#i'd be able to tell what your posts match up to in an instant

[hellsitegenetics]

Just wondering, how the hell do you do this

Do you know all this off the top of your head or???

"do you know all this off the top of your head" can you imagine. i'd be unstoppable

[lu-undy]

Chapter 99 - SBT

Here it is!

"Right, the Maravilhoso…" 

Mundy parked the motorcycle and removed his helmet before getting inside. 

"Oh, hold on…" As he passed in front of the facade, he caught a glimpse of his reflection, the light of the lamp posts helping. He thought of Perle and adjusted his hair and his bowtie. Last time he had done that, it was before entering Lulu's room and he had a ponytail… 

"Right." He pushed the door and entered. "Oh, wow…" 

The atmosphere inside the restaurant was completely different from the dark and relatively silent streets. The lights were golden, yellow and red inside of the Brazilian steakhouse and the music was… exotic. Mundy didn't exactly know what the style was called but it was soothing while people were dancing at one end of the large room. An orchestra was playing live, and it reminded Mundy of the Queen Victoria days, only more colourful and tropical.

"Evenin' Sir, how may I help?" A waiter broke Mundy's train of thought.

"Oh, uh, my partner's booked a table, I think…"

"What name would that be?" They both shifted to the stand with the register. 

"Uh… Beauregard, or Turner." 

The waiter frowned as his eyes scanned the large book. 

"Uh, Beauregard is a French name, spellin's quite odd." Mundy started spelling it out loud and the waiter's eyebrows jumped. 

"Ha! Gotcha! Yes, of course! Alright, follow me."

Mundy did as he was told and was taken to a table and seated. Lucien wasn't there yet, evidently.

"Here is the menu."

"Ah, thanks." Mundy took it and the waiter faded away. 

Lucien wasn't there yet so why not have a look at what kind of food was served in that establishment? Mundy knew the place by name, the name on the outside was flashing in bulbs of yellow in the night, blinking and dancing. There was no way one would go through the street and miss it. Besides, the smell inside was very appetising, grilled meat was largely dominating, but the Aussie could perceive a hint of foreign spices through it all.

"Good evening, handsome..." 

Mundy's eyebrows jumped at the feminine voice. He raised his eyes from the menu and saw a woman pulling the chair opposite him and sitting down as easily as just that. 

"Uh, hey there, I-I'm actually waitin' for someone, sorry." 

"I'll go when they show up, don't worry." The lady put her hand on the menu in Mundy's hands and pushed it down. That's when the Aussie noticed her long, dark blue, velvet gloves that went all the way to her elbows. Her slim arms were white as snow and her dress matched her gloves, or the other way around. "May I?" 

"You're already sitting at my table, eh?" 

"Oh, then I guess it is a yes…?" 

She looked older than Mundy, her hair was long, salt and pepper, like Lucien. She wore beautiful make-up, not too much, but just enough to enhance her features, her eyes in particular. A touch of mascara and eye-liner to give her light blue eyes a feline look. 

"You're here alone?" He asked her. 

"I was waiting for my companion and got bored." She answered. "I saw you alone and thought we might spend a bit of time together, instead of each being in their own solitude…?" 

Mundy's ears twitched at the word: solitude. He frowned for an instant. 

"Hm." 

"So," The woman cocked an eyebrow. "What is your name?" 

"M." 

"Just M?" 

"Yeah." 

"Fair enough." She chuckled. 

"Why're you laughin'?" 

"Quite mysterious you are, M, hm? Even though you don't look like the mysterious type."

There was a subtle accent in the woman's voice, nothing that Mundy had heard before. She was a native alright, but there was a very light twist in her words… 

"Although you do look very handsome, tonight." She poured Mundy and herself a glass of water and drank. 

"You flirtin' with me?" Mundy asked. 

"Why not? You said you were waiting for a friend, not your wife, hm?" She cocked a cheeky eyebrow. 

"Well, uh, I said friend but uh…" 

"Is she more?" 

"I mean…" Mundy scratched his cheek nervously. 

"I don't mind some competition." 

The Aussie started to sweat. 

"Look, uh, y-you're very nice and all, but uh… huh?"

The woman stood off of her chair and got closer to Mundy before half sitting on the table itself, her thigh dangerously close to the Aussie's forearm. Mundy couldn't help but look at it. His eyes went from her high-heeled black boot, wrapping her thin leg tightly to her black stockings under her dress. The only reason he could see all that was because the slit on her dress went all the way up to the top of her thigh… Mundy blushed and looked away, feigning to look for Lucien as he gulped down hard.

"The shy type, are we?" She put her index finger below Mundy's jaw and pulled him to face her. "I like it." She winked and Mundy's heart beat twice as fast as the music playing in the restaurant. 

"W-wow, alright, uh, listen, sheila… I-I'm really not lookin' for-"

"You might not be looking, but I am. And I now have my eyes on a very pretty one…" She bit her lip and Mundy saw a shy flash of her pearly white teeth. Gosh...

"Pff, you should meet my, uh, friend. He's the king of pretty…" Mundy tried to divert the conversation away from him.

"Oh, should I? What is his name?" 

"L." 

"Just L?" 

"Yeah." 

"Such a concidence…My name also starts with an L…" She bent down and got her lips closer to Mundy's ear. "Bonsoir, mon loup."

[Good evening, my wolf.]

Mundy gasped and turned his head to face her again. Their faces were a few inches apart and she smiled as she pushed back a lock of her long hair. 

"W-what?" 

"It's me, mon amour. Have you not recognised me?" Lucien chuckled and broke the voice acting for a second. 

"What?!" He repeated and Lucien sat opposite the Aussie whose jaw had dropped. "Why are you…? I mean why the…?" 

"Surprise…!" Lucien answered with a wink and slid his hand on the table to hold Mundy's. 

"It's really you? How can I be sure?"

"Who else would call you mon loup?" Lucien smiled, resuming the feminine voice. "And I can tell you the exact number of scars on your back, I have kissed them all…" 

Mundy blushed again. 

"Bloody hell, ok…! Woah…" Mundy pulled on his collar to let more air through. "But why are you dressed… like that?" He asked, confused. 

"Someone once said that they wanted to be able to hold me close in public, but couldn't because I was a man. So I reused a spooky skill of mine." He explained nonchalantly. 

"You… You've already done that before?" 

"Occasionally, oui. But I never enjoyed it. Today might be the first time I do." 

"Oh, really?" Mundy asked, still digesting it all. "And the beard's gone? And your voice, your accent…? How the hell can you sound like a sheila?"

"I was that good at my job, and for the beard, it would have looked very odd, non?" Lucien winked. "Besides, seeing that blush on your cheeks when you looked down my thigh was worth every minute of me trying to hide my masculine aspects." Lucien chuckled. 

"I…" 

"You…?" 

"I don't know what to say…!" Mundy was at a loss for words even, he leaned back on his chair and exhaled the breath he had been holding.

"Then hold my hand, and say nothing." Lucien gave him a slow flap of his eyelashes and it was enough to tame the hunter, who obeyed, and slid his fingers between Lucien's gloved ones.

"Gosh…" Mundy blushed.

"Is something the matter?" 

"I… I never thought I'd…" Mundy looked left and right at the other patrons in the restaurant. No one was giving them any odd looks. Why would they? Mundy was but holding a woman's hand.

"Hm?" 

"Never thought I'd hold your hand out in the open… Feels… Feels amazin'..." Mundy raised bright shining eyes to Lucien. "Feels like… We're really together, like…" 

"Weren't we before?" Lucien tilted his head on the side and gave a lopsided smile. 

"Course we were. Just feels… stronger, somehow…" 

They exchanged a dear grin before they dived in the menu and placed their order. 

"So, uh… Why all this?" Mundy asked. 

"Because you have been feeling low as of late, as I thought I might try to do something about it." 

Mundy lowered his head yet ginned shyly. 

"I'm… I'm sorry." 

"What for?" 

"Must've been shit livin' with me for the past few days." Mundy raised ashamed eyes. 

The conversation cut when they both received their meals and thanked the waiter, before he disappeared. 

"Non, Mundy, you are a delight to live with." 

"Even when I wake up every night?"

"Even when you wake up every night." 

"Even when I look like shit and am in a low mood?"

"Even when you look like shit and are in a low mood." Lucien answered with a chuckle. "Are you hungry?" 

"Yeah, quite a bit…" Mundy answered, looking down at his plate. 

"Then, please dig in, and bon appétit." 

"To you too, luv'." 

They started going at their plates. 

"Mmh, that's some good steak right there… How's yours?" 

"Divine, but not as good as the sight you offer me." 

"Oh, hm…" Mundy blushed and smiled. 

"Look at this now…!" Lucien said. 

"What?" Mundy felt put on the spot seeing how intensely Lucien was staring at him. 

"It has been a long time since I last saw one of those." 

"One of those what?" 

"One of those smiles." Lucien answered. "The shy ones, the ones from the beginning." 

"W-well… Feels like the beginnin' again, but different." Mundy answered. 

"How so?" 

"I…" Mundy looked down at his plate, it was hard enough to find the words, let alone say them. "I'm… I'm fallin' in love with you… again… but as a sheila." 

Lucien put one of his gloved hands on his chest and smiled while tilting his head.

"Mundy…" 

"I know. Makes no sense. 'm sorry, should've shut up…" Mundy dived as deep as he could in his steak to avoid Lucien's gaze. 

"Mundy…?"

"Anyway, forget it. How d'you find the uh, the rice and uh, stuff?" 

"Mundy, please, look at me." 

Lucien's feminine voice was something. It made something tremble inside Mundy, who obeyed, albeit timidly. 

"What you said is far from ridiculous. I… I appreciate it, dearly." 

"I mean… I didn't mean like… As in… You just look gorgeous, male or female… I…" Mundy averted his eyes. "It's even harder to look at you now…! Not that it was easy before but I kinda got used to it. Now it feels like I'm startin' all over again." 

"Mundy…?" 

"What?" 

"Finish your plate, I have another surprise for you, before we get some dessert." 

"Okay… Sorry again. That-that was uh, awkward to say…" The Aussie scratched his head nervously. 

"Non, it wasn't. I find you charming." 

Mundy eventually raised his head and was welcomed by Lucien's irresistible smile.

"Thank you, luv'."

They went on invading their plates steadily. 

"Have you ever been to Brazil?" Mundy asked. 

"Non, I have not. I have been in Guinée Équatoriale though."

"Where's that?" 

"At the Northern frontier with Brazil is a territory that belongs to France. I have been there, briefly. It was hardly long enough for me to get well acquainted with the local life there, unfortunately." 

"Oh, ok… Didn't know France had a border with Brazil…"

"And it is its longest with any neighbouring country." Lucien answered. 

"Really?" 

"Oui, France's longest border in the world is shared with Brazil of all places."

"Woah… Quite wild, eh?" 

"Not half as much as you are, mon loup." 

They shared a chuckle. 

"And you, where have you travelled to?" Lucien asked. "I remember you telling me that when you were chasing down poachers, you had been sent in quite a few places outside of Australia." 

"Yeah," Mundy nodded. "Mostly America, though. Not every reserve has the money to spare to pay for flights and hotels for a hunter comin' from the other end of the world."

"Mmh, I see Monsieur's fees were high, hm?" Lucien smirked. 

"Well, I just didn't have the money myself so either they paid for everythin' and I'd come, or they didn't and I stayed here." 

"I see. Whereabouts in America?"

"The US, New Mexico and Texas mainly, the Australia of the US…" 

"I have heard of it the other way around." 

"What d'you mean?" 

"I have heard British people say that Australia is the Texas of the United Kingdom." 

Mundy chuckled. 

"Sounds about right, I guess. We're a wilder bunch than the Brits, but eh…" 

"Not so hard to achieve if you ask me…!" Lucien raised his glass of wine and Mundy imitated him. "To us, mon loup." 

"Yeah, to you and me, Lu'."

Their glasses met in crystal sounding clink and they both took a sip. 

"That was one hell of a good bit of meat…" 

"Admitting defeat already?" Lucien cocked an eyebrow. 

"Defeat? What am I fightin'?" 

"Me." Lucien stood up and held his hand out for Mundy who frowned, confused, but put his hand in the gloved one. The Frenchman pulled him and Mundy stood up. 

"Where're we going…? Oh…" 

Lucien had led the way to the dancing area and looked up at Mundy. 

"Do you know how to dance to this kind of music?" 

"No clue, but I'll dance with you." 

Lucien bit his lip and smiled. Anytime Mundy pushed his own limits in favour of him, the Frenchman could feel his knees weaken. 

"Humour me and try. Bear in mind that as the man, you will have to lead." 

It was a slow bossa nova, something that wasn't usually danced but the people in the restaurant didn't mind much for it. On the dance floor, the lights were lower, a few spots of yellow, orange, red and pink shone on the floor and traced circles and loops as the couple danced around. It was about a dozen couples or so there, among which Mundy and Lucien. 

"Right…" Mundy laced a hand around Lucien's slim waist and held the other one in front of him, like an invitation. Lucien raised his eyes and saw his lover's oh so sweet grin. He placed his gloved hand on his and Mundy started to move. 

He led the dance slow and mellow, small steps that Lucien appreciated dearly. The point wasn't to dance per se, but to hold onto each other for a moment, in the dimness of the dancefloor, blend in, and forget that they were different. To the outside eye, they were an ordinary couple, a he and a she, prim and proper, well dressed and even better loved. 

Mundy looked down and stared with half-lidded eyes at Lucien who was looking up at him. He seemed head over heels for the Aussie, lovestruck by a lightning bolt. The Aussie blushed again and bent his head down until Lucien met his forehead with his own. 

"You look amazin', Lu'..." 

"Mh, so do you, in your suit… I am actually surprised."

"Why?" 

"First, I didn't have to adjust your collar or bowtie, they are perfect. Secondly, you aren't shy at all to dance in the middle of other people." 

"Well, Pearl told me off cause my hair was… well… not that great." 

"Did she?" Lucien chuckled.  

"Yeah… Had to go back and fix it, and I took advantage of my bein' there to fix the rest too." They shared a laugh before Mundy resumed his speech, still gently rocking them left and right. "But then, I thought that she was right. If you wanted me to wear a suit, then you needed me to look good, or as good as I can get. So I tried…" 

"Mmh… You look absolutely divine…" Lucien purred.

"And for the dancin', I uh… I don't know… I just want to hold you and… move with the music, gently." 

"Mmh…" Lucien leaned his head against Mundy's chest, on his vest, and the Aussie blushed to his ears. 

"Y-you alright?" 

"Oui… This is a dream come true for me." Lucien answered, with his eyes closed. 

"What? I-I'm sorry, I've lost you there…"

"Being held in strong arms, by a tall and virile man…" Lucien bit his lip and looked up. He opened his eyes slowly, his eyelashes rose to reveal his crystal clear irises. 

"Woah…" Mundy whispered and his pupils blew wide. "I… Hm…" He put a hand behind Lucien's head and pulled him to lay it back under his jaw. Lucien obeyed and splayed his gloved hands flat on Mundy's chest, left and right. The Aussie's other hand was at the bottom of his back, pulling him closer still. "You smell amazin', you look amazin', pfff… I'm the luckiest bloke on Earth." He kissed Lucien on his head, through his hair, and he heard him pur in delight.

"I feel like a God…"

"A Goddess I guess, eh?" 

Lucien chuckled.

"I guess so, oui. Oh…?" 

Mundy's hand shifted from the bottom of Lucien's back, sliding up along his spine. The Frenchman's knees weakened as the rough hand set shivers everywhere in his body. He bit his lip to smother his whimper as he clawed his gloved fingers on Mundy's smooth vest, and rolled his eyes. Mundy's hands travelled up and up until they were each on Lucien's smooth cheeks.

"You look gorgeous without your beard too." 

Lucien heard the hoarse whisper, the husky voice, but not the words. Whatever Mundy said, it flew above his head, his brains were jelly, his eyes lazy and his eyebrows arched high up. Mundy held his head like a priceless crystal sculpture. As the soft and slow bossa nova wrapped them, he bent down and delicately dropped his lips on Lucien's, which ended the Frenchman. Such courage, such madness from his lover was yet another proof of how strongly and deeply he craved the kiss. 

Mundy, who was usually shy, prude with his feelings, awkward even, was holding Lucien's face between his palms, his thumbs brushing his clean-shaven, smooth face. He pushed a silver lock of hair away from his eyes and went for it. Lucien didn't see it coming. His lips were just met with the Aussie's, as simply as just that, and the Frenchman lost his mind…!

He clung to Mundy, pulling his vest down because his legs had given up. The Aussie quickly caught the hint and laced an arm back at the bottom of Lucien's back, to support him. When he broke the kiss, Lucien's eyes refused to open again for a few seconds. Eventually, the mascara-lined eyelashes fluttered like a butterfly's wings.

"You alright?" It was barely a whisper of Mundy's voice and Lucien's eyes lowered to Mundy's lips again. The spell was cast, Lucien was as liquid as he could be in Mundy's arms. 

The music stopped for a second in the background during which Mundy got very self-conscious. He quickly looked around them but still, no one was staring at them. The band started playing again and it was as slow as a bossa nova.

Mundy's eyes shifted down to Lucien. He was still staring at him as if he was the only person in the room, and for him, he was. Lucien had eyes only for Mundy. He let himself utterly fall and be ridiculous, he let himself show his love for Mundy without restraints, something he usually only does in the sheets. But now, as Mundy looked down, he saw a version of Lucien that he didn't know no one else had ever seen. He was looking at Lucien deeper in love than he ever was, eyes dreamy, crossing on his lips, lips parted, eyebrows arched.

"Gosh… You look…" And Mundy's instincts kicked in again, seeing Lucien so defenseless, so vulnerable, in a crowd of people. He pulled him close and held him safe in his arms. No one would get close to him, no one would touch or even speak to Lucien. It was Mundy's responsibility to protect him and by God be would! 

Lucien rolled his eyes in bliss as he closed them against Mundy's chest. The Aussie was gently rocking him left and right, in rhythm with the slow music. The Frenchman was possessed. A force stronger than him had turned his body, his will and his mind to absolutely nothing. All he felt was the possessive attraction to that tall man in a beige suit, the one with the impeccable hair, the iconic sideburns, the rough skin and large hands that were holding him from his hip and his head. Lucien curled his upper body in Mundy's arms and felt a peck gently land above his head, on his hair. 

Oui, oui, Mundy, please… Please, hold me. I don't want anyone else but you. I can't even see anyone else but you. I feel so incredibly safe with you, it's… an addiction, this sensation. I crave to be held safe and only you manage to do it so well. Only in your arms do I feel that none of my problems are mine. Only when your hands are laced around me do I feel that whatever rises in front of me, you will help me defeat it. You are my strength as much as you are my weakness. Je t'aime. 

Lucien screwed his eyes shut and frowned against Mundy's chest. 

"Love you too, sweetheart." 

[walviemort]

hidden blessing (1/?)

Summary: Killian thought the only thing he was left with after Milah's death was a broken heart and a thirst for vengeance. It's not until he gets to Storybrooke, after so many years spent in stasis, that he discovers something else: he's carrying her child. How does this new, tiny blessing change his path? (Canon-divergent from 2x12.) 

rated T | AO3 | 2.7k

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @sherlockianwhovian​!!!! Here it is: that random idea I sent to you a few months ago and we had a crazy conversation about. I’ve been picking at it here and there ever since and today seemed like a good day to start posting. I hope you have a beautiful day, darling, even with all the craziness in the world! (General note: this will mostly follow canon, but may jump around a bit. And will be updated whenever I get to it, lol.)

With the heaviest of hearts, Killian watched as the body of his darling lover—and part of his soul—dropped to the depths of the sea. A significant part of him wanted to join her, but he knew that’d be a disservice to her memory. 

So instead, he led his crew to Neverland to bide their time until he could find a way to destroy his crocodile. Aside from a handful of ventures into the Enchanted Forest and other realms, they spent close to a century in the ageless realm. 

When they finally left Neverland for good, it was only a couple of weeks until he was again put in stasis by the Dark Curse. Once time unfroze, he got anxious as the months ticked by and they couldn’t leave, but Cora assured him—“Time still hasn’t started to move here, not really; we’re just not frozen in place. You’ll still have your pretty face once the curse breaks.”

And when it did, everything seemed to run faster. Was it really only a matter of days from the time the curse broke, to meeting Swan, to their adventure (and her subsequent betrayal) on the beanstalk, to fighting at Lake Nostos, to landing in Storybrooke? No wonder he was nauseous once they’d docked in the sleepy town. 

He figured a night of rest would send that away, but it lingered in the following days, even while enacting Cora’s plan and finally, finally starting to seek his revenge. Though the rounds of abuse suffered at the hands of the Dark One and his librarian lover certainly didn’t help. 

He got the last laugh, though, with his pistol. Watching the Crocodile’s panic at the realization his love didn’t know him filled him with glee—even if he was in pain a minute later after being thrown by the heavy metal coach. 

So it wasn’t much surprise when, hours later as he woke in the infirmary, everything hurt, including his stomach. 

“Good morning, Hook,” a man said a bit later. “I’m the doctor looking after you; name’s Whale. You took quite a hit there.”

The blonde man looked as haggard as he felt; Killian recognized a hangover when he saw one. But he only eyed the man warily and let him continue. 

“Nothing too serious happened, and you’re lucky. Ribs heal, but we’ll have to be careful not to do anything to hurt the baby.”

Killian blinked. Baby? What? He wasn’t expecting. “Beg your pardon, mate?” he asked, voice a bit rough with disuse. “What baby?”

Whale seemed surprised. “Your baby; the one you’re pregnant with right now. You didn’t know?”

Cold fear washed over Killian; he couldn’t be, could he? “Is this some kind of joke?” he bit out angrily. 

“It’s not; we checked your blood before giving you any pain medication. You know you’re capable of carrying children, right?”

“Aye,” he confirmed; all men in his family had a womb, so he knew it was possible. “But I haven’t lain with anyone in at least a century.” Not since his last night with Milah—though, as he recalled vividly, the situation was right for him to conceive. 

The doctor thought about it for a moment, then asked, “If it’s been that long, then how are you still here as a healthy young man?”

“I’ve been in Neverland; time doesn’t move there,” he explained. “As well as a handful of other situations that left me in stasis.”

“Well, that’s it, then,” the doctor said. “If your body wasn’t aging, neither was the fetus. But now that you’re here, that kid is finally getting the chance to grow.” 

The man continued to drone on about the biology behind everything, but the only thing Killian could focus on anymore was the fact that he was pregnant—with Milah’s child. A child she’d never know. Yet another thing the Crocodile had taken from them. 

Anger threatened to wash over him again, but then a quick wave of nausea brought him back down and found him instead staring at his midsection. He tried to place his hand on it, but found it was cuffed to the side of the bed. So instead, he put his bare stump over it, a rush of paternal feelings rising within. 

He wasn’t sure how his blood had confirmed it, but once he’d heard the words, something just clicked and he knew it to be true. He was going to be a father. And suddenly, he didn’t want anything else.

“Hook, did you hear any of that?”

Killian blinked and looked back up at the doctor. “Afraid not.”

Whale sighed. “Okay, I’ll say the important parts again: we want to do an exam to make sure everything is okay with your baby, given the number of hits you’ve taken over the last few days. Does that sound alright?”

“I suppose so, yes.” If anything, he was curious about this realm’s medicine and how it worked. But if it enabled him to ensure the well being of his child, then he’d do it without hesitation; he’d likely done enough to risk their health. 

“Alright; I’m headed into surgery, but someone from the OB-GYN will be around later. Rest up until then.”

He didn’t know what those letters meant, but nodded his assent and the doctor left. Which meant he was alone—but not really, apparently. 

He glanced back down at his still-flat stomach. At first, he was filled with shame at not knowing that new life was growing within him; goodness, the things he’d done in the past decades. Hell, the past month. He’d have to curb that immediately, assuming he hadn’t done any damage already.

Gods, he couldn’t live with himself if he had. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. Though he was sure the babe couldn’t hear him, it helped to say it out loud. “If I had known, I would have been so much more careful. But from now on, I promise to do whatever I can to keep you safe. Always.”

His mind grew fuzzy not long after and he drifted off; it was no surprise that he dreamed of holding a small child in his arms. They had bright blue eyes and curly hair that seemed to change color on a whim, from black to red to blonde. They were darling and precious and he couldn’t wait to meet them.

Until something pulled him from his dreams, and he was suddenly aware of another presence in the room. He blinked, winced at the various maladies all over his body, and was finally able to focus; Emma was sitting on the edge of his bed.

Emma; he’d forgotten about her for a bit there. (Understandably.) She looked pissed, which didn’t surprise him, but just as fierce as ever. Something stirred somewhere else—thankfully not his stomach, for once—and the attraction to her that he didn’t fully understand came back. He was torn between wanting to bed her and fight her. (Maybe both?)

She set the tone immediately, though. “Where's Cora?” she asked sternly.

He tried to sit up, preferring to have a confrontation at the same eye level, but first the cuff stopped him, and then his sore ribs did. “Damn, that hurts,” he hissed.

Emma stood and hovered over him. “Told you. You cracked a few ribs. Where's Cora?”

She was all business, but she was no match for his well-honed deflection skills—or flirtatious front. “You look good, I must say, all "Where's Cora?" in a commanding voice. Chills,” he added salaciously. It was fun to get a rise from her.

She just raised her eyebrow, unamused. “You have all sorts of sore places I can make you hurt.” without warning, she lunged forward, aiming for his ribs; instinctively, he brought up his left arm to protect both them and his baby. She didn’t connect, but clearly wasn’t afraid of using physical torture methods; in that instant, he knew—he wasn’t about to tell her, or anyone else, about the baby just yet; not if they could use it against him.

She pulled back and he relaxed, but the ache was renewed. Sighing, he told her, “I've no idea where Cora is. She has her own agenda.” And it was true; he hadn’t seen the witch since she placed the cloaking spell on his ship. “Let's talk about something I am interested in: my hook.” He felt slightly naked without his prosthesis. “May I have it back? Or is there another...attachment you'd prefer,” he tossed back, eyes glancing down his body. If he couldn’t physically defend himself, he could at least annoy her until she left. (Though he wouldn’t complain if she took him up on the offer.)

Emma rolled her eyes, of course. “You're awfully chipper for a guy who just failed to kill his enemy, then got hit by a car.”

“Well, my ribs may be broken, but everything else is still intact, which is more than can be said for all the other bad days I've had,” he said, gesturing with his stump. “Plus I did some quality damage to my foe.” 

“You hurt Belle.”

“I hurt his heart. Belle is just where he keeps it. He killed my love. I know the feeling.” Even further reason to keep his child far away from anyone who could hurt them.

Emma gave him a wry, insincere grin, and bent over him to come closer. “Keep smiling, buddy. He's on his feet, immortal, has magic, and you hurt his girl. If I had to pick dead guy of the year, I'd pick you.” And without another word, she turned and left.

He sighed and gently placed his stump back over his stomach; he hadn’t wanted to do that in front of Emma, lest it give her any ideas—male pregnancy was rare, but not unheard of, and he didn’t know how much she knew of the magical realms yet. But the encounter proved one thing: the number of people he could trust in this town was small, possibly nonexistent. 

And only reinforced that his child wouldn’t truly be safe until Rumplestiltskin was out of the picture completely.

Gods, he’d only known about the babe for a matter of hours and already had recentered his life around him or her. It wasn’t the first time he’d done that, of course, but still—it took him by surprise.

He dozed off again for an unknown period of time until a soft knocking woke him. “Oh, sorry; didn’t know you were asleep,” a timid-looking man said. He had white hair and glasses and was of short stature, looking altogether unthreatening—but the machinery he pushed on a small cart was completely foreign to Killian. “I’m Doc, the obstetrician.”

“The what?” was all Killian could say.

“I’m here to check on the baby.”

“Oh!” Killian exclaimed, and tried again to sit up, only to fail again.

“Here; let me.” The doctor rushed to the side of Killian’s bed and pressed something, making the top half of the bed lift as if by magic. 

“How did you do that?” Killian asked, trying to peer over the rail without causing further injury.

“It’s all mechanical; I can show you later. But first: can you tell me when you think you conceived?”

“Um, about 130 years ago, if my arithmetic is correct.”

The doctor dropped his pen as soon as he’d picked it up. “Beg your pardon?”

Killian explained again his history with Neverland, and Doc was well aware of the magical happenings since then, having been equally cursed. Killian also told him what he knew about his ability to carry children, though it wasn’t much, seeing as his father refused to and his brother never got the chance. “All I know is the woman has to be on top,” he summarized.

“Got it,” Doc answered, though clearly embarrassed a bit. “Well, given that this is as new to me as it is to you, I’m going to have to do some poking around in some...personal places. Is that alright?”

“Don’t have much choice, do I?”

“No, sorry; but I’ll be gentle.”

The doctor was true to his word, carefully examining Killian’s stomach and private areas and proclaiming that everything appeared to look good.

But then he picked up a wand-like device that appeared to be attached to the machine he’d brought with him, and started fiddling with the contraption. “What’s that?” Killian had to ask.

The doctor was blushing; this couldn’t be good. “Well, uh,” he stammered, clearly not sure how to explain it; Killian subconsciously wrapped his arm around his stomach a bit tighter. “It’s a machine that lets us see inside the womb; there are a couple different kinds here, but this one is a little more...invasive.”

The fact that such a device existed was incredible to Killian, but he quickly put two and two together. “Does that...thing...go inside me?”

“I’m afraid it does.”

“Bloody hell. Is it necessary?”

“Given what you’ve gone through, and that we’re not really sure how far along you are, it is.”

Killian sighed dramatically, but he could tell it was important. “Go ahead.”

While he knew worse lay ahead, he sincerely hoped to not have to go through anything so awkward as that examination. “Just look at the screen,” Doc said, trying to keep him calm; but the space on the machine only showed nondescript black and gray blurs at first. The feeling of the device within him was not pleasant, either, but finally, Doc proclaimed “Ah! There it is! Hear that?”

The oddest noise filled the room from the machine; Killian had no description for it. “What is that?”

“That’s your baby’s heartbeat, and look—there it is on the screen.”

It didn’t look like much, but Killian had to admit—there was something vaguely humanoid about the blob-like images on the screen.

“That’s the head, and the spine, and there’s the legs.”

Killian had to tilt his head to make sense of it, but it started to take shape. “Does it not have arms?”

Doc chuckled. “It does; we just can’t see them right now. Based on that image, I’d put you at about 11 weeks along.”

“You can tell from that? And what does that even mean?” He’d never heard of measuring pregnancy like that; he knew it took a certain number of months, but most people just estimated. The fact that they could narrow it down so much was astonishing—and made him realize how little he knew about what was to come.

Thankfully, Doc explained everything as he removed the device and cleaned up, and they were able to estimate a due date; he also recommended coming in regularly for appointments to track the progress of the child’s growth, which Killian wasn’t sure would be necessary, but he agreed in order to placate the doctor. 

The machine made some more weird noises and spat something out, which Doc took and handed to Killian. “Here; you can keep that.” It was the picture from the screen; goodness, this realm was proving to be a technological marvel. He wanted to take it but, again—handcuffs. “Oh, I’ll put it on the table then,” Doc said, and started to, but Killian couldn’t risk anyone seeing it.

“No, don’t—if you know where my coat ended up, can you put it in there? I...I don’t want anyone knowing just yet.”

“I understand,” Doc answered with a small smile. “It’s in the closet over here.”

As he put it away, Killian added, “I can trust your discretion, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you.”

Doc finished gathering his things and headed towards the door. “Oh, and Captain—one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“Congratulations.”

Killian tried, but couldn’t hide his smile. “Thank you.”

He was going to be a father—a father to a child that was, by some miracle, the product of he and the woman he’d loved above all else. He didn’t consider himself a lucky man, but thanked the gods that they’d seen fit to bless him just this once. 

And he fell asleep once more, knowing that—for the first time in so many years—he had something worth living for other than his revenge.

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