#car lol only plus side about taking over this shift for my supervisor is I also get his go hide in the car or back office until it’s time to

[agenderarkham]

Mental illness moments in the car on your lunch is actually something so personal I think

[accio-ambition]

lighting up the path

a/n: Happy belated Valentine’s Day, Emily (@swan-road), from your really bad and really late CSSV. (Me. I’m the really bad CSSV. I’m sorry.) You asked for a fake dating AU and I tried my best. This can sort of stand on it’s own but, hopefully, I can add a second part in the near future. You know, when life calms down. It was such a pleasure talking to you and getting to know you even more. Hope this brightens your day!

I have never been to a planetarium, nor do I know how they work. But I have been to the Natural History Museum in New York, so I know they do have a planetarium and Neil deGrasse Tyson is the dude in charge there. That’s the extent of my knowledge.

He’s known her for far longer than he can recall – uni orientation seems so far in the past – when he realizes he’s failed her as a friend. Growing up with Liam and the ridiculous amount of clear night folklore and stories he told, Killian honestly doesn’t see how such an oversight is possible.

And yet, it is.

She’s never seen the stars.

Emma Swan has never seen the stars.

“What do you mean, never?”

She shrugs, shifting herself on the mattress to better look at him. “The places I was always placed in were in cities or the suburbs where it was too light all the time,” Emma explains.

It still hasn’t sunk in with him. “You’ve never seen the stars?” he asks again, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Broken record much?” she chuckles. “What’s the big deal?”

And when Killian takes a minute to think about it – what is the big deal about his love for stars? – it all comes back to having such good memories with his brother. The only person to completely love him, raise him, and tell him the stories of those that watch over them from the heavens.

From the tales she’s told, Emma never had anyone like Liam to so much as comfort her from nightmares.

“Swan, stars are whole new worlds,” he says, poking her in the shoulder for emphasis. “The skies open up and smile down upon you like…”

Emma grins at him and distracts him. Like that, he thinks. Just like that.

He shakes his head to bring him back on track. “You need to see the stars.”

Groaning, Emma rolls off the bed and moves to put her shoes on. “And how do you propose we go about that, huh?” she asks challengingly, raising a brow while she pulls on her shoe. “Neither of us have cars or money or time to drive anywhere to see them.”

“Those sound like the perfect reasons to follow the stars, love,” he tells her. “We’re young and stupid.”

“You’re stupid,” she quips.

He feels a silly endearing smile grow across his lips. “One day. One day soon, Swan.”

Her other shoe halfway on her foot, Emma glances toward him. “Is that a promise, Jones?” she asks him quietly.

Killian nods.

The first of many, I hope.

Though it might not seem it at first, it’s one of the most important promises he’s ever kept.

It takes a couple years – four and a half, to be precise – but his hard work pays off. Since Liam’s enrollment in the navy, Killian had wanted to follow in his big brother’s footsteps and take to the seas. But the stars – they had so much more to learn than he ever thought possible. And with their stories, he found himself falling into the past more often than not, so he picked up a few classes over the years. By the time he and Emma make it to graduation – together, as they’ve always been – he knows enough about history to write his own Hamilton.

(He doesn’t. Historical musicals are too in, he tells himself. But one day, maybe.)

Emma immediately gets an internship with the NYPD that leads to her promotion as an investigator once she’s finished the correct training, nearly in record time. Her hours are horrible and she gets beaten up more than Killian would ever wish for her, but she loves it, if her constant smile is any indication.

He’s managed to nab a part time gig at Panera to have some source of income and while he’s searching for a real job, Killian’s crashing in Liam’s old place rent free. She’s got a room with four other girls she met on Craigslist not too far away and, when they can, they grab pizza or Netflix the shit out of Making a Murderer.

Killian’s dreading getting ready for his evening shift when he finds the job opening of his dreams. An opening at the Hayden Planetarium. It’s a bit of a stretch for someone fresh out of uni, but he technically meets all of the job requirements and, at this rate, what does he have to lose?

He sends Emma a text, knowing full well she’s working, along the lines of lol, applied for a job at the Natural hist museum bc why not.

A few hours later, she responds with, HA dinners on me if you get it.

So he applies, hits the send button and walks out his brother’s apartment door to hopefully one of his last shifts at Panera.

(Should he get the planetarium job, he will miss the free fresh bread.)

It’s been close to a month since he nearly impulsively applied to the planetarium when one Regina Mills calls him. He’s walking to Panera, longing for the days when he’ll wake up excited to go to his job, when his phone rings.

I’ve got an interview, he texts her.

Swan must be in the bathroom or something because she immediately responds, Where?

Hayden.

Fuckin yes, Jones. That makes him laugh hard than he should as he’s waiting for a cross light to illuminate. Do you want me to come over and you put on a fashion show for me?

He doesn’t deign her a response. She shows up to his house with a six-pack later that night anyway.

Maybe it’s just his insane sense of optimism, but Killian knows before he truly knows that he’s been hired. He’s got a bubbling feeling in the pit of his stomach the day he gets the call, eating at the local Chinese restaurant with Emma across the tiny table from him. His phone lights up in the dark eatery and Killian feels his heart stop.

“Answer it,” Emma says around a mouthful of lo mein. “I’m just going to be eating my noodles.”

He’s barely said hello when his new advisor formally offers him the job. It’s a blessing that he’s rendered speechless because he wouldn’t be able to get a word in edgewise – she’s rattling off all this information and all he really understands is that Regina Mills needs an answer by the end of the week. He agrees to her terms even though he already knows his answer and says goodbye before the idea really begins to sink in.

Pressing the end call button, Killian slowly lets the ambient light of the restaurant consume him, still in the most honest form of shock.

“You got it, didn’t you?” Emma asks.

Killian smiles wide. “How could you tell?”

She tilts her head to the side, sending him an equally as endearing grin. “I knew you would,” she tells him confidently. Then, pointing at him with her chopsticks, she adds, “Plus, you have a stupid smile on your face.”

Scoffing, he retorts, “My smile is nothing less than dashing, Swan. You of all people should know that.”

(He detects a hint of a blush on her cheeks even through the low light and that makes him beam.)

“Shut up,” she quips. “When do you have to decide by?”

“The end of the week,” he responds.

She sighs and reluctantly sets down her chopsticks. “Well, congrats, Jones. Now I’ve got to go to the ATM.” Grabbing her purse, her mumbled “Don’t eat my noodles” can hardly be heard above Killian’s laughter.

Killian calls Ms. Mills back the next morning to formerly accept the position of assistant director of the Hayden Planetarium, one of the youngest ever in the position if his new boss is to be believed. She seems harsh – had seemed particularly intense when she sat down to interview him – but she exhibits a softer side when, as their conversation comes to a close, she invites him to an office potluck at the end of what will be his second week of work.

“It’s a monthly occurrence that we are dedicating to you this time,” she explains, her voice still sharp and relentless despite the casualness of the discussion.

“I am honored, Ms. Mills.”

“I expect your RSVP on Monday morning when you come into the museum. Eight o’clock sharp.”

“Aye, ma’am. Thank you again.”

Even from across the city, he can hear her annoyance toward him. “Stop thanking me, Mr. Jones,” she growls. “You’ve done the work to get the position, you don’t need to kiss my ass anymore.”

Thank goodness he’s already seated on the couch in his shitty apartment because, boy, was he unprepared for language like that from the respected Regina Mills. “Yes, Ms. Mills. Have a lovely weekend.”

And with that, he hangs up, still in disbelief. He’s got an excellent job to start in a field that he loves and a supervisor who apparently won’t take bullshit.

Sounds a lot Liam, funnily enough.

He chuckles at the thought while pulling up Emma’s contact information on his phone.

Come visit me on Tuesday when you get off.

She responds rather quickly by her standards. I don’t get off till 5.

Then come at 5.

Jones, that’ll be your second day of work.

She’s got a fair point. Though the few coworkers he’d met on his interview seemed polite, he doesn’t doubt for a minute that they would tattle on the new guy. And Ms. Mills has a stick up her ass for sure, so despite his qualifications, he’d probably find his ass fired if she finds an unauthorized person in the planetarium.

Still, he sends, Please, Swan. Because he needs to keep his promise now that he has access to the stars. Try something new? It’s called trust. It’s the new fad these days.

He can practically hear her scoff and see her eye roll. You’re an ass, she texts back. Fine. But if you get fired, you can’t blame me.

Never would.

He’s nervous all weekend about starting this new job, hardly eats a full meal and spends an ungodly amount of time on Sunday afternoon contemplating what to wear so as to impress but not to give off the air that he’s too good for this place. Because he’s not: this place is too good for him. He feels like an intruder. For god’s sake, Neil deGrasse Tyson is his boss.

Killian shows up ten minutes earlier than Regina told him to on Monday morning, too excited to wait another minute. The security guard lets him in, handing him his credentials as he passes through the metal detector. He flawlessly finds his way to the little hole in the wall that Regina said would be his office, and settles in with a goofy smile on his face.

He’s going to have to get used to this. He has no intention of moving jobs any time soon.

By the time the museum and planetarium close on that Monday, Killian’s swapped with research to do and already in progress projects to jump in on and he’s never felt so giddy in his life.

 His phone rings as he emerges from the subway station and Emma’s face smushed against a piece of glass pops up on his screen. With a grin, he picks up.

“Hi honey,” she greets him jokingly. “How was your first day of work?

“Lovely, thank you for asking.”

“Did you make any new friends?” she asks.

“Not quite yet, but all in due time, Swan.” He crosses the sidewalk and heads to his apartment building. “Remember, tomorrow when you get off. I’ll show you the stars.”

“They better be out of this world, Jones,” Emma says with a giggle.

“I’ll let that pun pass, just this once, Swan,” he retorts.

“Thank you, kind sir.” He hears her inhale and sigh. “Alright, I’ve got to go back to work. I just wanted to see how it went.”

“I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow in person,” he tells her. “How about that?”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you then, Jones.”

“Be safe, Swan.”

“Always am.” And then she hangs up on her own, leaving Killian with a satisfied, if not tired feeling sinking into his bones.

Tuesday morning, he only shows up five minutes early and quickly gets to work in his little office. He’s hoping to get all his tasks done and have a bit of a chance to play with the astrolabe before Emma swings by. He knows enough – surprisingly enough, he can more or less operate one thanks to schooling and YouTube tutorials – but she’s never seen the stars. He doesn’t want his own incompetence to ruin her first gaze.

Somehow, he manages to wrap up all his work by quarter after four, a full half hour before Emma texts him that she’s on her way earlier than expected. Killian hasn’t a clue how visits work here, so he tells her to come through the back way, the faulty emergency exit door where Keith and Loren go out to smoke, not too far from his cubicle.

He knows Emma’s arrived when he hears the door begin to shake vigorously. Killian hurries to let her in because he knows Swan isn’t averse to kicking down the door. Hopefully not to one of New York’s most beloved and oldest buildings, but honestly, he wouldn’t put it past her.

Her banging gets louder and louder as he approaches, until he shoves it open and Emma’s slightly stunned face greets him.

“Hi,” she whispers, sneaking in the door.

With a big smile, Killian takes her hand and closes the door softly. “Hello, love.”

“Am I in trouble or something?” she asks unexpectedly.

Brows furrowed, he says, “No, why would you think that?”

She shrugs. “You’re sneaking me in the back and we’re whispering.”

“I’m whispering because you were whispering,” he answers with a chuckle. “C’mon, there’s a lot to see and I don’t know how much time we’ve got.”

As he gently tugs Emma along the hallways, she inquires, “What are we doing?”

Killian refrains from answering until they stand on the precipice of the planetarium itself. He turns to her, carefully walking backwards down the gradient aisle, pulling her along with him.

“Five years ago, you told me you’d never seen the stars,” he reminds her, her slight chuckles egging him on. “And I promised you that, one day, I’d change that.”

“Killian, what are you doing?” she asks again, and still he doesn’t answer. He’s brought her down to the middle of the room, right next to the globe projector. With a silent plea to stay where she is, he runs back up the aisle and presses a few buttons on the motherboard.

The room goes dark.

And the stars light up.

Emma’s still looking at him, her head cocked to the side as her tongue peeks out from between her lips. She’s trying to hide her smile to no avail.

Walking once more toward her, Killian points to the ceiling. “Look up, Swan,” he announces. “See the stars.”

She shakes her head until he’s in front of her, then takes his hand in hers. And then she looks up.

Her mouth drops.

“Oh wow,” she murmurs. “There’s so many.”

Killian nods, taking in the image of Emma taking in the night skies as they should always be, in his humble opinion. He watches her eyes flit around the entirety of the room, the projected stars reflecting bright against the green of her iris.

Beautiful, he thinks. And he’s not sure which one his conscience is describing, the stars or the woman before him.

“Those ones are in a straight line,” she observes absently. Quickly, Emma glances back down to earth before pointing at the collection of three stars she’s talking about.

“That’s Orion’s belt,” Killian explains. “They’re sometimes called the three kings or the three sisters.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, it goes back to the Middle East, when they first started recognizing and naming constellations,” he says. “Even though the three stars are three of the brightest in the winter time, they don’t appear in the sky until early January, around the feast of the Epiphany, where the three kings brought gifts to baby Jesus. In ancient times, they were often used to mark time.”

Emma hums, then looks at him again. “And this Orion fella,” she says. “Does he only wear a belt?”

Unable to help himself, Killian laughs heartily. His Emma would think of that in that particular manner. “In Greek mythology, Orion was a hunter who was honored by Zeus at his death and put into the stars to guide wanderers.”

“Huh,” she harrumphs. “He could’ve done a better job when I was a kid.”

Her statement is a bit of a mood killer – which Emma is entitled to whenever she wants, in his book – but the stars have given him so much, and he wants nothing but the same for her. So he quickly locates another constellation and begins to tell the story behind it.

“Do you see that star there?” he asks her, his finger pointing in a different direction. “The bright one that looks a little too white?” He feels more than sees her nod, feels the tendrils of her hair brush against the hair on his jawbone. “That’s called Deneb. It’s the brightest star in the Cygnus constellation during the summer and fall.”

“A swan?”

“Aye, a swan.” Killian gulps at what he’s going to say next. He wants to tell her that, from the moment he met her, he associated the constellation with her. The strength and the ferocity of the animal itself and the warrior-attitude of the mythological characters for which the collection of stars is named are all reflected within Emma’s spirit and story.

He truly intends on recounting that to her because she needs to know, when the stars disappears and the lights stutter on.

“Mr. Jones, the museum is closed now.” It’s the foreboding voice of his supervisor, the sternness in her voice causing his shoulders to hunch and his hackles to rise.

He briefly glances at Emma’s wide eyes before sighing and saying, “I understand, Ms.-”

“Miss.” She’s addressing Emma specifically, her strides casually approaching them with her arms crossed over her chest. “Mr. Jones will be back here tomorrow during business hours. You may come back and discuss the stars with him then.”

Killian lies quickly. Emma’s taken enough shit in her life: he won’t let her take more on account of his stupidity. “Ms. Mills, this is my lovely girlfriend, Emma Swan,” he says, gesturing between the two women. “I apologize for not introducing you earlier.”

That stops Regina short, her hair bobbing with the dip of her head. “What are you doing here?” she asks.

As she tends to do, Emma hops on his train of thought. “I just got off work and we were going to go get something to eat,” she lies easily, charming smile on her lips. Gently nudging his body aside, she sticks her hand out to his supervisor. “Nice to meet you.”

“A pleasure.” Her distaste registers with both him and Swan – he can tell by the way she steps back, nearly nipping his toes. “Mr. Jones failed to inform me of any relationship.”

Standing next to Emma, Killian carefully takes her hand in his. “I fail to see how that is any of your business, Ms. Mills,” he growls.

Regina smirks, making his heartbeat speed up in concern. “You only RSVP’d for one,” she tells him. “I should think you’d want to bring your girlfriend to our office potluck next week.”

His jaw drops like an anchor. Of course he had said only he would come to the potluck because he doesn’t have a girlfriend. He nearly mumbles an expletive, completely giving away their plot when, once again, Emma swoops in to save the day.

(As much as he knows he saves her, his Swan does her fair share of saving his sorry ass too.)

“I had to work, but I’ve managed to switch shifts,” she says happily. “Special for this shindig.”

“Really?” he asks in surprise.

Emma gives a small shrug. “I was going to surprise you over pizza,” she murmurs with a shy smile. “Surprise?”

He reasons that it’s part of the act they’re portraying – that he can’t help but lean over and press his lips to her temple. “A lovely surprise, Swan,” he mumbles against her forehead.

Still smirking, Regina spreads her arms wide. “What a nice change in plans,” she exclaims. “I look forward to speaking with you again at the potluck, Ms. Swan. Have a good evening.”

And with Emma’s “Likewise” farewell, his supervisor struts back up the planetarium’s aisle and leaves them alone.

Killian barely realizes his hand is still in Emma’s, and that he’s still lingering closer than he’s ever really been before, their interconnecting hands caught between his chest and her side.

He sighs, pulling away ever so slightly. “Thank you for covering for me.”

“Thanks for giving me an out,” Emma chuckles. While wincing, she asks, “You won’t get in trouble, will you?”

Killian shrugs. “Maybe, but that’s my cross to bear.” Finally, he drops her hand and wipes his own on the side of his pants. He’s nervous, which makes his palms sweat, and that’s not attractive or comfortable for anyone involved. Bashfully, he follows the steps of his supervisor back to the motherboard. “You don’t have to come to the party thing, you know.”

“Yes I do.” The vehemence in Emma’s voice causes him to turn around. She’s got her hands on her hips and a fierce fire in her eyes. “You’ve got a reputation to uphold and I’m not going to let you down,” she spits out, throwing her hand out toward him.

Taking a step back to her, Killian raises an eyebrow. “You know that means you’ll have to spend an entire evening talking with my colleagues about space rocks and the Hope Diamond and the average life span of a species of cat that’s been dead for three hundred years?”

She nods without hesitation, so Killian takes another step toward her, cocking his head to the side. “You know that means you’ll have to spend the entire night pretending you like me,” he reminds her. “Holding hands, arms around the waist, coming and leaving together? Things couples might do?”

Emma giggles as if what he’s just said isn’t a problem, couldn’t possibly ruin the relationship and friendship they both rely heavily on. She saunters up to him and takes his hand once more.

“You’ve shown me the stars, Killian,” she tells him earnestly. “The least I can do is pretend I like you a little more than I do.”

He’s not convinced with her words, especially not with the way she bites her bottom lip after she says it. He knows Emma quite well and though she always says she can tell when he’s lying, he’s not quite sure that she’s just as open a book to him.

Because she’s lying. And given the context of her last words and the situation they’ve found themselves in, he’s afraid to hope what she’s lying about.

“We can sneak back in here during the party,” Killian suggests, leaning closer to her. “Really get a feel for the Milky Way.”

Her nose scrunches up as she smiles. “Is that a promise, Jones?” Emma asks quietly.

“Yes,” he whispers. “One of many more to come.”