#csff

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Sleeps Ten, My Ass (2/2)

Summary: It's become tradition for Emma Swan to spend the holidays with her brother, their cousins, and their families. This Christmas was no different. The group booked a four night stay at a cozy mountain cabin to celebrate. The listing said it sleeps ten, but upon arrival they discover a small issue. The listing was wrong and now Emma and Killian Jones, the only two single people within their group, have to spend the next four nights sharing a bed. Fortunately... they've shared a bed before.

A/N: @eastwesthomeisbest I'm sorry this Part Two took a little longer to get to you than I'd planned, but I hope you'll find it worth the wait! Again, it was lovely being your CS Secret Santa!! I hope you have a wonderful 2025!!

For the rest of my readers, I started over with my Curious Crew Tag List (which I typically do at the first of the year). Although I'm pretty sure I've added everyone who told me to date that they wished to be added, if I missed you (SORRY) or you wish to be added, please let me know!!

Thanks to @kmomof4 for looking this over for me and to the @cssecretsanta2020 for once again hosting a fantastic event. Side note, this fic also completes my Only One Bed: Holiday Edition square for the CS Winter Bingo!

Rated E / Also available on ao3 / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me! / Part One

Part Two

“Merry Christmas!”

Emma clinked her mimosa against the glasses of her family and friends then settled onto the sofa next to her brother. Taking a sip of the bubbly beverage, she perused the room and let the early morning alcohol warm her from the inside as the fireplace beside her took care of the outside.

Much as Killian had done for her last night.

Shaking off that thought - and the remnants of the dreams she’d had where he’d kept her warm in other ways - Emma tucked her legs beneath her and gave Liam her attention as he passed out the gifts.

The couples tended to exchange gifts with one another in private before they met as a group, and Emma imagined this year was no different. The gifts Liam was handing out were the ones each of them had brought for a specific member of their group. Every Thanksgiving they drew names at random so each person only had to buy something for one other person. Then, Christmas morning, they would all open their gifts and reveal who had bought for whom.

Emma was grateful that she did not have to buy something for everyone, but she did not enjoy the fact that they opened the gifts one at a time while the rest of the group watched, making the person unwrapping the center of attention.

Well, the person unwrapping and the person who had gifted it.

“David, I love it!” Elsa praised with a laugh, holding up the lightweight sweatshirt for everyone to see.

Printed across the front in bold lettering, it read: No. I don’t need a coat. The cold doesn’t bother me.

“That’s perfect,” Liam chortled, already tearing his gift open.

And around the room they went. After Elsa was Liam, then Kristoff, then Anna, who Emma had drawn and gifted a pair of boots she’d known her cousin had been wanting. When Anna was finally done gushing over them, Emma began to open her gift.

“So… who will I be thanking for this…” She’d gotten the rest of the paper off and the lid to the box open when her words fell away as she looked over the myriad of items within.

“It’s a, uh...” Killian cleared his throat and pawed at the patch of skin behind his ear as he went on to explain. “It’s a sort of… winter stake-out care package, I guess is what you’d call it.”

Emma began lifting the items out of the box as Killian described them and the thought process behind his selecting each one.

“I’d noticed earlier this month when we all got together for that holiday festival that you needed a new beanie,” he said as she slipped the hunter green beanie onto her head and then pulled out a pair of soft gloves. “Now, I know you don’t tend to wear gloves on a stake-out because they get in the way of you taking photos or making notes on your phone, but with these you can slip the individual fingertips off so your hands can stay warm while you still have use of your finger pads.”

Emma tested them out whilst he explained their function, loving the ease with which she could quickly bare her thumbs and fingertips. They would certainly come in handy, as would the next item.

“A portable electric kettle,” Killian informed the group when more than one of them had murmured an inquiry about the item in question. “You just add water and plug it into the cigarette lighter in your vehicle and it’ll boil in less than 90 seconds. It also serves as a thermos once you’ve heated the water.” Killian lifted his chin in a pointed gesture and added, “There’s some hot cocoa packets and instant coffee in there as well.”

“This is…” Emma began, somewhat at a loss of what to say.

“Do you like it?”

Emma’s eyes jumped to Killian’s which were filled with a hesitant anticipation; his brows furrowed as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“I do,” she answered, smiling softly at him. “This was all so thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, Swan,” he replied, a bright smile adorning his lips as he let out a heavy breath of relief.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mary Margaret elbow David in the ribs. No doubt it was an attempt to keep whatever snide comment he had at the ready about her occupation from falling out of his mouth. Emma knew her brother did not approve of her line of work. In truth, most of them didn’t. The only one who never gave her a hard time about it, who never questioned her abilities or capability, who only ever asked about it out of genuine curiosity and interest, and without an ulterior motive to somehow diminish her success or exaggerate the dangers, was Killian.

Emma tried to focus on the remaining gifts being opened by the rest of their group, but her mind kept circling back to her own. The way Killian had noticed the state of her beanie and how he inherently knew and understood the reason why she tended to not wear gloves, despite her having the opposite reaction to the cold from her cousin.

The cold did bother her. It always had.

The contrast of her and Elsa’s response to it had always been a source of amusement within their circle. As evidenced by David’s gift to Elsa and past comments made regarding the issue. It struck Emma, in that moment, that Killian had never taken her objection to the cold lightly. From the beginning, he had always made sure she was comfortable. Warm. Content.

Like last night. Like many times before. Like with his gift. Making sure she’d be warm and comfortable during the long, wintery nights whilst on a stake-out. The way he’d made sure she was warm that night. The night in the Caribbean when a cool ocean breeze had met her damp skin - sweat soaked from dancing in a crush of people - and she’d shivered, her slip of a dress, which left little to the imagination, unable to combat the chill as goosebumps erupted over her entire body.

She could still feel the soft fabric of Killian’s jacket around her shoulders, the warmth it transferred from his body to hers, his scent lingering on the collar and intoxicating her sinuses in the same way the rum had infused their blood. The memory of the heat of his hand, pressing against the small of her back as he walked her to her cabin made Emma shift in her seat, as did the whisper of his hot breath against her neck when she recalled the words he’d murmured into her ear.

“I’ll keep you warm, love. Just say the word and I’ll make you burn until morning. It would be both our pleasure, I swear it.”

He had been good to his word.

So, so good.

“Who's ready for breakfast?”

Mary Margaret’s inquiry, which signaled the end of the gift giving portion of the day, shook Emma from her thoughts. Her highly inappropriate thoughts. Thoughts that had caused her cheeks to grow hot and blush pink; a fact she hoped no one had noticed.

“You look a bit flushed, Swan,” Killian commented on their way to the dining room - much to Emma’s mortification. “I guess my gifts are doing their job.”

Unable to meet his eye, Emma swiped the new beanie off her head and peeled the gloves off her hands. “Yep. I’m nice and toasty now. Thanks.”

“Anytime, love,” he replied in a deep, quiet timbre. Was she imagining the mixture of promise and longing in his words? Was he merely being his usual cheeky self, or was he reminding her of all the ways they could produce heat together… and his willingness to explore them with her?

“Who needs a refill?” Elsa offered, holding up the bottle of champagne and the pitcher of orange juice.

“Me!” Emma responded, hurrying towards the island with her champagne flute and receiving the first of many, many refills she’d imbibe that day.

~/~

This was a bad idea. No, it was a great idea, but it was also, potentially, a very, very bad idea.

It had been Anna’s idea. Which wasn’t the reason it was a bad one. It was actually a really good one. After a long day of cooking and drinking and eating and games and drinking and cleaning and drinking, her cousin had suggested they end the evening with a soak in the hot tub.

Which was a terrific idea, except… wearing nothing but her bikini, in a hot tub, with Killian Jones, also in his swimsuit, with his hair curling from the steam and water droplets clinging to his chest hair and pooling in the hollow of his throat while she - and the rest of them - continued to polish off the bottles of champagne that never seemed to end was a very, very bad idea.

But when had a bad idea ever stopped her before?

Especially when said bad idea had actually crossed her mind days before when she’d packed her bag. More specifically, the tiny, red, string bikini she’d worn during their cruise vacation. But no, she absolutely did not choose to pack this particular bikini because she remembered the look on Killian’s face and the hunger in his eyes when he saw her in it the first time on the pool deck. The same hunger that was threatening to devour her from a darkened, forget-me-not gaze across the hot tub.

Okay, maybe she did pack this particular bikini on purpose with this particular scenario in mind.

The idea wasn’t the only thing that was bad. Emma was also being bad. Very, very bad. And she wanted to do bad things. Very, very bad things with the man she found herself alone in the hot tub with after all their family and friends had decided to turn in about an hour after they’d first all got in.

“D’you wanna stay inna bit longer or turn in,” Killian asked with a heavy tongue from all the alcohol he’d consumed over the course of the day.

The same amount that was currently coursing through her veins and causing her to want to act on her very, very bad ideas.

“Prolly should turn in,” she replied in an equally tipsy tone. “M’ry Marget wants to head out early for after Kissmas shopping.”

Another loathsome tradition, but one Emma complied with for her sister-in-law’s sake. She wasn’t much for bargain hunting, but she knew what the bonding time together meant to the woman who had married into a sisterhood (despite Elsa and Anna actually being Emma’s cousins) after being an only child all her life and an orphan for the greater part of it.

“Right then,” Killian said, standing from where he’d been lounging in the corner and offering her a hand up. “We should get you to bed, love.”

Taking his hand, Emma stood, then immediately lost her footing and fell into his wet, firm chest. His arms circled her waist, his inebriation making him a bit clumsy and the slickness of their skin causing one of his hands to inadvertently land a bit too low. Palming her ass cheek may have been an accident, but the way his grip tightened, his fingers digging into her skin as he prompted her hips forward was not.

Nor was the way she responded, bringing herself flush against him as their lips, teeth and tongues met with fervor. He groaned into her mouth when she raked her nails down his back, then reached up and wrapped his other hand around the back of her neck.

“I want you,” he breathed, the much needed air secondary to the words he seemed desperate to convey.

“I want you, too,” she told him before suddenly finding herself in his arms, being carried out of the hot tub and into the cabin. After setting her down by the dying embers of the fire, he grabbed a nearby towel and wrapped it around her.

“I’m gonna shut off the hot tub and close things up,” he informed her. “Wait for me in our room?”

Emma nodded, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she headed for the stairs. Glancing back over her shoulder, she giggled at the way he hurriedly - and drunkenly - took care of the tasks so he could follow after her. He didn’t keep her waiting long. No sooner had she finished drying off - still clad in her bikini, so not completely dry - and taking her hair down from the high bun she’d pulled it into so it would stay out of the water, than he came through the door like a man on a mission.

His mission, it seemed, was to pick up where they’d left off. In less than a second she was back in his arms, their hands indulging in the vast expanse of exposed skin while their mouths fought to devour the other.

“You’ve no idea what seeing you in this bikini does to me,” he growled against her lips, his fingers toying with the knotted strings tied at her back.

Reaching between them, Emma cupped his hardness through the thin, damp fabric of his trunks and hummed into his mouth before murmuring, “Actually, I think I do.”

“We’re drunk,” he stated, pulling back slightly while his hands gripped her hip and grazed her back.

“W’are,” she slurred, flicking her gaze up to his. “Your point?”

“We were drunk last time, too,” he reminded her, sloppily. “I’ve always regretted that.”

“Regretted it?”

“Not what we did,” he clarified, his fingers brushing up her side, over the back of her shoulder, then back down her arm. “I regret I wasn’t in complete control of my faculties when I took you. That the details of you, naked and quivering beneath me, are hazy in my memory because of the alcohol clouding them.”

Emma cupped his length harder, pulling a grunt from the depths of his chest and causing his eyes to slip shut as his lips parted in pleasure. “Will that regret keep you from taking me again?” she asked, kneading the underside of his balls with her fingertips. Reaching up on her tiptoes, she gripped his earlobe between her teeth, eliciting a sharp intake of breath that interrupted the moans vibrating up his throat. “Will that regret keep you from allowing me the pleasure of being taken?”

Killian jerked his head away, her teeth scraping against the lobe of his ear. A growl rumbled in his chest as he pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes dark and piercing despite the alcohol hooding his gaze.

“Absolutey the fuck not,” he declared in a tone that curled her toes and nearly made her knees give out.

With a series of sharp tugs, he undid the knots that had kept her bikini top secured, then tore the flimsy piece of fabric from her breasts so his mouth and hands could replace it. Clutching his head to her chest, Emma gasped and wrapped her legs around his waist when he managed to lift her, one handed, so he could carry her to the bed. He probably would have deposited her on the mattress with more finesse had he been sober, but Emma wasn’t complaining, not when he sank to his knees at the end of it and began divesting her of her bikini bottoms with his teeth.

She wasn’t sure whether she said them out loud, but the last coherent words to flow through her consciousness before his tongue began its assault on her sex were, we really ought to do this sober at some point.

~/~

“Got our to-go coffees!”

Emma groaned, her head resting against her arms which were crossed on top of the table they’d just finished having breakfast on. If you could call a slice of dry toast breakfast, that is.

She really shouldn’t have drank so much the day before.

She hated to think how much worse her hangover would be if, after their… relations, Killian hadn’t insisted they both take an aspirin and chase it with a large glass of water before crashing.

Yet another thing to be grateful to Killian Jones for.

And he had given her many, many things to be grateful for last night.

Of course, she’d given him her fair share as well.

Not that she should be thinking about any of that now, especially when thinking in general was causing her head to pound.

“Here,” Elsa said, prompting Emma to sit up and take the to-go cup being offered to her. “I slipped a little hair of the dog in it for you.”

Emma glanced down to where Elsa was brandishing the flask she had tucked away in her purse, a very Jones-esque smirk pulling at her lips.

“Your brother-in-law is a bad influence,” Emma chortled, then winced at the way the action made her stomach gurgle.

Elsa laughed and stood, prompting the rest of the table to follow. The four women made their way out of the diner and towards the shops that were just beginning to open for the after Christmas sales. Emma took a large gulp of her doctored coffee, willing it to sustain her these next few hours. She was gonna need all the help she could get.

“Emma,” Elsa said quietly, as they milled around the third - or was it the fourth - shop of the day.

When Emma glanced over at her, Elsa tilted her head towards the corner, indicating a more private place to chat, and Emma, curious, followed her cousin.

“What’s up?” Emma asked, noting the discomfort and hesitation Elsa was struggling with.

“It’s just…” Elsa began, tentatively. “I know you were joking before, when you said Killian was a bad influence, but…”

“But?”

Elsa’s cool blue eyes locked onto Emma’s. She knew that look. It was the same look David would give her when he was about to go all I’m-telling-you-this-for-your-own-good, trust-me-I-know-what-I’m-talking-about, slightly insufferable, older brother on her.

“He isn’t a bad guy.”

Stunned, Emma blanched and assured, “I know that.”

“I mean,” Elsa continued. “I know David thinks he has a reputation of being a ladies’ man, and has written him off as a ‘bad boy’, but Killian isn’t actually like that.”

“Okay,” Emma drawled, suddenly very uncomfortable with where this conversation might be going. “Why are you tell--”

“Because… He talks about you all the time,” Elsa told her. There was something in her tone that alerted Emma to the fact that her words might be considered a betrayal, but she’d decided to place her loyalties with her cousin rather than her brother-in-law. “He asks about you when it’s been awhile since we’ve all gotten together. I really… I really think he has a thing for you, and I wouldn’t want any misconceptions to get in the way of you possibly--”

“Elsa, stop.”

Emma couldn’t listen to anything more her cousin had to say. It was too much. Too much to hope that this… whatever it was between her and Killian, was more than some ‘dalliance’. More than an itch he felt the need to scratch or some challenge he wanted to conquer.

More than just another notch on his bedpost.

“Look,” she said, her tone not quite as snappy as it had been. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you don’t have to defend Killian to me. I know he’s a decent guy, and I…” Emma wasn’t sure what else to say without giving away her feelings, something she was barely ready to do with herself, and nowhere near ready to admit to anyone else.

“Right,” Elsa said, letting Emma off the hook. “Well, I’m glad we got that sorted. I just… Now that Liam and I are married, the Jones brothers are a permanent fixture in our lives and I--”

“I know,” Emma interjected, wishing to end the awkward conversation. “I get it.”

“Do you?” Elsa asked, stepping a bit closer. “Emma, Killian isn’t going anywhere. I know you keep your guard up because you’re afraid of being wrong about him, but… give him a chance? I really think he just might surprise you. In the best way.”

Elsa’s words lingered in Emma’s mind for the rest of the day, as did nearly every interaction she’d ever had with Killian over the past several years. If what Elsa had said was true, that Killian had genuine feelings for her, then why hadn’t he ever made a move?

Granted, in the early years of Elsa and Liam’s relationship, he only came around a couple of times, but he had been a solid member of their group for at least the past two. Yet, he’d never given her any indication of being serious about her. Sure, he flirted and made suggestive comments and did outrageous things with his eyebrows and tongue, but he did that with everyone, right? Even David and Kristoff.

He didn’t have their preferred drink at the ready when they inevitably showed up late, though. Nor did he buy them thoughtful gifts that affirmed and supported their chosen profession. He also did not gravitate towards the rest of them like he did her. And she to him.

He didn’t look at any of them the way he looked at her. In fact… She could not recall a single time they’d been together when she’d seen him look at another woman that way. Not even on the cruise when there had been no shortage of beautiful women in revealing, eye-catching outfits. Not even when those women had come onto him, slipping their room numbers, phone numbers, and who knows what else into his pocket.

Surely, given the fact that he was gorgeous and charming and sexy as hell - don’t get her started on the accent - and had women throwing themselves at him, he had no trouble keeping his date book full and his bed warm. It’s not like he’d been pining after her all this time.

Right?

~/~

The ladies got back to the cabin later than they’d planned. Initially, the group was going to make do with the leftovers for dinner, cleaning out the fridge and making sure nothing went to waste before checking out the next day. However, the shopping and bonding and girl-time had led to them informing the guys that they’d be dining out instead and to not wait up.

Emma - despite the internal turmoil and lingering questions her conversation with Elsa had left her with - had actually enjoyed the day with her cousins and sister-in-law. So much so that it might have been her idea to ditch leftovers with the gents and treat themselves to a lovely meal at the bistro they’d walked by several times during their shopping ventures through the town.

Was a small part of that suggestion due to the fact she wasn’t ready to face Killian?

Yup. Absolutely. 100%

There was no putting it off any longer, though. Despite their insistence that the men should not wait up for them, they had. Because, of course they had.

After a brief recap of the day and a run down of what would need to be done in the morning before they checked out of the cabin, the group dispersed, heading to their respective rooms and turning in for the night. Emma glanced at Killian, whom she’d been avoiding making eye contact with, and could see the same uncertain, hesitant, bracing-for-what-may-come-next demeanor she knew she’d walked into the cabin with.

Making her way into their room, she noted how he’d made the bed and picked up their discarded suits that had still littered the floor when she’d left early that morning. She swallowed heavily at the memory of her quickly quieting her alarm and getting ready - queasy and heavy-headed - as silently and stealthily as possible as not to wake him and force an interaction. What had it been like for him to wake up alone? Had he been plagued by thoughts and memories and questions all day like she had? Eager to see her and discover what it all meant whilst also willing to allow the hours to drag on and avoid having to face a reality that may not meet hopeful expectations?

The door softly snicked closed, the air growing heavy and charged as tense anticipation palpated throughout the room.

“Swan,” Killian began, his voice gentle but resolved as he hovered by the door, giving her as much space as he could within the privacy of their room. “I know talking about last night is probably the last thing you wish to do, but I really think, given that it’s happened twice now, that we really ought to dis--”

“You’re right,” she agreed, cutting him off. “I think we need to talk about it.”

Killian balked. That was clearly not the response he’d been prepared to receive from her. “You do?”

“Yeah,” she said, wetting her lips and shuffling her feet against the carpet, her gaze turned downward as she slipped her hands into her back pockets. “I’ve, uh… I've been thinking about it all day. I mean…” she paused, her eyes closing briefly at how that statement could be misconstrued, even if the presumption wouldn’t be completely off base. “I’ve been thinking about us all day.”

“Me, too,” he replied with understanding, no hint of teasing or suggestive provocation in his tone.

Emma lifted her gaze and met his eyes. He was looking at her as one would a cornered animal, cautious and careful of making any sudden movement that might frighten the creature away.

“Actually,” she continued, her heart thumping wildly in her chest as she gathered the courage to make her next confession. “I’ve been thinking about us since that night on the ship.”

“Aye,” he breathed out on little more than a whisper. “Me, too.”

With her hands still tucked away in her pockets, she dipped her gaze down to her feet once more and said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” he replied without hesitation.

It took her a moment to get over her own.

“The other night,” she began, haltingly. “When you implied that you didn’t share your bed often enough to develop a preference on which side of the… I know it’s none of my business, but…”

“But?”

Flicking her gaze to his once more, she took a breath and asked, “How often is not often enough?”

Killian reached up and scratched behind his ear; a usually endearing tell of his, but one that had her stomach churning at that moment.

“I, uh… actually…” He cleared his throat and cast his gaze aside, though he did throw a furtive glance her way as he answered, “This past year I’ve only shared my bed with one person.”

“Oh,” Emma replied, her heart sinking a bit. “Can I ask who?”

Killian’s head snapped back towards her, a look of amused confusion on his face. His expression softened and he closed the space between them, his hand coming up to cup the side of her face, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw as he said, “Don’t you know, Emma… It’s you.”

“What?” she exhaled, stupidly. “What do you mean… me?”

“I haven’t been with another woman since last Christmas when you kissed me beneath the mistletoe.”

Emma knew her mouth was hanging open. She knew she must have looked - in his words - absolutely gobsmacked. “B-But that was…” she stuttered, recalling the moment he was referring to. “That was just a silly, little peck on the lips because Elsa had hung it over the bar station and caught us standing there. It was hardly even a kiss.”

“Perhaps not to you,” he said with a tinge of hurt in his voice. “But it was to me.”

Dropping his hand he took a small step back and Emma instantly regretted making it seem as though the kiss hadn’t been a big deal. In truth, she’d had to convince herself for months afterward that it wasn’t.

“But it wasn’t just the kiss,” he continued. “It’s what the kiss exposed.”

Emma felt her breath hitch at the way he was looking at her now: vulnerable, unguarded, and - to use the word he’d just uttered - thoroughly exposed.

“Which was?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and a longing took over in his forget-me-not depths. “That you’re it for me, Swan. I…” Boldly, he approached her again, his words and expression leaving no room for doubt as to his sincerity. “There’s no one else. I don’t want anyone else. You’re the one I want.”

“Why… Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked, the sound of her heart thundering in her ears, her chest rising and falling a bit too rapidly.

He cocked his head to one side, an uncomfortable expression taking hold of his features as he reminded her, “At the time, you were with that Walsh bloke, and despite my dislike of the fellow, it seemed bad form to make heartfelt declarations whilst you were in a relationship.” Running a hand through his hair, he exhaled heavily and added, “When it did, thankfully, end, although his timing was rubbish, leaving you high and dry on Valentine’s Day, you seemed a bit… put off by the idea of, well, all men.”

“Right,” she said, her cheeks flushing hot at the reminder. “My rant at the pub about how all men are bastards and how I was vowing to live a celibate life from then on.”

“Aye,” he chuckled. “Didn’t seem like the right time to suggest we start… anything.”

“So,” she said, understanding why he’d taken a step back. “You gave me some space.”

“I thought it best to give it time. Let you heal. Remind yourself that, though the wanker had broken your heart, at least that meant it still worked.”

“And then,” she said, prompting him to continue. “The cruise.”

“Aye, the cruise,” he parroted, swallowing hard. “Liam and Elsa’s wedding, both of us in the wedding party, spending all that time together, flirting, connecting. I thought… I thought, perhaps, it was finally my chance. Our chance. We had that amazing night together. Not just the sex, but everything else that had led up to it. And then…”

“And then, I metaphorically ran for the hills the next morning.”

Killian dropped his head, his shoulders tense as he drew in a deep breath. “I was afraid that I may have taken advantage of--”

“No, Killian,” she said, cupping his cheek and urging him to look at her. “We went over that the next day. You didn’t take advantage of me. At least, not anymore than I took of you. That wasn’t why I--”

“I know, love,” he murmured. “I know you weren’t ready. You were still getting over--”

“No, I wasn’t,” she told him. “I got over Walsh a long time ago, I just…”

“What?” he asked, his eyes flicking between hers. “You just what, Swan?”

A contrite expression pulled at her brows and she dropped her hand to his chest as she confessed, “I didn’t want to be just another notch on your bedpost. I didn’t want to be some conquest.”

“Oh, Emma,” he whispered, gathering her in his arms. “You are not some conquest. Not to me.”

He held her for several beats of their hearts, his face nuzzling the top of her head. “Ever since that night, I have waffled between the desire to respect your wishes, and the urge to fight for what I want.” Pulling back, he gazed down at her and professed, “I’m done waffling. I want you, Emma. I want to be with you. I want to pursue you, and woo you, and court you in all the ways you ought to be.” Bringing his hand up, he caressed the side of her face with the backs of his fingers and murmured, “But only if you want that as well. Whatever we become is as much up to you as it is to me.”

“That all sounds good to me,” she said, pulling a deep chuckle from his chest, and they both smiled at one another, basking in the joy of the moment.

A joy that transitioned as they stood there, lightly caressing the other, breathing the other in, and gazing into each other’s eyes. Eyes that were darkening and becoming more hooded and intense as the atmosphere began to electrify around them.

When their lips met, it wasn’t in the chaotic and frenzied way they had in the instances before. There was no less passion, no less heat, but the desperation in this kiss was for closeness, intimacy, and not because either of them thought this might be the only time they’d ever get a chance to experience the other in this way.

After a long, thorough, languid exploration of her mouth, Killian’s moved to her jaw, the space below her ear, then down her neck. Emma’s fingers carded through his hair as his tongue mapped the slope of her shoulder, his hand gently pulling at the collar of her shirt to expose a greater path.

“I agree,” he murmured into her skin, his lips applying soft kisses and gentle, sucking pressure to her pulse points as they traveled back up her neck.

“With what?” Emma panted, torn between wanting to bask in this unhurried moment of enjoyment and her eagerness to move things along so they could get to the really good stuff.

“With what you said last night,” he reminded her, pulling his face away from her neck so he could stare down at her with a smoldering gaze of desire. “We really ought to do it sober sometime, and I see no better time than now. Do you?”

“Uh, yeah. No. I mean…” Emma silently cursed herself for sounding like an idiot. Taking a deep breath, she reached down and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, then began lifting it as she replied, “I think so, too.”

Killian raised his arms, allowing her to peel the shirt from his body. His breath visibly hitched beneath her touch as she ran her fingers down the front of his chest; the muscles in his lower abdomen jumping when they reached the top of his jeans where his body hair began to taper into a happy trail. She could feel the heat of his gaze as she loosened his belt, heard the soft gasp that fell from his lips when she unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, and the groan he let out when she slipped her hand past his boxer briefs to wrap around his hardening, hot, velvety length sent a shiver of wonder down her spine.

“I think,” she whispered in a sultry tone, flicking up her gaze up from beneath her lashes to meet his; her words causing them to open after her actions had clearly made them fall shut in pleasure. “I’ll be the one doing the taking this time.”

A shudder ran through him and his gaze darkened. “As you wish,” he murmured, his timbre low and gravelly and making her want to do all sorts of naughty things to him.

Her hand still wrapped around his cock, she guided him to the edge of the bed and prompted him to sit on the edge as she sank down onto her knees.

“Lie back,” she instructed while working to free him from his jeans and underwear.

“As my lady commands,” he replied, collapsing back onto the mattress, though his head remained lifted so he could watch.

After divesting him of his remaining garments, Emma pulled her hair into a high ponytail. She delighted in the way his body jumped and quivered beneath her touch; her teasing caresses and taunting kisses applied to all the areas except where he’d want them most. Pained pants puffed from his chest and soft whimpers collected in the back of his throat. The cords of his neck strained whenever his head fell back, his eyes following the motion, his lips parted and sticking at the corners whenever his teeth weren’t burying themselves into their soft flesh. When she finally turned her attention to his neglected manhood, his hips jerked off the bed from the feel of her tongue running the length of his cock.

“Bloody hell,” he cursed, his hands balling up the comforter in a white-knuckeled grip.

“Shhhh,” she admonished. “Don’t make me gag you like you had to with me last night.”

The reminder forced a half-growl, half-groan from his chest, but it fully transformed into a moan of pleasurable relief when she took him fully into her mouth.

“Gods above, Swan,” he croaked after several minutes of her working him over, trying to keep his voice down. Trying… and failing. “Fuck!”

With a soft pop, Emma released him and stood.

“Apologies, love,” he whispered in a desperate tone. “Please. Don’t stop.”

“I have no intentions of stopping,” she assured him. “But you clearly need help staying quiet.”

If he had a retort to her statement, it must have been forgotten when she lifted her shirt over her head and then removed her bra. Killian’s tongue slowly dragged across his lips, his eyes intently focused on her as she shimmied out of her own jeans and panties. Her black lace panties that matched her bra; a set, like her swimsuit, she had intentionally packed with him in mind.

Black lace panties that she picked up off the floor and let hang off her index finger as she made her way up onto the bed, mounting him dramatically and straddling his hips.

“Are you gonna be a good boy and keep quiet, or…”

She swung her panties once around her finger. His Adam’s apple bobbed, his eyes trained on the black fabric until it came to a rest, crooked on her finger once more, before they met hers. Emma could see the gears turning in his mind, trying to decide which he’d prefer.

After a deliciously taut moment, he said, “I’ll be good. I promise.”

“Mmmm,” Emma hummed, leaning down so her lips could hover over his. “Good choice.”

She laid her panties on the pillow next to his head as they kissed - just in case. Killian groaned when his tongue ran alongside hers and Emma knew it was because he could taste the brine of his precum still lingering there. When she finally broke off the kiss so she could sit back and position herself over his length, he followed. They both broke the promise of being quiet when he slipped inside her, filling her, stretching her, molding her to him as though they were only ever meant to fit one another.

Rolling her hips, Emma began to move as Killian held her. Murmurs, grunts, staccatoed breaths, sweet nothings, curses, praises, all filled the space between them as their bodies rolled, their hips swiveled, their lips collided, their eyes connected, and their pleasure mounted.

Whenever Emma would arch her back, Killian latched onto her breasts, lavishing them with his tongue and applying sweet torture with his teeth. Torture that reverberated down to her clit, causing it to throb and ache until she couldn’t take it any longer. Pushing Killian back down onto the mattress, she ground down hard against him in an attempt to alleviate the torment. When she felt the damp press of his thumb against her she nearly cried out before remembering herself.

“That’s it, love,” he encouraged, vigorously applying just the right amount of pressure and rhythm to her clit as he shifted beneath her so he could continue to thrust up into her warm, slick center. “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight. So soft. So wet.” His words became breathier and more strained, his exertions unrelenting as his thumb and cock competed to bring her to completion. “Come for me,” he pleaded, though there was a tone of command that grew more prominent as he repeated them.

“Come for me, love. I want you to come. Need you to come. Come for me, Emma. Oh, Emma. Emma, Emma, My Emma. Come!”

And come, she did.

Hard.

Showing her no mercy, Killian kept pounding into her, his ministrations at her clit sending wave after wave of ecstasy and bone-numbing pleasure through her, making it impossible for her to stay upright. Collapsing against him, she felt his rhythm falter for a few brief seconds when he brought up his knees, giving him the necessary leverage to chase after her into the euphoric abyss she was still tumbling down. The sounds of his desperation panted and grunted and moaned in her ear, until his breath hitched and guttural groanings, deeper than words, reverberated through his chest and stuttered over his lips like his hips did against hers.

Emma wasn’t sure how long they laid there, sated and spent and unbearably content as their bodies cooled and their breaths evened out.

“Do you need to move?” Killian asked, his legs stretching back out as his arms kept her held firmly against him.

“I don’t want to,” she mumbled into the side of his neck. “But I probably ought to.”

During their post-coital cuddling, he’d already begun to soften and slip from her, but the emptiness she felt when he fully left her had them both quickly moving through their aftercare routines so they could be back in the other’s arms, nestled beneath the covers, as quickly as possible.

“Does it all still sound good to you, love?” Killian questioned between the soft kisses he was applying to the back of her shoulder.

“The wooing and pursuing and courting, you mean?” she clarified, sleepily.

“Aye.”

“Mmmm, you bet.”

~/~

“Well, I think that’s everything,” Liam said, tying a knot on the last of the trash bags that needed to be taken out. “Elsa is going over the check-out list one last time, but I think we’ve taken care of everything.”

“I don’t see why we even bothered,” David groused. “It’s not like the owner kept up his end of things.”

“And Elsa will make sure her review reflects that,” Liam assured him.

Emma and Killian exchanged amused glances with one another. Other than the heat going out that one night - which Kristoff had managed to fix the next day - she and Killian had been the only ones truly ‘inconvenienced’ by the misleading information in the cabin’s listing.

An inconvenience she was tempted to leave a five star review for.

Sleeps ten, her ass… and her eternal gratitude.

The End

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[jrob64]

Drummer Boys, Reindeer and Romance

My Secret Santa gift for @mie779

Merry Christmas @mie779 - I'm your Secret Santa this year! I was very excited to get your name and I hope you like the story and pic set I created for you. I tried to work in some of your favorite things. Hope you have a wonderful holiday season!

Many thanks to @hookedmom who took time out from a busy holiday season to beta for me.

With this story, I can cross off one square on my Winter Bingo Board. Stories in that collection can be found here

Story Summary: An empty seat at an elementary school Christmas pageant creates an opportunity for Killian Jones to meet Emma Swan. As they chat between songs, they feel drawn to each other, but Killian has to be brave enough to ask Emma out…and she has to be brave enough to accept. 

Rating: G

Words (Chapter 1/1): 5899

Can also be found on Ao3 and ffn

Stories in the CS Secret Santa 2024 collection can be found here

Story begins under the cut

*********

“Pardon me, lass. Is that seat taken?”

Emma Swan looked up from the program she had been scanning, to see a man standing in the aisle of the auditorium, looking at her expectantly.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“I was wondering if you were saving the seat beside you for someone.”

She glanced at the empty seat to her left. “Uh, no. I’m not saving it for anyone.”

After an awkward pause, he asked, “In that case, would you mind if I sit there?”

“Oh, sorry.” She stood up, letting him pass in front of her.

When they were settled in their seats, he said, “Thanks very much.” Holding out his hand, he added, “Killian Jones.”

“Emma Swan,” she responded, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I don’t think I’ve seen you around Storybrooke before.”

“I live in Portland. I visit from time to time, and stay at my brother Liam’s house when I do. I’m here to watch his and Elsa’s daughters. They’re the two cutest reindeer.”

“Missy and Alice are your nieces? They’re in my son Henry’s class. In fact, I think he has a crush on one of them.”

“Which one?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure. They both look alike to me.”

“Well,” he chuckled, “that’s quite common with identical twins.”

She laughed. “You have a point there.”

“Is your son also a reindeer?”

“I wish,” she sighed. “Reindeer are quiet. My son is the little drummer boy. My friend is the music teacher and I’m pretty sure she cast him in that role intentionallly. Her husband has been dying to buy Henry a drum set ever since he was a toddler, but I keep telling him absolutely not. Of course, once my son got the part, he had to practice, so Mary Margaret sent a snare drum home with him. I can hardly wait until this program is over, so I can get that freaking thing out of my house. I love my kid, but he’s driving me crazy with it!”

Killian’s grin stretched wider across his handsome face. “Well, I can assure you that reindeer are not quiet. At least, not in Alice and Missy’s case.”

“I’m sure having two ten-year-olds in the house can be very loud. I only have one and sometimes I swear he’s trying to split my eardrums.”

“With his drum,” Killian smirked.

“You’re hilarious,” Emma groaned sarcastically, rolling her eyes. However, she couldn’t help grinning a little at his attempt to make a joke.

“Are you, uh, are you sure I’m not taking…anyone’s seat?” he asked tentatively.

“If you’re talking about Henry’s father, he won’t be coming. He lives in New York City with his other family. Henry only gets to see him a couple of times a year.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. The less time Henry spends with his dad, the smaller the chance Henry will act like him. After six years, he’s used to taking a back seat to Neal’s other kids.”

She opened the paper she was holding again, scanning the information typed inside. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Killian leaning in slightly to have a look at it, too.

“Didn’t they give you a program at the door?” she asked.

“They were out by the time I got here. I left work as soon as I could, but barely made it. Liam and Elsa weren’t expecting me to come tonight, so they didn’t save a seat for me.”

Emma swiped across her phone to look at the time. “They’re getting started a few minutes late. That’s typical for Mary Margaret because she wants everything to be perfect. She’s probably still gluing cotton balls onto Santa’s beard.” Scooting over in her seat a couple of inches, she held the program between them. “I’ll share with you. Looks like Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer is the next-to-last song.”

Killian perused the offered page. “Your drummer boy looks to be the star of the third song.”

“Pa-rum-pa-pum-pum,” she intoned. He chuckled.

The lights dimmed and Mary Margaret hurried onto the stage as the crowd applauded.

“Show time,” Emma commented, then straightened in her seat to listen as her friend welcomed everyone.

*********

Killian shifted in the cushioned chair and tried to focus on what the lovely, pixie-haired teacher was saying. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to pay attention; rather, it was the distraction of the beautiful woman to his right which was occupying his mind. Through no fault of her own, she was making it very difficult for him to concentrate on the acknowledgements of all of the people responsible for helping with the elementary school Christmas pageant.

When she looked up at him after he inquired about the empty seat beside her, he was instantly struck by her beauty. It had been a long time since he gave any woman a second glance. Having his heart broken three years before caused him to swear off of women for good, and he stuck to it.

He may have to rethink that.

Being intrigued by her looks was one thing, but when she began conversing with him, he was struck by how easy it was to talk to her. She was witty and sarcastic, and put him at ease immediately.

When he verified that he wasn’t taking anyone’s seat, it was also his subtle way of asking if she was in a relationship. He had discreetly checked her ring finger and saw it was bare, but wanted further assurance. He was probably assuming too much by thinking her answer about her ex was proof she was indeed single, because she could be dating someone else. But if she was, that man would surely show up to her son’s Christmas pageant, wouldn’t he?

As crazy as it sounded, after knowing her for all of five minutes, Killian was seriously thinking of asking her out.

*********

Emma could feel the nearness of the man beside her and, shockingly enough, she didn’t mind at all. In fact, she actually found herself leaning toward him.

Her friend Elsa mentioned her brother-in-law to Emma several times, but she had never met him or seen a picture of him. If she had, she definitely would have remembered, because the man was ridiculously handsome. She probably seemed like an idiot when he asked about the empty seat beside her and she didn’t tell him he could sit there right away. She was simply gobsmacked when she looked up at him and had trouble getting her mind to work.

Fortunately, once he sat down, words were easier and the conversation she had with him was very enjoyable. She found herself wishing he had gotten there sooner, so they could have had more time to chat before the pageant began. It had been quite a while since she actually wanted more time to talk to a man. Usually, she wanted them to shut up and leave her alone.

Finding someone to date in Storybrooke was not an easy feat. Not that she put much effort into it. After what she went through with Neal, she swore off dating altogether. He not only broke her heart by leaving her for another woman, he told her he never loved her in the first place and the only reason he stayed with her as long as he did was because she was careless enough to get pregnant. He didn’t seem to realize that he had a little something to do with her ending up in that condition, too. She didn’t regret it, though. Henry was the best thing that ever happened to her. She had been telling herself for years that she loved her kid and he was the only male she needed in her life.

How absurd was it for her to want a chance to get better acquainted with Killian Jones so soon after meeting him?

*********

Killian’s whirlpool of thoughts was interrupted when music began playing and the third and fourth grade students trooped onto the stage to stand on the risers, all of them dressed in homemade costumes for their various roles.

Leaning over, he quietly asked, “Which one is Henry?”

Emma pointed. “The one with the jeans chopped off at the knees, white shirt and a vest made out of a cut up paper bag. Real professional, huh? He reminded me last night that he needed a costume, so it’s the best I could do.”

“I think it’s very effective. He’s supposed to be a poor boy, right?”

They fell silent when a little girl dressed as Mrs. Claus stepped to the microphone to introduce the first song. As Killian tried to lay his elbow on the arm rest, he bumped Emma’s, which was already there.

“Sorry, Love,” he whispered, tucking his arm against his side.

“We can share,” she whispered back, scooting her arm over to give him some room. Under normal circumstances, he would have passed on the offer, but he quite liked how it felt to touch her. Once their elbows were both on the arm rest, he turned his attention back to the stage, where the students dressed as elves were lining up to lead the song Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas, while Mary Margaret was taking her seat behind the piano.

“You were right,” Emma muttered. “Your nieces are the cutest reindeer.”

“Of course they are. They take after their uncle,” he cheeked.

Mary Margaret launched into the accompaniment before Emma could reply.

Frosty the Snowman followed, with students dressed as snow people spinning and dancing on the stage. One snowman twirled himself dizzy and almost fell off of the stage. Luckily, David was quick on his feet, catching the little boy and preventing disaster.

“I can guarantee I’ll hear about what a hero he was for days from Mary Margaret,” Emma remarked as they clapped at the end of the song.

“Your boy is up next,” Killian reminded her.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, scrambling to pull her phone out of her purse.

“Would you like me to take the video so you can sit back and enjoy his performance?”

She looked at him. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all. It would be my pleasure.”

Emma quickly unlocked her phone, pulled up the camera app and set it to video. “You know how to do this, right?”

He chuckled as he took it from her hands. “Don’t worry, Swan. I’m a twenty-first century man, so I do know a fair amount about technology.”

Henry took his place behind the snare drum and smiled widely at his mom. However, once the song started, he was all business, taking his drum solo very seriously. After filming the entire group of students during the first verse, Killian zoomed in on Henry for the rest of the song, capturing his solemn expression as he struck the drum in perfect rhythm.

At the conclusion of the song, Killian turned the phone toward Emma, who was clapping loudly and shouting, “Way to go, kid!” Through the lens, Killian could see the sheen of proud tears in her eyes. He didn’t stop filming until she turned to him to get her device back.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m glad I could enjoy it without having to watch him through my phone screen.”

“No problem,” he assured her. “He did a wonderful job. He just might have a future as a drummer in a band.”

“I hope he’s out on his own by then if he does. I don’t think I could handle all of the practicing.”

Killian chuckled and settled back in his seat to enjoy the next two songs. When it was time for the reindeer to take their place at the front of the stage, he dug his own phone out of the front pocket of his jeans.

“Here, I’ll return the favor,” Emma said, reaching for the phone. “Enjoy your nieces’ performance.”

“Thanks, Love,” he said gratefully.

The song went well until one of the twins accidentally stepped on the other one’s foot, who then pushed the unwitting culprit. A short shoving match ensued between the two of them, until Mary Margaret snapped her fingers at them with one hand, while continuing to play the piano with the other.

Killian scanned the crowd to find his brother and sister-in-law. Liam was trying, and failing, to keep a grin off of his face, while Elsa scowled ferociously at her rowdy daughters.

The rest of the song went on without further incident. When Emma handed his phone back, Killian remarked, “I think the girls might be in for it after this is over.”

“Yeah, Elsa looks pretty peeved.”

“Do you know her?”

“We got to know each other through the PTO, and we’ve become pretty good friends.”

“PTO?” he questioned.

“Parent-teacher organization. We do fundraisers to give the school and staff extra things the district doesn’t provide. We also sponsor fun events for students and their parents, like skating parties and bingo nights.”

“It sounds very beneficial,” Killian commented.

Mary Margaret announced that the final song was Silent Night and after the students sang it through once, the audience was encouraged to join in.

The children, who had just sung Rudolph loudly and exuberantly, now sang the beloved carol with great reverence. A hush fell over the crowd as they listened to the sweet voices. Killian turned his eyes toward Emma and saw her swallow hard, clearly trying to keep her emotions in check. He was a little emotional himself and he didn’t even have a child on the stage.

Killian added his rich baritone the second time through. He could hear Emma’s voice and wasn’t at all surprised that it was as lovely as the lady herself.

As the final notes faded away, she turned to look at him. He smiled and winked, beginning to clap with the rest of the audience. When the ovation was over, she quickly collected her coat and purse. “I have to go get Henry from his classroom. I…it was nice meeting you, Killian. Maybe we’ll see each other the next time you come to town.”

He looked stunned. “Aye, Swan, perhaps we will.”

With a final wave, she was gone, swallowed up by the crowd.

*********

As he watched her walk away, Killian felt like kicking himself. He just let her go, without asking her out or even requesting her phone number. He was sure he wasn’t the only one who felt the connection between the two of them, but now it was too late to act on it.

She did say she was Elsa’s friend, so perhaps he could get Emma’s information from his sister-in-law. That was less than ideal, but it might be his only option.

He sighed, grabbed his coat from the chair and set off to locate his family.

*********

Emma hated leaving the way she did, but she knew Henry would be waiting for her. Telling her son how proud she was of him, trumped hanging around to talk to Killian some more. She truly hoped she would run into him again, sometime.

She wished she would have been bold enough to ask him for his phone number. Of course, she could always get it from Elsa, but that would mean telling her friend she was interested in her brother-in-law. Emma didn’t really want to open that can of worms.

So as she fought her way through the crowd, disappointment rose up within her because she knew she was leaving behind the first guy who drew her interest in a very long time.

*********

“Where’s Elsa?” Killian asked, once he found Liam still occupying the seat he sat in during the performance.

“She went to get the girls. I offered, but she insisted. She may knock their heads together after their antics on stage.”

Killian laughed. “Never a dull moment with those two, is there?”

“Not a single one. Thanks for coming, brother,” Liam said, standing up to clap Killian on the shoulder.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I told Missy and Alice I would try to make it and I didn’t want to let them down.”

“You’re a good uncle.”

“The best,” Killian smirked. Then his face took on a serious expression. “May I ask you something?”

“Sure. What’s on your mind?”

“Uh…how well do you know…Emma Swan?”

Liam’s brows raised. “She and Elsa are good friends, so I know her pretty well. Why do you ask?”

Killian scratched behind his ear. “I, um…I sat beside her this evening. I never met her before, but I…she…she seems very nice.”

Liam studied his brother for several moments. “Are you interested in her?” he queried.

His brother shrugged. “I just…we had a good conversation and I thought about…”

When he didn’t continue, Liam supplied, “Asking her out?”

Killian shrugged again. “I know. It’s a stupid idea. I mean, I just met her and we only talked for a few minutes, but…”

Liam stepped in front of him, placing both hands on his brother’s shoulders. “Killian, I know you had a rough go of it with Milah, but you can’t go through life never taking a chance again.”

“Emma probably wouldn’t accept…”

“You won’t know unless you try.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. She went to collect her son and then they’ll leave.”

“Then we’ll go find her before they do.”

“Liam…”

“Killian, a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.”

Killian considered his brother’s words for a few seconds. “You’re right. Let’s go see if she’s still here.”

The pair took off through the nearly empty auditorium. Liam led Killian down one hallway, then nearly ran into Elsa and the girls when they turned the corner.

“There are my lovely ladies,” Liam said, kissing first one of his daughters on the head, then the other. “Good job, my little reindeer.” Seeing the stern look Elsa was giving him, he added, “But perhaps next time you shouldn’t stand right next to each other.”

“It was Missy’s fault,” Alice began, before being cut off by her mother.

“I’ve already talked to you about this,” Elsa reprimanded. “You were both at fault and tomorrow, you will both apologize to Mrs. Nolan.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused. Then they rushed to get a hug from their uncle.

“You came!” Alice cried.

“Told you he would,” Missy said. ���Uncle Killy would never let us down, would you?”

“I can’t promise that I never will, but I’ll try my very best not to,” he assured them, one arm wrapped around each twin.

Liam pulled Elsa aside. “Did you see Emma?” he asked.

“Yes, she was picking up Henry at the same time I was getting the girls,” his wife answered. “Why?”

Lowering his voice so their daughters wouldn’t hear, he said, “Killian sat beside her during the performance and they seemed to hit it off. He was hoping to catch her before she left and ask her out.”

Elsa’s expression went from very excited to downcast. “I’m afraid they’re gone already.”

Killian caught what she said and his heart sank. He knew he missed his chance when he let her walk away.

Elsa saw the look on her brother-in-law’s face. “Girls, hug your uncle and tell him goodbye. I’m sure he needs to start back to Portland soon.”

Missy and Alice took turns getting big bear hugs from Killian, then Liam bid him goodbye and took the girls to the car, clearly aware that his wife wanted to talk to his brother alone.

Killian gave Elsa a questioning look. “What do you have up your sleeve?”

“Do you think Emma was attracted to you?”

He shrugged slightly. “I can’t say for sure, but we talked quite a bit and she seemed to like me.”

“The fact that she enjoyed talking to you leads me to believe she does. I love Emma, but she can be a bit prickly. I think you should ask her out.”

“Did you miss the part when you said she already left?”

“I’m going to give you her address, smart guy. Then you can go to her house.”

“Perhaps you should just give me her phone number instead.”

“You will not ask her out over the phone,” Elsa commanded. “That’s too impersonal.”

Killian nodded. “I see your point.” Pulling out his phone, he brought up Google Maps and typed in the address Elsa read from her contacts list. “It’s only a five minute drive.”

“Yes it is, which gives you less time to change your mind.” She gave him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “Now get going. Call us when you’re on the way home and let us know what happened.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, saluting smartly. When she rolled her eyes at him, he grew serious. “Thank you, Elsa.”

“You’re welcome. Now go turn on your charm.”

*********

Ten minutes later, Killian pulled up in front of the small, unassuming house where the GPS led him. After cutting the engine, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, contemplating whether or not he should go through with his plan.

His phone buzzed with an incoming text.

Liam: Remember what I told you. Don’t lose your nerve.

Killian shook his head and snorted out a laugh. Sometimes it was almost scary how well his brother knew him.

“The worst that can happen is she turns me down. I can survive that, right?” he muttered to himself. “Well, I guess we’ll find out.”

He unbuckled his seatbelt, threw open his car door and climbed out. Then he walked up the short sidewalk, lined with lighted plastic candy canes. After knocking on the front door, he nervously brushed one hand through his hair, then tugged at the bottom of his black leather jacket.

The door swung open and he found himself looking down at the little drummer boy, still dressed in his cut off jeans and white shirt, sans the paper bag vest. They looked at each other for a couple of seconds, then Henry turned and yelled, “Mom! Some guy is here!”

“Henry, what have I told you about answering the…” Emma’s words cut off suddenly when she came into view. “Killian?” she questioned disbelievingly.

“Uh, hi. I, um…I hope you don’t mind me stopping by,” he stammered.

She looked flabbergasted. “How did you know where I live?”

“Elsa gave me your address. I hope that was okay.”

Henry looked back and forth between the two adults. “Do you mean Mrs. Jones? Alice’s mom?”

“And Missy’s,” Emma added distractedly.

“How do you know Mrs. Jones?” Henry asked.

“Killian’s brother Liam is Elsa’s husband,” Emma explained. “Henry, please go turn the burner off under the hot cocoa so it won’t burn.”

“If it’s ready, can I pour some…”

“Absolutely not. Do not touch the pan or anything else; just the knob for the burner.”

“But I…”

She put her arm around his shoulders. “After you turn off the stove, why don’t you go ahead and put your pajamas on. Just give me a couple of minutes to speak to Mr. Jones, okay?”

“You did a fine job on your drum solo tonight, lad,” Killian said.

Henry’s face brightened. “Do ya really think so?”

“Aye. You were the star of the show.”

A wide grin split the boy’s face. “Thanks! I practiced a lot!”

“Your mother told me you did. Practice makes perfect, they say.”

“I guess so. We can be in band next year and I want to play percussion.”

Killian snuck a glance at Emma, who closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. With difficulty, he kept from laughing, before answering, “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.”

“At least one of us will,” Emma mumbled, before reminding Henry about turning off the stove.

“Bye, Mr. Jones. Merry Christmas!” Henry shouted on his way out of the room.

“Merry Christmas to you, lad.”

“So, um, not to sound rude, but why are you here?” Emma asked as soon as they were alone.

He tried not to fidget as he thought of what to say. “I…I really enjoyed talking to you this evening.”

“I enjoyed talking to you, too.”

Encouraged, the corner of his mouth quirked up. “That’s good to hear. So, I was wondering if…if you would consider going out with me.”

“On a date?” she asked, brows shooting up.

“Aye, that’s the idea.”

“I can’t…”

Killian felt his stomach drop.

“...even remember the last time I went on a date.”

“Perhaps we should remedy that,” he suggested hopefully.

Emma pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing on it in contemplation. “I don’t know…”

“Go out with him, Mom!” Henry yelled from the kitchen.

“Really, kid?” Emma said, clearly exasperated.

Henry poked his head around the door frame. “I like him.”

“Weren’t you told to put your pajamas on?”

“I will. I just accidentally heard what Mr. Jones said.”

Emma crossed her arms and gave him a patented ‘mom look’. “Accidentally, huh?”

He shrugged. “I have good hearing.”

“Only when you want to have it,” she stated. “Now, go do as you were told.”

“Okay,” he sighed, trudging down the hallway to his room.

She turned back to Killian, dropping her arms to her sides. “Looks like you have my kid’s approval.”

He studied her for a few seconds. “What about you, Emma? Do I have your approval, too? Elsa said she would be happy to watch Henry for you if we go out.”

She hesitated, then lifted her chin decisively. “Yes, Killian. I would love to go out with you.”

*********

One year later…

Killian followed Emma down the aisle of the auditorium and grinned when he realized what seats she chose. After sitting down, he draped his arm around her shoulders and leaned over to murmur in her ear, “These seats seem familiar, Love.”

She snuggled against his side. “They’re very special, because this is where I met the love of my life.”

“What a coincidence,” he teased. “This is where I met mine, too.”

Elsa and Liam slid into the seats in front of them. “Hello, lovebirds,” Elsa grinned.

“Don’t encourage them,” Liam cautioned. “I already have to witness far too much PDA from those two.”

“You don’t have to watch, you know,” Killian said, lightly whacking the back of Liam’s head.

“Both of you behave,” Elsa said, as Emma giggled.

“Speaking of behaving,” Killian began, “do you think your daughters will make it through the concert without assaulting each other this year?”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Liam said. “I caught Missy trying to hit her sister over the head with her flute the other day.”

“Be happy it wasn’t the other way around,” Emma commented. “Alice could do some serious damage with her saxophone.”

They were still laughing when the fifth grade band shuffled onto the stage in all their Christmas finery, instruments held proudly in front of them. Emma and Killian immediately spotted Henry taking his place behind the snare drum. He smiled and gave them a quick wave before picking up his drumsticks.

“He looks so grown up,” Emma said quietly.

“Your little drummer boy isn’t very little anymore,” Killian observed fondly. He and Henry had a very close relationship and he loved the boy as his own.

“A lot has changed in the past year,” she sighed happily.

“Aye, Love. It’s been phenomenal in every way.”

Mary Margaret, who also instructed the fifth grade band along with teaching elementary music, walked out onto the stage, preparing to introduce their first song.

Emma settled against Killian’s side to enjoy the concert. A year ago, sitting in these very seats, neither of them could ever have imagined what that first meeting would mean to them.

As the band began playing Jingle Bells, Killian pulled Emma a little closer. His chest swelled with pride watching Henry concentrating on his music, as he beat out the rhythm on the drum. This year, Emma hadn’t had to endure his incessant practicing alone, since Killian moved in with them just before Thanksgiving.

Emma saw Killian glancing at his watch once the third and final song ended. “Are you anxious to leave? You know we still have to sit through the sixth grade and junior high bands, don’t you?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m aware. I was just trying to gauge what time it will be over.”

“I’d say the concert will last about an hour,” Liam threw over his shoulder.

Killian slumped a bit in his chair. Then he caught sight of Henry, who was sitting in a reserved section to their right with the rest of the fifth grade band. The boy beamed at him and gave him a thumbs up. Killian winked and returned his smile.

Last year, the evening of Henry’s concert ended with Killian asking Emma out on their first date. This year, he had a different question to ask when they got home, one for which Henry had already given his approval.

He hoped her answer would be the same as last year. If so, they would be sitting in these seats next year as husband and wife.

Kissing her temple, Killian impatiently waited for the sixth grade band to begin playing. He intertwined their fingers, imagining how her hand would look with the diamond engagement ring on it. When she turned her face up to look at him, love shining in her eyes, he knew the beauty of the diamond would pale in comparison to the lady wearing it.

*********

Liam’s estimate for the length of the concert was right on the nose. When they finally walked out of the auditorium, light snow was falling. The conversation in the car on the way home was warm and playful. Henry laughed about the sixth grade percussionist who dropped one of the cymbals in the middle of a song, and expressed his hope that when he got older, he would be the one to make the whip sound for Sleigh Ride.

“Lord, help us through seven more years of band,” Emma murmured under her breath, causing Killian to laugh, despite the nerves that were knotting his stomach.

As soon as they got home, Henry went into the kitchen to get the ingredients out for hot cocoa, dubbing it a tradition after the Christmas concert.

“Is it a tradition if this is only the second time we did it?” Emma asked.

“I don’t know,” Killian answered, “but I do know of another tradition that’s been around much longer.” He pointed at the top of the doorway between the living room and kitchen.

“When did you put mistletoe up there?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“This evening while you were getting dressed for the concert.”

“You’re very sneaky,” she said, leaning in until her lips were just a fraction of an inch away from his.

“And you love me for it,” he grinned.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed before kissing him.

“Pre-teen boy coming through,” Henry announced, squeezing past them. “I’m going to put my pajamas on. Please be done making out by the time I get back.”

Emma and Killian laughed into their kiss. “I think we’re scarring him for life,” he quipped.

“That’s what parents are for,” she replied.

Killian pulled back to look at her. “You consider me to be his parent?”

“You’re more of a father to him than Neal has ever been.”

He surged forward to kiss her again. When it finally ended, he asked, “Do you think Henry regards me that way, too?”

“I’m sure he does.”

“Does what?” Henry asked, re-entering the room, now dressed in plaid Christmas pajamas.

“Do you think of Killian as one of your parents?” Emma asked.

“Well, duh,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Can we make hot chocolate now?”

Emma tried to give Killian a look that said I told you so, but he was gazing at Henry with a sense of wonder over the boy’s declaration.

Once the cocoa was gone and Henry was off to bed, Killian and Emma lay together on the sofa. The living room was lit only by the gas fireplace and the lights from the Christmas tree, while Christmas music played softly.

“This is nice,” she sighed.

He hummed in agreement, stroking his hand up and down her back. His thoughts were preoccupied with the perfect way to propose, so he almost missed what she said next.

“Marry me, Killian.”

His hand on her back stilled as his mind registered what she just said. “Wh-what?”

She pushed up on her elbows to look into his face. “Marry me.”

“Swan, you’re depriving me of a dashing proposal!” he protested.

She cocked her head, studying him. “Are you serious?”

He slid out from under her to kneel on the floor in front of the couch, reaching into the pocket of his sleep pants to retrieve the ring and holding it up for her to see.

Her eyes widened as she swung her feet down to the floor. “Oh. My. God. You really were going to propose, weren’t you?”

“Aye.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad? Since you asked me first, I’m pretty sure I know what your answer is going to be,” he chuckled.

“You still have to ask. That’s the rule.”

“Whose rule?”

“Mine. Now, let’s hear that dashing proposal.”

He grinned, then cleared his throat. “Emma, you and Henry have changed my life in every way possible. I never knew happiness like this even existed, let alone that it would happen to me. There aren’t enough words in this world to express how much I love you, but right now, there’s only one word I need to hear in response to this question - Emma Swan, will you marry me?”

Tears filled her eyes when she opened her mouth to answer, but emotion clogged her throat, so she nodded emphatically and threw her arms around him. As he held her tight, kissing her and murmuring words of love, she finally found her voice. “Yes, Killian, I will marry you! I love you so much!”

She pulled away, wiping at her eyes. “Henry and I are very lucky to have you in our lives. I know I’m speaking for him too when I say we want you to be part of our family forever.” Framing his face with her hands, she leaned in to kiss him again.

“Do you want the ring?” he asked against her lips.

She giggled and sat back, extending her left hand to him. He slid the ring into place and kissed her knuckle above it.

“It’s perfect,” she breathed.

“You are perfect, my love.”

“Says the man who complains when I leave wet towels on the floor,” she teased.

“Well…nearly perfect,” he grinned.

She held her hand up to admire the ring, the lights of the Christmas tree making the diamond glitter. “We’re engaged,” she said, awestruck.

“Mmhmm. Who would have thought that a little drummer boy and two feuding reindeer would bring us together and give us a happy ending?”

Her eyes met his, laughter and love dancing in them. “Best night of my life, hands down. Until today,” she amended.

Kissing the tip of her nose, he whispered, “Happy Christmas, wife-to-be.”

“Merry Christmas, husband-to-be.”

He stood up and took her hand to help her to her feet. Then they went to their bedroom to share the best gift of all - the love they had for each other.

*********

My heartfelt wishes for all of you to have a blessed and memorable Christmas!

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 @killihan-jones @cssecretsanta2020

[grimmswan]

Dracula in Storybrooke part 5

For Captain Swan Supernatural Summer @cssns

Drake paced back and forth in the dark corridor. He made no sound as his feet touched the damp stones. His frustration and vampire speed making him look like a blur to the rats hiding in the walls.

He desired the Princess Swan. She was the embodiment of beauty and power. The fact that she was able to withstand his seduction only made her more desirable to him.

He thought of Emma, with her long golden hair. Running his hands through it would be like being able to touch the sun once again.

But at the moment, that filthy pirate was probably running his only hand through her hair.

Drake hissed at the thought that his bride was being contaminated by one so unworthy of her.

He needed to find a way to sever the bond between the two.

Renfield had told him it was impossible. But Renfield had chosen to change his name to Smee, so Drake didn’t think he was very intelligent or wise.

Dracula was certain that if the pirate captain was turned into a monster, the fair princess would realize she was better off with a dark prince.

Outside of Granny’s, in the warm sunlight, Killian did have one hand wrapped in Emma’s hair. His hook was pressed to the small of her back, keeping her close to him as their lips moved slowly together.

Emma let her fingertips dance along his jawline. She enjoyed the contrast of the rough stubble to the tender way he was kissing her.

She had noticed the yearning way he was looking at her and knew what he needed. But neither trust finding a dark corner for a quiet moment since the vampires had made an appearance.

So beside the overgrown hedge it was.

“I won’t survive losing you, Swan.” Killian whispered against her mouth. “Promise me that you will do everything in your power to protect yourself.”

“As long as you promise me the same thing.” She whispered back to him. “After everything we’ve been through, I don’t want to live without you, either.”

“You two are ridiculous.” Leroy’s frustrated tone broke through the couple’s intimate moment. “You’re only going to be separated for a few hours at most. We need to get back before sundown.”

Since logically the caves were the ideal place for those that needed to avoid sunlight, Emma, her parents, and Leroy would be searching the tunnels for any sign of Dracula and his vampires.

Killian, Dr. Whale, Belle, and Blue would be searching through all of the ancient tomes and scrolls they could find for a way to turn everyone human again, and defeat Dracula.

Killian had wanted to go with Emma, but since he was fluent in multiple languages, he knew it was best to help with the research. Blue also wanted him to assist in gathering chrystal she and the other fairies would create to store Emma’s white light and use them as another way to ward off the vampires.

“Besides, if the vampires do try to attack us, it would help having an expert fighter with us.” Whale had pointed out.”

Before his group headed out, David mentioned to Killian in passing, “If Whale got maimed, nobody would blame you.”

“I heard that, Charming.” Whale growled.

“Don’t care.” David shrugged as he joined his wife and daughter. The former sighed and shook her head and him. The latter grinned at his behavior.

The group made their way through the tunnels, Emma in the front with her hands aglow the entire time.

They were sure that the vampires Dracula had turned were hidden away, sleeping.

Smee had said that Dracula had the power and ability to not sleep for months or years, he also had the ability to put himself into a sleep for centuries. But other vampires needed to hide themselves and sleep when the sun was up.

But no one wanted to take any chances. The plan was to find the sleeping vampires, and then bind them using Emma’s magic, and ropes woven with silver, preventing them from causing any harm to the rest of the town.

Weapons were drawn. Eyes quickly roamed every corner and peered into every shadow.

After walking to where they were sure was the deepest the tunnel could go, they came upon a cave filled with large stones stacked to resemble coffins.

“This must be where they are sleeping.” Leroy said out loud, “Now how are we going to lift these rocks so we can bind these blood suckers?”

“Leroy” Snow admonished, “These are people who are under a curse. It may be different than the other curses we are used to, but they are still victims. And they need our help.”

“Until you can find a way to turn them back, they are monsters who won’t give a second thought to biting our necks and draining every last drop of blood from our bodies. So you’ll excuse me if I’m not feeling too sensitive about their situation right now.”

“Your neck is not one I would be eager to dine out.” A female voice hissed.

Turning in the direction of the sound, they saw a beautiful woman clad in a sheer black gown emerge from a hollow in the wall.

“But your neck,” She continued, looking at David, “I would love to have lips pressed all over it.”

“Not a chance,” Snow shouted, aiming her arrow at the woman.

 She seemed to have forgotten all about their intention to capture the vampires without harming them.

The vampire woman hissed in Snow's direction, showing off her fangs and claws. Suddenly, more vampires emerged. The dirt and rocks fell away, revealing the hiding place of the fearsome beings.

There looked to be more there than had been thought to have been turned in Storybrooke.

“I think Dracula brought over some of his vampires from the Land of Horror and the Land of Untold stories.” David observed.

Emma sent out beams of light, “There’s too many. There's no way we’ll be able to bind them. We’ll have to get out of here and search for another way.”

The group retreated, heading back to Granny’s. Emma continued to send beams of light, keeping the vampires at a distance until the group was safely inside.

Everyone was grateful that Emma had put up magic wards to keep the vampires from entering. The vampires hissed and snarled as they tried and failed to push through the invisible barrier.

Several feet behind them, Emma could make out Drake standing and watching.

They had escaped him and his minions, so why did he have a smug look on his face?

Emma’s heart was suddenly gripped by terror. Where was Killian?

They took him by surprise, using a clever ruse.

He had gotten a call on his talking phone. Emma had told him that reception in the tunnels was terrible. So when the other person on the other end of the line sounded muffled, and strange, he assumed that was the reason. Believing the woman was the Lady Snow, he believed her when she said that Emma was in danger. Without a second of thought, he raced to the tunnels.

His thoughts were too preoccupied with Emma’s safety to hear Blue or Belle calling out that it might be a trap.

And Snow hadn’t realized that the attack had been a distraction allowing a vampire to steal her phone.

Too late, he realized his mistake. He was alone in the shadow, making himself easy prey for Dracula and his vampires.

 They ambushed him. Held him down as they sank their teeth into him. Killian watched in horror as Dracula emerged from the shadows, sliced a line into his wrist and held it over his face.

Killian’s mouth was held open by the vampires, forcing him to consume the crimson liquid that dripped onto his tongue.

“Those turned by me must do as I say. You will serve me like all of the rest.” The count put the full force of his power in his voice as he gave the command. “Bring the savior, Emma Swan, to me. When you are alone with her, use your new strength and power to subdue her and carry her to me.”

The blood took over Killian’s system. The Vampire Count’s voice took over everything in his mind. His body craved to consume blood. His mind craved to obey his master.

Fear had a vice-like grip on her heart. Emma ran as fast as she could, one had glowing, the other tracking Killian’s location with her cell.

It had been safest for her to go alone. Her intense emotions made her light powerful enough to send any vampire far away and writhing in agony.

 It was only when she spotted him, walking through the forest, without a mark on him that she calmed down.

Running to him as quickly as she could, she threw her arms around him and held him tight the moment their bodies collided.

The impact triggered him to take a deep breath.

Emma’s scent was stronger than ever. Sweet and soft, everything that was good in the world. His arms tightened around her and he inhaled more of her fragrance.

Killian took a long inhale of her scent. Emma always smelled like heaven to him. But at the moment, her unique perfume was stronger and especially enticing.

“Oh, Killian,” Emma sighed. “I was so worried. I was afraid Dracula had gotten you.”

Killian was unable to explain that Dracula had gotten to him. He wanted to keep Emma safe. But could not tell her that he was now a threat to her.

Emma messaged her father, letting him know, and asking him to inform the others that she had found Killian, and that he looked unharmed.

After joining back with the others, she helped infuse the chrystals Blue and the other fairies created with her light.

“Keep these crystals around your neck and the vampires will be unable to get near you.” Blue advised.

When Killian hadn’t reached for one, he excused it by saying, “I have Emma with me most of the time. There’s really no need for me to wear one.

It may have been a fact, and the others accepted the excuse, but in the back of everyone’s mind, there was a hint of suspicion.

Though she didn’t say anything, Emma was sure there was something wrong with the man she loved. Killian was too quiet. The last time he acted differently than his full self, he had been controlled by Gold. But she still encouraged everyone to go to their respective homes. No matter what, she knew she had nothing to fear about being alone with Killian.

Dracula stood in the shadows outside of Emma Swan’s home, waiting for his newest slave to deliver her to him.

But as he looked on, he saw no sign that his orders were going to be obeyed.

In fact, the opposite of what he wanted seemed to be happening.

Drake witnessed Killian pin Emma to the wall and trail kisses down her neck. Her mouth opened in an expression of bliss and her legs spread wider, inviting Killian to press closer.

“What are you doing, you fool?” Drake hissed. “You are supposed to deliver her to me.”

But it was clear he had no power over the pirate captain.

With his body pressed to hers, his hands gripping her firmly and his mouth roaming hungrily over her, Emma could feel how much Killian wanted her.

All Killian could think about was taking Emma. Consuming her. He needed her, every part of her. He was sure that he would die if he didn’t have her.

Driven by dark desire, Killian held Emma tightly to him, and sank his fangs into her neck.

Hearing Emma’s intake of breath, Killian found the strength to pull away.

But looking into her eyes, he didn’t see fear. He saw acceptance.

And desire.

Gazing at her, Killian was overwhelmed with the thoughts and feelings he had for Emma Swan. She was truly the most remarkable woman in the world. And the most beautiful. The most tantalizing. Temptation itself.

Especially her neck, with the drops of blood on her flushed skin reminding him of rubies set on ivory satin.

Too much temptation to resist, he lowered his head to consume more of her.

Drake was taken by surprise at the sight before him.

Somehow, his spawn had escaped his influence. What was more, he was feasting on the savior’s blood.

The savior’s behavior was even more shocking. He expected her to cry out in surprise, and pain. Instead, what he heard was a moan, and he saw her eyes flutter.

Was…. Was she enjoying it?

Fingers buried deep in Killian’s hair, Emma held him in place, encouraging him to take what he wanted from her.

Drake roared with a mixture of anger and frustration. It was hard to believe, but the truth was clear; Killian Jones was able to break the hold of the curse.

But the question was, how?

Something powerful bubbled up inside of Killian. Something that had been dormant for centuries.

The blood of a dragon, though polluted and mutated through a man, combined with the blood of a product of true love, awakened an ancient bloodline inside the pirate captain.

[teamhook]

Event Update::Captain Swan Co-Storytellers Collaboration

Hello, everyone! I'm very excited to announce that although it will be a week event it is still producing fics and a lovely collaboration. We have 5 groups.

I'm going to share a sneak peek into what to expect when we post around Thanksgiving.

Below the cut:

Story 1:

Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm had been the authors of many tales. Jacob wrote the framework and Wilhelm edited the stories making them better. The main goal was to give hope to the human race. As time passed on; the stories became darker and grim which earned them exile to the land of untold stories where they could hurt no one ever more. Time had finally liberated them from their prison and now their arrival to Storybrooke will allow them to fix the Author's lazy writing.

Story 2:

A Study in Scones

Summary: When pastries go missing from Storybrooke’s bakery, Killian and Emma enlist Henry’s help with Operation: Gingerbread. (A Captain Cobra Swan Mystery Fic) Rating: T

Story 3:

Try Something New

Blurb: Before they were True Love, they had to do one thing: learn to trust each other. Follow Emma Swan and Killian Jones across three alternate universes where one small decision would change the course of their lives.

Story 4:

The slam of the Bug’s old rusty door justled Neal awake, he’d just spoken with Emma, giving her the warning he needed. Now all he could hope was that his words had been enough to change her mind. His own words echoed inside his head as he took in the place he woke up in, dark walls, barely illuminated by a reddish light. “Where the hell am I?” Neal mumbled and tore off his beanie, swirling around himself. “Where’s the exit?” A wall flickered in a bright light and images of Emma climbing a beanstalk with the fucking pirate flittered before him, “Why am I seeing this, I know this story.”

Story 5:

A Historical AU, set in Revolutionary War times. Killian and Emma are both working as spies (against the British) and there is going to be intrigue, angst, whump, and hurt/comfort.

Who else is excited?

[captainswanfluffyfebruary]

There's No Harm in Repeating

Killian Jones has lived in apartment 204 for a year and has never exchanged more than ‘hellos’ with Emma Swan in apartment 205. That is until a run-in with her son, Henry, results in the boy doing some unintentional matchmaking. For how else do you find out what a woman thinks of you, if not through her four-year-old son? A Captain Swan as neighbors au featuring Captain Cobra moments.

Read on A03 and send some fluffy love to @beckettj

[athenascarlet]

The Merman Pirate

Summary: Emma was trying to settle back into normal life after her trip to Neverland so answering calls to the sheriff’s office feels good again. Except the call leads her to the local school and something she never expected. Rating: T Notes: For @cssns! I’m so excited to get this story out for Captain Swan Supernatural Summer. I’ve been thinking about Hook as a merman for awhile now and found this to be a fun one-shot to get out of my brain. Post-Neverland but pre-Pan curse. Just a normal night with a princess and a pirate. ;)

------------

The sky was dark and stormy as Emma drove through the streets of Storybrooke with her windshield wipers on high to clear the water away.

She had been back for a whole day from Neverland and was already fielding calls to handle another issue as a sheriff of this town. She didn’t really mind though. After being stuck on that stupid island for however long they were there, it was nice to be back and handling the normal calls that came into the office.

It also helped to distract her from what was going on with her son. Henry didn’t seem himself after the Jolly Roger returned to town, but she was still trying to figure out exactly what was going on there.

So a report to the sheriff’s office that someone broke into the town’s school? Totally normal and a good distraction.

Emma pulled up to the front of the school and ran through the pouring rain to the front door. Another benefit of working for the sheriff’s office is Emma had plenty of keys to buildings in the town, but it took her a few tries to find the one for the school.

She finally found the one she needed and slipped it quietly into the lock. The school itself was empty as she went through the halls checking classrooms and finding no one. Henry’s classroom included some artwork on the wall that he had done before they left for Neverland. It was just another reminder that despite their adventures, her son was still a kid going to school. Well, some days.

Emma made her way to the cafeteria and then the gym, finding no one. Perhaps the call was a dud or whoever was here had already left even though nothing seemed out of place.

There was a flash of lightning outside illuminating an open door on the far end of the gym and she started to make her way over as the thunder boomed overhead. Emma hoped it would hide the sound of her squeaky shoes on the floor.

She gently pushed the door open into the school’s pool, realizing she had never been in this part of the building before.

Emma didn’t always like Regina and it made her skin crawl at times thinking of the curse that Regina cast to create this town. But there were other times like now when she couldn’t help but admire Regina’s work. The pool’s walls were covered with tiles depicting colorful fish, sea serpents, and jellyfish. She wondered what Hook would think of this. He would probably ask to have someone add his Jolly Roger to the wall.

There was a splash from the pool and Emma’s attention was pulled in the direction of the water. It wasn’t still. There was someone in there.

She pushed herself into a shadow, realizing she had exposed her presence while staring at the walls. Her hand was on the holster of her gun as she peered back out into the water to see what was there.

And then she saw the mermaid.

Emma thought nothing could shock her when it came to magical creatures and fairy tale stories, but she couldn’t help but stare at the water glimmered on the scales of a gorgeous dark blue tail. It was darker than she expected and not like the tail that she had seen Ariel unfurl a few times in the open bay in Storybrooke.

And then the rest of the mermaid crested above the water, and Emma realized it wasn’t a mermaid.

He was a merman.

Hook.

His eyes were just above the waterline and she could tell it was him by his wet hair and that little peak on the top of his ears. But that was the only part of him above the water while his tail seemed to shimmer below the surface.

Emma took a breath and finally stepped out from her hiding spot. “Hook.”

He turned dramatically, his tail splashing through the surface as he pushed himself higher and his piercing blue eyes landed on her. A sexy sneer teased at the corner of his lips when he realized it was her and the tension in his shoulder seemed to slip away.

“Good evening, Swan. Fancy seeing you here this late.”

She walked over to the edge of the pool and looked down at him as he swam to the edge near her feet.

“I got a call about someone breaking and entering.”

“Well, I am a pirate.”

She crouched down to give him a closer look as his arms reached up to give him some extra leverage on the edge of the pool.

“You also seem to be a merman?”

“I do like the water.”

Emma shouldn’t be staring. She didn’t mean to stare. But Hook was right in front of her and he was a merman. His tail was dark against the light background of the pool and he was lazily flipping it around under the water. She wasn’t sure if this was the normal movement for his fin or if Hook was trying to put on a show because he could tell she was watching him.

And he was wearing clothes?

“What’s with the shirt?” she asked.

“The chlorine is harsh on my skin.”

“And why are you even here?”

There was another flash of light outside the pool’s window and thunder rolled overhead. Hook just looked up as a way to wordlessly answer the question.

“So you’re a mermaid who doesn’t swim when there’s water coming down from the sky?” she asked sarcastically.

“I’m a merman, Swan.” Hook’s tail flipped gently out of the water and back in as if to emphasize the difference. “And storms churn up all the dirt in the bay so I came here instead.”

“Sure,” she replied. “Yep, all logical.”

He shrugged and pushed off the wall, his tail swinging around underwater and then surfacing right where she was crouching, splashing her boots with a little water.

“Perhaps it’s not logical in your human realm, but you are the sheriff of a town full of people from the Enchanted Forest.”

“Don’t remind me.”

He gave her one of his wicked smiles and ducked down into the water, covering the length of the pool without coming up. He dove lower in the deep end and then quickly surfaced, the wet tail below his waist shimmering as he emerged high above the surface.

Then Hook was swimming back to her with the seductive look that reminded her of their kiss in Neverland. The way he stared at her, daring her to reward him for saving her father.

“Would you like to join me, Swan?”

They were back in Storybrooke now. She had to remember that. She was the sheriff who simply came across a merman because she was doing her job.

“Not tonight.”

Hook swam a little closer to her again and used his tail to hoist himself out of the water so he was eye level with her now. It was unnerving and delicious, and he was turning her on again just as he had when they were in Neverland.

“Perhaps another night then,” he said seductively.

Then he slipped back under the water and began his swim again.

Emma needed to remind herself that she was the sheriff and she was her on official sheriff business. Flirting with a merman was not part of her job description and she needed to get back to work.

She stood up and looked down at Hook in the pool again. He seemed content as if this was his way of releasing the frustration and stress from their time in Neverland. She wondered if she would ever have some kind of magic that could help her channel away those same feelings.

But that would have to be for another night.

“Make sure you lock up when you leave,” she yelled down into the water.

Hook surfaced again, his tail dragging behind him out of the water. “As you wish, Swan.”

As you wish. Unlike their moment in Neverland, this time his “As you wish” was teasing and flippant.

She liked the other way better.

The way he said it to her after she kissed him.

Emma knew that could never happen again.

“Good night, Hook,” she said before turning and heading back toward the gym and her job.

She heard a splash as his merman tail hit the water as she walked away.

[snowbellewells]

Captain Swan Christmas Reruns presents: The Christmas Wish

Written by: @searchingwardrobes

Recommended by: @snowbellewells

Summary: Emma leaned forward, closed her eyes, and a wish bubbled up unbidden from the depths of her heart. "I wish I could just have a simple, domestic life. Is that even in the cards for me?" Breath left her on an exhale just as the wish floated through her mind, and the candle blew out. The "answer" to her wish had to be some kind of trick, however. After all, it wasn’t as if anything in the vision she received could ever in a million years be real. It was ridiculous. Captain Hook, the father of three driving a minivan? Impossible.

Rated G for Hallmark movie levels of fluff and Christmas feels

What we love: It’s like a Hallmark Christmas movie you can reread and enjoy whenever you want. I love how Melanie plays with the idea of a wish coming true - if Emma is willing to believe in it - and the various fairy tale characters playing their parts for the story to unfold. I like how it goes back to around the 3b time frame of the show, but then diverges and takes its own path from there. Plus, there are all the fun clever nods that readers will recognize, and a wonderfully cheery happy ending.

READ IT HERE!

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Thanksgiving reruns 2023--Day 5: Black Friday (3/3)

It is crazy to me that it’s already time for this, but the holidays have officially arrived!  I would like to wish all my followers who celebrate it a very happy Thanksgiving.  As a thank you to you (as well as my followers who DON’T celebrate), I present you with 3 Thanksgiving related stories I’ve written in the past.  Enjoy!

Title: Black Friday—Chapter 3 of 3

Rating: G

Words: 4002

Summary: CS as single parents AU. As the holidays approach, Emma’s son Henry and Killian’s daughter Alice ask for a specific storybook which will ONLY be available for purchase on Black Friday.

 Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4

Black Friday—Chapter 3

Emma got the book for the first week, and it warmed her heart to see how unbelievably happy it made Henry.

She'd been afraid he'd be disappointed about the arrangement she made with Killian, disappointed that he'd have to share the storybook that he'd wanted so desperately, but she needn't have worried.  Far from being upset at the arrangement, he'd been delighted, assuring her that he liked Alice Jones and her dad and he was glad if he had to share the book that it was with them.

If she hadn't known better, she'd think he was happier things had worked out this way than he'd have been if she'd gotten the book outright.

In fact, he was so alright with the arrangement that he badgered her about setting a date for the exchange...and he insisted they have the Joneses over for dinner.

Emma stirred the pasta sauce, feeling like she needed to do something with her hands.  Killian and Alice would be here any minute, and Emma felt the nerves bubbling up as strong as the water she was boiling for spaghetti.

She hated herself for her reaction--for the fact that she was so nervous about something as simple as having a couple of people over for dinner.

Not to mention the fact she'd taken special care with her hair and make up, and she'd spent far longer than she'd like to admit selecting a sweater and a pair of jeans for the evening.  If anyone asked, she'd gone to the extra effort simply because she was feeling festive.  It had nothing to do with the fact that she was having a handsome single dad over.

But if Emma was being honest with herself she knew the truth.  Killian Jones had invaded her thoughts more, much more than she would have liked, and every time he did, her heart skipped a beat, her breath caught, her stomach swooped. 

 It was all so cliche that it made her want to groan.  She was not cliche.  She was not a love-struck teenager.  She'd done the whole falling in love thing, and it had bitten her in the ass in a major way.  She knew how this went.  She'd have a few months of breathless excitement with her new infatuation, and then it would all hit the fan, and before she knew it the pain would be nearly unbearable.  No thanks.  The highs were not worth the lows that would follow.

Nope.  It didn't matter how hot Killian Jones was.  Didn't matter how charming.  Didn't matter how much his love for his daughter warmed her heart.  She would keep her wits about her and fortify the walls around her heart that had kept her safe all these years since Neal.

But when her door buzzed ten minutes later and she opened it to see a rakishly handsome Killian in a deep blue button up, short leather jacket and tight black jeans--smiling knowingly as he held out a bottle of wine to her–her heart lurched, and Emma acknowledged to herself the fact that she might be in real, serious trouble.

*****

Two hours later Emma was beginning to wonder if it was already too late for her.  Dinner had been surprisingly enjoyable.  The Swans and the Joneses alike had talked and laughed and generally enjoyed each other’s company.

After dinner, Henry had pulled Alice toward the living room to try out a new video game he was rather obsessed with. 

"Let me help with the dishes, Love" Killian offered, gathering up plates from the table and heading toward the sink.  "Least I can do after such an extraordinary meal."

Emma felt her cheeks warm at the compliment.  Generally speaking, whatever talents she had did not extend to the kitchen, but pasta was one thing she could make and make well.  In the secret recesses of her heart--in the place she barely even acknowledged to herself--she'd wanted to impress him, and his praise warmed her like a blazing fire on a cold winter's night.

Together they cleared the table and set to work washing and drying the dishes.  Working together like this, he was so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body.  His scent of leather and a hint of rum invaded her senses and it made her want.

Not just on a carnal level.  That she could handle.  That was something she could take care of.  A quick scratch of an itch and he'd be out of her system, but no it wasn't just the physical want.

She wanted all of it--the conversation, the companionship, the family.  She wanted this little domestic situation to be real, to be permanent.

As Emma closed the door behind the Joneses--after making arrangements for the next book exchange--and as Henry wandered off to bed  Emma felt the tears at the back of her eyes.

She didn't want to want this.  Didn't want to want him.  The pain when this inevitably went south was going to be terrible.

She had a week until the next book exchange.  She needed to use that time fortifying her defenses against Killian Jones before she reached the point of no return.

*******

"Just a little more to the left," Alice said, taking a step back to look at the giant fir tree in their living room the following week.

Killian made the requested adjustment, and then got an enthusiastic "It's perfect" from his enraptured little starfish.

Seeing the holidays through the eyes of his daughter was magical.  She was such a sensitive soul.  She found delight in the beauty around her--and she had the unique ability to see beauty everywhere she looked.

Every holiday was a time of exceeding joy for Alice, but this particular Christmas season seemed to hold a special place in her heart, and Killian suspected he had Emma and Henry Swan to thank for that.

They'd only had the one meeting for dinner a week ago, but just the memory of it warmed Killian and made him smile.  Emma Swan was such a contradiction.  She'd been so prickly, so standoffish at their first meeting at the bookstore, but he'd seen a different side of her at home with her son.  She'd been relaxed, happy, smiling and laughing and delighting him with her witty banter.

She intrigued him more than any woman had since Milah.  She'd been beautiful at their first meeting, but at dinner--dressed in a red v-necked sweater that hugged her curves in all the right places--she'd nearly taken his breath away.

He sensed it would be quite a challenge to win her heart--should he choose to pursue it--but he rather liked a challenge.

At the end of dinner last week they'd decided to meet today for the next exchange, and Alice had started in right away to plan the next Swan-Jones get together.

"We need to decorate the tree together," She'd insisted on the way home from the Swans' abode.  "Maybe even get a start on some Christmas cookies."

Never one to deny his daughter anything if he could help it, he'd agreed to her plan.  Accordingly, they'd spent the ensuing week digging Christmas decorations from the attic, testing twinkle lights, and making multiple trips to the store for tree-trimming essentials.  

This morning was the last piece of the puzzle--the tree itself.  They'd made their way to Tiny's Christmas Tree Lot and been fortunate to find and cut down one of the handsomest trees Killian had ever seen.

Now all that remained was to wait until Emma and Henry arrived.

*****

Reaching up on her tiptoes, Emma placed the final ornament--a ceramic candy cane--on what was surely the only bare branch of the entire Christmas tree, and then she stepped back to survey her work.

"Pretty, isn't it?" She asked.

Killian looked over at her, taking in her cheeks flushed with exertion, her glossy blonde curls falling gently over her shoulders, her green eyes sparkling with happiness and felt his heart turn over.

"Beautiful," he breathed, never taking his eyes from her. "Absolutely stunning."

She looked over at him, hearing the adoration in his voice, and her breath caught as she noted the intensity in his eyes as he looked down at her.  Their eyes locked, and the color on her cheeks deepened.

He couldn't look away.  Wouldn't want to if he could.  She was so bloody gorgeous it almost hurt to look at her.  Slowly, inexorably he began to lean down, his eyes focusing on her lips.

For a split second she leaned toward him, and briefly, oh so briefly, he thought she'd allow him to sample those ruby-red lips, lips that he was sure would be far sweeter than the mulled cider he had waiting for them on the stove.

But then she seemed to come to her senses, shaking her head slightly and taking a step back.  She chuckled a bit nervously. "We did a good job on the tree, if I do say so myself."

For a moment the disappointment flooded him, but ever the gentleman, Killian took his own step back, muttering an agreement with her statement.  He knew enough about her history with Neal Cassidy to understand her fear, her hesitancy, but he was a patient man.  He could take all the time she needed to convince her that he was in this for the long haul and that she could trust him to cherish her heart should she one day give it to him.

"Aye, that we did," he replied genially.  "What say we adjourn to the kitchen to see what those two young scamps are up to?"

*********

Emma scooped up a fist-ful of snow as she hid behind a large oak tree.  Forming it into a ball, she stepped out and took aim.  

Bull's eye!  Her projectile made contact right between Killian's shoulder blades.  The man himself turned on her with a delighted grin that belied his growl of outrage.

"You'll pay dearly for that Swan!" He promised in a low, menacing voice that made her shiver in anticipation.  

She imagined him using that tone of voice under different circumstances.  What would it be like to hear him growl at her like that without their children present?  In a far more private setting?  With a lot few clothes between them?

She blinked and shook her head.  What was she doing fantasizing about Killian Jones?  Bad enough they had to see each other every week without her way-too-fertile imagination helpfully supplying images that made her want to fan herself, even in the midst of a polar vortex.

The next snowball hit her directly in the forehead, and Henry bent over amidst gales of laughter, pleased with the hit he'd scored for the boys' team.

Emma smiled at her son's antics as Alice pulled her back behind their oak tree home base.

"Don't worry," she said. "I'll take care of Henry.  You go get my Papa again."

Get him, drag him someplace private, kiss the daylights out of him…

Her inner voice really wouldn’t shut up today!

"Sounds good, kid," Emma said.  "Let's go show them what Team Girl is made of!"

Three weeks after Thanksgiving, with Christmas fast approaching, and with six inches of new snow falling overnight, the Swans and Jones had decided to take their book exchange outdoors.  Together they'd made a little snow family and then decided to commence a snowball battle for the ages--Killian and Henry versus Emma and Alice.

Emma had no idea who was getting the best of the battle--each side had managed to log several good hits, but what she did know was that she had no idea when she'd had nearly this much fun.

Gathering up another huge handful of snow, Emma stepped from behind the tree...and right into the path of a snowball, lobbed with unerring accuracy, by a man who was grinning ear to ear, clearly quite pleased with both his stealth and his prowess on the frozen field of battle.

Gods, that grin did things to her.  Terrible, terrible, delicious things.

"Oh you did not just ambush me!" She said, gripping her snowball more tightly.

"Aye, that I did," his grin impossibly widened, "What are you going to do about it?"

The way he popped that final "t" made her stomach swoop.  Emma's breathing quickened. "You're about to find out!" Emma said, beginning to advance on him.

The force of Emma's next snowball knocked Killian to the ground, and the momentum carried Emma forward as well--until she landed directly on top of him.

His breath left him in a whoosh at the contact, and Emma meant to roll off of him, she really did…

But then her eyes met his.  Green eyes connecting with a sea of blue.  It was as though she was frozen in place, drawn inexorably to him like a moth to a flame (gods, another cliche!).  He didn't move, merely looked up at her with eyes filled with surprise and desire.

Almost against her own will, her gaze drifted down to settle on his lips.  It was too strong, too much.  She could no more stop what was about to happen than she could have stopped the snow from falling last night.

Lowering her head, she took his lips with a hunger she hadn't felt in years...maybe ever. He groaned and then surged up to meet her, lips parting, hand tangling in her hair.  It was too much, and not enough.  Far from quenching the fire, this kiss seemed to only be fanning the need into flame.  Her hands gripped his collar pulling him even nearer.

"Did you get her, Killian?"

The sound of Henry's voice was as effective as a bucket of ice water poured over her head, and Emma got to her feet so quickly her head swam (or was that from the mind-numbing, toe-curling kiss she'd just shared with Killian?).  Behind her, she heard the rustling sounds that told her Killian had done the same.

The children came into view just as their parents got to their feet.  Oh gods, how much of that did they see? Emma wondered as embarrassment covered her like a cloak.

"Aye, that I did," Killian said in a voice that was far from steady, "but then she returned the favor with interest.  I suspect we'll have to call this particular battle a draw."

"That's okay!" Alice said, bouncing on the soles of her feet in her excitement.  "It's getting cold anyway.  How 'bout we all go to Granny's for some hot cocoa?"

She'd kissed him.  Oh gods she'd more than kissed him.  She'd full on made out with him right there in the snow with such wild abandon she'd lost all sense, all awareness of where they were and with whom.  If Henry hadn't interrupted she legitimately had no idea what might have happened next.

Her embarrassment morphed into shame and disgust with herself.

And fear.  So much fear.  

Killian and Alice both were becoming so very important to her, she knew it would hurt like hell when they left her.

No, far better to nip this in the bud before she got in any deeper.

Emma took a step back.  "Sorry, kid," she said Taking in both Alice and her father as she continued backing away.  "We've got to get going."

"But mom!" Henry protested.

"Give Alice the book and let's go!" Emma answered in a tone that brooked no argument.

Turning, she nearly sprinted back to her bug, hoping Henry would follow quickly behind.

What had she done?

She'd ruined everything, and now all she could hope was that she'd make it to the privacy of her own room before she broke down.

********

"What happened?" Alice asked on the other end of the phone later that night.

"Don't know," Henry answered miserably. "Everything was going so good, and then…I just don't know!"

"Didn't you say they were kissing when you found them?" Alice asked. "Why would your mom get so upset?"

Henry shrugged before remembering she couldn’t see him over the phone. "I don't know.  Sometimes I don't understand adults at all."

"All I know is my dad has been sad ever since," Alice said. "Somehow, you've got to make sure your mom comes over on Christmas Eve like we planned!"

******

"Mom, come on! We've got to go take the book to Alice!" Henry said.  "If we don't hurry we'll be late for Christmas Eve dinner with them!"

Emma groaned.  She forgot she'd agreed when Killian asked them over for tonight.  But that was before. Before a certain kiss for the ages, one she simply couldn't stop thinking about while she was awake or dreaming about when she slept.

His lips were so warm, firm yet gentle. The wet smacking sounds their mouths made as they turned one way then the next trying to go deeper, get closer, meld into each other. The taste of coffee and mint on his tongue. The way her body burned at every point of contact.  The way she wanted more, so much more.  The way she wanted EVERYTHING.

And that right there was the crux of the problem.  She didn't just want his body.  She didn't just want a quick roll in the sheets.  She wanted a white picket fence life. She wanted their kids growing up together. She wanted him, and it hurt so much she didn't know how she would deal with it.

"I'll drop you off there, kid," Emma said, "but I think I'm gonna have to pass.  I'm just...I'm just not up to it, okay?"

"Is it 'cause I saw you kiss Mr. Jones?" Henry asked with a frown, "'cause you're afraid I'd be upset?  I'm not upset!  I promise!  I like Mr. Jones and Alice.  I'd be happy if you went on dates with him and stuff."

Emma closed her eyes, feeling the pain well up again, and then she sat on the couch patting the seat next to her, waiting until Henry sat.  "It's not because of you," she assured. "It just….wouldn't be a good idea.  These things just don't seem to work out for me."

He was silent for a minute and then he took her hand. "Mom, not every guy's gonna be like my dad.  Not every guy's gonna leave us.  I know Killian really likes you, and I know you can trust him."

Emma wanted to believe that, wanted it more than any Christmas gift she'd ever gotten, but the fear was so strong, like a living clawing at her. "I don't know if I can take that chance."

"Please, Mom?" Henry pleaded.  "It's Christmas!  You can't just drop me off! We need to spend Christmas together!  It's what families do!"

And really what could she say to that?  How could she deny her kid his family at Christmas?

"Fine," she said on a sigh. "We'll go to the Jones's, but I don't want you to get your hopes up about anything happening between me and Killian."

****

Killian more than half expected Emma to cancel their Christmas Eve plans.  He felt as disoriented after that kiss as he would if he'd gotten whiplash.

They'd been having such a nice day--talking, laughing, flirting, playing.  And then she'd kissed the life out of him, leaving him feeling somehow both weak and boneless...and on fire with need for more.

And then the kiss was over and she was running away from him as quickly as she could manage.  He wasn't stupid; he understood her like the open book she was to him.  She was afraid. Her past had scarred her so badly he didn't know what it would take to heal her again.

Not for the first time, Killian wanted to hunt down Neal Cassidy and pummel him within an inch of his life.

Of course he was frustrated on his own account--his and Alice's, but even more so he ached at Emma's wounds, the ones that had yet to heal, the ones that were holding her back from happiness and love in her life.

She deserved better, she deserved so much better, but Killian knew she was afraid to reach for it.

He'd wanted to call her so many times over the past week, but he was afraid she wasn't yet ready to speak to him.

No, Killian certainly didn't expect her to keep their Christmas Eve date.

And so when he opened his door later that night to reveal not just Henry but Emma as well, his heart lurched in the pleasantest possible manner.

"Swan! Welcome!" He stammered as Henry pushed past them and the two children went off to amuse themselves elsewhere. "I was a bit afraid you wouldn't show up."

She glanced aside, everything about her looking uncomfortable. "I almost didn't.  Henry can be very persuasive, though."

"Swan, can we talk about the elephant in the room?" He asked after a moment.  Was it better to dance around the subject or attack it directly? He didn't know, but what he did know was that their kiss had sealed it in his mind.

He'd fallen deeply, passionately and irrevocably in love with Emma Swan.  What manner of man would he be if he let the love of his life out of his life without even a fight?

"Killian, it was only a kiss," she said, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. "How is that an elephant in the room?"

"It's what the kiss exposed," he answered, looking at her earnestly, willing her to see his sincerity. "I never thought I'd be capable of letting go of my first love, my Milah, to believe I could find someone else. That is until I met you."

Her eyes widened and she sucked in a deep breath as the impact of what he'd just said hit her.

"Killian…" she said warily.  She wanted to run; he could see it in her eyes.  He stopped her with a gentle hand to her arm.

"Emma, I don't say this to make you uncomfortable or to trap you into something you're uncomfortable with."

"Then why do you say it?" She asked, the anger heavy in her voice.  He knew her well enough to see the fear and pain beneath the anger.

"Because you deserve to be loved," he said simply. "You deserve a man who will cherish you with every beat of his heart.  If you don't wish that man to be me, I'll of course honor your wishes, but don't close yourself off from love, Swan.  It's worth it."

"Is it, though?" She asked in a voice that ached. "I can't fall for you and then lose you.  I can't.  I can't lose you too."

His heart hurt at the pain in her voice, and almost unconsciously he rubbed at her shoulders. "I don't know what the future will bring," he said "no one does.  What I do know is that I'd never leave you.  I'd never willingly hurt you.  Search me out.  See if I'm lying to you."

He forced himself to stay still, open and honest while she stared into his eyes.  After a moment she shook her head, something suspiciously like hope coming into her eyes for the first time all night. "No, I don't think you are."

"I'm not," he said firmly.  "So what do you say, Emma?  Will you take a chance on me? Take a chance on us?"

For a moment more she merely stood there, looking at him, and then she stepped forward kissing him slowly, gently.

From behind them came the sound of cheering.  They broke apart, laughing at the sight of their two kids standing behind them jumping up and down and high-fiving each other.

"I told you it would work!" Alice said.

"You aren't mad at us for being sneaky, are you?" Henry asked.

Emma laughed before reaching down and threading her fingers with Killian's. "Nope.  I think we are all gonna be so happy together there won't be any room left for anger, kid."

[lizacstuff]

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan Characters: Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Prince "Charming" James | David Nolan, Emma Swan, Henry Mills (Once Upon a Time), Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard Additional Tags: Christmas, Holiday, Romance, Family, Comedy Summary:

Killian shares a story with Emma and her family about one extraordinary Christmas past. Set after 4x11, as if Christmas was several weeks after those events.

REPOSTING an old Christmas fic of mine. Happy Holidays!

[jrob64]

Great start to what promises to be quite the adventure!

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!!

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Sleeps Ten, My Ass (1/2)

Summary: It's become tradition for Emma Swan to spend the holidays with her brother, their cousins, and their families. This Christmas was no different. The group booked a four night stay at a cozy mountain cabin to celebrate. The listing said it sleeps ten, but upon arrival they discover a small issue. The listing was wrong and now Emma and Killian Jones, the only two single people within their group, have to spend the next four nights sharing a bed. Fortunately... they've shared a bed before.

A/N: @eastwesthomeisbest it is I, your CS Secret Santa! Thank you for being so patient and understanding! I'm sorry I couldn't post this sooner, but between the normal busyness of the holidays and my entire family coming down with Covid, finding time to write was a struggle. I hope you find this worth the wait. It was lovely hearing about your traditions and I hope you had a fantastic holiday!

Thanks to @kmomof4 for looking this over for me and to the @cssecretsanta2020 for once again hosting a fantastic event. Side note, this fic also completes my Only One Bed: Holiday Edition CS Winter Bingo square!

Rated eventual E / Also available on ao3 / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!

Part One

She was late. Super late. Incredibly late. Late enough that she was certain her brother had already called the cops to report her missing. Late enough that it was already pitch black on the back mountain road, forcing her to drive at a creeping speed so she didn’t careen off the side of a cliff, which was making her even more late.

In her defense, they should all have expected that she’d be late. She was always late. Every dinner, every holiday get together, every vacation, every celebration, Emma Swan was always notoriously late.

Not because she didn’t want to spend time with her family. Far from. She just… wasn’t always in control over her own schedule. Bail bonds and bounty hunting wasn’t exactly a 9 to 5 gig, and when a mark finally crawled out of whatever hole in which he (it was more often than not a he) had hid himself away through some dumbass attempt to avoid the consequences of his own dumbass actions, well… many times it meant a change in her plans.

Was it annoying? Yes.

Did she make sure to take out that frustration on the perp? Also, yes.

Was it even worse for the offender when he made her late for the Christmas get-together her cousin Elsa had planned for them all - a four night stay at a picturesque mountain cabin big enough to sleep three married couples and two singles with amenities that would keep them cozy and content over the holiday? Oh, yes.

Big. Fat. Yes.

To go with the big fat payout she needed in order to pay her portion of said holiday getaway.

Rounding another winding corner, the soft glow of the illuminated cabin stirred a strange mix of sensations in her chest; a swirl of relief at nearly being there and panic over what was awaiting her inside. Parking her bug next to the vehicles that signalled she was indeed the last to arrive, Emma fortified herself for a moment before exiting the vehicle, grabbing her bag, and marching up to the cabin as though she were about to face a firing squad.

David, her brother, and Liam, Elsa’s husband, would likely scold her with their hands firmly planted on their hips or their arms crossed tightly over their chests. The rebukes would be drowned out by David’s wife, Mary Margaret, and Elsa’ sister, Anna, who would both rush at Emma and force her into claustrophobic hugs while they expressed their worry and relief, offering Emma a blanket, a place by the fire, a plate of food, a cup of tea, all without taking a breath between them as Anna’s husband, Kristoff, tried to tell the women to let Emma breathe and get settled.

The only one who would not be making a fuss would likely already have a drink ready for her, a knowing smirk teasing his lips as he tried to stifle an eye roll at the group’s overreaction.

Killian Jones. Liam’s brother and the only other single member of their group.

Hand on the doorknob, Emma took a deep breath and opened the door to the expected chaos. And chaos there was, but… none of it seemed to be about her and her tardiness.

Elsa and David were in the kitchen. One of their phones, clearly on speaker, was held between them as they argued with whoever was on the other end of the line. Liam and Kristoff were seated at the dining table with a laptop open, the elder Jones frantically typing and clicking as Kristoff scrolled on his phone with a furrowed brow.

“There’s nothing up here that could be used as an extra one,” Anna called out from the top of the stairs. “Mary Margaret and I have looked through all the closets and checked all the furniture.”

None of them had noticed her presence yet, and she was about to say something when heavy boot falls sounded from the porch behind her.

“Ah, Swan. You arrived in one piece then?” Killian said cheekily with an arm full of firewood.

“Uh, yeah,” she replied, setting her bag down so she could help with the load he was carrying. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No worries,” he assured her, making his way to the fireplace and stacking their logs beside the hearth. “You missed the initial excitement, but you’ve made it in time to witness the spiral everyone has since descended into.” Emma glanced around the cabin at the said spiral, wondering what had set everyone off as Killian added a couple of logs to the fire, then grabbed the poker so he could stoke it. “I told them I’d make do on the couch, or even a pallet on the floor, but--”

“Sleeps ten, my ass!” Elsa shouted as she angrily hung up the call. “They swapped out the couch and forgot to update the listing!”

“What?” Emma said, but no one other than Killian seemed to have heard her, or even realized she was there.

“That’s ridiculous!” Liam bellowed. “What do they plan to do about it?”

“Can they bring an air mattress or cot?” Kristoff asked, still scrolling through his phone. “Because none of the local stores seem to have one, and even if they did, they’d be closed by the time we got back to town.”

Killian stepped away from the fire he’d coaxed back to life and into the metaphorical one building at the kitchen island where the rest of their group - save for Emma - had gathered.

“I already told you, the couch will be fine.”

“Don’t be silly, Killian,” Anna replied. “Have you seen that couch? It’s far too narrow and your feet are gonna dangle off the end.”

“Then the floor will suit me--”

“For the amount of money we spent renting this place, you are not sleeping on the floor,” Elsa declared. “I cannot believe this! How could they make a mistake like that?”

“What did the owner say?” Mary Margaret asked, setting out a platter of food she’d removed from the fridge and encouraging everyone to eat something… as though snacking would somehow fix the issue. An issue Emma still wasn’t sure was the cause of everyone’s upset.

“He won’t do anything,” Elsa snapped. “He said they had to replace the couch, which had been a sleeper, and apparently forgot to update the listing, but didn’t see the problem since we only have eight people, not ten, and there are four king size beds.”

“Didn’t you explain that there weren’t four couples, though?”

“Oh, she did,” David interjected. “But the man didn’t seem to care about anything other than getting back to his tropical Christmas vacation.”

“So what do we do?” Anna asked. “Where is Killian gonna sleep?”

“He and I can just share the bed.”

Seven heads collectively snapped in her direction, a mixture of shock and surprise being directed her way as her family, for the first time, realized she was there and then computed her words.

Words she would later blame on the fact that although no one seemed bothered by the fact she was late, she still felt the need to make up for it and therefore was compelled to offer a solution to the problem, even if said solution meant sharing a bed with a man she absolutely did not have feelings for and no one would convince her otherwise, not even her own treacherous heart, and thereby torturing herself for the next several days.

“Are you sure, love?” Killian asked, his eyes scrutinizing her, looking for any hint that she might be regretting the offer and wished to back out. “I wouldn’t want you to do anything you weren’t completely comfortable with.”

“Are you planning to make it uncomfortable for her?” David asked in his overly protective, brotherly tone. “Because I’m warning you--”

“Warning him?” Liam braced his hands against the top of the island and leaned over it, staring David down as he asked, “Are you insinuating my brother is some sort of cad who would take advantage of--”

“We all know Killian’s reputation.”

“Okay,” Emma interjected before things could escalate further. “I think you’re all forgetting that I have a reputation, too. Of being able to take care of myself. Besides, I trust Killian. We’re both adults. There’s no reason for either of us to sleep on a couch or the floor when there is a perfectly good bed, big enough for us to share. So…” She marched back over to where she’d dropped her bag and collected it as she continued on, “If you don’t mind. I’ve had a long day and all I want right now is a shower and some sleep.” Directing her gaze to Killian she asked, “Where’s your stuff?”

“It’s uh…” he began, scratching behind his ear as he furtively cast a glance towards David. “It’s on the landing.”

“Great,” she said, turning towards the stairs. “Grab it on your way up so you can settle in while I shower.”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret called out. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat or--”

“I’m fine,” Emma answered back halfway up the stairs. “I’ll see you all in the morning.” Looking over her shoulder, she saw Killian hesitate at the bottom step. “Are you coming?”

“Aye,” he answered, following after her two steps at a time and grabbing his duffle before slipping into the room behind her.

Tossing his bag onto the bed, he glanced around the room and inquired one last time, “You’re certain you’re okay with this, Swan?”

“Yes, Jones,” Emma replied in an exasperated tone she hoped masked the nerves currently coursing through her. After gathering up her toiletry items, she straightened and faced him, a thought suddenly occurring to her. “Unless… You are uncomfortable with it and would rather--”

“No, no,” he insisted, his shoulders relaxing and his usual cocky demeanor coming forward. “It’s not that,” he said in a cheeky and slightly taunting tone.

“What is it then?” Emma asked, trying hard to not be taken in by his charm as he swaggered towards her.

“Well, I seem to remember you saying something about it being a one time thing the last time we shared a bed,” he crooned, twisting a section of her hair around his finger. “Seems you’ll have to eat those words now.”

Emma wet her lips and tried to squash the delighted feeling surging through her at the way his eyes dropped to follow the motion. “Bad form bringing up our… what did you call it?” she asked in a mocking tone as she cocked her head to one side. “Our dalliance?” He winced at her terrible attempt to mimic his accent and they both chortled as she reminded him, “I thought we agreed to never speak of that night again.”

“You’re right, Swan. Bad form indeed,” he conceded in a soft timbre. “My apologies, love.”

He backed away and retreated to the other side of the room where he made himself busy unpacking his duffle. “Go ahead and shower, Swan,” he said. “I’ll hop in after you.”

“Thanks,” she threw out over her shoulder as she shut herself in the bathroom, suddenly very eager to have a bit of separation from him. From him and the memory of that night. The night they had shared a bed - and a whole lot more - with one another after copious amounts of alcohol and hours on a dance floor somewhere in the Caribbean during the cruise they’d all taken together earlier that year to celebrate Liam and Elsa’s wedding.

A memory that stubbornly refused to be cast aside, making for a very long shower - a fitful, highly inappropriate shower - especially considering the man she’d been fixated on was in the next room, waiting on her to finish so he could get naked and wet and…

Dear God, Emma. Get a grip!

Emerging from the bathroom, adorned in her pajamas with her wet hair wrapped in a towel, Emma hoped the red in her cheeks would be chalked up to the heat of the shower and not because her fantasies had gotten away from her.

“All yours,” she said, pulling her hair dryer out of her bag and plugging it into the wall at the makeshift vanity.

She combed through the wet strands as Killian hovered at the doorway to the bathroom. Pausing her actions, she stared up at him expectantly, trying not to remember what he looked like shirtless.

“About before,” he said, his voice deep with an edge of concern. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by bringing up that night, I just…” He left out a heavy breath and ran his hand through his hair. “I was just trying to bring a bit of levity to an otherwise tense situa--”

“Killian,” she said, waving him off. “It’s fine. Really. You didn’t upset me by bringing it up.” Shrugging, she tried to give off a sense of nonchalance about the whole thing. “It happened. We’ve both moved on from it. No big deal.”

“Right,” he said with a bit of a drawl. “Well… I’ll try not to take too long, so as to not keep you up.” Glancing towards the bed, he said, “I hope it’s okay that I took that side. I didn’t know if you had one you preferred.”

Emma turned to see which side he’d taken. Not that it mattered.

“Honestly,” she answered, “I don’t really have one. It’s not like I share my bed often enough with anyone to develop a preference.”

“Aye. Same,” he replied with that adorable lopsided smile of his.

Emma’s heart fluttered for several seconds after he disappeared into the bathroom. He didn’t often share his bed? Really? Like David had said earlier, Killian had a bit of a reputation as a ladies’ man. It was one of the reasons she’d pulled back after their night together; she’d hated being just another notch on his bedpost.

How many notches had he added since her, she wondered.

She had plenty of time to contemplate that question. It wasn’t until well after she’d dried her hair, set her alarm, and settled under the covers that Killian emerged from the bathroom. The last drowsy thought Emma had was whether he’d taken advantage of the memory of them together to help let off some steam whilst he was in the shower like she had. She didn’t get a chance to dwell on the thought, though. The tiring day had caught up to her and sleep took over the moment she felt the bed dip beside her.

~/~

“Morning, Emma! Sleep well?”

Anna’s voice was far too perky for the current early morning hour, causing Emma to grimace as she shuffled past the red headed woman on her way to the kitchen.

“Oh, sorry,” Anna whispered, tiptoeing behind her. “Coffee? I just brewed a fresh pot.”

“Please,” Emma grumbled, slumping down onto one of the barstools at the island. “A fresh pot? How early did you get up?”

“Mary Margaret and I got up with the guys,” she said, pouring Emma a cup, then placing it and a tray of fixings on the counter top in front of her. “We wanted to make sure they got a good meal and some coffee before they headed out.”

Emma nodded her understanding, adding enough sugar to her cup that it would have earned her a disgusted look from Killian had he been there and not out traipsing through the woods with an axe. It was an annual tradition at this point. For the past five years - ever since the Jones brothers had entered their lives through Liam and Elsa’s courtship - the guys went out on Christmas Eve morning and cut down a tree for them to decorate. While they were out finding the perfect specimen, Mary Margaret would lead - or in Emma’s case, berate - the girls in making the decorations. The guys would join in once they got back and set up the tree, and the day would be spent stringing popcorn or dried oranges or cranberries for garland as well as attempting to avoid tiny cuts from the origami-esque construction of paper or cardboard ornaments.

There were also snacks and cocktails, the occasional break from crafting to watch a Christmas movie or play a game. Of course, every year, Emma and Killian would insist they watch Die Hard, which Mary Margaret would dismiss as not being a Christmas movie and an argument would ensue - mostly because it gave both Emma and Killian a perverse sense of pleasure to rile up Mary Margaret. Not that they didn’t love the movie or wholeheartedly believe that it was, in fact, a Christmas movie.

“Oh, Emma! You’re up!” Mary Margaret set down a stack of boxes on the island, the contents of which held various crafting supplies no doubt. “Did you get some breakfast?”

Emma shook her head and waved off the woman’s attempt to feed her. “Not yet,” she said. “I’ll get something after I’m sufficiently caffeinated.”

“Well drink up,” Mary Margaret ordered as she began to retreat back into the room she and David were using. “We need to get going on these decorations.”

A moment later she returned with several sacks and with Anna’s help, began organizing the supplies. Emma took that as her cue to find another place to enjoy her coffee.

Glancing out the French doors that led to the back deck she caught sight of a platinum blonde braid. Emma grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders before joining Elsa in the peace and quiet of the mountain morning.

“Hey,” she said, pulling Elsa’s attention away from the view. “Mind if I join you?”

“Please do,” Elsa replied, making room on the bench. “Do you want me to turn on the heater?”

It shouldn’t have surprised Emma that her cousin hadn’t already started the propane heater. The cold had never seemed to bother her like it did Emma.

“No, I’ve got it.” Emma cranked up the heat then sat down, snuggling into the blanket she’d brought out with her.

“Sleep okay?” Elsa asked. “Any problems with the room?”

“No,” Emma answered, taking a sip of her coffee before adding, “The room’s great. Very comfortable.”

“Good,” Elsa said, turning her attention back towards the snowy mountain view. “And sharing with Killian? That, uh… Did that go okay?”

Emma rolled her eyes and hid her knowing smirk behind her mug. “It was fine,” she replied.

“I mean, I’m sure Killian was a gentleman, I just hate that the two of you have to endure this awkwardness when I did my best to--”

“Elsa,” Emma interrupted. “It isn’t your fault, and we will make do. It’s fine. Really.”

The icy blonde’s shoulders relaxed and a puff of exhaled air lingered at her lips for a moment before she said, “Good. I’m glad.” With a furtive glance in Emma’s direction she muttered, “Let’s just hope David thinks it's all fine.”

“I’m a big girl,” Emma reminded her cousin. “David will get over it.”

“I don’t know,” Elsa replied in a sing-song tone. “He was looking pretty hostile this morning when Killian sauntered down the stairs with a whistle on his lips. I’m pretty sure Liam made sure to be the one who took the axe when they left.”

The two women shared a chuckle, both of them knowing full well there was no danger of the men resorting to violence, even if they did bluster a bit.

“I’m sure Killian is reveling in the opportunity to needle David, but I trust Liam to make sure cooler heads prevail.”

“And his needling wouldn’t have any elements of truth in it, right?” Elsa inquired, not so subtly.

Emma sighed exasperatedly. “No,” she stated adamantly. “Nothing happened, and nothing is going to happen.”

She shifted uncomfortably under Elsa’s scrutiny, her piercing blue eyes cutting through her assertions as she hummed a dubious sound.

“If you say so.”

Emma was about to double down on her words, but was cut off by Anna’s sudden appearance.

“Everything is ready! Come make decorations with us!”

Emma and Elsa shared a resigned look then followed Anna back into the cabin, after shutting off the heater, of course. The ladies then spent the next hour or so making handmade decorations whilst also prepping food items for the upcoming meals.

When the guys returned, Emma stayed out of the way. She’d learned from years past to just let David, Liam, Mary Margaret, and Elsa duke it out on the best way to set up the tree. While the four of them conferenced in the living room, she joined Anna in the kitchen, who was busy making everyone a hot cocoa.

“Need a hand?”

“Yes, please!”

The two women filled and garnished mugs of hot cocoa while every so often peeking outside to watch Kristoff and Killian clean up the tree. Once it was suitable for indoors - and they’d gotten the final word of where to set it up - the men brought it inside and secured it in the stand. Everyone stood back to admire the magnificent find as Emma and Anna handed out the beverages.

“Jones,” Emma said, offering him a hot cup as she came to stand beside him.

“Thank you, love,” he replied, slightly out of breath. A half-smile pulled at his lips and crinkled at the corner of his eyes when he noticed she’d adorned his in the same manner as hers - with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon. It was how she’d always taken her cocoa and slowly but surely she was converting the rest of their group to do the same.

“It’s a great looking tree,” she commented, sipping her hot chocolate nonchalantly so he wouldn’t read too much into her compliment.

“Aye,” he said, taking another long look at the fruit of his and the other men’s labor. A fruit that was quickly filling the living room with a pungent pine scent that tickled Emma’s sinuses. “And what of your efforts?” he asked, turning his attention onto her. “Care to show me what you lasses have been working on and how I might assist?”

Emma rolled her eyes and led him to the dining table where he prompted her to give him a demonstration of the crafting. Soon, the others joined them and the day went on just as Emma knew it would: completing the decorations, stringing lights and garlands, decorating the tree, gorging themselves on a big meal, partaking in snacks, then some drinks, then some more drinks, and arguing over then watching several Christmas themed movies and shows. Unfortunately, no Die Hard.

“You know, Swan,” Killian whispered in her ear as everyone began to disperse from the living room to turn in for the night. “We have a TV with streaming services in our room…”

The feel of his breath against the shell of her ear, as well as the way he said ‘our room’ sent a thrill up her spine.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice.

Was it fortunate?

“Your point?” she said, her voice a little too breathy, but maybe he’d think it was because they’d just climbed the steep steps to the second floor.

“My point,” he continued, following her into their - THE - room, “is once we’ve showered and readied ourselves, we can watch Die Hard in bed and celebrate the season properly.”

“Sounds like a plan, Jones,” she replied, even as her heart skipped a few beats at the reminder they’d both be taking turns getting naked and wet with only a flimsy door that did not lock between them.

Ever the gentleman, Killian let her go first. While he took his turn, she busied herself with getting ready for bed, queuing up the movie, and adding an extra blanket to the stack of covers. In no time, they were settled on their respective sides of the bed, enjoying watching John McClane run around Nakatomi Plaza barefoot whilst being a ‘fly in the ointment’ to Hans Gruber.

They both barely remained conscious, but somehow got to the credits before crashing. The constant recitation of dialogue probably helped.

At some point in the night, a rustling sound in the corner of the room stirred Emma. Instinctively, she reached over to feel for Killian, only to find his side of the bed empty.

“Killian?” she croaked out, his name heavy on her tongue from sleep. “What are you--”

“The heat went out,” he told her, making her aware of her own shivering and the frigid air of the room. “Elsa is having kittens over it,” he went on to explain. “Giving the owner a right earful as we speak.”

A low hum and soft glow began to fill the room. Killian stood and visibly shook himself before heading back to bed.

“What’s that?” Emma asked, shifting in bed and moving closer to the middle.

“Space heater,” Killian answered, still shivering from the cold. “The owner relented and gave us the code to the storage closet. There were a few of these in there.”

Emma hummed in response, her mind weighing whether to bring up the idea of--

“Swan?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you mind if we… that is,” he hedged, clearing his throat. “Until the heater manages to raise the temperature, would you be okay if we…”

“Sure,” she said, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically as she scooted closer to him.

“Thank you, love,” he murmured, his chest already plastered against her back and his face buried in the crook of her neck.

Emma moaned in relief, the heat of his body already warming her and staying the chills that had made her tense. In an effort to find a comfortable position for her legs - without entangling them with his - she rocked her hips back into his and felt…

“Bloody hell,” Killian grumbled in an embarrassed tone as he pulled away. “Apologies, Swan. I didn’t intend--”

“Killian,” she laughed, rolling over to face him. “It’s fine. It happens. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“I just don’t want you to think I have ulterior motives for suggesting--”

“I don’t,” she assured him. “I know guys can’t always control… that.”

“Well, I am usually much more in control of such things, I assure you.”

“I’m sure you are,” she said in an appeasing tone, earning her a side-eyed glare. “Seriously, though,” she continued, trying to coax him back to her. “Your morning wood doesn’t offend me, so will you please come back here.”

He relented after some not so gentle tugging, and a moment later they were once again entwined in the other’s arms.

“Mmmm,” Emma hummed, nestling a bit further into his chest. “How are you always so warm? I feel like I’m always cold.”

As Emma drifted off to sleep she was certain she heard him say, “I know, love. But I’ll always be here for you when you need to keep warm.”

Part Two

[jrob64]

Exacting His Revenge

- Chapter 3

I apologize for the long wait for this chapter. To reward you for your patience, I will give you another chapter after this one, for a total of 4. (You would have gotten it anyway because I am apparently just too wordy)

Happy birthday again to @kmomof4 and thank you again to @hookedmom for betaing this story.

Story Summary: When Hook sees an opportunity to finally get his revenge on Rumplestiltskin, he seizes it, putting him in the company of Emma Swan. A season 2 canon divergent story.

Rating: M (for eventual smut in chapter 4)

Words (Ch. 3): 6666

Posted on Tumlr - Chap. 1 Chap. 2 and also on ffn and Ao3

Story found under the cut

*********

As the ship got closer to Storybrooke, Hook noticed Emma frequently glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. When the lights of the town appeared on the horizon, he saw her draw in a deep breath, turn, and walk toward the steps leading to the helm. Slowly climbing them, she looked up and met his gaze.

“Is there something I can help you with, Love?” he asked.

“I was just wondering…what do you plan to do, now that you killed Gold?”

He chuckled lowly. “I’ve been wondering that myself.”

“Technically, you’re still under arrest. Now we’ll have to add escaping from jail to your charges.”

Hook reached up and scratched behind his ear. “Probably another assault charge, too.”

She widened her stance and crossed her arms. “What did you do?”

“I may have knocked your father unconscious with a pry bar.”

Rubbing her forehead in irritation, Emma sighed, “You’re a walking menace, you know that?”

“I couldn’t just sit in that concrete brig, while you were off by yourself with the bloody Dark One.”

Her eyes shot up. “You broke out of jail because you thought you had to save me?”

He dipped his head in a slight nod. “Aye.”

“Why?” she asked, disbelievingly.

“I knew what the crocodile was capable of doing. He would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Even though he needed you to help him navigate his way to his son, you were disposable once you found him.”

“You think he would have killed me? Knowing I had a son waiting for me back in Storybrooke?”

“He killed Milah knowing she had a son. Why would you be any different?” He watched her mull over her question. When she didn’t say anything else, he asked, “Do you think Baelfire will stay in Storybrooke?”

She shrugged indifferently. “I don’t know.”

“Do you wish for him to stay?”

“I don’t, but if Henry does, I guess I’ll have to accept it. First, I have to figure out a way to tell Henry about him, though.”

“You haven’t told him about his father?”

Her face scrunched into a grimace, something that Hook found to be quite adorable. “I sort of lied to him about Neal. I told him his dad was a firefighter who died saving people from a burning building.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Because I didn’t think there was a chance in hell I would ever see Neal again. And also because I didn’t want my kid to know his father was a lying thief who abandoned me.”

Hook glanced at Bae, still sitting beside his father’s body. He was glowering at them and Hook wondered if he had heard what Emma said, or was simply angry seeing Emma talking to him.

“The lad seems to be quite adaptable. I’m sure once he hears the whole story, he’ll understand.”

“I hope so,” Emma sighed. “The thing is, it’s already complicated enough trying to juggle his time between me and Regina. If Neal is added to the mix, I’ll get to see Henry even less.”

“He does have a right to see the boy, though, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah. It’s not like Neal abandoned him, too. He didn’t know I was pregnant when he took off.”

“You don’t think that the two of you, for the boy’s sake…”

“Not a chance!” Emma snapped. “Look, a lot has changed since Neal and I were together. I’ve matured and I’m assuming he has, too. But the only feelings I have for him are…well, they aren’t anything close to love, let’s put it that way.”

Hook nodded, trying to keep the happiness he felt about her declaration from showing on his face.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this,” she said. “I guess I just needed to blow off some steam, and you happened to be available.”

“I’m very happy to oblige, Swan,” Hook assured her.

Emma shifted her gaze forward and saw they were rapidly approaching Storybrooke. “If you want to sail away once we get Gold’s body off the ship, I won’t stop you,” she said conspiratorially.

“Why, Sheriff, do you intend to set your prisoner free?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“I’m just saying that since you don’t have any reason to stay in Storybrooke…”

“Ah, but I do have a reason, Love.”

Emma’s brow furrowed. “You do?”

“You promised to join me for dinner, remember?”

Her mouth dropped open. “Are you telling me you would give up your chance at freedom just to keep our deal?”

“A gentleman keeps his word, and as I told you atop the beanstalk, I’m always a gentleman.”

“You know I’ll have to lock you up as soon as you step foot off this ship.”

“And you know I won’t stay in that cell.”

“Seriously?”

“Pirate,” he said smugly.

“Are you going to dock the ship, Hook, or are you two going to keep making eyes at each other and let it crash into the pier?” Baelfire asked, his tone venomous.

“We don’t make eyes,” Emma said, rolling hers.

“Coulda fooled me,” he grumbled.

Hook began giving directions to the two of them, as he guided the ship into a berth. Emma was quick to follow, but Bae purposely lagged, earning him some sharp words from the captain.

Once the ship was tied off, Emma pulled out her phone. “I’m calling my dad. Hopefully, he can arrange transportation for Gold’s body as quietly as possible. I don’t want Belle to find out about his death until I get a chance to tell her.”

Hook and Bae stood on either side of her as she spoke to her father. When she ended the call, she looked from one to the other. “Are you going with me to talk to Belle?” she asked Neal.

“I thought you were going to take me to meet our son.”

“Not tonight. It’s late and he’ll be in bed.”

“But I…”

Emma angrily planted her hands on her hips. “Neal, if you want to meet him, you’re playing by my rules, got it?”

He stared at her for a few moments before dropping his eyes. “Fine. I’ll come with you to talk to Belle and wait until tomorrow to meet Henry.”

Pivoting to face Hook, she said, “You can stay on your ship tonight. If you’re still here tomorrow, I’ll deal with you then.”

“I look forward to it, Love,” he smirked.

If the look Baelfire gave him could kill, there would have been another body joining Gold’s on the deck.

*********

Hook lay in his bunk, staring at the ceiling of his cabin and replaying the events of the day. It should have been the most satisfying day in his long life. Milah’s murderer was finally dead and the darkness was permanently dispelled. Milah was avenged, her soul could rest. For the first time in hundreds of years, he should be able to sleep peacefully.

Then why was he so restless?

Oddly enough, the stabbing of Rumplestiltskin and his subsequent death weren’t foremost in his thoughts. It was his interactions with Emma Swan - every word, gesture and facial expression - which were keeping him awake. She was under his skin and he didn’t know what to do about it.

He felt guilty about the direction of his thoughts. Ever since that most horrible of days, he mourned his Milah and promised anew that he would love her until the day he finally died. Sometimes he sought female companionship, but it was only ever for a single night, never with the same woman twice, and never on his ship. He didn’t want to besmirch the love he and Milah had for one another by bringing another into their bed. Now, he was lying here, his mind filled with images of a lass whom he longed to know better and whose heart he had decided to win.

“I’m sorry, Milah,” he whispered into the darkness.

Knowing sleep was going to continue to elude him, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Grabbing his flask off of the nightstand, he took a healthy swig and savored the familiar burn down his throat. Then he got up and lit the lantern on his desk. If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well read.

He gave up after ten minutes. Sighing, he slammed the book closed, then donned his leather duster and ascended the ladder. He walked the decks of the Jolly Roger, rubbing non-existent smudges from her highly polished railings, double checking that her sails were folded correctly, and trying to convince himself that she was the only love he needed in his life.

The problem was, his heart wasn’t listening to logic.

Sleep didn’t come until an hour before daybreak. Thankfully, he didn’t enter REM sleep, so he wasn’t able to determine which woman would appear to him in his dreams.

*********

It was almost noon when Emma made it back to his ship. “Still here, I see,” she called up to him from where she stood on the pier.

“I assured you I wasn’t going to leave.”

She eyed him critically. “Are you alright? You look like hell.”

“Why, thank you very much, Swan. How kind of you to notice.”

“I thought you would be the happiest person on Earth, now that you’ve finally gotten your revenge.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps the day was too stimulating to allow me to sleep well.” Seeing her about to speak again, he cut in. “Where is Baelfire this morning?”

Emma closed her eyes and shook her head disgustedly. “I already regret bringing him here. He’s driving me crazy, asking to meet Henry.”

“You haven’t introduced the two of them yet, I take it?”

“No. Henry was at Regina’s last night and was off to school before I woke up this morning. Neal thinks I should pull him out of school. I keep telling him I want the chance to talk to Henry first, but he’s really pushing it. I managed to sneak away from him while he and Belle were making arrangements to bury Gold.”

While she was talking, Hook was making his way down the gangplank to stand in front of her. “I have no doubt you will stand your ground against him, Love.”

“I know. It’s just…things were good between me and Henry since Mary Margaret and I got back to Storybrooke. Now I have to tell him I lied to him and I’m afraid he’s going to hate me.”

Hook’s mind flashed to Baelfire’s reaction when he discovered the drawing of Milah in the captain’s quarters. His words were full of hatred and betrayal. To this day, he hadn’t forgiven him. Hook certainly hoped Henry wouldn’t react the same way.

Hoping to divert Emma’s worries, he asked, “How did Belle take the news last night?”

“Just as you would expect; she’s devastated. She was relieved to know that Gold found his son before he died. We didn’t tell her Neal was furious with his father for killing his mother and refused to forgive him. I’m assuming Belle didn’t know Gold’s role in Milah’s death.”

“Do you think if she did, she would have ever become involved with the bloody demon?”

“No, probably not. Belle tries to find the best in everyone, but hearing that bit of news might have been too much for even her.”

“You told her the, uh, the circumstances of his death?”

“Yeah. Let’s just say you’re definitely not her favorite person. She’s still recovering from the gunshot wound you gave her and now you killed her boyfriend.”

Hook grimaced. Thinking of the Dark One as someone’s ‘boyfriend’ turned his stomach. Not wanting to think about Rumplestiltskin anymore, he changed the subject. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this morning, Swan?”

“I have to take you back to jail. Everyone in town knows you’ve returned. Letting you go free after you shot someone isn’t going to sit well with them.”

“Even though I rid your fair town and the world of the Dark One’s power?”

“The people in town don’t know that yet. Belle isn’t planning to tell them until after Gold is buried. I’m sure the news will leak out soon. Until then, I don’t want Leroy running around town yelling, ‘Killer on the loose! Killer on the loose!’”

Reaching around behind her back, she extracted handcuffs and held them up between them.

“Again?” Hook sighed. “You’re really into this, aren’t you?”

“Standard procedure,” she explained. “Hand and hook behind your back.”

With a dramatic display of reluctance, he did as told. They walked down the pier and onto the beach, then over to the squad car in a moment of deja vu.

On the way to the sheriff’s station, Hook asked, “How is your father, Swan?”

“He has a headache and a good sized lump on his head, but he’ll be fine. You’re not his favorite person, either. In fact, you don’t have many people on your side in this town, which is why I figured you would take the opportunity to leave when I offered it to you.”

“There’s only one person I wish to have on my side, Love. I couldn’t care less about anyone else.”

She glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “You’re really adamant about having that dinner with me, aren’t you?”

“I would never have allowed the bloody crocodile aboard my ship if you hadn’t agreed to that. I fully intend to collect what is owed to me.”

“You might have to settle for Granny’s takeout in your cell, while I eat at my desk.”

“I believe the deal was dinner on my ship.”

“Yeah, well, you might be locked up for quite a while, depending on what Regina says.”

“What does Regina have to do with it?”

Emma pulled up to the station, put the car in park and turned it off. Twisting in her seat, she said, “We don’t have a court system in Storybrooke, so the mayor decides on punishment for crimes. That’s the way she set it up during the curse and we never changed it. Considering the fact you killed her mother, I doubt Regina will be lenient toward you.”

“Regina and I had…an understanding before the curse was cast. I’m sure she will consider that.”

“What sort of understanding?” Emma asked.

Hook leaned forward, putting his face close to the divider between the front and back seat. “Let’s just say we also had a deal. It took a while, but I finally kept my end of it.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “You made a deal with Regina to kill her mother?”

“The two of them never had what you might call a close mother-daughter relationship.”

“Just when I thought I heard it all,” Emma mumbled, unbuckling her seat belt and opening the car door.

After releasing him from the back seat, she walked him into the station, her hand gripping his elbow. Upon entering the main area, David rose from the desk, strode across the room and punched Hook in the face.

“Dad!” Emma yelled.

“That’s for the last time we met,” David said, shaking his hand slightly.

Hook licked his bloodied lip before replying, “I thought you might be a bit more genial, considering I brought your daughter home safely.”

“You knocked all the genial out of me when you hit me with that crowbar.”

Emma led Hook across the room, removed the cuffs, unlocked the cell and gestured for him to enter. Dabbing at his lip, he walked in, winking at her as he passed. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he detected the hint of a smile on her face.

She slammed the door closed, then turned as an afterthought. “I almost forgot. Give me your hook.”

“If you want to hold something, Love, I have a perfectly good hand,” he offered slyly, holding up his hand and wiggling his fingers.

She huffed, but he saw the corners of her mouth turn up again. “Just hand over the hook, funny guy.” As he twisted the hook out of the brace, she added, “And while you’re at it, give me whatever you used to pick the lock last time.”

“I thought you didn’t care if I escaped and sailed away, Swan.”

“You said you wouldn’t leave until I kept my part of the bargain.”

“Ah, yes, our dinner together,” he said, glancing toward David as he said it. His reaction to Hook’s statement didn’t disappoint.

“Your what?” he shouted.

“Calm down, Dad,” Emma said, rolling her eyes. “I had to make a deal with him so he would agree to bring Gold back to Storybrooke. It’s just dinner.”

“On my ship,” Hook contributed.

“On his ship?!”

Emma threw Hook a frustrated glare, before turning to her father. “I’ll say it again - it’s just dinner. And it’s probably not going to happen anytime soon. Regina will have to decide what to do with him. In fact, I need to go to her office to bring her up to speed.”

David checked his watch. “I’m supposed to be over at the cemetery in ten minutes to guard against anyone going in while they’re burying Gold.”

Emma sighed. “We probably shouldn’t leave Hook alone. Can you get Leroy to come over and keep an eye on him again?”

“Is that really necessary?” Hook asked.

David narrowed his eyes at Hook for several seconds before picking up the phone.

Turning back to Hook, Emma stated, “Guess that answers your question. Now, hand it over.”

With a dramatic sigh, he passed his hook through the bars into her waiting hand. She accepted it, then held up her other hand. He threw her his most charming smile, but she just tilted her head and speared him with another meaningful glare. Reluctantly, he reached into his pocket and removed the long hairpin.

As she accepted it, she asked, “Why do you have this thing, anyway?”

“As you can imagine, managing all of these buttons one-handed is quite difficult, so I use that to help pull them through the buttonholes.”

“I think you missed a few,” she murmured.

“Ah, so you’ve noticed,” he cheeked.

She turned away, but not before Hook saw the blush that colored her cheeks. With a satisfied smirk, he crossed the cell and took a seat on the cot.

David left before Leroy arrived, giving Hook some time alone with Emma. “Do you have a preference of what to eat for our dinner together, Swan?”

“You’re awfully presumptuous, thinking you’ll be out of jail anytime soon.”

“I did Regina a favor by killing Rumplestiltskin. I have a feeling she’s going to take that into consideration when she decides my fate.”

“People in town love and respect Belle. They won’t be happy if you get off scot-free for shooting her.”

Hook scuffed his boots back and forth on the floor. “I do feel bad for shooting the lass. I’m glad I only wounded her.”

“At least you’re remorseful,” Emma remarked.

Before Hook could respond, Leroy burst into the office. “I’m here, Sister,” he blustered. Walking straight up to the bars of the cell, he spouted, “No funny business. I’m watching you, Pirate.”

Hook stood and sauntered over to stand in front of him, “Yes, Dwarf. That should deter me from any malfeasance.”

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” Emma said.

Leroy and Hook continued glaring at each other for several seconds, until Leroy broke eye contact to say, “Charming didn’t tell me why he isn’t able to be here. Is he out on a call?”

Emma and Hook exchanged a quick look. “Um, yeah. Something like that,” Emma mumbled vaguely.

“Well, as long as one of you is back by dinner time. Granny will run out of bacon for my burger if I get there too late.”

“It looks like you could afford to forgo dinner now and then,” Hook muttered.

“Behave yourself, Hook,” Emma cut in before Leroy got a chance to respond.

After she left, Leroy sat down and began swiveling in the chair, keeping an eye on Hook. “So, I’m assuming you followed Sheriff Swan to New York after you knocked out her father?”

“You must be the smart dwarf,” Hook said, resuming his spot on the cot.

“Then how are the two of you back, but there’s no sign of Gold? Did you leave him in New York?”

“I have no idea of the Dark One’s location.” He wasn’t technically lying. The darkness dissipated, but he didn’t know where it went.

Leroy crossed his arms over his chest. “You expect me to believe that?”

Hook shrugged. “It makes me no difference what you believe. I went to New York to ensure Swan’s safety and as you can see, I accomplished that objective.”

Leroy leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “Are you sweet on the sheriff?”

Hook very deliberately laid down and turned toward the wall, his back facing the dwarf.

“Because if you are, you’re never going to get her,” Leroy continued. “Her parents and most of the town won’t allow it. She’s too good for the likes of you, Pirate.”

Hook closed his eyes, trying to go to sleep so he wouldn’t have to listen to the grumpy man any longer. It didn’t work. Even though Leroy stopped talking, the last words he said kept replaying themselves over and over in Hook’s mind.

She’s too good for the likes of you, Pirate.

*********

Word of Gold’s death did indeed leak out, and soon the entire town was aware that they were free of the Dark One forever. Besides expressing their condolences to Belle, they didn’t show any signs of sadness over his loss.

Neal was greeted with trepidation. Granny reluctantly offered him a room at the boarding house and reassured the townspeople that she would keep an eye on him. If he showed any inkling of being like his father, she wouldn’t hesitate to use her crossbow.

Regina stopped in at the sheriff’s station the day after the ship arrived back from New York. After telling David she needed to speak to Hook privately, she stepped in front of his cell and glared at him through the bars.

“Your Majesty,” he drawled. “Or should I say ‘Madam Mayor’?”

“Is it true you’re responsible for my mother’s death, Hook?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Word gets around. Now answer the question.”

“Aye, Love. I finally carried out your noble request.”

“Once the curse was cast, the request was null and void.”

“I wasn’t made aware of any alteration in plans or any changes in your feelings toward your mother. Just because I didn’t do it when you initially sent me to do so, the result is still the same. Now don’t try to tell me you grieve her passing, or that you would have welcomed her to Storybrooke with open arms.”

Regina’s mouth tightened into a straight line before she answered, “You know I didn’t want her here.”

He gave a slight nod. “That’s correct, so I did you a favor. And another by killing Gold. I’d say you owe me, Your Majesty.”

“I suppose you think I should give you some huge reward,” she growled. “What’s your price, Hook?”

He rose from the cot and slowly moved to stand in front of her. “My freedom will do nicely.”

Regina’s perfectly groomed eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s all you want? That doesn’t sound like the greedy pirate I know.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “My life’s goal has been met. I have enough doubloons to last me for another three hundred years. What more could I possibly need?”

She crossed her arms and studied him. “If I grant your freedom, I assume you will leave town.”

“Never assume anything.”

“Why would you stay?”

Hook studied his fingernails. “I don’t believe my plans are any of your business.”

“I’m the mayor of Storybrooke. Everything is my business.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You might control your townspeople, but…”

“I brought lunch, Hook.” He looked over Regina’s shoulder to see Emma coming into the room, holding a brown paper bag aloft.

Regina heaved an exaggerated sigh and turned to look over her shoulder. “Didn’t your idiot father tell you I wanted to speak to Hook without being interrupted?”

“I haven’t seen David,” Emma replied coolly. “I’ve been out on patrol all morning. I’m happy to report no one is breaking any laws.”

“No one except him,” Regina said, jerking her head towards Hook.

Emma set the bag of food on the desk. “Well, he’s locked up, so I don’t think we’ll have to worry about him.”

“Apparently he broke out once before and he’s a pirate. Locking him up doesn’t guarantee he won’t break out.”

“He doesn’t have any reason to break out this time, do you, Hook?”

“Alas, no. All of my objectives have been met.”

“I still don’t trust him,” Regina said.

“You needn’t worry, Madam Mayor. Your sheriff is quite efficient,” Hook said. “She particularly enjoys using her handcuffs on me, don’t you Swan?”

He was satisfied to see her cheeks turn pink. She changed the subject by asking, “Have you decided on his punishment yet?”

“Perhaps she’ll sentence me to house arrest with you. Do you have a spare bed? If not, I’m willing to share.”

Regina looked back and forth between them, her mouth set in a firm line. “Miss Swan, if you don’t mind, I haven't finished speaking with your boyfriend.”

Hook suppressed a chuckle, as Emma’s mouth dropped open. “My boyfriend? Hook? What’s your problem, Regina?”

“My problem,” Regina spat, “is that you’re impeding my job.”

“Fine,” Emma shot back. “I’ll be in the other room, eating lunch. When you finally finish your job, let me know.” Picking up the sack, she turned on her heel and went into the small inner office, slamming the door behind her.

Seeing her stand up to Regina filled Hook with pride and more than a little desire. Emma Swan was fiery and fierce, just the way he liked his women.

With effort, he turned his attention back to Regina. She was drumming the manicured fingernails of her right hand on her left bicep. “I’m willing to bet one of your reasons for remaining in Storybrooke involves Miss Swan.”

“I would have never guessed you were one for gambling, Your Majesty.”

She glared at him as Hook stared back at her unflinchingly, plastering a bored look on his face. After nearly a minute, she called loudly, “Sheriff Swan, come out here!”

Emma emerged, chewing and rubbing her hands on her jeans. “You bellowed?”

“I do not bellow,” Regina remarked snarkily. “I’ve come to a decision about this prisoner. He needs to be punished for the attempt he made on Ms. French’s life. Therefore, I sentence him to one month in jail. By that time, maybe he’ll be ready to board his ship, sail away and be some other realm’s problem.”

With that, she spun around and walked out the door, heels clicking on the cement floor.

Emma watched her go, then turned to face Hook. “Looks like you’re going to be our guest for a while longer.”

“Aye, but at least my jailer is a welcome sight to behold.”

“You told me you won’t stay in this cell. Do I need to make sure someone is here to watch you around the clock? Because I’ll be damned if I’m going to chase you down every other day.”

“As tempting as it is to have you running after me, I give you my word as a gentleman that I will not escape.”

She narrowed her eyes as she studied him to detect any trace of deceit. Finding none, she said, “Don’t make me regret trusting you, Hook.”

He wrapped his hand around the bars of the cell. “You’re going to take my advice and try something new, eh Swan?”

Hooking her thumbs in the back pockets of her jeans, she shrugged. “You went all the way to New York to make sure I was safe, and didn’t leave when I gave you the chance. I guess you’ve earned my trust.”

Hood couldn’t keep the grin off of his face. The fact that she trusted him was definitely a step in the right direction toward winning her heart. He reached through the bars and twisted a lock of her hair around his finger, enjoying the silky feel of it against his calloused skin. “I’m very happy to hear that, Love.”

She was just opening her mouth to reply, when Baelfire entered the room. Hook’s eyes shifted to the other man, causing Emma to look over her shoulder. As soon as she saw Neal, she stiffened.

Bae stopped short when he saw how close the couple was standing. Then he saw that Hook had a lock of Emma’s hair wrapped around his finger and his face turned crimson.

“What’s going on here, Ems?” he blustered.

“Nothing,” she answered tightly.

“Doesn’t look that way to me. Looks like the fucking pirate is trying to seduce you, just like he did my mother.”

“Give it a rest, Neal. He’s behind bars and that’s where he has to stay for a month.”

“A month?” he shouted. “That’s all he gets for killing my father?”

“Actually,” Hook began, “that sentence is for shooting Belle French. Regina felt I did the town a favor by ridding it of the Dark One.”

“What the fuck? You’re just going to get away with murder?” Neal raged.

“Oh, come on, Neal,” Emma groaned. “You’re the one who said to just let your dad die. Now you want to act like the grieving son? I don’t buy it.”

He walked over to stand in front of the cell, looking back and forth between Hook and Emma. Hook untangled his finger from her hair and pulled his hand back. As much as he wanted to smirk at the angry man, he decided it was best not to add fuel to the fire. He didn’t want to put Emma in an even more uncomfortable position.

Bae turned his back toward Hook and tried to step between Emma and the bars. “Isn't it about time for Henry to come home from school, Ems?”

She heaved a sigh and turned to look at the clock on the wall. “School lets out in half-an-hour. Once my dad gets back to the station, I’ll leave to go pick Henry up.”

“Cool. I’ll come with you.”

Emma folded her arms over her chest and fixed him with a fierce scowl. Hook was quite happy not to be on the receiving end of it. “No, you will not. I’ve already told you that I need to talk to Henry first. I want to prepare him to meet you.”

“What’s there to prepare? You just say, ‘Henry, this is your father.’ What’s so hard about that?”

“For fuck’s sake, Neal! He thinks his father is dead!”

“Why the hell would he think that?” Neal yelled.

“Because that’s what I told him! I said you were a firefighter who died as a hero…”

Neal leaned forward until his face was mere inches away from hers. “What the fuck, Emma? Why would you do something so idiotic?”

Emma didn’t back away from him as she spoke through gritted teeth. “Would you rather I told him that his dad was a thief and a liar who abandoned me and let me go to jail for a crime he committed?”

When Hook saw Neal grasp Emma’s arms, he had enough. “Let go of her, Bae!” he demanded, reaching through the bars to grab the other man’s jacket.

“Stay out of this, Hook!” Baelfire shouted, jerking away from Hook’s grip, letting go of Emma at the same time. “She’s not yours to protect!”

“She’s not yours, either!” Hook shot back.

“That’s enough!” Emma exclaimed. “Neal, you need to leave. After I’ve had a chance to talk to Henry, I’ll call you. That is, if he wants to meet you today. If he needs more time to process everything, that’s what he’ll get. And you will agree to it, or you won’t meet him at all. Is that clear?”

“I came all this way and he’s my son. You can’t keep me from seeing him.”

“I can and I will if you don’t back off. Go back to your room at the boarding house and wait for me to call.”

Hook watched carefully to see what Baelfire would do next. If he continued to defy and bully Emma, Hook would find some way to get out of the cell and go to her aid.

After several more moments of glowering at Emma, Bae finally stomped out of the office, nearly running into David, who was on his way in.

“What’s wrong with him?” he asked.

“He’s demanding to see Henry and I’m making him wait. I need to talk to Henry first.”

David took off his jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. “I can understand his impatience. He just found out he has a son; it’s only natural to be anxious to meet him.”

“You’re taking his side?” Emma asked.

“I didn’t realize you two are on opposite sides. I thought you were, um…”

Emma’s eyes widened. “Do you think we’re together?”

“Well, you do have a child together and you just found each other again after so many years.”

She put her hands on her hips. “If I had my way, I would have never seen him again.”

David’s jaw dropped. “But Mary Margaret and I thought the two of you…”

“Well, you thought wrong!” she spouted, then angrily grabbed her keys and pushed past him.

He stood rooted to the spot, staring at the door through which she just disappeared. Almost to himself, he murmured, “I’m so confused. Why wouldn’t she want to…”

“Be with Baelfire?” Hook interrupted. “Have you ever asked your daughter about the father of her child?”

David turned around, the look on his face making it clear the answer to Hook’s question was ‘no’. Instead, he said, “That’s none of your business.”

“Perhaps not, but Emma did share with me what happened between them, and let’s just say she has good reason not to want to be with him.”

“Why would she tell you and not her mother and I?”

Hook shrugged. “I think she felt a bit…trapped by the whole situation of him coming to Storybrooke and she wanted to share her side of the story with someone. I just happened to be available.”

“Did he hurt her?”

“Not physically, but that’s all I’m going to say. It’s not my story to tell.”

David eyed him critically for several seconds, then stepped closer to the cell. “Let me give you a bit of advice, Hook. She’s never gonna like you.”

“Is that so?”

“Well, how could she? You’re nothing but a pirate.” With those words, he spun on his heel and walked away.

The cocky smirk on Hook’s face faded as he watched David go. For the second time in two days, he had been told that Emma Swan would never be with him because he wasn’t good enough for her. The one consolation he had was that neither time, it was Emma who said it. He would have to cling to the hope that she didn’t feel the same way.

*********

Hook didn’t expect to see Emma any more that day, so when she came into the station soon after he finished eating the meal Granny provided, he was pleasantly surprised. However, seeing the agitated state she was in, his pleasure soon turned to concern.

“I thought I was finishing out this shift,” David said.

“I know, but I figured you would want to spend the evening with Mary Margaret, and since Henry is staying at Regina’s…”

“What? Why is he doing that? I thought you were introducing him to Neal.”

“Yeah, well, let’s just say things didn’t go as planned,” she said sadly.

“Emma, if you need to…”

“Look, Dad,” she sighed, “I really don’t want to talk about it right now. I’ll be home in a couple of hours, okay? Maybe by then, I’ll be ready to tell you what happened.”

Hook thought David was going to argue with her, but after a few moments, he blew out a heavy sigh and said, “Okay. I’ll see you at home. Be careful.” After kissing her forehead, he gave Hook a warning look, then left.

Emma dropped into a chair, threw her head back and groaned.

“Alright there, Swan?” Hook asked.

She was motionless for so long, he thought she wasn’t going to answer. Finally, she sat up and put her head in her hands. “Not really. Henry is very pissed at me for lying to him. He had no interest in meeting Neal and insisted on going to Regina’s because he doesn’t want to be around me. Then when I called Neal, he went off on me, saying it was all my fault his son refused to meet him.”

“I’m sorry, Love.”

She didn’t reply. He felt helpless seeing her sitting there, looking so defeated.

When she finally stood up, she paced back and forth in front of his cell. “Why did I ever think I could do this? I know nothing about being a mom. I probably screwed him up for life. First I gave him away, then I lied to him about his father…”

“Emma, stop,” Hook said firmly.

She stood still, looking at him with tear-filled eyes. “It’s true.”

“No, it’s not. It sounds to me like you made a very courageous decision by giving him up for adoption. Bae abandoned you and left you with very little choice. As far as telling him Baelfire was dead, you had no idea Henry would have a chance to meet him someday. You wanted to spare him the pain of knowing his father was a bloody coward, just like his own father before him. In my opinion, there was nothing wrong with telling Henry he was a hero. It was far kinder than the truth.”

“He was so angry,” she whispered hoarsely. “He may never forgive me.”

Hook’s heart ached for her. “Come here, Love,” he said softly, stretching his hand out through the bars.

She shook her head, wiping at her eyes. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

“Emma, look at me,” he coaxed.

Slowly, she raised her eyes. Even more slowly, she reached forward to place her hand in his. He gave a little tug to pull her closer. When she was near enough, he attempted to put his arms around her, frustrated that the cell bars were between them.

“This is stupid,” she said, turning her back and walking away. He almost groaned in frustration, until he realized she was pulling a set of keys out of the desk drawer. She approached the cell again, hesitating briefly before unlocking the door. After swinging it open, she stood uncertainly, shifting from foot to foot.

Hook stepped through the doorway and into her space. Locking eyes with her, he silently asked permission and upon receiving it, gently pulled her into his arms.

At first, her body was stiff and unyielding, but as he rubbed his hand and wrist up and down her back, she gradually relaxed and let him comfort her. “You’re a good mother, Emma. Henry knows that, and he will forgive you.”

“How can you be so sure?” she mumbled into his chest.

“Because I know first-hand how hard it is to stay away from you.” He heard her scoff lightly, but she didn’t say anything. He didn’t know how long she let him hold her, but he relished every second.

Finally pulling away from him, she said, “Thank you, Hook.”

Using his finger to lift her chin, he looked into her beautiful jade eyes and requested, “Will you please call me Killian, Love?”

She blinked, then gave him a small smile. “Okay…Killian.”

*********

Thank you for reading! The final chapter is probably about half written, so hopefully it won't be as long a wait for it.

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[grimmswan]

Love Bites (But So Do I) part 5

Captain Swan Supernatural Summer @cssns

In his search to find a way to make Emma his again, as well as do away with her werewolf lover, Neal learned of a witch that would create a potion for anything a being desired.

For the right price, of course.

“I need three potions. One to kill a werewolf. One to make the woman I want desire me again. And one that will allow me to sneak up to them and administer the first two.”

“That which you desire comes with a high price. Are you willing to pay it?”

Neal didn’t care what the price was. It was well worth it if it meant destroying his rival and having Emma back.

But he started second guessing things when it wasn’t gold the witch wanted, but half of his strength and his vampire speed.

He was barely able to defend himself with his abilities fully intact. If he were weakened, he would not stand a chance in a confrontation.

Neal went through with the transaction. Certain that once Killian was dead, and Emma was in love with him again, he would have nothing to worry about.

The witch crushed some herbs over Neal’s head and muttered a few words. A green smoke emerged from his mouth, drifting to an empty vial that the witch quickly put a cork into once it was full.

Payment made, the witch went to her cupboard and retrieved the potions Neal desired.

Holding up a vial that glowed yellow, the witch said, “Before you enter the property of your former lover and her beast, pour this over yourself. They will be unable to smell or hear you coming.” Holding up a glowing blue vial, she continued, “This potion will render any being powerless for three minutes.” Holding up the third vial, that switched from black to red, and back to black, the witch cautioned. “I would suggest you throw the vials at your attended targets at the same time, and act fast. The third potion will make your desired beauty forget everything and become your mindless slave, but only if she is away from everything that would remind her of her past.

Not wanting to waste any time, Neal rushed to the grand home Emma and Killian shared.

Just as he was on the edge of the property, Neal poured the first potion over himself.

He believed the best course was to climb around the outside of the building, peeking in through each window in order to discover which room the couple resided in.

Taking them by surprise was the only way he would accomplish what he wanted to do.

When Neal discovered the window he needed, he was overcome with rage. Inside, he saw Emma on the bed being taken by the werewolf. Though at that moment he was in his human form.

 She was positioned on her hands and knees. He was behind her, his grip tight on her hips as he pounded into her.

Neal did not believe she could actually be enjoying such force, but her moans showed that she did.

She would be moaning for him soon enough, he vowed. He would make her pay for all of the trouble she had caused him.

In fact, he decided that he would deny her any pleasure until she had properly and thoroughly made all of the suffering he went through up to him. As well as apologize for allowing herself to be touched by such a beast.

Neal fantasized about making Emma use her mouth, and only her mouth on him. He would not even allow her to touch herself until she showed that she was truly sorry for walking for all that she had done.

He shook himself out of his imaginings.  

Now was the best time to attack. While they were distracted. He just needed to break through the glass and douse them with the potions.

He would finally be able to kill Killian and have Emma obedient and all to himself.

But just as he put his hands on the glass, electric currents were sent coursing through Neal’s body. He screamed in agony. It felt as if his entire body was on fire.

The sack with the potions dropped to the ground, shattering the bottles inside. 

When the torment finally ended, Neal discovered he had been thrown to the street.

 Looking at his hands he discovered the tips of his fingers were blackened like ash. His once glossy nails had disintegrated. Checking the rest of himself over, he saw that his clothes were ruined. They were completely covered in burns and holes. Too much of his skin was on display and it looked red and charred.

With so much damage to his body, Neal knew he had to quickly get back to his home to recover. 

If a person of authority saw him, they would ask questions he would be unable to answer.

He knew he was not supposed to be anywhere near Emma or Killian. One more offense to the pair and the council would declare Neal a nuisance. Meaning he would be fair game for other supernatural beings to attack.

And if he were attacked at that moment, he would not have the ability to run away fast enough. 

He was self aware enough to know that he did not have any ability to defend himself.

But it was too late. Killian, in his beast form, emerged from the estate and came straight at Neal.

Powerful jaws ripped the pervert apart. Neal screamed in a mixture of fear and agony as massive claws dug into his flesh, tearing away a large chunk with every swipe. The massive werewolf foot was clawed and impressively strong. The full weight of the beast pressed down on Neal’s groin. Razor sharp claws sunk into the soft flesh. With only the slightest movement, the clawed foot tore away the appendage the creep was so fond of.

“I’m not going to kill you now.” Killian rumbled. “I want you to suffer knowing that while you are writhing in agony as your body is recovering, I will be making Emma’s body writhe in pleasure.”

He kicked the mess of the vampire into a nearby gutter, off of the street and out of the way of vehicles and pedestrians.

Neal was forced to recover among the insects and vermin. With half of his vampire strength gone, it would take him twice as long to heal.

Killian returned to his and Emma’s bedchamber, shirtless, covered in blood and sweat.

Emma’s eyes glowed green with desire as she gazed at her lover. Every inch of him was masculine male. And she loved that she could call him, hers.

Though he had only been gone a few minutes, she had missed him terribly. Everything felt cold and lonely without Killian holding her.

Emma had felt so empty when Killian had withdrawn from her to deal with their nuisance.

When they realized that their security system, one especially designed to guard against supernatural beings, had been triggered, Killian had insisted on going to investigate.

Emma’s pleasure was important to him, but her safety was even more so.

She could tell it was torture for him to leave her side. But he took his responsibilities to her seriously, and his code of honor would never allow him to ignore any threat to her.

He was so good to her. She wanted to do everything in her power to show him how grateful she was for his affection and protection.

She watched him hungrily as he moved to the water basin and removed his pants.

When he reached for a wet cloth, Emma realized he intended to wash before returning to their bed.

With vampire speed, she moved behind him. She trailed one hand down his chest as she slid her tongue over his neck.

“Let me get you clean. I promise to make it enjoyable.”

“I don't doubt that, love.” Killian returned with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “A man would have to be mad to turn down the chance to have you touch him.”

She guided him to the bed and laid him on his back.

A relaxed sigh escaped Killian’s lips as Emma ran her lips and fingers over his skin.

“I love your scent,” she confessed to him. “I especially love how you smell after you've been in a fight. I love licking the blood and sweat from your skin. You taste so good.”

She finished her sentence by licking a long stripe up his length.

“Bloody hell, Swan! You have the best technique for getting a man clean!” He moaned, gripping the sheets so he didn't stop her from doing whatever she wanted to do.

He had a strong feeling that whatever she intended, he would enjoy it.

Hours later, Killian wasn’t close to being clean. But he didn't care. He felt too good to care about anything other than the naked blonde writhing her body against his.

She had begged him to allow her to pleasure him with her mouth. In return, he had begged her to position herself so he could use his mouth on her.

Loving her scent, her taste, the way her silken petals felt as he slid his tongue through them, Killian feasted on her with ravenous hunger.

The more pleasure he gave her, the more she moaned, which in turn created more pleasure for him.

It was an endless cycle of bliss. Both sent the other to paradise, where they took each other to the stars again and again.

But as good as they made each other feel with just their mouths, they both needed to connect in every possible way.

Killian grabbed Emma’s hips, pushing them down with one hand with the other arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her to press her back against his chest. 

With amazing ease, he slid himself into her heat. They both moaned at being connected at the most primal level.

“Bloody hell, love, how do you feel better and better every time I’m inside you.” Killian groaned.

He moved his hands over her body, taking special care to stroke her breasts, then slowly moving lower.

One hand reached her clit. He continuously caressed the red pearl, wanting to give her as much pleasure as possible.

With him touching her just the way she wanted, Emma was barely able to stay in rhythm. Not that it mattered. She gave Killian exactly what he needed when she came around him, crying out his name in her euphoria.

Keeping his fingers on her fold, he tightened his arms around her waist, and pumped savagely into her until they were fully sated.

They collapsed on the bed, kissing and caressing one another, whispering words of love and praise until they drifted to sleep, held tenderly in eachothers arms.

Outside, in the gutter, the only moans coming from Neal were those of severe agony.

[captainswanfluffyfebruary]

Under the Weather

This is just a little post-Neverland one-shot, taking place sometime after they've returned to Storybrooke with Henry. Pan's gone, and there is no second curse. It was probably inspired by cold January weather and my wondering how Hook managed to keep warm and not get sick on a freezing cold old ship. And it was cold January weather this morning that brought it back to mind to re-post this morning. Anyway, pretty sweet and fluffy, I'll admit it, but I still hope you enjoy.

Read on A03 and send some fluffy love to @snowbellswells

[snowbellewells]

Captain Swan Christmas Reruns presents: And a Teaspoonful of Love

Written by: @laschatzi

Recommended by: @snowbellewells

Summary:  The first Christmas Day dinner at Emma’s and Killian’s new house, and Killian and Snow get into a fight over the perfect recipe for Christmas Pudding. Will this end well? 3,3k words of pure family fluff, as the title indicates.

What we love: I love how the author has the whole blended Charming-Swan-Jones-Mills family together to celebrate the holiday, and most especially the festive competition followed by understanding that plays out between Killian and Snow. It is genuinely priceless. This one shot is full of lovely and memorable moments -funny, steamy, sweet, and touching- it has them all in spades. A real Christmas treat!!

READ IT HERE!

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Being Ghosted (2/4?)

Summary: Killian and Liam Jones are called in to help with the haunting of an old carriage house where a skeleton was recently found walled up within the cellar. This is no ordinary ghost hunt for the supernatural fighting brothers, however. This job will require Killian to face the person who has been haunting him for nearly a year. Emma Swan. The woman he ghosted.

A/N: Yeah, yeah. I know the holiday season is in full swing and we ought to be done with the spooky stuff, but I love a Victorian/Dickensian Christmas aesthetic that leaves room for good old ghost stories. This addition gives me a BINGO for my Fall/Spooky card (better late than never) and will likely have two additional parts to come.

Shout out to @kmomof4 for her exceptional beta skills!

Rated T / Also available on ao3 / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me! / Part One

Part Two

Leaves rustled overhead, clinging to branches that were ready to be freed of them as the crisp autumn breeze coaxed them from their perch and gently swirled them to the ground below. Those with the misfortune of landing on the pavement were crunched beneath the tires of Killian Jones’ Chevelle, pulling up in front of an old carriage house that was being renovated into a home.

A home for Emma Swan. A home she recently began to share with her boyfriend. A home where the two resided, sharing all of the intimacies he desperately wished he could have shared with her. Intimacies and quiet moments and heated arguments and passionate make up sessions and mundane chores and yes… even their current plight.

A haunting.

Killian would have willingly faced it all with her had circumstances been different, which, he supposed, was why he was here now.

“You ready for this, little brother?” Liam questioned after Killian had put the car in park and shut off the engine.

“Younger,” Killian reminded him in his usual exasperated tone, pushing open the driver’s side door and climbing out while side-stepping his well-meaning brother’s inquiry.

The front door of the carriage house opened and a man exited, greeting them hesitantly, “You must be the Jones brothers?”

“We are,” Liam said, approaching the man with an outstretched hand. “I’m Liam. This is my brother, Killian. Are you the owner?”

“Uh, no,” the man said, shaking Liam’s hand then stuffing his hands in his pocket with an acknowledging nod towards Killian. “I’m Neal Cassidy. My girlfriend’s the one who called you. She technically owns the place, but we both live here.”

Something in Killian’s gut twisted, the ache intensifying when Emma emerged from the carriage house, looking as stunning as he remembered but without the warmth and affection he’d last received from her.

“You guys must be exhausted,” she said after introducing herself to his brother and barely giving him her notice. “We’ve made up the guest room and there’s a pullout in the office.” Turning to her beau, she placed a loving hand on his arm and sweetly suggested, “Why don’t you show Killian to the office and I’ll take Liam up to the guest room.” Addressing Liam - and only Liam - once more, she said, “After you two get settled, we can take you down to the cellar where this all started.”

“That sounds grand,” Liam said, gesturing towards the carriage house. “Lead the way, lass.”

As they filed in, Liam looked back at Killian over his shoulder. His expression echoed that which Killian was already telling himself.

He had fucked up.

Badly.

“So,” Cassidy began, showing Killian into the office where the pull out couch had already been made up for him. “How do you know Emma? She wasn’t really clear on the details.”

Dropping his duffle on the bed, Killian busied himself with rifling through his supplies, attempting to keep a neutral tone. “What details did she share?”

“Something about a dare and the cemetery and not wanting to talk about the experience because it had been too intense.”

Killian let out a commiserating hum. “Intense is certainly one word for it,” he murmured, the memory of Emma laid out beneath him, kissing the holy hell out him while making sounds that haunted him to this day flashed through his mind and tightened the fit of his jeans.

Unwilling to betray Emma’s confidence, and not exactly eager to share the details of their acquaintance with her current paramour either, Killian shifted the conversation to the matter at hand. “As I understand it, the paranormal activity began after the two of you uncovered skeletal remains in the cellar. Is that correct?”

“Yeah,” Cassidy replied, leaning against the door jamb and crossing his arms over his chest. “I thought Emma was crazy at first when she insisted we had a ghost. I mean… you know how irrational women can be.”

Killian chafed at the man’s derisive tone. “If there’s one thing I know about Emma, mate,” Killian informed him with a slight edge to his words, “it’s that her instincts should never be dismissed.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Cassidy back pedaled. “I believe her now. Kind of hard not to when a ghost appears over your bed while you’re trying to convince your girl she’s not too tired to fulfill her duties. You know what I mean?”

Fists balled, Killian took a deep breath and tried to rein in his anger. He was saved from doing anything rash by the sounds of his brother’s voice.

“Ready to check out the cellar?”

“Aye,” Killian clipped out, following after Liam and resisting the urge to shoulder check the repulsive man who had somehow fallen into Swan’s good graces - and her bed (not that he wished to dwell on that fact) - as he passed.

Emma led them down a steep flight of steps into the cold, dark, and dank space below. The atmosphere had an immediate effect on Killian, raising the hair along the back of his neck and giving him the eerie feeling of being watched.

“This was part of the original structure, yes?” Liam asked, shining his flashlight into the inky black corners the dim bulb at the bottom of the stairs couldn’t quite reach.

“Yeah,” Emma answered, lingering by the stairs with Cassidy as the Jones men looked around. “From what I understand, it was cold storage for oats and hay and other food stuffs for the horses lodged here when it was a carriage house.” Gesturing towards an opening, she continued, “I noticed that space had been bricked up and I wanted to open it back up. That’s when I found…”

“The body,” Killian supplied, casting a glance towards her and meeting her eye for the first time since he’d arrived. His heart clenched, the look on her face making him wish he could have spared her such a discovery. Perhaps if it had been he who had been there… No. There was nothing to be gained in thinking that way now. The past was the past and there was no changing it.

“And you called the police?” Liam confirmed, searching the area where the skeleton had been found.

“Of course we did,” Cassidy scoffed. “What else were we supposed to do?”

Killian and Liam exchanged a look. Neither of them could fault their decision, but they both knew, had it been them, they would have handled it much differently.

“And how soon after the body was removed did the occurrences begin?”

“Almost immediately,” Emma answered. “It started with noises on these steps.” She gestured at the stairs they’d used to access the cellar, the tension in her demeanor evident in the stiff, closed-off way she stood in the unsettling space.

“Noises?” Liam questioned. “Like footsteps?”

“No,” she replied. “More like… something falling down them. Then things actually started crashing down them.”

“What do you mean?” Killian pressed, his concern heightening as she continued.

“If we leave anything sitting in the hallway outside the cellar door, it will eventually make its way down here. Clearly having taken a tumble down the stairs.”

“Yeah,” Cassidy said, backing her up. “I thought it was the authorities being careless, because we had a parade of crime scene personnel traipsing through here for weeks after we reported the body.”

“But you knew it was more than that, didn’t you, Swan?”

Emma locked eyes with Killian. He could tell his question had brought back the memory of her first ghostly encounter. She swallowed hard and for a moment it was as though they were the only two people there.

“Rooms would get cold,” she told him in a quiet voice; her words conveying all the nuance and unspoken truths she knew he would understand in a way her boyfriend had not. “I would hear things. Smell things. Things I hadn’t experienced in all the months I spent renovating the upper levels.”

“What sort of smells?”

His brother broke the reverie that had momentarily linked them, snapping the connection that reminded Killian of what they had once shared.

“Um,” Emma began, shaking herself and focusing on the question. “Leather? Hay? Like a barn, but without the pungent animal smells. More how I’d imagine this place was when it was an active carriage house, I guess.”

“So, he could have been killed here during that time,” Killian said to his brother

“Agreed. We’ll need to learn more about the building’s history.” Addressing Emma once more, Liam inquired, “You told Killian the authorities had yet to identify the remains, is that correct?”

“Yeah. But they did issue a cause of death. Blunt force trauma and a broken neck.”

“Injuries one might sustain from falling or being pushed down a flight of stairs,” Killian remarked. “It would certainly explain the occurrences surrounding the cellar steps.”

“My friend Belle is the town librarian and she has access to city records,” Emma informed them. “When you agreed to come, I asked her to pull anything that might tell us the history of the carriage house. Who owned it. Who may have worked here. Things like that. She said she’d try and have a file ready for when you got here.”

“Good thinking, love,” Killian praised, unaware of the endearment he’d let slip until Cassidy shot him an affronted glare then suspiciously flicked his gaze to Emma’s pinked cheeks before sending another hard look Killian’s way.

Clearing his throat, Killian reached up and scratched behind his ear, turning his attention towards Liam and suggesting, “Before we go any further, we should ascertain what sort of spirit we’re dealing with.”

“What do you mean?” Emma asked.

Killian couldn’t help the smug feeling that went through him at the sight of her pulling away from Cassidy’s attempt to wrap a possessive arm around her waist. She took a step towards the center of the room where Liam was already pulling supplies out of the bag he’d brought with him.

“There are generally two kinds of spirits who refuse to move on,” Liam told her. “Malevolent ones who were equally nasty while alive, and those who simply have unfinished business they feel compelled to resolve before they can find peace.”

“Malevolent spirits refuse to leave,” Killian added. “Hell bent on punishing or exacting revenge against the living. The only way to be rid of them is to--”

“Salt and burn their bones,” Emma said, causing Cassidy to balk behind her.

“How did you know--”

“Aye,” Killian said, cutting Cassidy off. “Which will be somewhat difficult to accomplish, seeing as they are still in the medical examiner’s possession.”

“So…” Emma drawled, joining he and Liam as they continued to set up the space for the task they would need to perform. “Best case scenario would be this spirit just having unfinished business?”

“That won’t necessarily make matters any easier,” Liam informed her. “Figuring out a spirit’s unfinished business isn’t usually as straightforward as salting and burning bones.”

“So, how do we determine which kind of spirit it is?”

“Ems, the thing attacked us while we were making love,” Cassidy said, being sure to emphasize the making love part as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “The thing is obviously bad news.”

“We weren’t--” Emma began, mortification giving way to irritation as she looked back at him then shook her head and said, “Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.” Looking down at the two brothers as they finished lighting the circle of candles they’d set out, she said, “As I told Liam upstairs, when he manifested he didn’t look threatening. He had his hands over his mouth--” she raised hers to mimic what the spectre had looked like, “--but was clearly trying to tell us something when he vanished almost as quickly as he appeared.”

“Well,” Liam said, pulling the last piece of the equipment from his bag, “This will hopefully allow him to tell us what he tried to communicate with you.”

A belittling snort escaped Cassidy. “A ouija board? Be serious.”

“I assure you, mate. We are quite serious,” Killian informed him as he took a seat upon the cold, cellar floor alongside his brother. “But if the idea of communing with the dead is too much for you, then feel free to sit outside while we conduct our investigation.”

Clearly catching the challenge to his courage, Cassidy grit his teeth and grumbled in Emma’s ear. “Can you believe this guy?”

“Neal,” Emma sighed with a tone of censure. “Shut up and sit down.”

Entering into the circle, Emma lowered herself onto the stone floor and crossed her legs beneath her. Reluctantly, Cassidy followed, a disgruntled look passing over his features in response to the sitting arrangement that had placed him between Emma and Liam instead of separating her from Killian.

“A few ground rules before we get started,” Liam began, holding the planchette in his hands.

“I think we’ve all played with ouija boards before,” Cassidy interrupted rudely, earning him a stern stare from the elder Jones.

“Aye,” Liam responded with a cutting edge to his words. “You may well have, but what we are preparing to do is not child’s play. We are opening a portal to the spirit realm, and for all our safety, precautions must be taken and adhered to.”

Cassidy shifted uncomfortably, but said nothing more.

“Go on,” Emma urged. “We’ll do whatever you tell us to.”

“Right,” Liam began again. “Once we’ve placed our hands on the planchette, they must remain there until the session is concluded. I shall be the only one addressing the spirits, so you must refrain from talking or reacting. And when it becomes clear that the spirits are finished communicating, we must all close the session together by moving the planchette to goodbye. This is the only time we intentionally guide it. Understood?”

Everyone nodded. The seriousness of their endeavor hung heavily around them as Liam continued.

“I’m going to set the planchette on the board, but before anyone touches it, we need to attune the space.” Setting the planchette down, Liam extended his hands to Killian and Cassidy, saying, “Everyone needs to join hands and focus on the spirit we wish to call forth.”

Killian took his brother’s hand then opened the other to receive Emma’s. When she tentatively placed her hand in his, Killian glanced up at her face. They locked eyes for a brief moment before she flicked hers away, but Killian knew his touch was having the same effect on her that her touch was having on him. There was no mistaking the familiar physical tension they’d once shared under similar circumstances.

“Focus on the person we seek,” Liam instructed. “We know him to be a man. We know there is something he wishes to communicate. We know this space was his final resting place until a few weeks ago. However you choose to manifest him within your mind, hold that image there and focus on him.”

Difficult as it was, Killian tried to push aside thoughts of Swan and the feel of her hand in his. Even still, she remained a fixture in his attempt to concentrate. She was there when he thought of the man’s body being discovered. She was there when he imagined how he may have looked when he’d manifested himself to her. She was there with every noise, every scent, every strange occurrence that had led her to reaching out to the one person she knew could help her. Despite the tragic circumstances that led the man to being walled up within the cellar, Killian could not help but feel gratitude to the spirit who had brought Emma Swan back into his life.

“Right,” Liam said a moment later. “With the man still centered in everyone’s mind, place your hands on the planchette.”

Killian sucked in a breath at the loss of her hand, but quickly schooled his emotions and joined the others, placing his hands upon the planchette and readying himself for what was to come.

“We call forth the spirit of the man found concealed behind the wall in this cellar,” Liam called out. “We ask that he come forth and tell us his name. What is your name, spirit?”

The temperature dropped and several of the candle’s flames flickered. Killian could hear Emma’s rapid breaths over the pounding of his own heart.

“Spirit!” Liam called out again. “We invite you to tell us your name!”

A gasp fell from Emma’s lips when the planchette jerked beneath their fingers. With wide, green eyes, she cast her gaze towards Killian as the planchette slid across the board. He gave her a look of encouragement, hoping his own gaze conveyed that there was nothing to fear - that he would not let any harm come to her - before her eyes fell back to the board and the word being spelled out beneath their fingers.

“D-A-N-I-E-L,” Liam read out as the planchette roamed across the board. “Daniel? Your name is Daniel?”

Yes

“What is it you want, Daniel?”

H-E-L-P

“You need help? That’s why we’re here. How can we help you to move on?”

H-E-L-P

“We understand. How can we help? What do you need us to do?”

T-E-L-L-H-E-R

“Tell her? Her who? You want us to deliver a message to someone?

Yes

“You need to tell us who. Who is her?”

L-O-V-E

“Someone you loved?”

Yes

“What’s her name?”

R-R-R-R-R-R-R … No

“No? No, what?”

No

“We don’t understand. No, you don’t want to tell us her name?”

C-A-N-T

“You can’t?”

C-A-N-T

“Why can’t you?”

C-C-C-C-C-C

Killian leaned over and whispered into his brother’s ear. “Another spirit maybe? Interference from another entity?”

“Is there another spirit with us? Someone who does not want you to communicate with us?”

Yes

Killian removed his hands from the planchette, earning him a startled gasp from Swan and a scathing reprimand from his brother.

“Killian!” Liam hissed. “What the devil are you--”

“Use my energy, Daniel,” Killian offered, opening his arms, and himself, up in surrender. “Take my energy and manifest yourself. Tell us who’s trying to silence you.”

“Brother, have you lost all sense?”

“It’s alright, Daniel,” Killian encouraged, ignoring his brother. “You can take my energy and--”

Killian’s words fell away when the fine hairs began to lift over his entire body. His arms began to feel heavy and it was a struggle to keep them lifted, especially when his breathing also became laboured.

“Killian, put your damn hands back on the--”

Liam’s admonishment was cut short by a startled, expletive falling from Emma’s lips. Manifesting above the board, in the center of their circle, was the ghostly image of a young man.

“Is that… Daniel?”

“That’s the man we saw!” Emma confirmed, her eyes wide as saucers and brimming with equal amounts of fear and awe. Forgetting herself, and the rules, she tentatively asked, “Are you…? Are you Daniel?”

The spectre nodded. He couldn’t have been more than early to mid twenties when he died, and though it was difficult to ascertain certain physical identifiers like height or hair or eye color, given his current metaphysical state, his clothing could serve as a clue that would narrow down the timeframe of his passing.

“Tell us how we can help you?” Liam said.

Killian, relieved that his brother was willing to capitalize on the moment, knew that he’d get an earful later, especially if Daniel managed to draw energy off him to the point of him passing out. Though woozy, Killian focused his efforts on the questions his brother continued to repeat and the spirit’s attempted replies.

“Who is the woman you want us to contact? Who else is here with us?”

Daniel tried again and again to speak, but the sound of his voice could not pass from his plane to theirs. Reaching down with ghostly hands, Daniel nudged the planchette and guided it once more to the R. Before he could maneuver it to the next letter, a second pair of hands appeared from behind Daniel’s head and wrapped around his lower face, obscuring his mouth.

Emma screamed and Neal jolted back, nearly knocking over the candles behind him.

“Nope!” Cassidy exclaimed, scrambling off the floor and sprinting towards the stairs.

“Neal!” Swan called after him, though she remained rooted where she was with her hands still affixed to the planchette.

Daniel struggled against the phantom hands, clawing at them with his own while Liam tried to wrestle back control of the seance.

“Reveal yourself, spirit! Tell us who you are and why you wish to silence Daniel! What unfinished business does Daniel--”

The planchette began to spin, making it impossible for Liam and Emma’s hands to remain there. An impossible gust of cold wind swept through the cellar, extinguishing the candles and ruffling both Killian’s and Emma’s hair. The light bulb at the bottom of the stairs shattered, sending down a shower of sparks. The only illumination remaining was Daniel’s ghostly form, but it too was quickly snuffed out, leaving the three of them in darkness.

“Bloody hell,” Liam cursed, the sound of him rummaging through his duffle preceding the beam of his flashlight. Reaching over, he grasped Killian’s shoulder and questioned, “Are you alright, little brother?”

“Younger,” Killian muttered, earning him a relieved clap on the back from his brother; his petulant response the only proof Liam needed as to his brother’s condition.

“You two stay still,” Liam instructed. “I’ll relight the candles and clean up the glass. Is there a broom down here?”

“Y-Yeah,” Emma responded, shakily. “In that cabinet.” She gestured towards the corner, then offered, “But I can do that.”

“No,” Liam said, waving her off as he finished lighting the candles. “You stay with Killian. He’s going to need a minute to recover from his tomfoolery.”

“It got us answers, didn’t it?” Killian shot back, heavily. Drained of energy, it was all he could do to remain sitting upright, but he’d be damned if he let Liam know just how much the encounter had affected him.

“Aye. I suppose it did,” Liam conceded, procuring the broom and dustpan so he could begin sweeping up the broken bulb.

“What answers?” Emma asked. “All I have is more questions.”

“We know there’s indeed another spirit here,” Killian told her. “A woman, if the ringed fingers and manicured nails give any indication. We also have a name to work with - Daniel. Based on his manifestation, I’d wager he was in his mid 20s when he died and by the looks of his clothing, I would guess he worked as a stablehand at some point. That gives us a frame of reference to work with as we investigate his identity further.”

“Speaking of which,” Liam said, disposing of the broken glass and tucking the broom back into the cabinet. “You said you had a friend assisting with research?”

“Yes!” Emma replied, plucking her phone from her back pocket. “Belle. I’ll text her now and see if she’s ready to share her findings with us.”

“Perhaps you would like to check on Mr. Cassidy as well?” Liam suggested, reminding them both of the forgotten man.

“Um, right. Yeah.” Swan stood and brushed the dust off the back of her jeans. Her phone vibrated in her hand, capturing her attention. “Belle says she has everything ready and we can come by the library any time.”

“Terrific,” Killian responded, attempting to pick himself up off the floor… and flailing. “Um, Swan? Would you mind, uh…”

Emma glanced down at him and must have perceived his predicament. Her eyes widened, a startled expression crossing her features, as she reached down and helped him up.

With a steadying hand pressed against his chest, she asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “Just a bit… unsteady.”

“Here,” she said, leading him towards the stairs where he could rest against the banister. “Better?”

“Aye. Thank you, love.”

Her posture stiffened in response to the endearment and she turned away, intent on climbing the steps out of the cellar. Killian reached out and lightly grasped her elbow, stalling her steps.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… are you alright? I should have asked how you’re handling the ordeal.”

“I’m fine,” she told him. Her position on the steps had brought her to eye level and though there was still only candlelight illuminating their surroundings, Killian could see the truth of her words in her eyes. “This isn’t my first haunted rodeo. Remember?”

Killian let out an amused huff. “Aye. How could I forget.”

They stood there a moment longer, Killian’s hand still resting against the crook of her elbow. He could feel the raised flesh of her arm through the thin fabric of her sleeve and wondered if it was a remnant of the ghostly encounter or perhaps an involuntary response to his touch.

Was he wrong to hope for the latter?

“I, uh… I should go check on Neal,” she said, dragging her tongue across her lip before her teeth scraped over the tender flesh in its wake.

The sound of something heavy scraping the floor above them pulled Killian from thoughts of capturing her mouth with his own, and almost too late he noticed an object about to hurl itself down the cellar steps.

“Swan! Look out!”

With all the strength he could muster, he managed to force her against the wall, shielding her as something crashed down the stairs. Their bodies pressed together, chests heaving against the other’s, it took them both several moments to process what had just happened.

“Emma!” Neal cried out, sprinting through the floors above and coming to a stop at the top of the cellar stairs. Staring down at his girlfriend who was currently being blanketed by another man, Neal’s face grew thunderous as he exclaimed, “What the hell is going on here?!”

“It appears to be some sort of statue,” Liam commented. Killian wasn’t sure if it was genuine ignorance as to the man’s meaning or if his brother simply wished to avoid a scene. Crouched down, Liam inspected the object and added, “Lucky the two of you managed to get out of the way. This could have done serious harm.”

Swan pushed against Killian’s chest, forcing him to step back from her so she could turn and take the man still fuming at the top of the stairs to task.

“It was that stupid garden statue of Pan you insisted on bringing inside!” she shouted. “I told you not to leave it in the hall!”

“How was I supposed to know a ghost could move it?” Neal shot back. “The thing weighs like fifty pounds!”

Stomping up the stairs, Swan grabbed Neal by the arm and hauled him away from the cellar entrance. Although Killian could not discern what was being said between them, there was no mistaking the tone of argument in their voices. He probably ought to feel guilty for having a hand in their current discord, but all he could focus on at the moment was the way his body was still reacting to having been pressed against Emma’s. The way she’d felt beneath his weight, the intoxicating scent of her hair, the feel of her hands clutching the back of his shirt, the way their eyes had connected after the danger had passed, the moment their gazes flicked down in unison to the other’s lips, the impulse he’d nearly given in to kiss her, the certainty he felt that the same desire had run through her mind as well.

“Brother,” Liam said, his tone making Killian groan internally.

He knew what was coming.

“Don’t,” he replied. “I already know what you’re going to say.”

“Oh?”

“Aye,” Killian sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I was rash and foolish in the way I invited the spirit to use my energy, and I need to get my head on straight. No more distractions.”

“Actually,” Liam said, hoisting his duffle, which he’d repacked, up onto his shoulder before crossing the cellar and joining Killian on the stairs. “I was going to say… A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.”

Slapping his brother on the shoulder he continued up the steps, leaving Killian utterly gobsmacked.

Chapter Three - Coming Soon!

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