sad, hurt, puppy dog eyes he uses so well without ever meaning to. “He didn’t steal her away, Charming. He’s the reason she came home to us at all.”

Her husband, Prince Charming, knight and King of Misthaven, pouts, and slouches back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “So what, I’m just supposed to accept a pirate as a son-in-law?”

“If they decide that’s what they want to do, then yes. But this isn’t our parents’ generation, they don’t have to get married.”

“Oh, he’ll marry her,” David says and this time it’s a threat.

“Whatever they decide, I think we have to accept that he’s the one she’s chosen. And if we want to keep our daughter in our life, then he’s part of the deal.”

“But he’s a thief!”

“So was I.”

“He’s not of royal blood!”

“Neither are you.” He looks almost offended and Snow reaches for his hand across the table. “You didn’t hear the way he spoke about her, Charming… I think it might be true love.”

He sighs, shoulders sagging, turning his hand to hold hers. “I know.”

“You know what that would do to her if we tried to separate them - what she would do. We’ll lose her, David. I don’t want to lose my daughter.” He nods, squeezing her fingers affectionately and she knows he’s on her side. He always is - it just takes him a while to realize it sometimes.

“I suppose I could knight him,” David says, lost in thought again, clearly still not over the idea of having a pirate for a son-in-law.

Snow lifts their entwined hands, pressing a kiss to his thumb. “Whatever makes you feel better, darling.”

***

Emma hasn’t slept, up all night looking for Killian, then finding him, then losing him again and then sitting up with her father, telling him the story of how she met and fell in love with a man he doesn’t approve of. She knows he doesn’t approve. But he would probably never approve of anyone she chose to be with, overprotective since the moment the Evil Queen had threatened her, before Emma was even born. She fears what he would do to Killian if he knew about the baby.

Her hand settles over her stomach. He’d promised he wouldn’t harm him, at least not until they decided what to do about the situation, and he made her promise not to go looking for Killian. It was a promise she’d almost broken seven times in the few hours she’d paced her room before sunrise. What does he mean ‘when they decide what to do about the situation’? Would they send him away? Keep him locked in the dungeon for the rest of his life?

The relief she feels over her parents not fearing her magic pales in comparison to the anxiety that consumes her at the thought of being separated from Killian. She knows if they send him away, she’ll find him, and if they keep him in the dungeon, she’d get him out, or he’d get himself out and take her away. And her father knows it too. Which means the only true way to keep him from her would be - no. He promised.

It’s just after dawn when she’s summoned to the throne room, her footsteps echoing across the empty hall, no one but the King and Queen sat in their thrones, waiting for her. Her mother stands, crossing the room to take Emma’s face in her hands, kissing her cheek and then hugging her tight.

“I’m so sorry,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry you were so afraid to tell us.” Her voice is choked with tears she always lets herself shed, mighty queen or not. Snow releases her, looking at her again, eyes watery as she strokes her cheeks. “We love you, Emma. You’re our daughter. And we want you to be happy, no matter what that looks like.” Her eyes dart up to her mothers, hope blooming in her chest where her heart beats rapidly. “I know you told your father, but I want to hear it from you. Is he really what you want?”

“Yes,” she says without any hesitation. “More than anything, Mom… I love him,” she pleads and the queen’s tears begin to fall as a smile spreads across her face. She looks back at her husband, nodding.

“Bring him in.” Emma’s heart jumps into her throat at David’s words, turning to the large doors that are being pushed open by two guards. Another two file in, followed by yet another two who lead their prisoner inside, each holding one of his chained arms.

“Killian!” His head snaps to her, looking stunned to find her there, the wind knocked out of him as she sprints across the hall to throw herself at him. He can’t hold her, not with his hands cuffed in front of him, but he tucks his chin into the crook of her neck, speaking into her hair.

“Are you alright?”

She nods, not ready to let him go. “Are you?” He nods as well, but grunts when she squeezes him tighter. ‘Six guards seems a little excessive,’ she hears her father’s voice behind her, but she’s too busy pulling back to look at him, the cuts and bruises she’d not seen in the dark last night. ‘It was… necessary, Sire.’

Killian smirks. “Don’t worry, love, I’ve lived through worse. I just don’t bounce back as quickly anymore as I did when I used to sneak into young lass’ bedrooms.” Emma shakes her head at him and lifts a hand to his brow, tracing the curve of his temple and cheek and lets her magic seek out his pain, settling on his chest where she lets it flow out of her and into him, healing them all. He breathes a little sigh of relief. “Thank you.” She can feel the way the guards tense at her display of power, inching back slightly.

“Release him,” Snow orders. “And leave us.” The guards do as they’re told, freeing his wrists and leaving the throne room, shutting the door behind them. Killian’s arms come around her immediately, holding her close until her father speaks again.

“Come forward, pirate,” he orders and Killian looks up over her shoulder at the king, then at her.

“It’s okay,” she promises, because for the first time since she returned from that other reality, she has hope it will be. Emma slips her fingers between his, walking by his side to the thrones, her father doing his best to loom over him, to intimidate him, despite the way his hand is grasped around his wife’s.

“My daughter says she’s in love with you.” Killian turns to smile at her, barely a movement but she catches it before he’s looking seriously at the king again.

“Aye. And I love her.”

“And I’m sure you realize why this might pose a problem for us, both as rulers and as her parents.”

He smirks. “Ah, yes, the pirate thing.” Emma nudges him with her elbow and he squeezes her hand. So not the time for snark. Her mother seems amused though, pressing her lips together in a telling way.

“Yes, that. Obviously we can’t have a pirate courting the heir to the throne. And as she’s so determined to be with you, and we don’t wish to lose our daughter to a life at sea, it comes down to one question. Are you willing to remain in Misthaven and give up your life for her?”

Killian speaks at the same time as she does, refusing to let them force this choice on him. “Wait -”

“- Aye.”

No, no this isn’t what she wants. She doesn’t want him to have to give up the life he loves for her, the only one he’s ever known, his home, the sea… His thumb brushes over the back of her hand when David presses him.

“You’d give up your title? Your reputation? Your ship?”

She knows her dad’s just testing him now and she opens her mouth to call him out on it - there’s no reason he can’t have a ship even if he lives here. But Killian turns to her, eyes so full of emotion it stops the words dead. “I already have.”

Her heart is pounding in her chest, in her throat as she stares at him in disbelief. What does he mean he already has? She doesn’t get a chance to ask, David slapping a hand down on the arm of his throne.

“Then it’s settled. You’ll be a knight.”

“Well, nothing’s been made official, yet. We can figure out what works best -” Snow starts but he continues.

“And you’ll get married.”

“Only if you want to. And only when you want to.”

“We’ll have to do something to make sure the story is told to the kingdom the way we want it to. Rumours could -”

“David.” He goes silent finally. “We have plenty of time for all of that. For now, let’s just give them a moment, alright?”

“I still think he’s too old for her.”

Killian is still looking at her, nothing but love and hope in his eyes and she doesn’t know what to say, what to ask. What does he mean he gave it up? She thinks of the Jolly, empty and abandoned in that port not far away. Killian is never far from his ship, never leaves her unguarded. He brings their entwined hands to his lips, kissing the back of hers and she hardly notices her parents leaving the room, the hall empty now, just the two of them and her voice echoes despite how softly she speaks.

“Killian… Did you give up your ship for me?”

He doesn’t break her gaze. “Aye.”

Her heart is racing again. “When? How? Why?” None of the questions seem big enough to capture the scope of what he’s telling her, what she can’t wrap her mind around.

“When you were ripped away from me and sent to that other bloody realm. It’s how we got you back. I traded the Jolly for a wishing star.”

Emma frowns. “Traded? To who?”

She can see the apprehension that creeps over him, but he doesn’t falter. “Blackbeard.”

“What? Why would you do something like that? She’s your home.”

“Don’t you know, Emma?” She only stares, waiting, aching with guilt at what he gave up for her, what else he’s going to give up. “My home isn’t the Jolly Roger. It’s you. She’s nothing but planks of wood and a sail. That ship was my home because the only life I wanted to live was aboard her. Now that life is here, by your side - if you’ll have me.”

She’s crying now, tears slipping silently down her cheek. “I didn’t think that you’d want to stay, not when it meant giving up a life of adventure for court politics and dances.” It was why she hadn’t told him about the baby either. She didn’t want to tie him to her, to land out of obligation.

He smiles softly at her and she can see the tinge of hurt in it. “You never asked.”

“I didn’t want you to have to give up anything for me.”

His smile is sweeter now and he reaches to brush away her tears. “You were willing to give up an entire kingdom, a crown, and your family for me. Is it so unreasonable to believe that I would do the same for you?” He leans in to kiss her but she stops him before their lips can touch, a hand on his chest.

“Wait. I want to say something before you kiss me and I forget everything I’m thinking.” He gives her an amused smirk but nods. “When I was in the other reality, I met another version of you.”

“Aye. I had a similar experience.”

“He told me something.” She remembers the younger Killian’s words, ones she’d been so afraid to believe. But he’s given up so much for her and she needs him to know that it’s not just him, that he’s not the only one who found his home. “He told me that I’m your happy ending. But before you say anything,” she cuts off the words that had started to come out of his mouth and he shuts it. “I want you to know… that you’re mine.”

His eyes water at her confession, smile wobbly as he beams at her. “Now can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” she laughs and he lunges forward, smile capturing hers in a way that she knows he’s here to stay. She never should have doubted it at all.

***

“I could get used to this, you know,” he tells her as they make their way up to her room, much to her father’s irritation - ‘We’ll get you set up in some quarters-’ ‘David.’ - and his amusement.

They’d spent the day patiently sitting through meals and plans and agreements with her parents, Killian constantly thrown off guard whenever a servant would appear, as though by magic, and offer him something to eat, or refill his cup when it was empty - something he would have to watch out for, lest he accidentally get sloshed in front of her father.

The halls they walk through now are ornate, carved stone and gilded windows, art the likes of which could buy a thousand ships decorating the walls. “I can’t believe you were going to give this up for a cabin and a galley.”

Emma snorts, hand holding his hook as they walk, swinging it between them. “One day in a castle and you’ve taken to the life?” she asks, parroting his words from so long ago. Killian only smirks.

“It’s a hard life to resist when it comes with such a lovely face,” he flirts and sees her cheeks flush even as she rolls her eyes. He reaches out and brushes a thumb over her blush. “And such a lovely colour.” He continues to trace along her jaw. “And such a lovely neck,” he says, fingers ghosting along the line of it.

Emma’s tongue slips out to run over her lip as her breathing shallows and he feels a pang of desire tug him closer. He’s not touched her, not properly, in over a week, and with the adrenaline of the last few days finally fading, he’s overcome with the need to feel her beneath his hand and mouth. He traces her collarbone, fingers inching towards the swell of her breasts, following the curve of the lace that hides her from him. “And such lovely -”

She pulls him down the hall, the last few meters to her bedroom where two guards stand outside, the same he’d done away with last night. “You can go, thank you,” she tells them, pushing the door open and dragging him inside. Killian can’t help the smug smirk he flashes at them before she shuts the door.

She grabs for him, tugging at the clasps of his vest as she scolds, “You can’t touch me like that in a hallway where my parents live and where there are a hundred guards constantly watching us.”

He raises an amused brow, shucking his coat and vest as she starts on the buttons of his shirt. “If this is your reaction, love, I think I very much can - and will.” He doesn’t give her a chance to answer, hooked arm wrapping around her waist, lifting her and spinning them so he can press her against the door. The wanton little gasp she gives when her back collides with the wood goes straight to his cock and he presses the hardening length into her as she wraps her legs around his hips, watching her bite her lip before claiming it for himself.

Gods he missed her. His mouth slants over hers finding her tongue and growling into her when her hands reach for his belt, tossing it to the floor and starting on his laces. This is hardly the way he’d intended for their reunion to go but her grip is already vice-like around him and he’s shoving her skirts up around her hips.

She strokes him hard, as though she can read his mind when she says, “we can go slow later.” There’s filth in her eyes and in her promise and he’s going to bloody lose his mind if he’s not inside her another moment. Killian takes her hands, forcing her to release him and pinning them above her head with hand and hook, the motion so familiar, too familiar.

He stops, memories of her - another her - splayed out on his desk while he fucked her like this and he knows she said Emma wouldn’t mind, but he does. His desire is replaced by guilt, and fear of her reaction when he tells her. Because he has to tell her.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, sensing his change in mood.

“I…” He looks away, releasing her hands and they settle on his shoulders to steady herself as he lets her down carefully. “I have to confess something to you.”

“What is it?” Her voice is full of concern, for him and only for him, her hands gentle on his cheeks, stroking through the silver patches in his beard she knows better than him now. “You’re scaring me a little,” she says and he makes himself look at her, heart heavy.

“When the Emma from the Land Without Magic came here in your stead, she sought me out for help and I... I thought she was you and we shared… a dalliance. I’m sorry, love. If I’d known - I should have known.” He expects anger, fears hurt, but instead she sighs in what sounds like relief, a small smile at the corner of her lips before she rises on her toes and presses them to his. “You’re not angry?” he asks, pulling back in surprise, and relief.

She shakes her head. “You thought she was me, didn’t you?”

“Aye.”

“And you had no reason to think she wasn’t - I mean, she is me.” But she wasn’t. And that was what tore him up inside. “And, it would be hypocritical of me to be jealous.” He looks at her in question. “I thought… I thought you’d been cursed, given fake memories by the Evil Queen.”

“The Evil Queen?” She nods, his heart frantic at the thought of what danger she might have been in.

“I was terrified, and he - you - made me feel safe,” she says, hands gripping the collar of his shirt. “Like you always do.” He strokes a hand through her hair, glad that there was a version of him there to help her, to make sure she came back to him in one piece. He wouldn’t trust her safety to anyone else. “So if you’re guilty of something, then I suppose I am too. But I’m glad she found you, that she had you by her side because I don’t think I’d have made it through that ordeal without you either.”

“Emma,” he says softly, cupping the side of her face and kissing her brow. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“And neither did you,” she says firmly. “I think that maybe you and I, Killian and Emma, are meant to find each other, to save each other, to fight for each other, no matter what world or circumstances we’re born into. We belong together. Always.”

His chest feels as though it was going to burst, swelling with the love he has for this woman, love that no time or place or distance or curse could ever falter. “I like the sound of that.”

“Good.”

He kisses her again, softer than before, hand gentle as he explores the length of her arms and back and waist through her dress. They have time for slow now. “You’re entirely over dressed,” he tells her and she nods, smiling as he reaches for her laces and begins to pull them free, mouth at her neck and then her breasts when he sends both dress and shift to pile to the floor.

“Now that,” he comments, looking over her shoulder, “is the biggest bloody bed I’ve ever seen in my life.” Emma laughs, one of the favorite sounds he knows he can draw from her. He scoops her up again, hand and hook wrapping her legs around his waist. “I say we make proper use of it,” he suggests, crossing the room.

He drops her on the mattress, watching her practically disappear beneath the thousands of pillows scattered over the blankets. He crawls over her, tossing them all aside one by one as he digs her out and she giggles. “First thing to go when I move in are these bloody pillows.”

Emma raises a brow, biting back her smile. “When you move in? That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think?”

He narrows his eyes playfully, dips his head to nip at her shoulder. “I believe I’ve all but been ordered to, love.” He nips her again, lower this time, teeth grazing over the swell of her breast. “And if there’s one thing a captain knows, it’s that orders must be obeyed.”

“Well, if they must, they must,” she says, long suffering and he kisses her quickly before sitting up to shuck his shirt, reaching for his brace. “Wait.” He stops and finds her watching him nervously, face flushing and he knows that expression. She wants something and she’s too embarrassed to ask for it.

“What is it?”

“I… Killian told me something else.”

He almost expected to feel jealousy, her blush and her hesitation making him think that he told her something in a very similar position to that in which they find themselves now. But he only finds curiosity, realizing it’s a rare and intriguing situation he finds himself in for her to have been with a version of him who didn’t share their history, who may know things about her that they’d not shared yet or that Emma doesn’t even know about herself. He remembers the ‘yes, captain’ that had fallen from the other Emma’s lips, something he’d not known he wanted to hear or that he would enjoy so much.

“I imagine he told you many things, he’s a very wise man,” he teases, lowering himself back down over her. She rolls her eyes a little but some of her anxiety wavers. He kisses her, chaste and sweet. “What is it, love? I’m not jealous.”

“He said that you take your hook off because you think I won’t like it - that most women are afraid of it.”

“Aye.” Insightful bastard, isn’t he?

Her eyes soften, fingers tracing the silver in his hair she’s so fond of as she brushes it back from his face. “Killian,” she sounds almost annoyed. “I’ve never been afraid of your hook. It’s as much a part of you as your hand or your wrist, or… any other appendages,” she flushes again and he smirks. Emma brings a hand to his cheek, eyes soft, serious. “I love every part of you, alright?”

He nods. “Alright.”

“Good. So only take it off with me if you want to. Not because you think I do. I know it makes you feel safer to have it on.” He was touched that she’d noticed, though he ever said anything, but after so many years of living at sea, at risk of attack at any moment, being caught without his brace and hook left him feeling vulnerable in more ways than one.

He leans down, lips falling over hers gently. “Thank you.” Emma reaches for him when he breaks the kiss, pulling him back down to her and presses her mouth to his. She kisses him slow and deep, mouths wide and tongues searching, Killian lowering himself over her as he tries to get closer. His stomach tightens at the small sounds she makes when her breasts press against his chest, when his hips lie flush with hers, the long, low moan she lets out when she feels his cock hardening against her.

He trails his mouth along her neck, tongue hot and wet against her skin as he tastes every inch of her. She gasps when he rolls his tongue over her nipple, pulling it into his mouth to nip and suck slowly, lazily and he can feel her growing more frustrated beneath him, clinging to his hair and back. Killian smiles against her skin, he knows that when she gets like this it’s so easy to make her come, that he’ll be able to do it again again on his fingers and tongue and cock. And it makes him wonder.

The high, choked sound that leaves her when he glides the rounded curve of his hook over her breast makes him growl low in his throat and he does it again, dragging the sharp tip in a slow circle around her nipple. She hisses out a ‘yes’, writhing slightly beneath him and gods he doesn’t think his cock has ever been so hard in his life.

He slides the edge over her stomach and watches her press her lips together in anticipation, nodding when he hesitates above the apex of her thighs. ‘Please’. The sight of her seaking her release on his hook is something he never thought he’d crave so desperately, and it drives him almost mad with lust.

His mouth closes over the peak of her breast again, hook between her legs, rolling over that sensitive bundle of nerves in time with the desperate rocking of her hips as he brings her to the edge once more. Her mumbled, incoherent pleas of his name and for more nearly make him spill himself in his leathers like a still wet-behind-the-ears lad. She’s always had this effect on him, the only one who seems to be able to defy his age and his experience and make him so bloody quick off the mark.

When he can see she’s nearly found her release, just at the crest of that clifftop, he slides between her thighs, thrusting into her and feeling her come on his cock. “Gods, you’re bloody brilliant, Swan,” he curses, rocking into her and relishing every exhausted little moan of pleasure that she lets out when he pushes back in. He can feel the ripples of aftershocks trembling around him. “Can you keep going, love?” he asks, watching the lazy way her back arches under him, her brow pulled low over tightly shut eyes, not wanting to push her past her limit with how tired she no doubt is.

He’d not meant it as a challenge, but he can see the way one flashes in her eyes when she opens them, narrows them at him, and then she’s pushing at his shoulder. He lets her roll him onto his back and he sits up when she falls over him to capture his mouth with hers, holding them both upright as she glues herself to him and kisses him until she draws a low moan from his chest.

She ruts her hips against his, a strangled cry falling from his lips as she smirks. “Can you?” He’s at a loss for words when her hand wraps around his length, rising and sinking down over him. His hand fists in her hair, drags her mouth back down to his and kisses her as she rocks against him. They pant and moan and gasp against each other’s lips, breaking away only enough to curse or speak words of praise and encouragement and pleas into the air between them as she moves over him.

He can tell that she’s close, the sounds leaving her faster and she pushes him down onto his back, leveraging herself on his chest as she rides him towards her release. She’s not a princess, she's a bloody goddess, golden hair falling around her shoulders, nails digging into his skin as she takes her pleasure, bringing him to the brink of his own.

He can’t not touch her, sliding over the length of her stomach, feeling each rise and fall of her ribs, closing his hand around the soft skin of her breast, thumb rolling over her hardened nipple. He traces up her neck to cup the back of her head when he feels her start to tremble around him, pulling her down to slant his lips over hers as he comes, hard and sharp and leaving him shaking, tasting her release on his tongue as she follows him over the edge.

“Gods, I missed you,” he breathes as she collapses over him. They lay panting for a long time, Emma’s weight a pleasant comfort over his chest and hips as he draws patterns over her back. When she eventually rolls off of him, he pulls her to him, tucking her back snugly against him and pressing a kiss to her ear.

“I think I’m a fan of this whole confession thing,” she says, still breathless and exhausted and he laughs. “Anything else you feel the need to get off your chest?” Emma teases.

“Not at the moment, love, but I’m sure I’ll be able to think of something once my heart doesn’t feel like it’s going to burst out of my chest.”

“I have one,” she says after a long pause and he can feel the shift in her mood. “I may have accidentally stolen the Jolly Roger back.”

“What?” He lifts his head and she looks over her shoulder at him.

“Yeah. I came back on board and it was empty and I brought it here to find you.”

“Bloody hell.” He wants to laugh. No doubt he’ll probably have to face Blackbeard at some point over it, but he’d not gone back on their bargain. Blackbeard had left the ship unattended and so it was taken from him. He beams at her, pressing a kiss to her lips. “You’re unbelievable.” His heart feels lighter. While he’d have traded it a hundred times over for the woman in his arms, he can’t shake the joy at having his ship back.

“Does that… change anything?”

“Like what?”

“Do you still want to stay? You have a choice now… more than you did when you said yes and I-”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Swan? There was never any choice. It was always you. I told you a year ago. I’ll be here until you send me away.”

A tear slips down her cheek but he knows it’s a happy one so he only kisses the trail it leaves in its wake. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Then I have something else to confess.”

“Oh?” he asks. Emma nods, reaching for his hand that’s still wrapped around her, resting over her heart. She draws it down until it rests low on her stomach and folds both her own over it. It takes him a moment, a heartbeat where he looks at her in confusion before it clicks and his heart doesn’t beat at all for a second. “Swan?” He looks up at her, searching her face for answers, not able to believe it, but she nods, lip caught between her teeth. “Are you sure?” His voice is rough, tears caught in the back of his throat.

“Yes.”

Killian shifts so she can roll onto her back, spreading his hand wider over her still flat stomach. He looks at her in awe more emotions than he has names for flooding through him as he leans down and kisses her belly. A child. His child, something he never thought he’d have. Milah hadn’t wanted any others after Bae and there’d been no one he’d wanted to share that with after she died. Until now.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“I’m bloody terrified,” he laughs, unable to look away from where his hand rests over the life they’ve created. Terrified and happy, the happiest he’s ever been in his long, long life.

“Oh, good, me too.”

He kisses her stomach again and then takes her face in his hand and kisses her the way he had when she told him she loved him, the same overwhelming joy and disbelief and honour. “Thank you.”

“I mean, you did half the work…”

He shakes his head, laughing as he kisses her again for her cheek. “For everything. For loving me, for fighting me on it, for bringing light and laughter and hope back into my life, Emma. I love you. So much. And I promise I’ll be there for you and for her,” he says, hand settling back over her stomach, “for the rest of my life.”

“Her?” she asks, her smile wet with tears that he wipes away.

“Aye. A little girl, strong and powerful like her mother, and born of true love like her as well.”

Emma pulls him down to her, kissing him hard and fast and he’s not sure whose tears are dampening their cheeks but he doesn’t care. “I love you.” She says it with so much certainty, a deep smile pulling at his lips. “But you remember that whole true love thing, okay. You’re gonna need it.”

Killian raises a brow. “Why’s that?”

“My dad might actually try and kill you for this.”

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#captain swan #cs fanfic #cs ff #killian jones #cs smut #cs #cs au #captain swan fanfic #cs angst #wish realm au

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exhaustedpirate · 1 year ago

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parent for hire

here is the end of our adventure! consider this a late christmas gift and thank you so much for joining us in this journey! this whole story is dedicated to krystal (@kmomof4) for how amazing she was during this whole thing, thank you so much!

Chapter Eight - Epilogue

word count: 2,010 words

rating: Teen and Up

tag list: @cocohook38 ; @bluewildcatfanatic ; @piraterefrigerator ; @sotangledupinit ; @booksteaandtoomuchtv ; @teamhook

Two years later

Avalon looked the same as it had the last time they had been there. It had looked the same as the time before that, too. And the time before that, and the time before that… Killian and Emma had made the journey to the island many times in the last two years.

After the portal disappeared from the water’s surface, they had sat on the water’s shore for a few long moments, hand in hand, barely any space between them. They hadn’t wanted to leave. They hadn’t wanted to face life without the boy.

Returning back to the Caspartine had been a slow trek, silence filling the space between them. They were received with understanding and mournful expressions. Despite his short time aboard, Henry’s presence had impacted the crew, the boy’s family, greatly.

Killian and Emma had joined the Caspartine crew in their voyages, dividing their time between the skies and the Misthaven court, sharing time with their families.

They had been present for Nemo and Shakespeare’s retirement celebration and had helped the former Captains move their belongings into a cliffside cabin. Then they had been in attendance at Prince Lucas’ birth. He was named Crown Prince after Emma declared her decision to join Killian captaining the Caspartine.

The ship had two captains once more. Ones just as in love as the former.

Their relationship had continued its growth during their separation from Henry. Without adventures and villains, Emma and Killian had finally been able to enjoy the quiet moments. They leaned on each other, trusted each other, and loved each other.

Killian knew he loved Emma far earlier than he thought possible. It took all he had not to shout it out before she was ready. The crew would forever remember the time he almost navigated the ship through a flock of birds when Emma whispered her love for him in his ear. Thankfully, her laughter at his reaction had been easily silenced by a kiss.

Every month, without exception, they would make their way to Avalon. They would row to the shore, settle on the bank of the lake and watch the sun rise and the sun set. Every month, Nimue and the island would welcome them as old friends and they would feel her understanding, her care, the shared love for their missing halves.

Sometimes Killian would quietly tell stories about the stars, repeating some, telling others anew. Sometimes Emma would sing, her voice blending with the nature surrounding them. They did it all in hopes of triggering Henry’s return. It hadn’t worked yet.

The sun was high in the sky, its blinding light reflected in the crystal clear water. Despite the cold air, the warm glow of the sun created a balmy atmosphere. Killian lay on the blanket they spread on the grass, parallel to the bank of the lake with Emma’s head cushioned on his chest.

“It’s Henry’s birthday soon,” Emma said quietly, popping a slice of pear in her mouth. “Will and Elizabeth invited us to be there. We need to bring him something.”

“Aye,” Killian sighed, his fingers running casually through Emma’s hair. “He did tell me what he wanted as a present, when we were last there.”

With a curious frown, she stretched her neck to look up at him. “What did he say?”

“He wanted Henry there.”

“Oh.”

Her quiet answer left even more quiet in its wake. It was why he hadn’t told her then, not when she was so happy, shown by the wide smile on her face, at spending time with their friends. Not when just the thought of the boy reminded him of the missing part of their hearts.

His strokes through her hair turned more comforting as the quiet gave them space to feel their loss.

“It’s been so long,” Emma whispered, her voice breaking. “What if something happened?”

The questions had been asked time and time again. Nimue would smile reassuringly at them, explain that this training was Henry’s destiny, and that she was confident he was safe. Snow and David would hug them, patting their backs comfortingly, giving them words of hope. They stopped engaging with the Blue Fairy after some aggravating comments over their “reckless behavior” when they split their hearts to save Henry instead of preventing it all together. If Killian had had any more interaction with the head fairy he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself from attempting something very foolish.

“We would know,” he answered as he did every time. Despite his own heart-wrenching concern for the boy, he knew that their hearts would also be the ones to warn them.

Emma turned around, carefully avoiding the spread of treats over the blanket. Crossing her arms, she lay her chin on them so they could look at each other. He cupped her cheek with his hand, rubbing his thumb on the apple of her cheek.

“We would.” Like always, she would place her hand over his heart, focus on its steady beating and he would feel the warmth spread over it.

He followed her arm to lay his hand over hers on his chest, his fingers tracing hers, focusing on her ring finger. His heart beat faster at the thought of adorning the empty finger. She smiled, feeling his touch and he was thankful she couldn’t read his mind.

It wasn’t the right time. There was still something missing.

“Come here.” Killian smiled, removing his left arm from behind his head to rise on his elbow.

Emma shared his smile and rising up on the palm of her hand, she cupped his cheek, their eyes focused on each other. His hand laid on hers once more, unable to keep from touching her, from being close to her.

Her lips pressed softly against his, a chaste kiss that still brought a spark to his whole body, like she always did. The kiss turned deeper, their love shared between the touch of their lips, the soft moans and sighs filling their little haven.

A powerful wave made the ground tremble, leaving a feeling of warmth. They opened their eyes, breaking the kiss. A frown creased their brow even as a surprised smile stretched their lips.

“How did you do that?” Killian asked, impressed.

Her smile dimmed as her frown deepened. “That wasn’t me…”

Their joint confusion melted into realization, their eyebrows raised and lips parted. At once, they turned to the lake, their hearts beating faster in anticipation.

Henry stood over the water like they had before, a closing portal behind him. He looked different, older, but they would always recognise their boy.

“Hi.” Even his voice sounded different and not just due to the emotion in it.

“Henry…”

Killian’s whisper prompted them into action. Faster than they thought possible, they stood up, rushing towards the water. Henry did the same, running towards them.

They met in the middle, crashing together in a jumble of limbs. Henry had grown taller, his head now reaching their shoulders, his arms long enough to wrap around them both. There was a mess of sobs, tears, and smiles in the almost non-existent space between them. They were together again.

“You’re back,” Emma cried, grabbing onto Henry’s cheeks to place several kisses on his forehead and cheeks. “I can’t believe you’re finally back.”

“I missed you guys.” Henry smiled, tears streaming down his cheeks, burying his face in Emma’s neck. “So much.”

With Emma’s arms wrapped around the boy, Killian wrapped his left arm around the both of them, his hand on the back of the boy’s head. “So did we, my boy.” He laid a kiss on his forehead.

He raised his head with an excited smile, his eyes shining. “I have so much to tell you!”

“So do we!” Emma grinned, wiping her tears with the back of her hand before going back to touching Henry’s face and arms almost immediately.

“A lot has happened.” Killian smirked, wiping away Henry’s tears, uncaring of his own.

Henry looked between them, his happy smile filling all the cracks in their hearts. They stood in silence for a few minutes, reveling in the fact that they were reunited, that they were a family once more.

“You have cake?” Henry asked, his eyes having finally gone to the spread blanket on the grass.

The two adults let out a surprised laugh. “Aye, my boy. Elsa made it specially for you.”

Henry frowned. “How did she know I would be back?”

“She didn’t.” Emma’s smile was melancholic as she caressed the boy’s cheek. “She makes it for us every time we come here, just in case.”

“Oh…” Henry sighed, a frown creasing his forehead.

“But you’re back,” Killian added, a smile on his face. “That’s all that matters.”

“Yes and we’ll have a lot of time to make up for.”

Henry gave an agreeing nod, a smile lighting up his face. “Starting with having cake.”

They laughed together as they began to walk back to the blanket.

“Actually,” Killian stopped their progress. “There is something that I’d like to do. Something that has been a long time coming.”

His companions looked at him, a curious expression on their faces. The realization of what he was about to do made him nervous, his heart beating faster and his palm sweating.

“I was waiting for you to come back to us to do this,” he began, looking at Henry. “Not only because I wanted you to be present for this but also because you have a very important piece of this puzzle.” Killian took a deep steadying breath, glancing at Emma’s confused expression before holding his hand out towards Henry. “I’m hoping you still have my ring?”

“Yeah.” Henry quickly unclasped the chain. “I kept it safe.”

As the ring was deposited in his hand, Killian saw Emma’s eyes widen in realization. Henry still sported a curious and confused expression.

“Thank you, my boy.”

He turned to Emma, her parted lips and wide eyes greeting him. He dreaded finding something in her eyes that told him this was a bad idea, but all he saw was love.

“Emma,” Killian said with a deep breath. “You know I love you and I hope you know I want to spend the rest of my days by your side. I want to be your family. I want to be your home. And now that we have our boy back, we can be just that.”

Killian smiled at Henry’s shocked face, finally realizing what Killian was about to say. He returned his gaze to Emma, sharing her smile and the watery shine in her eyes.

“So, Emma, our Swan…” His smile grew as his companions chuckled. “Will you marry me?”

He never felt more exposed - his heart in clear view of the world - as he did now, standing in front of the love of his life and his son, holding a ring that symbolized the family he had had once and that he hoped to have again.

His heart stuttered as Emma shook her head. Despite his nerves, he never expected a ‘no’. But then her hand cupped his cheek, her smile wide and bright, her other hand grabbing onto his and he could do nothing but get lost in her eyes as he shared her smile.

“With words like that,” Emma’s voice trembled. “How could I say no?”

His smile widened as he closed the space between them to kiss her fiercely, passionately. He could feel his heart fill with love, warmth, happiness. So full he felt it was doomed to beat out of his chest. Distantly, he heard Henry’s cheers.

They broke for air, Emma’s smile blinding. She let go of his hand to open hers to him. Understanding her intention, he chuckled, sliding the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. Henry wrapped his arms around their necks pulling them into a hug, now filled with laughter.

They were a family. They didn’t need anything else.

Well, Henry thought differently, much to their amusement.

“This calls for some cake, right?”

#parent for hire #carolina writes #the actual big finale #thank you for reading #i love you guys #killian jones #emma swan #henry mills #captain hook #captainswan #captaincobraswan #ouat #once upon a time #cs ff #ouat ff

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deckerstarblanche · 2 years ago

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Random WIP Thursday: Going to Hell (not sure what this is, but it typed itself onto this page!)

Emma was pissed off, and it wasn’t just because she was tired of fighting their way through Hell’s waiting room. No, she was pissed at Liam Jones; unpleasantly surprised that he turned out to be a self-righteous prick instead of the paragon of virtue Killian always idolized.

“Killian blames himself for being here…he’s been fighting darkness his entire life, and you pushed him off the cliff….Stop thinking of your own desires, and let him go…”

Liam’s harsh words kept repeating themselves inside her head, stomach-churning as they were.

Some of what he said was undeniably correct: She had been selfish as the Dark One, so desperate to keep her true love alive that she’d sent him hurtling backward; back down into the black void that had filled his soul for centuries. Maybe she really was the anchor keeping Killian from his destiny, and being forced to follow this endless clue path was her punishment. Emma shivered at the thought as a deep shame washed over her.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you coming?” Killian asked, the gentle concern in his voice breaking through her negative thoughts. She looked down, wishing she could melt into the floor instead of meeting his eyes. Emma had never met anyone whose eyes were actual windows into his soul before, but she had gotten to know him so well that she could read him like a book — most of the time. Right now, she knew his gaze would be soft and loving, and she didn’t deserve that.

“Oh…yeah, sorry. Let’s go,” she replied, hearing the lifelessness in her own voice, so she knew he’d pick up on her feelings. He always knew. Even though her legs felt leaden, she tried to exit the room, but his hand gripped her wrist, keeping her close.

“No, wait. We’re not leaving until you tell me what’s going on. I know when something’s bothering you.” Killian reminded her, and when she finally looked at him, the love and understanding she could see in his eyes made her want to sob. Why would he willingly stay when she could save him?

Her heart thudded in her chest as she answered. “It’s Liam…I’ve had a bad feeling ever since we met,” she admitted, and it physically hurt to watch that sweetness fade from his eyes as he looked away, shaking his head in disbelief. She forced herself to continue, knowing that he always valued her perspective. He may hate her for it, but she couldn’t turn back now.

“At first, i thought it was just because he didn’t like me, but I think he’s hiding something.”

Killian gulped as he stepped back, narrowing his eyes and lengthening the space between them. She already felt colder, as if an intangible connection that linked them was slowly falling apart.

“That’s preposterous! My brother wouldn’t lie.”

It was Emma’s turn to gulp. “Maybe there’s stuff about him you didn’t know. Maybe he does know what his unfinished business is down here,” she reasoned uncomfortably, hating herself for making him feel worse than he already did. The man was dead after all, and had only recently been released from Hades’ own private insane torture chamber.

“No, you’re wrong about him,” he replied, eyes softening in a plea to make her see reason. “I know who my brother is.”

Emma could practically hear his voice in her head, begging her to trust him like he had in Camelot. She felt devastated, but clearly Killian’s long held reverence for his older brother was clouding his vision. She was about to open her mouth and point that out, but he turned away from her, heading out of the library.

It was the start of him leaving her, she could feel it.

“I’m going to go help my brother find those pages.”

Tag List: @kmomof4 @cs-rylie @ishoulddefbedoingotherthings @booksteaandtoomuchtv @jonesfandomfanatic @pirateswhore @teamhook @jrob64 @ultraluckycatnd @everything-person

#captain swan #current wip #ouat season 5 #underworld #feelings

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wistfulcynic · 2 years ago

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@optomisticgirl tag-summons me and i answer 😘

Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason. <3

First fic: Sea Drift, an excruciatingly navel-gazey Killian Jones character study that becomes and almost not bad S3 no-curse mini-fic then dips a toe into an alt S4 before i got tired of it. Part of me almost wants to rewrite the no-curse stuff but as things stand i cannot in good conscience recommend it.

Last fic: On the Side of the World, a Good Omens third season pre-write. This one i can and do recommend. i'm having such a good time writing it. Please read it and validate me with comments

Only once: A World in Lilac Hues, my Pride and Prejudice modern AU. The only P&P fic i will ever write and ironically the most popular fic of mine by several country miles.

Favorite fic from the fandom I've written in most: i am pretty fond of a lot of my CS fics but the edge probably has to go to To Keep It All The Year. Not a Christmas Carol AU but inspired by it, with similar themes and structure and one of my favourite sadboi Killians and beyond a doubt the best ending i've ever written. Consistently the only one of my fics that makes me cry and one that i reread every year.

Fic I wish more people read: On the Side of the World, probably, because it's the current WIP and i love it and frankly the ship has sailed on CS and OFMD. If you don't want to read those it's your loss and i am not the boss of you, sorry you have bad taste in fanfic (this is only partly a joke). But OTSOTW is my current baby and like all parents i am prepared to make strangers admire it by force if necessary.

Fic I agonized over: idk if agonise is really the word but i wrote all the perfect things (that i doubt) for @ohmightydevviepuu and i wanted it to be Just Right for her so i gave it a lot of thought.

Fic that sprang fully formed: do you know why we have the sunflowers i wrote in about an hour. It was just There in my head. (also fave OFMD fic)

Work(s) I'm proud of: listen, i am not modest about my fic and currently not in the mood to be coy about it. i'm proud of all of it, even the rough early stuff and the ones with great big visible flaws. Some of them i would never want to read again but i'm still proud of them because they were part of the journey. Read them or don't, they will continue to be good regardless.

A tag to summon @thisonesatellite @idoltina @iverna @chocolatepot @kmomof4

#profdanglais #fic #fanfic

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snowbellewells · 1 year ago

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For the Book Survey…

A B C L & O

Yay!! Thank you K for the ask!! I hoped I would get some, as this looked like a really fun list!!

A- Author you’ve read the most books from

That would probably be either C.S. Lewis or Nora Roberts (interesting pairing to answer the same question, I know) Though I have also read several Regency romances by Sabrina Jeffries, Lisa Kleypas, Kerrigan Byrne, and Anna Harrington, so they would be close behind as well…

B - Best Sequel Ever

That’s tricky, I had to think about that one for a minute! Maybe either Chamber of Secrets in the Harry Potter series, or New Moon in the Twilight series. Chamber entered up being my favorite out of all 7 in the HPs, and New Moon gives us a lot more of the Quileutes, the wolves, and Jacob, which was what I was all about by that point anyway! 😉🐺

C - Currently Reading

I get a lot of grief and disbelief for this but I have about 10-15 books going at most times. I switch back and forth depending on the mood I’m in. For a sampling though, I am currently reading Sparkling Cyanide by Agatha Christie, The Mistletoe Countess by Pepper Basham, A Certain Wolfish Charm by Lydia Dare, The Girl With the Make Believe Husband by Julia Quinn, The Thief of Blackfriars Lane by Michelle Griep, Small Town, Big Magic by Hazel Beck, Hooked by Emily McIntire, and I am re-reading Dracula to prep for my CSSNS fic.

L - Longest Book You’ve Read

Hmmmm, I don’t know that I particularly tend to take note in that way. But The Thornbirds was pretty long, and I have read all of it, so maybe I will say that. 🤷🏼‍♀️

O - One Book That You Have Read Multiple Times

I don’t know that there are too many books I have read completely over again - not that I wouldn’t want to, but there are just so many books in the world to read and experience. I have read The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis more than once though. And I’ve read The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings series twice. I’ve read The Scarlet Letter more than once. Oh, and by virtue of teaching it, I’ve read The Great Gatsby MANY times.

#bookish ask games #bookish asks #answers for @kmomof4 #snowbellewells answers asks

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searchingwardrobes · 5 months ago

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Scarborough Fair: 11/?

I'm so excited, ya'll! This is it - the wedding chapter! And the wedding night, which means sexy times. I don't write smut, so it's super steamy and then fades to black. Buuut this may just be the steamiest thing I've ever written. So, enjoy!

And a reminder of Emma's wedding dress:

Rated: M for date rape, dubious consent, teen pregnancy, and sexy times (the good kind!)

Words: Over 3k in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging: (let me know if you wish to be removed or added): @snowbellewells@teamhook@kmomof4@jrob64@xhookswenchx-reads-blog@thisonesatellite@welllpthisishappening@spartanguard@ohmakemeahercules@tiganasummertree@sparlecorn93@sals86@pirateprincessofpizza@xarandomdreamx@zaharadessert@huntressandlioness1@jamif@undercaffinatednightmare@onceratheart18@sparlecorn93@sals86@pirateprincessofpizza@xarandomdreamx@zaharadessert@huntressandlioness1@jonesfandomfanatic @hollyethecurious @lfh1226-linda

Chapter Eleven

“I can’t believe I was so stupid!” Ingrid slammed her palm against the steering wheel as they drove back home.

“It isn’t your fault Ingrid,” Killian assured her. “I think it was that amulet he wears. When he touched it, something happened to me. My thoughts got muddied, and I was drawn towards him.”

Ingrid shook her head and pressed her lips into a thin line. “You withstood him better than I did,” she looked over at Emma, “you both did.”

Emma’s brow creased. “You’re right. Maybe it has something to do with what my mom and Belle both said about true love.”

“What did they say?” Ingrid asked.

Killian cleared his throat. “Just that the love Emma and I have for each other can be protection against Rumplestiltskin.”

“Not exactly,” Emma laughed, looking back at Killian with pride sparkling in her eyes. “My mom seemed very relieved that I had Killian, and Belle said that Rumplestiltskin wasn’t counting on Killian being in the picture.”

“She said he hated me,” Killian clarified.

“Don’t listen to him,” Emma told Ingrid, “he’s basically my hero.”

Killian scoffed even as his cheeks pinked, and Emma laughed.

“Emma,” Ingrid scolded, “how can you be so flippant about this? I told that horrible man things about our family. I invited him to the wedding! He could ruin it somehow.”

Emma shook her head. “He won’t. I don’t think he even can. Don’t ask me how I know. I just do.”

Ingrid glanced at Killian’s reflection in the rearview mirror. He shrugged back at her. Emma was humming the tune of “Scarborough Fair,” of all things, looking contentedly out of the window. How their visit to the mental hospital could possibly have encouraged her was beyond him, but he loved her all the more for her sudden optimism.

Ingrid’s phone started to ring, and she answered via her bluetooth.

“Hey babe,” she told Liam.

“Hello, love. I’ve got great news!”

“We can use as much of that as we can get. What is it?”

“That professor of agriculture got back to me. According to him, we can take a kernel of corn and grind it down. Then we add that corn ‘powder’ to something fine, like flaxseed, and sow that.”

“Will that count?” Emma piped up.

“He thinks so,” Liam said. “Apparently there’s some legend in . . . Wales? Scotland? I can’t remember, but anyways, in the legend a father won’t let his daughter marry the man she loves unless he can sow an entire field with just one kernel of corn. This was how he accomplished it.”

“You didn’t tell him about our situation, did you?” Ingrid asked with concern.

“Of course not! I told him I was thinking of publishing a second book about the song ‘Scarborough Fair,’ that’s all.”

“Okay, well, at least that’s one thing.”

“Elsa is doing some data analysis to figure out how fast Emma needs to plow before the tide comes in.”

“Now we just have to find this town no one knows.”

That was what worried Killian the most. None of them had any idea how to go about the second riddle. And after their visit to the mental hospital, it was more clear than ever that the future of many people, not just Emma’s, was in the balance.

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

The next week and a half flew by, and before Emma knew it, she was sitting in front of Ingrid’s vanity mirror in her wedding dress. Ingrid was applying her makeup, and Anna was using a curling iron on her hair. They all yelped when the door flew open, but it was only Liam.

“What’s with all the people downstairs?” he demanded.

Ingrid straightened up to look at him, a stick of eyeliner gripped between her fingers. “We’re having a wedding, dear, the living room is filled with guests.”

Liam rolled his eyes. “I’m aware of that. But I counted two priests, a rabbi, a baptist minister, a Buddhist monk, and some woman waving a gourd around.”

“The gourd is part of a Cherokee ritual to ward off evil spirits,” Ingrid explained as she leaned down to apply eyeliner to Emma’s eyelids, “and there’s only one priest. The other is an Episcopalian minister.”

“Ingrid, what’s with all the holy people, that’s what I’m asking!”

Ingrid sighed as she straightened once again from her task. “I invited an evil imp to this wedding by accident, okay? So I’m trying to counter that with anything and everything I possibly can!”

Liam sighed. “That’s sweet of you, darling. Eccentric, but sweet.”

He stepped forward and placed a kiss against his wife’s cheek as Emma and Anna laughed. He left after promising for the fifth time that day to keep Killian downstairs.

“Do you think he noticed the crystals you lined up on the fireplace mantel?” Emma asked when he was gone.

Ingrid chuckled. “Probably not.”

Anna let out a frustrated groan as she released another limp curl from the curling iron. “I’m not good at this!”

“I told you to use hot rollers,” said Ingrid.

Emma shook her head. “I don’t want my hair too overdone.”

Anna gave Ingrid a weighted look. “If only Elsa were here. She’s the only one who can do that loose side braid you love.”

Suddenly, Ingrid’s walk-in closet burst open. “Did someone say they needed my help?”

Emma squealed with joy at the sight of Elsa stepping out of the closet. She jumped up and threw herself into her older sister’s arms.

“I’m so glad you’re here!”

“And I’m glad to finally get out of the closet.” Elsa looked over Emma’s shoulder and scowled at her sister and her aunt. “I thought you two would never say the code word!”

“We didn’t know Liam was going to interrupt!” Anna retorted.

Ingrid just laughed. “Sorry we hid this from you, Emma, but we wanted it to be a surprise.”

“I wasn’t sure I could make it, either,” Elsa explained, “so we didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

Emma shook her head, dabbing carefully at tears that threatened her makeup. “I don’t care, I’m just so happy to see you! Will you be my second bridesmaid? You can wear the dress you have on - this wedding is very informal.”

“You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Elsa assured her. “Now, are we going to do something about your hair or not?”

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

Killian stood in front of the fireplace in the Jones family living room, his brother standing at his side. He kept fidgeting and shifting from one foot to the other.

“Nervous?” Liam asked him.

“No,” he answered without hesitation. He barely noticed all the people, most of whom he swore were strangers, crowded into their home. He didn’t feel he was giving up his freedom or being burdened, or any of the other cliches people used for grooms. He just wanted to see Emma descend the stairs. He wanted to pledge his life to her, slip the ring in Liam’s pocket onto her finger, kiss her, and then begin their life together.

Liam’s friend and colleague, shoved into a tiny corner with his keyboard, began to play the processional, and Ingrid was the first to descend the stairs as Emma’s matron of honor, a tiny bouquet of white daisies clutched in her hands. Elsa, then Anna. followed Ingrid down the stairs. Killian strained his eyes for Emma. She wouldn’t be escorted. She had said it was unnecessary, and she wanted Liam to be Killian’s best man.

Then, suddenly, there she was, and the music changed. She seemed to float down the stairs like a vision, her dress trailing the ground, her bare shoulders glowing under the lights, and her golden hair in a loose braid that draped over her shoulder. Her hair was threaded with baby’s breath and Queen Anne’s lace, and she clutched a simple bouquet of white roses tied with a white satin ribbon. Her eyes were searching the crowded room, but she didn’t seem to be able to see him.

Then, suddenly, at the bottom of the stairs, she faltered. She reached out one hand to grip the banister tightly. Her skin went suddenly pale. She seemed to be staring at something no one could see.

What Killian couldn’t see, what no one could see, was the man at the bottom of the stairs, leaning on his cane. Only Emma could see him. Her breaths became shallow, and she suddenly felt dizzy. Panic gripped her heart.

“You want to run,” Rumplestiltskin told her, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “You don’t want to get married at 17. You don’t have to. Just turn around and go back upstairs.”

Emma began to shake. What was she doing? He was right! She was too young to get married! Why was she getting married again? Who was she marrying? Something wasn’t right. This man made sense - she should just run back upstairs.

“Emma?”

Rumplestiltskin jerked his head towards the sound of the young man’s voice. The boy didn’t see him, of course. His spell had seen to that. But why was there such strong magic emanating from the lad? Rumple recoiled, feeling a sudden, sharp, physical pain. The shirt! The stupid boy was wearing the shirt Emma had made with no needle or seam. The wretched shirt that solved the first riddle. No one could see it; he wore it beneath his shirt and tie. The boy must be sweating in the heavy felt, too. What had possessed him to don the thing? Curse him! Rumple stumbled backwards, the magic of true love overpowering him. He turned and ran, his glamor spell starting to wane, and his skin burning. He almost fell down the steps, but when he reached the sidewalk he turned and steadied himself, smoothing down the front of his suit coat.

“No matter,” he snarled up at the house and the people inside. “I may not be able to touch you yet, but I will, mark my words, I will, and soon!”

Inside, the sound of Killian’s voice had broken the spell that had held Emma frozen at the bottom of the stairs. She looked down into Killian’s gentle smile and sparkling blue eyes, and every doubt and bit of confusion fled. He held out his hand.

“Don’t be afraid, Emma,” he told her softly, “we’ll walk the aisle together.”

She took his hand and descended the last few steps. She tucked her arm into his and beamed up at him.

“Why would I be afraid?” she asked him, and she would never remember the strange man at the bottom of the stairs.

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

Emma giggled as Killian carried her over the threshold of the house they would share, at least as long as the professor who owned it was on sabbatical. Killian set her down, brushed her lips with a kiss, then stepped forward, his arms spread wide.

“So, what do you think?”

Emma stepped slowly into the room, taking in the small foyer and the modest living room to the left. To the right was a stairwell, and down a short hall in front of her was a small eat-in kitchen. It was a narrow, two story Victorian, even older than the home she grew up in with Ingrid. Emma wrapped her arms around the post of the stairway banister and looked up at the decorative stain glass panel above the front door which was so common in Victorian homes. It cast shafts of colored light onto the flowered wallpaper.

“It’s not very big, I know,” Killian told her, “but the man who owns it is a bachelor, after all. The upstairs is better, though. He renovated it to just one huge master suite with a really modern bathroom. It’s got a double shower!”

Emma caught his gaze at that, and a teasing smile lifted her lips. “Really?”

Killian swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. He’d never heard that one word sound so laden with sensual promise. Emma bit her lower lip as she regarded him, still draped across the banister.

“I could . . .” he stuttered, “give you a tour. Of the house, I mean.”

Emma grinned slyly, then gazed up the stairs. “I only want to see the bedroom.”

Killian swallowed again, “Oh - okay.”

Emma stepped closer and took his hand. She said nothing, just gazed at him in a way that took his breath away. He took the stairs, leading her by the hand, every nerve in his body on high alert.

The stairs led them straight into the master suite, with no door separating the two. At the back of the room was a sitting area surrounded by built-in bookshelves. A TV was mounted on the wall so it could be seen from either the sofa, rocking chair, or bed.

The bed. It was a queen size, four-poster bed situated in front of a beautiful round window of colored glass. It dominated the room, or at least it seemed to right now. Emma walked to it slowly, running her hands along the quilt that lay across it. When Ingrid had seen the house, she said the quilt was another sign that fate meant them to be together. The pattern of interlocking circles was called a wedding ring quilt.

Emma wrapped her arms around one of the bedposts, just like she had the banister downstairs, and looked at him shyly. Two spots of color tinted her cheeks. Killian scratched behind his ear and gestured to the door to his left.

“Do you, uh, want to see the bathroom?”

“Killian,” Emma said gently, “why are you so nervous?”

He was able to laugh, just a bit, at her words, but he didn’t know what to say. Emma took one step forward, took him by the hand and pulled him closer. To her and to the bed. She ran both hands up the front of his shirt and began to undo the buttons. His heart threatened to beat right out of his chest.

Suddenly, Emma paused. “What’s under your shirt?”

“The one you made. To solve the first riddle.”

Emma laughed as she worked off his tie and undid the rest of his buttons. “Oh my God, you must have been burning up!”

“You have no idea!” He laughed too and peeled the scratchy, insanely hot shirt up and over his head. He sighed in relief as he tossed it aside, then ran his hand through his sweaty hair. He caught Emma staring at him, her cheeks now bright red. He wondered if she would get nervous now, but instead, she turned her back to him.

“Unzip me?”

Her back was almost completely bare already in her halter dress. The zipper didn’t start until her lower back. He could scarcely breathe as he slid it down, revealing her lacy underwear.

“And untie the halter?” Emma’s voice was thick, and he was thankful he wasn’t the only one obviously shaken by desire.

Killian did as she asked, letting his fingers dance along her spine after he finished. Emma sucked in a sudden breath at his touch. He stepped closer, encircling her waist and pressing his chest to her back. Still holding the front of her dress to her chest, Emma leaned back into him, and he trailed kisses along her neck.

“Are you even wearing a bra?” he asked against her skin.

Emma turned to face him, still holding her dress up. “It’s hard to wear a bra when it’s a halter,” she said, then she let go of the dress, and it fell with a soft rustling sound at her feet.

For a few heated moments, he took her in, glorious in nothing but a pair of white lace panties. Then he surged forward, pressing her bare breasts against him and devouring her mouth with deep kisses. Emma moaned as he maneuvered her to the bed, and her hands fumbled with the zipper of his pants.

After kicking aside his pants, he covered Emma with his body, nothing between them but that tiny scrap of lace. His hands roamed, as he sucked on her neck, and Emma panted as she grasped his back. He pulled back for a moment, tenderly cupping her cheek.

“You asked why I was so nervous.”

“Mhm,” Emma replied, her lips pressed together, and her eyes wide.

“Are you nervous?” he asked, his hand drifting down to caress her breasts.

“A little,” she whispered.

“Me too,” he confessed, “because I don’t want to hurt you.”

Emma pressed her hands to his cheeks. “I know you would never hurt me.”

He ran his thumb along the waistband of her panties, and she shuddered, her eyes fluttering shut.

“I don’t want you to be scared,” he whispered hoarsely.

Her eyes opened and held his as she lifted her hips and guided his hands.

“Do I look scared to you?”

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

The window above the bed scattered beams of light in various shades across the quilt that covered Emma and Killian. They were both still naked, and Emma was tucked against him, running her hands through his chest hair. He ran his hands along her bare arm and kept brushing kisses to her forehead.

Emma let out a contented sight, “That was amazing. I want to do it again and again and again.”

Killian chuckled. “I’m so relieved to hear you say that. I was so worried, I even asked Liam for advice.”

Emma twisted so she could look into his face. “You talked to Liam about us having sex?” she yelped.

“Not like that, just . . . I wanted to be sure I was sensitive to what you’ve been through. He understood that and was really helpful. I read that some guys are really rushed and insensitive without meaning to be when it’s their first time, and I didn’t want to do anything stupid.”

Emma nodded, then a slow grin spread across her face. “Well, whatever he told you, I need to send him a thank you card, because . . . wow!”

Killian laughed. “Now, that would be awkward.”

Emma suddenly grew quiet, and her hand stilled in its exploration of his chest.

“Emma?” he asked tentatively.

She sighed and rolled over next to him on her back. For her to lie there next to him, her breasts uncovered, made him feel so honored to receive that vulnerability. Still, something told him she was insecure about something.

“Did I disappoint you, though?” she asked.

Killian rolled closer to her as he exclaimed, “What? Why would you ask that?”

“Well, I doubt you imagined a woman with this kind of figure for your first time.” She ran her hand over her baby bump, which still wasn’t incredibly noticeable, to be honest.

“Emma,” he said softly, turning her chin to face him, “you are the most beautiful, exquisite thing I have ever seen in my life. I thought I was going to internally combust for a moment when your dress hit the floor.”

Emma chuckled at that, but he could still see the insecurity in her eyes. He decided to show her instead. He gently ran his hand down the length of her body, stopping at her rounded abdomen. He caressed it gently, then leaned down and placed a lingering kiss right beside her belly button. To his surprise, he felt a small thump in response.

Emma gasped, and Killian’s head snapped up. “Did he just -”

“Yes,” Emma laughed, “he just kicked you.”

Killian lowered his lips again to Emma’s belly. “Hello, little one,” he said, “it’s me, your daddy.”

He kissed Emma’s belly button again, and Emma dug her fingers into his hair. When he looked back up at her, tears were shining in her eyes. He pushed himself up and kissed her, gently at first, and then with more passion. Emma broke the kiss, her green eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Didn’t you say something about a double shower?”

Before he knew it, she was out of the bed and darting to the bathroom door. With a growl, he jumped up and chased after her.

#cs ff #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan fanfiction #lieutenant duckling #cs au #cs impossible au #impossible au #modern fantasy #angst #cs angsty august

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kmomof4 · 1 year ago

Text

Destination Dream Weddings, Driving Disasters, & Dented Derrieres: A Fic Collaboration Between @kmomof4 @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose and @jrob64

It's the final chapter!!! Let's get these kids married!!! Thank you all so much for coming along on our dream destination wedding adventure!!! We all hope you enjoyed it as much as we enjoyed writing it!!

Rating: T

Words: 4600 of approx 21k

On ao3 and ff.net

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

The next morning, Emma awoke in Killian's arms and smiled to herself. Long distance dating was the worst. She missed this most of all when they were apart - feeling his warmth and comfort envelop her as she slept and waking to his intoxicating scent.

It had been difficult to let her walls down, even with Killian, but having done so was so very satisfying, and it was quickly becoming clear that this thing was going to last. Despite the difficulties of a long distance relationship, it seemed that he was in this for the long haul, and so was she.

She nearly laughed in glee when she realized the thought no longer scared her. At all.

Sometime, sometime soon, they would have to figure this thing out. Long distance wasn’t a long term solution, and she wanted long term. More than she ever could have believed.

Impulsively, she leaned up on her elbows and kissed him softly. His lips ticked up in a gentle smile, and he breathed out her name before kissing her back.

Finally, he opened his eyes. “Morning, Love.”

“Morning,” she answered. “Sleep well?”

He nodded. “Always, when you’re with me. It’s a travesty that this wedding experience lasts only a week. I need more time with you. I always need more time with you.”

“Me too,” she assured him. Gradually over the past year, she’d gotten more comfortable not only admitting to herself how much Killlian meant to her, but admitting it to him as well. His eyes always lit up like the sun when she did so, and this morning was no exception.

“Maybe one day we won’t have this infernal distance between us,” he said, gently stroking her cheek.

“Oh, I hope not,” she agreed. “So what’s on the agenda for today?” she asked after a moment, as she lazily traced circles in his chest hair. “I know we don’t need to be up and at ‘em early, and that we have the rehearsal this afternoon, but that’s all I know.”

“I believe today’s schedule consists of various tasks to prepare for the wedding,” Killian said, “and then in the evening, if you’re agreeable, I have a proposition for you.”

“Yeah?” she asked. “What’s that?”

He reached for two tickets on his bedside table and presented them to her. “I bought us tickets to a sunset cruise this evening on the Georgia Queen riverboat in Savannah. We deserve a bit of alone time this weekend, aye?”

Emma sighed. “Killian, I’d love to,” she said, “really I would, but we have to be up to get ready for the wedding at the ass-crack of dawn tomorrow. If we’re out until who knows when after a sunset cruise, I’m going to be a zombie all day.”

“Please? For me?” he asked, giving her his look - the one she found both hot and adorable.

She didn’t stand a chance.

“Okay,” she agreed softly, “let’s go on a romantic sunset cruise tonight.”

Accordingly, as late afternoon approached, Emma found herself in her room in the cottage, after having shooed Killian out. She, Mary Margaret and Elsa all worked together to prepare her for her date. She felt like a teenager on her way to prom.

It was kind of ridiculous. She was going on a date with her boyfriend of a year. It really shouldn’t be this big of a deal, but when she’d told Elsa of her plans with Killian, her friend had gotten quite excited, insisting they go into the St. Simons Island shopping district to get a cute, light pink, calf-length dress and some nude slingback heels.

When they’d gotten back to the cottage, she’d commandeered Mary Margaret, who needed a break from last minute wedding details, to help with the hair and make up.

Looking in the mirror just before grabbing her clutch purse and heading out to meet Killian, Emma decided she looked pretty decent.

By his reaction, she looked far better than that.

“You look…” he said, uncharacteristically lost for words.

“I know,” she tossed back flirtatiously, as she walked past him and out the door.

They talked all the way to Savannah, the conversation flowing freely, as it always did between them. It was amazing to her just how easy and enjoyable it was to be with him. She didn’t just love him, he was one of her best friends in the world.

She wanted him with her. Always and forever. She vowed then and there that she’d find a way to make that a reality - soon.

Killian had purchased tickets to an unguided sunset dinner cruise. They dined on some truly delicious cuisine, accompanied by flutes of champagne, then stood on the deck as the sun went down, watching the beauty of the river and the city pass them by.

She’d just turned to Killian to comment on how beautiful it was tonight, only to find him on one knee on the deck, his hand outstretched, holding a small velvet box with a sparkling round diamond ring nestled inside.

Emma gasped, her hand moving to cover her mouth, and the tears coming to her eyes. “Killian, are you about to…”

“Emma,” he said, and she saw a tear shining in his eye as well, “I love you more than anyone or anything in this world. When we’re apart, it feels as though a vital part of me is missing. You are the best, most extraordinary, and most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I am constantly amazed that you have chosen to be with me. Will you do me the greatest honor of my life and become my wife?”

Carefully, she got to her knees across from him and took his beloved face in her hands. She didn’t need to think, didn’t need to consider. There was only one answer she’d ever want to give. “Yes,” she said simply, as a single tear traced its way down her face. She leaned in and kissed him softly, as around her, the cheers of their fellow tourists rang out into the night sky.

~*~*~

The day of David and Mary Margaret’s wedding finally arrived, and both rental houses were buzzing with activity.

Upon returning to the cottage the evening before, the newly engaged couple found the common rooms empty, everyone seemingly already in bed. This worked to their advantage, because they had agreed on the way back that they wanted to keep their news a secret until after the wedding, not wishing to take away from Mary Margaret and David’s big day.

Just as Emma opened the door to their bedroom, Elsa came out of her own room with Liam on her heels. It was clear they’d been waiting for Emma and Killian to return from their date, and the look on both of their faces was one of hopeful anticipation.

“Well, brother?” Liam whispered.

Killian took Emma’s left hand and held it up for the other couple to see. Elsa pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle her squeal of excitement, and Liam clapped his brother on the shoulder, wearing a huge, beaming smile.

“Wait, they knew about it?” Emma asked.

“Please don’t be upset,” Elsa said, pulling Emma into a hug. “Killian needed help with some logistics, so he had to tell us.”

“What logistics?”

Elsa and Liam exchanged a glance with Killian. “You didn’t tell her about it?”

Emma looked at Killian, who just gave a small shrug.

“We better get to bed,” Liam said. “Busy day tomorrow, you know. Don’t stay up too late celebrating!”

He hugged Emma, kissing her forehead and telling her he was glad she agreed to marry his little brother. That garnered a groan from Killian, who was receiving an embrace from his sister-in-law.

Once they entered their room, Emma turned to Killian and ran her hands up his chest, her engagement ring sparkling in the dim light of the lamp. “So, about those logistics…”

“Well, we can’t very well be married while living hours away from each other, so I’ve made arrangements to move to Chicago. I accepted a job conducting boat tours with the same company as Liam, and he helped me secure an apartment.”

“Sounds like you were pretty sure I was going to accept your proposal,” she smirked. “And what happened to your brother wanting to have his own identity?”

“I didn’t want to give my plan away, so I had to come up with some sort of excuse,” he explained, pulling her closer to him. “You’re not upset with me, are you, Love?”

She brushed his lips with her own and assured him she wasn’t. They then proceeded to ignore Liam’s last bit of advice.

They were the last ones up the next morning. Emma reluctantly removed her diamond and placed it in the velvet box, then tucked it safely away, before taking a shower and joining in the excitement of the day.

The men were sent to the other cottage, while the larger one became the hub of bridal activity. Elsa took charge of the make-up and Regina made sure everyone’s attire was properly pressed and free of wrinkles. Belle and Ruby worked their magic on everyone’s hair, and Emma became Mary Margaret’s personal assistant, making sure she was hydrating properly, helping her put on her jewelry, and double checking the contents of her garment and tote bags to ensure she had everything she needed.

When everything was as prepared as possible, they loaded the vehicles and drove to the venue - Epworth by the Sea. Since it was going to be a small, intimate ceremony with their group of friends and immediate members of Mary Margaret and David’s families, it would be held in the Lovely Lane Chapel.

Final preparations took place at the venue itself, and when Mary Margaret finally slipped into her wedding gown and her friends saw her, they had tears in their eyes.

“Oh, Mary Margaret!” Belle exclaimed, moving to secure the veil in her hair. “You look absolutely radiant!”

“David is going to be speechless when he sees you,” Emma stated, sniffling a little and trying not to spoil her make-up.

Everyone nodded their agreement, while Mary Margaret checked her appearance in the mirror, turning this way and that to try to see her gown from every angle. “I hope so. I can hardly wait to see him waiting for me at the end of the aisle.”

“It won’t be long now,” Regina said, checking the time on her phone. “The music should be starting any minute.”

Elsa stepped forward to apply one last bit of lipstick to the bride, then they gathered around her in their bridesmaid dresses so Ruby could take a quick selfie of all of them.

They heard the strains of music from the string quartet begin and quickly picked up their bouquets. Soon there was a light tapping on the door. “Ladies?” Liam said. “Are you ready?”

Elsa hurried to the door and opened it a crack. “We are. How about all of you?”

“Aye, we’re all in place.”

She looked over her shoulder and gave a nod. “Time to go, everyone.”

They exited the room and moved to the steps outside the chapel. Ruby took her place at the front of the line, followed by Belle, Elsa, Regina, and Emma as the Maid-of-Honor. She turned to ask Mary Margaret if she was nervous.

“Not at all,” she answered. “David is my Prince Charming and I’m so very ready to be his wife.”

Emma squeezed her hand, then stepped in front of her.

“I’m here!” Roland announced, as he ran around the side of the chapel, waving a white ring bearer’s pillow. All of the ladies ‘awwed’ when they saw him in his little black tuxedo, complete with a light pink bow tie.

Emma positioned him between herself and Mary Margaret, then signaled to Ruby that they were ready. The processional music started, and the ushers opened the doors. Ruby lifted the skirt of her blush pink dress and ascended the steps. Will met her at the top to escort her down the aisle.

Mary Margaret considered having the established couples in the wedding party walk with each other, but since Emma was her Maid-of-Honor and Robin was David’s Best Man, she decided to mix them all up. Killian was Belle’s partner, Elsa walked with Graham, and Regina with Liam.

Before Robin stepped forward to offer Emma his arm, he quietly asked Roland, “Do you remember what to do?”

“Uh-huh,” the little boy assured him. “Follow you and smile for the camera man.”

Emma and Mary Margaret giggled at his answer, then Emma looped her free hand through Robin’s elbow. “Let’s see if we can do our job as well as he does.”

When they were all in place at the front of the chapel, Roland having utterly charmed everyone in attendance, the music swelled and Mary Margaret began making her way down the aisle. While all eyes were on the bride, Emma glanced at David and choked up at the look on his face. Tears shone in his eyes, and his lips were pressed tightly together. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, trying to control his emotions. It was easy to see how thoroughly smitten he was with the woman who was stepping closer to him, her face lit up with a smile as bright as sunshine.

When she finally reached him, he lightly grasped her elbows and leaned in to press a kiss to her lips. “You’re not supposed to do that until after the ceremony,” Pastor Lance, the officiant, said teasingly.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself,” David replied with a grin, completely unrepentant, his eyes still fixed on Mary Margaret.

The ceremony wasn’t long but was very reverent and meaningful. After the pastor declared them husband and wife, they shared their first official kiss as a married couple. The witnesses clapped and cheered as the newlyweds quickly made their way up the aisle, followed by their bridal party.

They went outside to form a receiving line, where Will started singing, “Bom, bom, bom, another one bites the dust!”

Ruby whacked him upside the head with her bouquet. “Knock it off, Scarlet. You’ll be biting the dust one day, too. Unless Belle wises up, that is.”

Will gave her a disgruntled look, brushing the stray petals off his shoulder, while everyone else laughed at the exchange. Then he turned and grinned at Belle, shrugging his shoulders. She giggled and threw him a kiss.

The outdoor reception took place under a large, open-air shelter. Prior to enjoying a delicious meal, Emma and Robin led all of the guests in a toast to the newlyweds. Liam did some creative switching to ensure Elsa had sparkling grape juice instead of champagne in her flute.

After dinner, the couple cut the wedding cake and fed the first piece to each other. Then the single women gathered for the tossing of the bouquet, jostling for position. The bride turned her back to them, counted to three, and flung the nosegay over her shoulder.

A small scuffle ensued, with Ruby nearly tackling Belle and several ladies diving to the floor. When the chaos was over, Emma held the prize aloft. Her eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on Killian, who was grinning proudly.

David made a show of using his teeth to remove the garter from Mary Margaret’s thigh, as she giggled and blushed. Then he paraded around, stretching it above his head as all the single men lined up. When he finally flipped it behind him, there was a mad scramble. Robin made a leaping swipe for it and missed, Graham was pushed aside by an overzealous cousin of David’s, and Will slipped on a wet spot on the floor, falling hard on his already bruised derriere.

When Killian emerged from the crowd, spinning the garter around his index finger victoriously, Emma ran to give him a hug.

“That means the two of you will be the next ones to get married!” Mary Margaret teased.

Emma and Killian looked at each other, eyes wide. A blush spread up her throat into her cheeks, while he nervously scratched behind his ear.

“Hang on,” Ruby cut in, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Why do you guys look so guilty?”

“We don’t,” Killian said quickly, but the crack in his voice betrayed him.

David folded his arms over his chest. “Alright, Jones. What’s going on?”

The couple in question locked eyes again, then Emma shrugged and nodded her head slightly. Killian cleared his throat, looking around at their friends, who were now surrounding them. Then he stood up straighter, draped his arm around Emma, and announced, “I asked Emma to marry me last night, and she said yes.”

The statement was met with an eruption of noise, everyone shouting congratulations and hugging both of them.

“And here I thought Elsa and Liam were the only ones keeping a secret!” Mary Margaret blurted out.

The noise instantly ceased and all eyes turned toward her. “What secret are they keeping?” Regina asked.

The rush of color into Mary Margaret’s cheeks was enhanced by the white of her gown. “Oh…well, I…I might have…I mean, it was an accident, but I…I heard them talking the other night about announcing something, then Elsa didn’t drink any alcohol at the bachelorette party and she’s been sleeping so much and I just kind of figured that she was…that they were…” The flood of words spilled out of her mouth, and everyone gaped at her. Then they turned to look at Elsa and Liam, who were standing slack-jawed.

“Is she sayin’ ya got a bun in the oven?” Will asked.

Elsa quickly composed herself, a soft smile spreading across her face. “This isn’t exactly how we planned to announce it, but yes. Liam and I are expecting a baby in February.”

Once again, the group broke into a happy chorus of well wishes and hugs, though this time, they were careful not to squeeze Elsa too tightly.

“What’s with all the secret keeping?” Graham asked.

“I don’t know about my brother and Emma, but Elsa and I didn’t want to take away from Mary Margaret and David’s big day,” Liam explained.

“Same for us,” Emma said. “We’re sorry if it did.”

“Are you kidding?” David said. “You just made our wedding day even better! Give us all the good news!”

“In that case,” Robin said, taking Regina’s hand to kiss the back of it, giving her a wink. “I asked Regina to move in with Roland and me.”

There was a pause as all eyes swung to the dark-haired beauty. “And I said yes,” she affirmed.

More jubilation erupted for several minutes and was just beginning to die away when they heard the announcement that it was time for the bride and groom’s first dance. Mary Margaret and David moved to the center of the floor and began to gently sway in small circles. Their family and friends watched happily as the couple shared numerous kisses and whispered words, as if they were the only two people in the world.

~*~*~

The celebration lasted until nearly midnight and the tight knit group of friends were there until the very end. Roland finally lost his battle to keep his eyes open after being on the dance floor most of the night and was lying across two chairs with his head in Regina’s lap, her fingers idly ruffling his dark curls. Elsa sat with her head on Liam’s shoulder, her eyes closed and her hand resting on her still flat belly.

After the final song of the night ended, Mary Margaret and David hugged everyone and bid them goodbye, then they were whisked away by a white limo to a private bungalow their wedding party had chipped in to rent them for their wedding night.

The other couples followed soon after, stumbling sleepily into their respective cottages, thankful they didn’t need to get up early the next day. Liam had spoken to the property manager and got their checkout time moved to two PM instead of the usual ten AM.

When Emma emerged from her room late the next morning in search of caffeine, she discovered Liam sitting on the front porch with his own mug of coffee.

“Where is everyone?” she yawned, sitting in the rocking chair next to the one he was in.

“Elsa’s still asleep, and I haven’t seen hide nor hair of Robin’s crew, or anyone from the other house. Where’s my brother?”

“Still sleeping. I needed coffee and something to eat.”

“There are some snacks on the counter, but on our way out of town, we’re planning to go eat at that place Belle mentioned after we went on the trolley tour.”

“Oh, yeah. Wasn’t it called Barbara Jean’s?”

“That sounds right. Robin wants to try their shrimp and grits, and Graham saw something called she-crab soup on the menu that sounded good to him.”

“I don’t care where we eat, just as long as we eat,” Emma said.

Liam chuckled. “I’m sure we’ll all be ready to eat by the time we get everything packed up to go.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me. I dread that job.”

They were quiet for a few minutes, both sipping their coffee and rocking in their chairs, enjoying the peacefulness of the morning.

“It was a really nice wedding,” Emma commented at last.

“Aye,” Liam sighed. “I asked Elsa last night if she was upset that she didn’t get to have the whole big wedding experience. She assured me she wasn’t, but I still feel a little disappointed for her.”

“Don’t,” Emma said matter-of-factly. “When we used to sit around talking about our dream weddings, she always said she wanted something simple. None of us were surprised when she told us you two eloped.”

He nodded and gave her a slight smile. “What about you, Lass? What kind of wedding have you always dreamed of?”

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t want anything flashy, but Killian and I haven’t had a chance to talk about it yet, so I don’t know what he’s thinking.”

Liam took another sip and looked contemplative. “He won’t care as long as you’re happy.”

“He should have what he wants, too.”

Setting his mug down on the small table between their chairs, Liam turned to face her. “Emma, you could tell him you wanted to get married on an ice floe in Antarctica and he would agree to it. If I know my brother - and I do - he’ll want you to have your heart’s desire. He’s absolutely head over heels in love with you, and I couldn’t be happier. He might appear to be confident and self-assured, but he’s always been quite shy and reserved. All I’ve ever wanted is for him to be happy, and with you, he is.”

Emma’s eyelids fluttered and she looked down into her cup of coffee, considering what he said. “I never thought I’d meet a man as good as Killian, let alone have him fall in love with me.”

“I don’t understand why you thought that. You’re a very special lass.”

“Thank you, Liam,” she said quietly. “That means a lot coming from you.”

They sat in comfortable silence for several more minutes until they heard voices coming from inside. “Sounds like they’re finally waking up,” Liam commented, rising from his seat.

Emma drained the rest of her coffee and followed him into the house. Robin and Elsa were working together to unload the dishwasher.

Liam kissed his wife. “Good morning, Darling. How are you feeling?”

“Not bad, actually,” she answered. “I appreciated being able to sleep in.”

“You weren’t the only one,” Emma commented. “Killian is still asleep. I’m surprised you and Regina slept this late, Robin.”

“Ah, yes. Well, a certain young man climbed into bed with us in the middle of the night, and since he was up way past his bedtime, we thought it best not to disturb him until he woke up this morning. He gets rather irritable when he doesn’t get enough sleep.”

“I can’t imagine Roly Poly being irritable,” Elsa said.

“It doesn’t happen often, but it’s not a pleasant experience when it does, and we have a long car ride ahead of us.”

Emma wondered if Killian was awake yet and excused herself to check on him. Opening the bedroom door quietly, she saw that he was in the same position as when she left him nearly half-an-hour earlier. She sat on the edge of the mattress and skimmed her fingers up his bare arm. He twitched, but didn’t wake up. With a playful grin, she began placing small kisses across his shoulders and up his neck.

Soon, her tactics had the desired effect. He yawned and rolled onto his back, blinking blearily. “Morning, Love,” he mumbled. His low, gravelly voice sent pleasant shivers up her spine.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Have you been up long?”

“Long enough to have a cup of coffee with your brother on the front porch.”

“Am I the last one up?”

“I haven’t seen Regina and Roland yet, or anyone from the other cottage.”

He stretched his arms over his head, then quickly wrapped them around her, pulling her against his chest.

“Don’t start anything,” she giggled. “We need to get packed up so we can go get something to eat.”

“So, you’re saying if it’s a choice between morning sex and food, you’d choose food?”

“Maybe,” she teased.

Her laughter rang out as he began rubbing his scruff against the sensitive skin of her throat.

~*~*~

It was another two hours until everyone was up, showered, packed, and the cars were loaded. They reluctantly bid their vacation cottages goodbye, then drove to the seafront, where they parked in the large lot close to the pier. The guide on their trolley tour had recommended Barbara Jean’s, a restaurant famous for their crab cakes and ‘easy Southern dining’.

Their mood was subdued as it was impossible to not think about the long drive back to their homes, and the impending separation for three of the couples, however brief it would be for Emma and Killian.

The message Mary Margaret and David sent to the group text wishing them a good morning and safe travels brought smiles to their faces, knowing their friends were now happily married and would be together in Pigeon Forge once their honeymoon was over.

After their delicious meals were consumed and the bills paid, the group of friends emerged onto the sidewalk, soaking up the warm sunshine before being cooped up in cars for many hours. They walked slowly to their vehicles, trying to postpone their separation as long as possible.

“Well, I guess this is the last time we’ll all be together until the trip next year,” Graham sighed, leaning against Liam’s car, while holding Ruby tightly.

“At least we’ll have some time with each other before you drop me and Belle off at the airport,” Ruby said, snuggling into his chest.

“Hey, we might live miles away from each other, but we manage to stay connected,” Will pointed out.

“Best friends always do,” Belle added, looping her arm through her boyfriend’s.

“And we do have a wedding to look forward to,” Elsa noted, smiling at Emma and Killian.

“Speaking of that, have you set a date?” Regina asked.

“We haven’t had time to discuss it yet,” Emma answered.

“Well, you’ll have over nine hours in the car today,” Liam said. “That should give you plenty of time to plan the entire wedding, reception, and honeymoon.”

The friends all laughed, exchanged hugs, and got into their respective vehicles, going their separate ways until they’d meet up again for next year’s destination dream wedding.

~*~*~

Notes:

The Georgia Queen was one of the riverboats we saw on the river in Savannah. We didn’t take a tour on it this time around though.

We didn’t intentionally go to Epworth by the Sea, but Jen and Marta drove through when Jen’s “Google woman” sent them off on the scenic route again. While it did add a bit of time to the drive to Krystal’s, it was a happy accident, as it was absolutely beautiful. Thanks, annoying Google woman who likes to prolong our car rides!

We also ate at Barbara Jean’s before heading to Savannah on our main day in that city. The food was delicious–including the she-crab soup that Marta ordered. We couldn’t resist having Graham place that particular order in the story for reasons that are probably apparent to anyone who knows Marta and her love of Graham. It didn’t make it into the story, but our waitress also gave us some fascinating Beauty and the Beast trivia.

And with that, the 2024 Girls’ Trip fic comes to a close! We hope you enjoyed our adventures told through our favorite characters’ destination wedding! See you next year for our (and their) next vacation!

~*~*~

Thank you again so much for reading and sharing! We'll see you next year!!!

#destination dream weddings driving disasters & dented derrieres #vacay fic #collab fic #krystal writes #snowbellewells #jrob64 #whimsicallyenchantedrose #art by joni

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laianely · 7 months ago

Note

"What would be the perfect starter....Rudolf's friend here".

"More like boss-"

*nudges Rudolph to shush*

Ahem.. ho ho ho,

It is I Santa, back to ask you more questions to curate you the perfect stocking. That is if Rudolph here doesn't eat it *gives Rudolph the stink eye*. First off Santa must say that your taste is truly impeccable (many are favorites of Santa themself, others Santa will check out during the summer or perhaps with a mug of cocoa after a long days work managing the gift center. Thanks to the lovely int-elves we have some ideas brewing up ho ho (man I really need to research other phrases Santa uses).

My researchers have come up with a couple more questions for you...

1. Do you have any favorite editors, fanfic authors or blogs (can be on any platform)?

2. What are your favorite seasons of the show and why would you say they are your favorites?

3. Is there anything your particular enjoy in an edit?

4. How do you feel about Christmas elements in your gift?

5. Who's you favorite music artist right now? If you can't pick go for a top 5 :))

That's all I've got for now. Santa will be in touch soon. Stay safe and happy!

Regards

CEO of gift enterprises

🎅

Hey Santa!

Thank you for your comments about my taste) I appreciate it! Hope you'll enjoy everything too!

I usually read different ffs from different authors. I don't know how to choose favorite) But I can highlight BelovedCreation, Kmomof4, Jrob64, phthalo. Editors: captainswan.every.ep , ouatslvr, aekillian, inejghafq

I like seasons 3-5 (except 4B), but I think that s5 is my most favorite. Captain Swan story in this season gave us a huge range of emotions - cute and lovely moments full of love with completely heartbreaking angst - and I love it.

Do you mean editing process?:) If I get it right then... hmmm... I think I like to highlight favorite moments, favorite characters with effects and songs. I like to think of transitions and mood that fit them. And also it's quite often when some songs give me like... movies and pictures in my mind. And I'm glad that I can show what's going on in my head :)

I love Christmas theme) It's always cute. So I'm absolutely okay with it.

Well... It's quite hard question, 'cause I listen a lot of different artists. Let's say... Neoni, Chris Grey, July Talk, Battle Tapes and... am I allowed to say The Hatters? 🙃

I hope these answers don't make any mess 😅

Have a good day and pet Rudolph for me 🙃

#csss #cssecretsanta2024

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jrob64 · 1 year ago

Text

Pet for Rent, Chapter 2/4 (The Idea)

A CS Modern AU Story

Thanks for joining me for chapter 2! Writing this story has been a bit therapeutic for me after losing my Zeke, and adopting Winston has been, too. I hope you'll stay with me for the rest of the story.

Shout out to @kmomof4 who sent Winston the ducky toy he has in the picture. His Aunt Krystal spoiled him with a welcome package the week we got him!

Thanks so much to @hookedmom. I'm lucky to have the best and most patient beta!

SUMMARY: Emma Swan tries to cheer up her heartbroken son by 'renting' a dog from the local animal shelter. When she attempts to do it a second time, she makes a mistake, and realizes the dog has been rented by someone else the same day - a very handsome man named Killian Jones.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Emma, Henry, Killian and Norman/Winston spend more time together. When Henry continues feeling sad about having to leave the dog at the animal shelter, Killian proposes an idea that might solve the problem.

RATING: M (for smut in the last chapter, which can easily be skipped if that's not your thing)

WORDS: 6821

ALSO POSTED TO Ao3 and FFN

Story begins under the cut

Emma didn’t think it was possible for four hours with a stranger to pass so quickly. Sooner than she expected, Killian was looking at his phone and announcing that it was time to return Norman to the shelter. It may have been her imagination, but it sounded like there was a note of wistfulness in his voice.

Henry took control of the dog on the walk back, giving the adults an opportunity to resume the conversation that had been ongoing throughout most of their time together. Emma watched her son handling Norman as he wandered from one side of the path to the other to explore in the tall grass and she commented, “Henry is gonna sleep good tonight.”

“I don’t doubt that. He told me he had his last game of the season this morning.”

“That, in addition to playing fetch and ‘keep away’ with Norman, and all of the running around he did with you, will have him zonking out early.” They walked on a few paces, before she added, “I want to thank you, Killian, for spending so much time with him. Since he doesn’t have a father, he doesn’t get a lot of one-on-one time with a man, so I really appreciate it.”

“It was my pleasure. He’s a good listener and a fast learner.”

“Yeah, I kinda wish he had more games left, so he could apply what you taught him. I’m afraid he’ll forget it by next season. You’re wonderful at teaching, and very patient.”

“Thank you, Emma. I truly did enjoy it.”

“The youth league is always begging for people to coach. Maybe you could do that next year.”

Killian looked thoughtful. “Perhaps I could, if I’m still here.”

“Any idea where would you go if you decide to leave?”

“Not really, but it wouldn’t be terribly far away. I want to stay close to Liam.”

When the shelter came into sight, Henry turned around and dragged Norman back to Emma and Killian. “I had fun today. Can we do this again?”

“I’ll have to check our schedule to see when we’ll have another chance to rent Norman,” Emma answered.

Henry shook his head. “No, I mean with Norman and Killian.”

“Oh, uh,” Emma stammered, glancing at Killian, who was scratching behind his ear. “I don’t know about that, kid. This was just an accident and Killian was nice enough to make the best of the situation.”

“But Mom, he had fun, too, didn’t you, Killian?”

“What did I tell you about putting him on the spot?”

“Sorry, Killian,” Henry apologized. “But it did seem like you were having fun.”

Killian reached forward to ruffle the boy’s hair. “It’s quite alright, lad, and you’re right - I had a very good time with you and your mother today. And Winston, of course.”

“You mean Norman,” Emma remarked.

“He still seems more like a Winston to me. Don’t you see the resemblance between him and England’s former Prime Minister?”

Emma took in the dog’s jutting lower jaw, drooping jowls and prominent forehead, and had to admit he did share some physical traits with Winston Churchill. “Yeah, now that you mention it, I do see it.”

“Anyway, at the risk of being too forward, it would be nice to have another day with you and your boy, if you’re amenable to that, Swan.”

Emma thought for a moment, then said, “Henry, why don’t you take Norman to the end of the path and give us a minute, okay?”

He started to protest, but seemed to think better of it. “Come on, Norman. Mom doesn’t want me to hear what she’s gonna say.”

Emma watched him go, her mouth agape over his comment. She heard Killian chuckle and turned to look at him.

“He’s quite a bright young man,” he laughed.

“Yeah, he’s getting too smart for his own good,” she agreed. “But he’s still a little boy and I’m a protective mom. I don’t want to promise him something that’s not going to happen, so if you’re not serious about doing this again…”

“I assure you, Emma,” he interrupted. “I wouldn’t dream of letting him down. If you’re willing to give me your contact information, I’ll send you some options and we can figure out a day that works.”

She eyed him critically for a few seconds, seeing nothing but sincerity in his expression. “I know Henry would really like that.”

“Only Henry?” he asked, quirking a brow.

She couldn’t help but smile. “I have to admit, I had a really good time today, too. So, um, to answer your question, I am, how did you say it, amenable to doing it again.”

His grin made her heart do a pleasant little flip. She made sure Henry and Norman were okay while waiting for Killian to pull out his phone and start a new contact. Once he did, he handed it to her so she could add her information.

After handing it back, they began walking again. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him checking the phone screen. “It’s not a fake number, by the way,” she said.

“That’s good to know,” he returned with a smirk, while typing out a text to her so she would have his info. “Is that something you’ve done before?”

“Maybe,” she replied cryptically.

“In that case, I feel honored that you gave me the real thing.”

She giggled in response, giving him a slight nudge with her elbow as they reached the end of the path.

“What did you say, Mom?” Henry asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Killian and I are going to look at our schedules to find a day that works.”

“Yay!” Henry shouted. “How about next Saturday?”

“Calm down, kid. I told you we’re going to figure it out.”

They arrived at the shelter and Killian opened the door and held it for them. David was sitting at a desk behind the counter, tapping away at the computer keyboard. He looked up with a broad smile when they entered. “How did it go?”

“Good,” Emma replied. “Thank you for allowing us to borrow Norman for the day.”

David looked between the two adults standing before him, obviously wanting more details. “Did you…all of you…get along okay?”

“Yes we did, Dave,” Killian said smugly.

There were several seconds when all they could hear was the barking of some of the dogs in the back. Finally, David sighed. “Alright, I guess I’ll just take Norman back to his cage, then.”

“Oh, uh,” Emma said, giving Killian a wink, “one of us will be in touch to schedule another day for us…all of us…to rent Norman again.”

David’s grin told them he knew exactly what that meant.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

“I hear you met my future brother-in-law,” Belle said. It was Monday, and Emma had stopped at the library to return a couple of books and choose some more before her shift at the sheriff’s station.

“News travels fast.”

“Killian always eats lunch with us after church. He told us about the mix-up at the animal shelter and said he had a great time with you and Henry.”

“He seems like a nice guy,” Emma said, moving to a shelf and studying the books more closely than necessary.

“He thinks very highly of you, too.”

Emma shot her a brief glance. “Oh, yeah? What did he say?”

“Well,” Belle began, clearly struggling to be non-chalant, “he said you were very easy to talk to and he enjoyed your sense of humor. He also said he had fun helping Henry with his soccer skills.”

“He was really good with Henry and I, um, I liked talking to him, too. He’s supposed to contact me to figure out another time to rent Norman together. Henry asked if we could.”

“I don’t suppose you protested too much, did you?”

Emma chose a book off of the shelf and studiously perused the summary on the back. “You know I want my kid to be happy.”

Belle crossed the space between them and laid her hand over the book, garnering Emma’s full attention. “To the best of my knowledge, you’ve never once introduced your son to a man you may be interested in dating in all the years I’ve known you.”

“Wait a second…first of all, I didn’t introduce him to Henry - we met accidentally, and secondly, who says I’m interested in dating him? We’re simply planning to rent Norman together again. It’s really not a big deal, Belle.”

“If you say so, but I have to tell you that I’ve never seen Killian so animated while talking about someone. You certainly made an impression on him.”

“I’m sure I did. Dressed in old sweatpants and a hoodie, no makeup, hair a complete disaster - I was a mess.”

“He didn’t mention that. He just talked about how he enjoyed the time he spent with you and how much he’s looking forward to seeing you again.”

Emma could feel her face heating and knew she must be as red as the leather jacket she was wearing. She wasn’t ready to admit that she was just as eager to see him again, too.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

That evening, Emma had just finished checking over Henry’s homework and shooed him off to the shower, when her phone dinged with an incoming text. Picking it up from the kitchen counter, she couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face upon seeing Killian’s name.

K: I’m hoping this message reaches Emma Swan. If I’ve reached someone else, you can blame it on her. It was followed by a smirking emoji.

She shook her head at his ridiculousness, and decided to play along.

E: I’m afraid you’ve been misled. This Emma Swan must be a horrible person. She added a winking emoji.

It took a few seconds for the three bubbles to pop up, then she laughed out loud when she read his reply.

K: Oh, she is a terrible, awful person to give me a fake number.

E: She’s probably not used to giving out her number to random men who just happened to rent the same dog she did.

K: That seems to be a plausible excuse. Perhaps I should forgive her.

E: Oh, you most definitely should.

K: Very well. If I’m ever fortunate enough to see her again, I shall grant her my forgiveness.

E: That’s very gentlemanly of you.

K: I’m always a gentleman.

Emma heard the clothes hamper lid slam in the bathroom, signifying that Henry was finished with his shower.

E: I need to get Henry into bed. I’ll be back in twenty minutes or so, depending on how resistant he decides to be tonight.

K: Tell him I said goodnight.

E: That will probably get him all excited and it may be longer than twenty minutes.

K: I’m willing to wait.

Emma left her phone on the sofa and went to Henry’s bedroom, where he was getting settled under the covers. Sitting on the edge of his bed, she brushed his damp bangs away from his forehead.

“Did you brush your teeth?”

“You ask me that every night.”

“Yes, and half the time you’ve neglected to do it.”

“I just have to brush them again in the morning.”

Emma raised an eyebrow at him. “Did you, or didn’t you?”

He sighed dramatically. “I did. Wanna smell my breath to make sure?”

“Not particularly. I believe you. Ready to say your prayers?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Name three things of thanks,” she said, initiating their nightly tradition.

Henry tapped his chin in thought. “I scored two goals at recess.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah, I used what Killian taught me. Oh! That’s my second thing - meeting Killian.”

“Actually, he texted me while you were in the shower.”

“He did? Did he say when we can rent Norman together again?”

“We haven't had a chance to discuss it yet. He did say to tell you goodnight.”

“Tell him I said goodnight to him, too.”

“I will. What’s your third thing?”

“Umm…we changed seats in class and now I’m sitting beside Avery.”

“Just make sure the two of you don’t get into trouble for talking too much.”

“We won’t.”

“Good. Now, what three things do you want to ask of God?”

“To help me do good on my math test tomorrow, to send me another dog, and to let us see Killian again soon.”

They both folded their hands and closed their eyes while Henry said his prayers. When he finished, Emma read him a chapter of Fantastic Mr. Fox, kissed him goodnight and left his room, turning off the light on her way out.

Picking her phone up from her couch, she scrolled through the text conversation with Killian, smiling at the light banter they shared.

E: I’m back.

When a response didn’t come through for a couple of minutes, she went to her bedroom to change into her pajamas. Then she brushed her teeth, washed her face, and applied moisturizer.

When she went back into the living room, she saw a new message on her phone.

K: Is it okay if I call you? I’m not fond of texting.

She noticed that the time stamp was right after she put her phone down, over ten minutes ago. Instead of answering, she brought up his contact and hit the call button.

“Hello, Swan.”

“Hey, sorry if I kept you waiting.”

“I was hoping I didn’t upset you by asking to call.”

“No, nothing like that. I just decided to do my nighttime routine,” Emma explained. “Henry said to tell you goodnight, by the way. I always ask him to tell me three things he’s thankful for from his day, and you were involved in two of them.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. He scored two goals playing soccer today at recess, because of what you taught him, and he was thankful for meeting you. That’s the third night in a row he’s said that one.”

“That’s very kind of him to say.”

“Well, you made quite an impression on him and he’s eager to see you again. Speaking of which, what does your schedule look like for the next few weeks?”

“It’s wide open, actually. Do Saturdays work best for you?”

“Yeah, because Henry is in school during the week and I work until five every day. I also work one Saturday a month. This coming Saturday is the one I work this month.”

“How about the following week?”

She switched him to speaker and pulled up her calendar app. “That looks good. Henry gets a haircut that morning at nine, but we could meet after that. The weather is going to start getting too cold if we wait much longer.”

“Liam has been telling me to be prepared for a cold winter. He says Maine is quite a bit colder than England during the winter months,” he stated. “Shall we make plans for that day, then?”

“Sounds good to me. Want to meet at the shelter at ten-thirty?”

“Actually,” Killian began, then paused for a few moments before clearing his throat and continuing. “I was wondering if you would agree to me picking up the two of you to go to the shelter together.”

Emma bit her lip, considering his offer. Her gut instinct was to decline because it would seem too much like a date, but her practical side said it was logical for them to make the twenty minute drive together.

She knew he was waiting for her answer and was probably having second thoughts about asking, since she was taking so long. “Um, sure, that would be fine,” she finally said. “I’ll text my address to you.”

“Okay, good. Shall we say ten o’clock? Will that give you enough time for Henry’s haircut?”

“Yeah. It only takes about twenty minutes, if that long. His barber is Jefferson and he’s pretty fast.”

“Liam recommended him and I had an appointment there a couple of weeks ago. He is fast, if a little…quirky.”

“Oh, you mean because he wears the top hat? I guess he’s trying to live up to the name of his shop.”

“Just naming his shop the Mad Hatter of Hair makes him sound a bit eccentric.”

Emma laughed. “He’s harmless, though. His daughter Grace is in Henry’s class and she’s very sweet. Jefferson is raising her by himself. His wife passed away before Grace started kindergarten.”

“How sad. Now I feel bad for judging him.”

“I wouldn’t say you were judging him, just making an accurate observation. I knew him before his wife died and he was every bit as quirky as he is now.”

They continued talking for another twenty minutes. Just like the day they met, the conversation didn’t lag at all as they transitioned easily from one subject to another. Before they ended the call, Killian asked if it would be alright to call her again later in the week and she agreed without hesitation.

Lying in bed that night, Emma smiled dreamily as she replayed their conversation in her mind. She may be venturing into self-imposed forbidden territory ever since Henry’s father abandoned her, but Killian Jones intrigued her and she couldn’t find it within herself to care.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Killian called Emma four more times over the next two weeks. Their conversations lasted longer each time, until they spent over an hour talking and laughing on Thursday, before their scheduled outing.

He suggested that they take Norman back to Storybrooke’s nature preserve after picking him up, which she thought was a great idea. She mentioned that she and Henry spent quite a bit of time there during the summer, hiking the trails and wading in the creek. Despite intending to visit, Killian hadn’t been able to get there yet and was happy to know his first time would be with Emma, Henry and Norman.

Saturday morning found him taking more time than usual to get ready. He chided himself for being a bit vain, but wanted to make the extra effort for the lovely lady Swan. If things went well, he was planning to ask her out on a proper date.

He had confided his intention to Belle, hoping she would give him advice about where to take Emma, should she agree. Not only did his future sister-in-law present him with recommendations, she also mentioned that she would be happy to watch Henry, and was sure Liam would, too.

Once Killian was satisfied with his appearance, he tried to occupy himself until it was time to drive to Emma and Henry’s house. After going online and paying some bills, washing the few dishes in the sink and sorting his laundry, he still had about twenty minutes left.

His heart sank when he heard the notification for an incoming text, thinking it might be Emma cancelling their plans. He was relieved, then a little apprehensive to see it was from his brother. Belle promised she wouldn’t say anything to Liam about his plans to ask Emma on a date, but they were an engaged couple and couples weren’t supposed to keep secrets from each other. Unfortunately, his former girlfriend hadn’t abided by that rule, since she kept one whopper of a secret from him.

L: Any plans for this afternoon, little brother?

Killian dropped his head back with a sigh. Not only did Liam insist on calling him that irritating moniker, now he had to explain that he did indeed have plans. He was sure he would have to answer questions about what they were and with whom, since he rarely did anything on the weekends.

K: Actually, I do.

L: Oh, really? What are you doing?

K: I’m renting Winston from the shelter again.

L: Great! Belle is working today. Would you mind if I came over to see the little guy?

Killian’s thumbs hovered over his screen, trying to decide how to tell his brother no without sounding rude. Even though Liam was acquainted with Emma, he tended to be over protective, and Killian didn’t want him giving her the third degree or making her feel uncomfortable. Plus, he selfishly wanted to spend time alone with her and Henry.

Glancing at the clock, he saw it was almost time for him to leave. Quickly, he typed a message he was hoping would appease Liam.

K: Sorry, not this time. Emma, Henry and I made plans to spend another day together with him.

As he pulled on his jacket, he heard another notification. Closing his eyes momentarily, he opened them to read Liam’s message, then released a relieved breath.

L: I hope the four of you have a good time, so I can see that look of happiness on your face again.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

“Henry, Killian’s here!” Emma announced, dropping the curtain after seeing his car pull up to the curb.

“Coming!” she heard him yell in response.

She quickly ducked into the bathroom and inspected her appearance in the mirror one more time. She hoped to make a better impression on Killian by applying light makeup and pulling her hair back into a neat ponytail. Her outfit was simple - jeans, sneakers, her favorite light blue blouse, and red leather jacket.

The doorbell rang as she re-entered the living room, but before she could get to the door, Henry sped past her to pull it open. “Hey, Killian!” he said excitedly.

“Hello, lad,” Killian answered, then shifted his eyes from Henry to Emma. She saw him swallow before giving her one of his winning smiles. “Good morning, Emma.”

“Hi, Killian. You’re right on time.”

“Not being prompt is bad form, Swan.” Looking at Henry again, he stated, “Your haircut makes you look a bit older.”

Henry reached up to run both hands along the sides of his head. “Do you really think so?”

“Aye, at least a year or two.”

“Please don’t say that,” Emma said, handing Henry his jacket. “He’s growing up way too fast as it is.”

During the drive to the shelter, Henry talked about one thing after another. Emma wondered if Killian would tire of her son’s constant chatter, but his questions at regular intervals proved he was fully engaged in what Henry had to say.

Meanwhile, she spent the time admiring the man beside her. He was dressed in dark, stonewashed jeans, an army green button-down shirt, and the same black leather jacket he wore the first time they met. His scruff was neatly trimmed and his dark hair artfully combed. His rich laugh at some of Henry’s comments was a sound she was sure she would never get tired of hearing.

When they entered the shelter, David gave them a smug smile that Emma tried to ignore. She knew he was probably patting himself on the back for his matchmaking, but she really didn’t mind, because meeting Killian was, so far, a positive experience.

Norman was extremely excited to see them again, and after everyone got into the car, they were on their way back to Storybrooke. Henry was preoccupied with Norman in the back seat, so the adults finally had a chance to chat with each other. Their conversation was as free-flowing as it had been every other time they spoke in the past two weeks. Emma had never met anyone so easy to talk to, and wondered if it was because their backgrounds were so similar.

During their earlier phone conversations, she learned his father had abandoned his family when Killian and Liam were little, leaving their mother to raise them alone. She shared how she was abandoned at a fire station baby box when she was less than a week old, and had never been adopted. They both had been in situations where they were deceived and misled by the person they loved. Emma came to realize that being able to empathize with someone else made it easier to connect with them, just as she had with Killian.

The crisp autumn weather was perfect for hiking at the nature preserve. They explored all of the available paths and walked along the shores of the creek. The water was too chilly for wading, but Norman enjoyed splashing in now and then when he spotted a particularly intriguing leaf, bug or stick.

After hiking for a couple of hours, they took a break to drink Gatorade and snack on protein bars, thoughtfully packed by Killian. He also had treats for Norman, which Henry used to try and teach the dog again how to sit on command.

They stayed until the last possible minute before getting into the car for the drive back to the shelter. No one spoke for several miles, until Henry finally said, “I really wish we didn’t have to take Norman back there. He’s always so sad. Why can’t we just adopt him, Mom?”

Emma glanced over at Killian, who met her eyes for a second before directing his back to the road. “I wish we could, but it wouldn’t really be fair to Norman. We’re both gone all day and he would have to be penned up that whole time.”

“But he loves us and we love him!” Henry exclaimed. “Ernie didn’t have to be penned up and he was fine during the day.”

Emma turned to look at her son. “I know, kid, but it was easy with Ernie. He was with us for several years and was older. Norman is young and full of energy, so he’s going to need a lot more attention and training. I wouldn’t trust him being in the house all day by himself.”

Henry heaved a huge sigh. “Okay.”

They were all silent for the rest of the drive. Emma saw Killian look at her out of the corner of his eye once in a while, but they didn’t carry on a conversation. She spent the time thinking about the practicality of adopting Norman, but knew she would have to stick to her guns, because it just wouldn’t be fair to the rambunctious dog to be cooped up all day.

When they reached the shelter and exited the car, Killian slowed Emma down by placing a hand on her arm, while Henry entered the building with Norman. “Emma, I’ve been giving it some thought and I have an idea, if you’re open to it.”

She shrugged slightly. “Sure, let’s hear it.”

“Perhaps, if you adopted Win-, er, Norman, I could keep him during the day while you’re at work and school. I could pick him up in the morning before you leave and drop him off after you get home.”

“Sort of like shared custody or dog sitting?” she asked, turning to face him.

He chuckled. “Aye, something like that, I suppose.”

“I don’t know, Killian. That seems like a pretty big commitment between people who barely know each other. You’re not even sure you’re going to stay in Storybrooke.”

He scratched behind his ear. “If I move, it won’t be for a while, since I signed a six month lease on my apartment. That would give us time to train the dog. I know we’ve just met, but I…I’ve enjoyed getting to know you and your boy. I’m hoping this is just the beginning of our friendship.”

Emma stuck her hands in the back pocket of her jeans and rocked back on her heels. “I hope so, too, but I’m still not sure about the arrangement you’re suggesting.”

“I completely understand,” he said, then paused before asking, “Are you counting it out altogether, or will you consider it?”

She pulled her lip between her teeth in thought for a few seconds. “I’ll consider it,” she finally answered.

He gave her a small smile, then moved to open the door for her.

They went inside to see Henry sitting cross-legged on the floor with Norman, the dog’s head resting on his leg. David was listening to the boy give him a detailed description of their day at the nature preserve and looked up to give them a big grin. “Sounds like you had quite the adventure today.”

“Aye, we all had quite a workout,” Killian responded. “It’s quite a lovely place.”

“Yeah, we’re lucky to have it in Storybrooke,” David said. “Mary Margaret takes her class there on a field trip every year.”

Henry’s head whipped around. “Mrs. Nolan didn’t take our class!”

“It’s early in the school year,” Emma said. “I’m sure she’ll take you sometime.”

“They usually go in the spring,” David explained, as he walked around the end of the counter. “Are you ready for me to take Norman?”

“No,” Henry said, his voice muffled as he buried his face in the dog’s neck.

The three adults exchanged understanding looks. They gave the boy a couple more minutes, before Emma picked up the end of the leash and put her hand on Henry’s head. “It’s time to say goodbye to him, kid.”

Henry drew back to look at Norman. “Goodbye, boy. I’m gonna miss you.” He kissed the dog on top of the head and rubbed his ears.

Emma reached down to pet the dog, then handed the leash to David. Killian stood beside her to pat Norman, too, telling him to be a good boy.

David bid them all goodbye, then headed to the back with the dog reluctantly following him. Henry looked up at Emma from where he still sat on the floor. “Mom…”

“Henry, don’t say it. I already told you why it’s not a good idea to adopt him right now.”

“Right now? Does that mean we can adopt him later?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Emma replied, giving him her patented ‘don’t push it’ look. “Let’s go, kid.”

With a long-suffering sigh, Henry pushed himself to his feet and followed her out the door Killian was holding open. Once they were in the car and on their way to Storybrooke, Killian asked, “Would you, um, would the two of you like to get a late lunch at Granny’s, when we get back?”

“What do you think, Henry?” Emma threw over her shoulder.

He turned from where he had been glumly staring out the window. “Can I get a cheeseburger and fries?”

“Sure.”

“And a chocolate milkshake?” When his mom didn’t answer immediately, he added, “Please? It’ll make me less sad about Norman.”

Killian chuckled lowly as Emma rolled her eyes, muttering, “I’m raising a con artist.”

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Killian mentally kicked himself the whole way back into town. What was he thinking, asking Emma to agree to what was basically a long term commitment? He probably ruined his chance for asking her out on a date, too. He was sure she would think he was coming on too strong, if he did.

At least she agreed to have lunch with him. Hopefully, she would also allow him to continue calling her. Those phone calls and the texts they shared were always the highlight of his week.

As much as he enjoyed his time with Emma, having Henry with them made it even better. Killian hadn’t had a lot of interaction with children, but it was easy being around Emma’s son. He was bright, articulate and funny - very much like his mother. He was also respectful and well-mannered.

On the day they met, Emma confided to him that she was afraid she was making a lot of mistakes as a single mom, who never had a mother of her own to set an example, but he strongly disagreed. She wasn’t perfect - no parent was, but Henry seemed to be well-adjusted and confident, so she was obviously doing many things right.

Killian saw how much Henry loved the dog and wished he could help make the boy’s desire to adopt him come true, which is why he made the offer. He had come to love the furry little rascal, too, and would seriously consider adopting Norman himself. He just didn’t know if he could take the dog with him if he decided to move away from Storybrooke.

He pulled up in front of Granny’s, cut the engine, unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door, as he heard Emma and Henry do the same. Typical of a young boy, Henry took off running and was already skipping up the steps to the front door by the time Killian reached Emma’s side.

“He’s pretty excited,” Emma explained. “Eating out is kind of a treat because we don’t do it very often.”

“I hope I wasn’t out of line for asking,” Killian said.

“No, not at all. It really perked him up.”

Killian halted at the bottom of the steps, causing Emma to stop and look at him. “I also hope I didn’t upset you by making the offer to watch Norman.”

“You didn’t,” she assured him. “I’m definitely going to think about it. I really miss having a dog around, too. I just have to weigh all the pros and cons.”

He smiled and nodded his understanding, then bounded up the steps to open the door. Henry was at the counter talking animatedly to Ruby, who looked up and gaped at Emma in surprise.

“Hey, girl! I didn’t realize you knew the very handsome new guy in town!”

Killian could feel his ears turning red, when Emma glanced at him before replying. “Hi, Ruby. Actually, we met by accident a couple of weeks ago.”

“By accident, huh? Did you hit him with your car or something?”

“Nothing like that. We were both renting the same dog at the animal shelter.”

“Was seeing him today another accident?”

Emma put her hands on her hips. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. It was planned this time.”

Killian wasn’t sure he had ever seen such a wide grin on the waitress’s face. They all gave Ruby their drink order, then Emma ushered Henry to a booth and Killian slid in across from them.

“Are you getting lasagna?” she asked.

“I think I’m going to try the grilled cheese and onion rings. Someone recommended them to me,” he smirked.

“Very intelligent person,” Emma grinned.

“Aye, that she is.”

Ruby arrived at their table with their drinks and Henry’s milkshake. She gave Emma and Killian another broad smile when she took down their identical orders. “His and hers grilled cheeses, huh? Maybe there’s some truth to the saying that couples begin to eat alike.”

Emma sighed and rolled her eyes. “I think the saying is that couples start to look alike, and we aren’t a couple. We’re just friends.”

“I see,” Ruby said, glancing at Henry, who was busy spooning the thick milkshake into his mouth. “Well, they do say there are benefits to being friends.” She gave them an exaggerated wink, then turned and made her way to the kitchen.

“Ruby isn’t exactly the epitome of subtlety,” Emma said, a blush filling her cheeks with color.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

“It was nice of Killian to take us to Granny’s today,” Henry said, as he was climbing into bed that night.

“Yes, it was. I was very proud of you for remembering to thank him without needing a reminder.”

“Thanks for letting me get a milkshake, even if it didn’t make me stop feeling sad about not being able to adopt Norman.”

Emma tucked the covers around his shoulders. “I know, but try not to think about it.”

“I can’t,” Henry pouted. “He’s probably crying himself to sleep tonight.”

“I think he’s probably going to sleep remembering all of the fun we had today.”

Henry stubbornly shook his head. “Nuh-uh. He’s wondering why we didn’t bring him home with us.”

“Henry,” Emma sighed, “I know you’re sad, but we just can’t…”

“I know,” he interrupted, “you keep saying it wouldn’t be fair for him to be alone all day, but he’s already alone at the shelter all day, except for Mr. Nolan, and at night, there’s nobody there at all.”

“There’s other dogs and cats…”

“That’s not the same. They’re all in cages by themselves. If we adopted him, he could sleep on my bed, like Ernie did.”

Knowing she was going around in circles with him, Emma reached over and picked up the book from his nightstand. “How about if you say your prayers after I read to you tonight?”

Heaving a dramatic sigh, he said, “Fine, but it’s not gonna make me forget about Norman.”

After reading to him for fifteen minutes, hearing his prayers - which mentioned Norman and Killian several times - and kissing him goodnight, she left his room. Heading into her own bedroom, she went through her nightly routine automatically, lost in thought.

Once she was in her pajamas, free of make-up and teeth brushed, she peeked in on her son to find him sound asleep. She made sure the front door was deadbolted, turned off the lights in the kitchen and living room and went back into her room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she stared at the phone in her hand, mind racing.

Finally, she pulled up Killian’s contact and hit the call button.

She was almost ready to hang up after it rang four times, not wanting it to go to voicemail, when he answered. “Hello, Swan. I wasn’t expecting to talk to you again so soon.”

“I hope I’m not calling too late.”

“Not at all. What’s on your mind?”

“Henry was still upset about Norman before he went to sleep. I feel like I’m being selfish by not allowing him to get a dog.”

“Why do you feel that way?”

“Because one of my excuses is that a dog is a lot of work and would need training, which it would. I’m making it seem like all the work would fall on me. Now, I know Henry is only eight, but I think he’s pretty responsible for his age.”

“From what I’ve seen, I would agree with that,” Killian cut in.

“Thank you. Anyway, I think he would be able to help train and take care of the dog, so that excuse is out the window. The other big concern I had is that the dog would have to be home by himself all day, which brings me to the reason I’m calling. I’ve been seriously considering your offer, if it’s still on the table.”

“It is.”

“Are you sure that’s not asking too much of you? I mean, you’re home during the day, but you’re working. How would you be able to take care of him?”

“I’ve had him here with me a few times already and he makes himself right at home. He’s housebroken and doesn’t demand too much attention. If he starts getting restless, I take him outside and play with him for a while. That works with my schedule because I have to take breaks now and then, when I’ve been staring at the computer screen for too long.”

She blew out a long breath. “What if it turns out to be too big of a commitment? We’ve spent some time together and have done a lot of talking to get to know each other, but we’re still basically strangers.”

“Well actually…” Killian began, then paused for several moments before continuing, “I was hoping to have an opportunity to ask you something today, but the right moment never presented itself.”

Emma’s heart began to beat faster in anticipation of what she suspected he might ask. “What did you want to ask?”

“Would you, um…would you consider going out with me?”

Standing up to pace back and forth between her bed and dresser, she chewed her lip in contemplation. She could literally count how many dates she’d had since Henry’s birth on one hand. She only went on those dates to appease Ruby, who was convinced Emma’s Mr. Right was out there somewhere, but she hadn’t been attracted to any of the men.

She couldn’t say the same about Killian. From the time she laid eyes on him, she felt an attraction that only got stronger the more she got to know him. He seemed to be the total package - kind, intelligent, considerate, and insanely hot.

“What happens if we adopt Norman, then go out with each other and realize we’re not compatible?”

“If you adopt him, I would keep my commitment to help take care of him, even if we decide dating doesn’t work for us. You have my word, Emma.”

She came to a halt at the end of her bed and turned to face the mirror above her dresser. For eight years, Henry had been her number one priority and always would be, but maybe it was time for her to do something for herself. Could that something be going out with Killian Jones?

She was so deep in thought, she didn’t realize how long she had been standing there considering her answer. When Killian finally spoke, his quiet voice startled her. “What do you say, Swan?”

“Yes, Killian. I will go out with you.”

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

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#pet for rent #chapter update #chapter 2 #jrob64 #art by jrob64 #csff #cs fluff #cs smut #CS modern AU #Captain cobra #ouat Captain Swan fanfic

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