#you get anxious every time Neal disappears from your side

[aragarna]

White Collar rewatch (142/?) 6x04 All's Fair

[apiratewhopines]

This one is a gift for @teamhook because she is one of the most generous people I’ve ever met.

Thanks to @jrob64 for giving me advice on artwork and to ultraluckycatnd for reading over this chapter

Midnight

Chapter 1 — The Prince

Summary: In which our heroine meets cute

Chapter 1 of 7 on AO3

“But don’t forget folks,

That’s what you get folks

For makin’ whoopee”

-Makin’ Whoopee, Eddie Cantor

Emma Swan had been in some tight spots, but she’d never been in a run out of gas on a deserted highway with a dying cell phone battery and a stomach as empty as her bank account kind of situation before. In truth, she blamed this unfortunate situation on the same person she blamed all the misfortunes of her adulthood. Neal Cassidy.

There was a time a few short months ago she would have done anything for the man responsible for her current circumstances. Neal had been too good to be true. A real Prince Charming, down to the supposed trust fund and a smile that made her believe in happy endings.

She’d been a sucker. She heard one was born every minute, she just never thought her time would come. After all, one of the few things she learned in the foster system was how to spot bullshit from a mile away. But he looked at her with his soulful eyes and whispered promises in his smoky voice and she fell for it. More than once, actually, and all she had to show for the wasted years was a voicemail box full of collection calls and a wolf at the door.

Because Neal Cassidy didn’t just leave her. He stole her identity, maxed out her credit cards, and took out half a dozen loans in her name. Then he proceeded to use the money to wine and dine a wide assortment of women, the sheer number of which would make Casanova blush. All the while professing his undying love and spending his days eating all her food and watching television from his favorite seat on the couch.

Seriously, you could still see the faint outline of his backside on the cushion.

As countless victims of his schemes started showing up at her door looking for the man who made them feel alive while killing them one dollar at a time, she listened to tears and rants and misery with ill-disguised impatience. How had she become the counselor to the trail of broken girls he left in his wake? When was it going to be her turn to moan and groan and swear she’d never love again?

Well, she did get around to the swearing to never love again part. Some mistakes don’t bear repeating.

The final straw happened two months ago. Neal had disappeared after their final fight. His righteous indignation at being called on his crap and inability to find a plausible excuse for the stack of overdue bills and statements she found stuffed in the back of his gym bag made it difficult to share the same space. She wanted him gone even as her hands itched to touch him one more time.

Unfortunately, leaving her drowning in debt with the knowledge he cheated on her for the majority of their relationship wasn’t enough for him. He decided to do some collateral damage on his way out of town.

He did the unforgivable. He went after Granny.

His target was meant to wound her. While he lied and schemed the entire time they were together, she had been an open book for the first time in her life so he knew Granny was the sole connection she formed as a foster. Her brief stay with the woman before she aged out of the system was a time of peace and healing. Granny was responsible for helping her get on her feet and the two maintained a friendship years later.

Emma received the frantic call from Ruby explaining her grandmother had been tricked into giving Neal a blank check so he could do her grocery run. Hours later, she received a notification from her bank saying her checking account had been wiped out. At that point, the tenuous control Emma had on her emotions disappeared. She sat on the kitchen floor of the apartment she was about to lose, staring at empty walls that still echoed with his laughter in her weaker moments, and she broke into a million pieces.

So it was no wonder she vowed to have her vengeance. To do anything and everything to make him pay. Luckily, since he skipped out on a court date, catching him would also get her paid.

Tracking him had taken more time than she liked to admit. She was good; even penniless and running out of options, she recognized her worth and knew she possessed hard to find skill sets. But she had a sinking sensation that he might be better.

Now she was stranded on the side of the road with nothing except her most uncomfortable shoes to keep her company. But damn did they make her legs look good and with everything else in her life collapsing around her, somehow that seemed important.

Squaring her shoulders, she climbed out of the car and pondered her next course of action. She was unfamiliar with the state road connecting the two small towns on the Maine coast, so she had no idea what the odds were that a good samaritan would happen along. She had just enough juice in her battery and lettuce in her account to call for an Uber to take her to the seedy nightclub where Neal was last seen. Or she could walk the rest of the way in her mile-high heels knowing she never looked better, even though she would probably not be able to move the next day without a significant amount of pain.

What she would do if she found him or where she would stay if she didn’t weren’t questions she was ready to entertain.

Sighing, she pulled out her phone and with a huff of frustration opened her app. Pleading with whatever powers that be to let her last long enough to see herself through to the other side of this, she leaned against her beaten down yellow Bug and waited for the black sedan to show.

Of course, her phone died immediately after she booked her ride, finally giving up the ghost even though she didn’t get a chance to see the name or license plate of her hired car. Getting more anxious by the minute, she paced along the shoulder, careful to keep on the pavement since the ground was soft from recent rain. After what seemed like forever, but had probably not been more than half an hour, the headlights of a lone car crested a nearby hill.

“About time,” she muttered. To make sure the driver knew she was not pleased with the delay or the prodding pace he maintained despite the fact the sky seemed ready to open at any moment, she moved out into the middle of the lane and placed her hand on her hips. Pride kept her from squinting even though the bright high beams made her eyes water as the car approached.

Slowing from a crawl to a stop, the driver put the car in park and jumped out. It was dark and the man was dressed all in black, but as he moved around to the front of the car, she got the impression of blue eyes and a stubble-covered jaw that could probably cut glass. Great, just what she needed. A sexy Uber driver.

“Alright there, love?”

With a British accent. He probably smelled like bacon, too.

“What took you so long? I’ve been waiting all night.”

Moving closer, he smiled with a hint of confusion. “Had I known you were waiting for me, I would have been along sooner. Tell me, do you always accost strange men in the dead of night on empty roads?”

“Only when I’m paying them to take me where I need to go,” she grumbled, walking toward the back door on the passenger side. She pulled it open as he protested, and glared at him over the top of the car.

“Love, I think there may be a bit of a mix-up—“

“It’s fine. I won’t give you a bad rating for being late as long as you don’t talk to me. I’ve been driving for hours to get here and I need to think.”

She heard him sigh and saw the flash of his teeth as he smiled at her again. “Very well. Would you like me to get your bags?”

“You’d have to go to a pawn shop in Boston to accomplish that,” she joked, dropping into the leather seat and noticing for the first time the expensive luxury of her rented carriage. She supposed if she was going to spend her last dime on a ride, she could have done far worse.

She resisted the urge to use the low ambient lighting of the dashboard to get a better look at her temporary chauffeur. The glimpse she got outside was more than enough to know she needed to keep her distance. It didn’t stop her from feeling the weight of his stare as he peeked over his shoulder while clicking on his seatbelt. Out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw his tongue flicker slowly over his bottom lip before he turned his attention back to the road.

“Nice dress. Where are we heading this fine night, Miss…?”

“You’re really terrible at this. Is it your first time being a driver for hire?”

“What gave it away, love? It’s quite an unexpected development that came about just this evening. But you know what they say, you never forget your first.”

It was everything she could do not to laugh. She had a feeling it would only encourage him and if she was heading into battle, she needed her wits about her. “The Snakehole Lounge.”

“At the risk of sounding cliche, why would a nice girl like you want to go to a place like that?”

“I’m not a nice girl,” Emma informed him without a hint of irony or bravado. “And your rating is going down with each syllable out of your mouth.”

“Tough lass,” he murmured. “But do yourself a favor. Stay away from the Snake Juice.”

Little did he know that even if she wanted to have a drink, and boy did she ever, she used the last of her meager funds to get to this backwater place and she wasn’t sure where her next meal would come from. “I’ll do my best.”

The rest of the ride passed in silence. She spent the time looking out the window at the trees flying by and trying to ignore how every time she looked away, her eyes caught his in the rearview mirror.

Honestly, it was probably a good thing they were the only people for miles around or he would have gotten them both killed.

Less than fifteen minutes later, he pulled to the curb in front of a shabby nightclub. Even the multitude of neon lights flashing “Girls! Girls! Girls!” and “Half-Price Beer Buckets” did little to enliven the dingy exterior. They didn’t bother with a bouncer, probably because no one actually wanted to get in.

Before she could say anything, her driver was out of the car and rounding his way to her door. She didn’t have a chance to object as he opened it and looked at her with avid curiosity. She had to admit she was impressed he didn’t give into it and ask any questions.

“Since we’re out of the car, am I allowed to speak again?”

Perhaps she had been too hasty in her internal praise. “Thanks for the ride. I hope your next passengers are more chatty since that’s what you’re into...overall, a solid three stars.”

“Three stars? I’d be surprised, but I had a feeling you were warming up to me between the baleful stares and eye-rolling.”

Gifting him with another of the said eye rolls, she adjusted the hem of her skirt to show a little more leg and walked away. She knew if she stayed a second longer she would give in to the almost magnetic pull of him and say something foolish like, ‘What’s your name?’

—

The inside of the establishment was every bit as horrible as the outside. The low lighting obscured the grime and wear that would be glaringly obvious otherwise. She wasn’t surprised. It seemed like the kind of place Neal would gravitate to since he was a dirty little rat.

Music heavy with bass pumped out a rhythm entirely too fast for the energy of the place. The few patrons who persevered this far into the night looked anemic as tired dancers did their best to act like they wanted to be there. Pulling her ID from the scrap of a bra she wore under her dress, she flashed it at the lone employee who manned the entrance and the bar. He gave it a cursory glance and turned back to his phone.

Snapping her fingers under his nose to get his attention, she pulled out a grainy photo of her quarry from the same location and asked, “Have you seen this man recently?”

“I’ve never seen anyone. Ever.” The man grumbled, not interested in the slightest. She wondered if he would stop her if she walked behind the counter and helped herself to a drink. She was leaning toward no and tempted to try.

“Tell you what buddy, take a good look at this picture. Then look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t seen him and we’ll end the night without any trouble.”

Something in her tone must have penetrated his disillusionment and he gazed at her with more interest than he’d probably shown anything in years. She waited as he glanced at the photo for a few seconds. “No, sorry. If he’s been here, it wasn’t during any of my shifts. Is he your husband or something?”

“He’s something alright,” she muttered. Defeated, she turned around without another word. She used the last of her resources to fund a wild goose chase, but at least it got her into town. Only thing left to do was find a park or quiet bench somewhere safe to sleep for a few hours and then she would tackle whatever came next. It wouldn’t be the first time she roughed it, although she had never attempted it in formal wear before.

Pushing the door open with unnecessary force, she immediately froze. Her three star driver was waiting at the curb as if it wasn’t the middle of the night and she hadn’t given him the brush off.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

“Yes, especially since I’m pretty sure our business is done,” she replied, walking past him and wishing the man could be a tiny bit less handsome. Now that the streetlights of the small town were there to illuminate their interactions, she couldn’t deny he was ridiculously attractive and exactly her type, complete with a black leather jacket and messy hair begging to be pulled. And, heaven help her, he was determined to extend their acquaintance apparently.

“It’s just good sense, love. I figured you’d be in need of transportation again, so why waste the gas to leave when I’d have to turn around after you called for your next ride.” He matched his stride to hers as she did her best to increase her pace.

Sighing, she stopped at the corner and looked at him. “Listen, I could tell you my phone is dead and I need to make a few more stops, that I’d pay you when you drop me off at my place at the end of the night, but it would be a lie. I’m chasing down a bounty. I need the money to pay for a ride and I need a ride to make the money. A smart man like you can see the problem. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

She turned away again but felt him leap into action behind her. He moved to cut off her escape and said, “Double or nothing.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Double or nothing, sweetheart. I take you to wherever you need to go tonight and when you collect your fee, you pay me double whatever the normal fare is for jaunts like these.”

“What if I don’t find him?”

“That’s where the nothing comes in, lass. A smart woman like you can see the benefit of such an arrangement.”

She studied him, hoping to find some ulterior motive in his seemingly selfless offer, but all she saw in his expression was an earnestness bordering on being painful and a thirst for adventure barely contained. Perhaps this was how he got his kicks in an isolated town. He propositioned strangers and gambled on fate. “No strings? No funny business?”

“This whole business is funny, but I’ll behave myself if you will. We’ll have much less satisfaction that way, but I’ll do my best to rally my spirits and overcome my disappointment.”

With a rueful shake of her head, she stuck out her hand and introduced herself. “I guess we’re doing this. I’m Emma Swan.”

“Killian Jones, driver extraordinaire and captain of this fine vessel, at your service. Where’s our next stop?”

“I need to go to every seedy bar and filthy dive in the area so you tell me, Captain.”

—

She wasn’t sure what it said about her newfound companion that he was able to rattle off several places in a matter of seconds, but as the night stretched on and the miles racked up, she found she rather liked her tour guide. Which was probably a good thing since at this rate, she would be splitting the bounty fifty-fifty with him. Who knew the twin cities of Storybrooke and Misthaven had so many sleazy places to hang out?

“I’m afraid we’ve reached the end of the line, Swan. Are you sure he’s in the area, because every traveler worth his salt makes a point to stop by Moe’s Tavern while visiting our fair city.”

“I can see why. The thrift-store ambience is delightful and the watered down drinks are to die for,” she murmured as she rested against the side of his car. She was tired and weak from hunger and as much as she wanted to curl up in the back seat and sleep, she was scared she’d get used to the comfort he was offering and do something she might regret later.

She was trying to figure out how to cut and run without seeming ungrateful when her stomach growled loudly.

In a playful tone belaying the concern in his eyes, he asked, “Was that your stomach? Bloody hell, am I in danger? Are you going to try to eat me to satisfy the beast within?”

Feeling a blush color her face, she avoided his gaze as she said, “Sorry, I...um, I skipped dinner.” And breakfast and lunch for that matter.

Taking up a position next to her, he nudged her with his shoulder. “Tell the truth, when was the last time you ate something, lass?”

“Hmm, what day is it again?”

“As I suspected. Come on, I know just the spot.” Pushing off from the car, he gently moved her and opened the door to the backseat.

She wanted to fight, to tell him she could take care of herself. She would have too, if she had any energy at all. Meeting his eyes for the first time, she joked, “You lost a gamble, Captain. That doesn’t mean you have to feed it.”

“I consider it an act of self-preservation. I figured you for a man-eater the first moment I laid eyes on you, but I’m afraid you might prove me right in unexpected ways if we don’t get some food in you soon.”

“As long as eyes are all you plan on laying on me, I accept your gracious offer,” she replied with a narrowed stare. Before Neal, she trusted her instincts. She would have insisted they were infallible, but he had shaken her confidence. She couldn’t risk being wrong about Killian Jones of the electric eyes and perpetual helpfulness.

“No strings. No funny business, Swan. Those are the rules. Get in, your chariot and dinner awaits.”

He stood a few feet from her, urging her into the car and she wasn’t sure what drove her to say it, but before she could change her mind, the words were out. “I’d rather ride in the front this time if that’s okay with you.”

His smile could have melted metal, tempted angels to fall, and inspired devils to repent. It was probably lack of rest and food causing her stomach to do flip flops. Or at least that was what she was going to tell herself.

“Your heart’s desire, Swan. I promise that’s all I want you to have…” He closed the back door with a firm finality that echoed through the night and somehow felt momentous in the thick air of summer. When he opened the passenger door, the light seemed warmer and it bathed him in softness and shadows. He waited patiently as if he knew something had shifted between them and he didn’t want any sudden movements to break the odd spell.

Then her stomach growled again, angry at the promise of food being delayed while she gawked at the man who was determined to rescue her in every imaginable way.

“And dinner, of course.”

“Of course,” she whispered, taking care not to make contact with his body as she slid into the seat. She was glad the door was already closed when she left out a huff of air. Good thing she had sworn off love or she may be in some danger.

@teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @stahlop @motherkatereloyshipper @xarandomdreamx @xsajx @klynn-stormz

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Mystery Of Pixie Hollow by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 2/11

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche @jonesfandomfanatic

Chapter 2: Shared Experience

“Mom.”

Emma ran through the halls, slamming her fists against the glass, breaking each mirror in front of her as she searched frantically.

“Mom.”

Her heart was pounding, each space behind the mirror was a deep black void.

“Mom.”

Arms were grabbing her, pulling her into the void, dragging her deep into the blackness.

“Emma.” She jerked awake, her eyes squinting against the light shining through the window. “Bloody hell, what are you doing sitting in front of an open window? Where’s Henry?”

Emma jumped up from her chair. “Henry.” She said frantically, staring out the window toward Pixie Hollow. Her mouth went dry at the empty lot staring back at her. It was all gone. Everything. He was gone.

“I got your texts this morning, my damn phone must have died while I was working, but they didn’t make any sense.”

“Henry, we were at the park, I couldn’t find him.”

“What do you mean, you couldn’t find him? Where’s he at?”

She sunk down on the floor below the window, sobbing. “Gone.” She cried, wrapping her arms around her knees, and rocking softly back and forth as her head made contact with the wall behind her.

“Gone where? Emma you aren’t making a lot of sense here.”

“We were in one of those fun houses, you know the kind with the mirrors. Henry loves those.” She started rambling. “He was playing, he always thinks its funny when I can’t find him. But then he was gone. I couldn’t find him anywhere. I heard him call for me, but he vanished, Will.”

“Vanished. Well surely they had a lost and found, or…”

“No, they didn’t care, they acted like he fucking ran away.” She shouted. “The police told me to come back in 24 hours, but they’re gone, the whole thing is fucking gone.” She screamed, pointing toward the parking lot where the fair used to be.

“Get up, we’re going to talk to the cops. This is bloody ridiculous. Henry isn’t a runaway. No one could believe that for a second. This doesn’t make any sense.”

Will was pacing the floor in front of her before he turned and grabbed her by the hand, pulling her to her feet. “Come on, let’s go find our boy.” He said softly, guiding her to the car as he drove them to the police station.

When they arrived at the busy precinct, the man at the front desk barely acknowledged them, waving them off to wait in the seats by the door. After twenty minutes, Will was tired of waiting, pushing past the front desk and demanding to talk to anyone who would listen to him.

“I want to talk to whoever is in charge, my boy is missing and I’m not going to stop until someone bloody listens to me.”

“Please have a seat.”

“How about you have a seat, Mate.” He said, squaring up to the officer who approached him. Emma stood from her chair, rushing to his side to stop him from doing something stupid.

“Will…”

“Ma’am, I’m going to need you both to step back behind the desk.” The man warned.

“Look mister, my little boy is missing.” She held up the photo of Henry to his face, “He’s all alone, and if you don’t find someone who gives a damn about that, I’m going to stand outside this station, talking to every news outlet that will hear me, until someone pays attention to me.”

“Emma Swan.”

She spun around to see the officer she had spoken to last night and she tugged on Will’s arm to follow her in the direction of the man. “Henry’s still missing. You told me to wait 24 hours, and I know it hasn’t been that long, but the carnival is gone. And he didn’t run away.”

“Someone better tell me they are looking for Henry, or I’m marching out of here to meet with Channel 3 and tell them the Storybrooke police department doesn’t care about the safety of our young citizens.” Will barked and the officer gestured the two of them toward a corner office.

“Wait in here, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“If one more person tells me I need to wait…” Will threatened.

“Sir, I promise you, I will be right there. I just want to get my partner.” Officer Nolan stated calmly.

“Fine.” Will relented, stepping into the office as Emma followed him.

Will sat at the steel table while Emma paced the back wall. “I can’t believe this is happening.” She said anxiously. “He’s never been away from me for this long. He must be terrified.”

“I had a bad feeling about this.” Will mumbled. “I told you not to go without me last night.”

“Don’t you blame me for this. You’re the one who bailed on Henry’s birthday last night.” She yelled angrily.

“Emma, I had to work.”

“You abandoned us. And now Henry is gone.” She screamed, and Will shrank against the table, hanging his head into the palms of his hands. She knew she had gone too far. This wasn’t Will’s fault, but she had to blame someone, Henry was gone. But she knew blaming Will was wrong. This was her fault. “Will, I’m…”

The two men walked into the room, interrupting their discussion. “Miss Swan?” Officer Locksley asked as he entered.

“Yes, that’s me.” She replied anxiously.

“Have you heard from Henry since last night.”

“Would I be here if I knew where my son was?” She quipped sarcastically.

“Ma’am, we’re just trying to help.”

“Sod that, if you were trying to help you would have done so last night.” Will stated emphatically. “From where I’m sitting, it appears you’ve done bloody nothing at all.”

“You must be the boy’s father.”

“Not in the biblical sense, but yes.”

“I’m sorry?” Officer Nolan asked in a confused tone.

“The boy isn’t biologically mine, but in the ways that matter, he’s my kid.” Will said almost proudly and Emma felt a pang of guilt for attacking him earlier.

“Have you been in touch with the boy’s actual father? Perhaps he’s with him.”

Will laughed ominously. “You think he ran off with Neal? Bloody idiot of the year! Not fucking likely.”

“Sir, I can sense some tension regarding the boys father. Do you talk that way in front of the boy about his father?”

Will stood angrily. “Are you serious right now?”

“Perhaps the boy took offense, we’ve seen it happen, home life isn’t always the greatest, kids venture out to find out about the other parent that their live-in parent admonishes.”

“This is ridiculous.” Emma suddenly spoke, she was tired of hearing this crap. They apparently had no interest in helping them find Henry. They were wasting valuable time.

“Does he have contact with his father?”

“I can assure you; it would be a cold day in hell for Henry to be anywhere near Neal Cassidy. He wants nothing to do with Henry.”

“Do you know where we can find him? Perhaps you’d let us do our job and confirm he doesn’t have the boy.”

“I haven’t a clue where he’s at. Why don’t you take care of that, you’re the police. In fact, if you find him, let him know he owes me about five years of back child support.”

Emma grabbed Will by the arm and yanked him out of the station, she wasn’t going to waste a single second more on people that were doing nothing more than judging her. She needed to find Henry.

~*~

“Who’s that?” Henry asked his new friend, Alice. The short haired woman who brought them lunch always seemed nice, if not a bit anxious. Something seemed off about her, but he wasn’t sure what it was.

“That’s Tinkerbell.” Alice said and Henry burst into laughter.

“Like the fairy from Neverland?”

“Yes. She helps Pan. She’s the one who brought you here. But I’m sure you don’t remember any of that. They always make sure the kids don’t remember.”

“You’re serious about all of this. Tinkerbell, Peter Pan. I must be dreaming.”

“I wish you were. I wish we all were.” She said sadly.

“How long have you been here?”

“I lost count years ago.”

“Years?” He said wide eyed. “You’ve been here years?”

“Has to be four or five years now. But I’m not really sure. It’s hard to keep track of the days when you don’t see the light all the time.”

Henry couldn’t imagine not seeing his mom in the next day, much less years. Suddenly he felt the tears start to fall as he thought about the possibility of never seeing her again.

“Please don’t cry, Henry.” She wrapped her arm around his back, pulling him into her side.

“I miss my mom.” He cried softly.

“I know. I miss my papa, but I know one day I’ll see him again, just like I know one day you’ll see your mom again.”

“You really think so?” He sniffled, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

“All I have is hope, you can’t let go of that Henry. The moment you give up hope, Pan wins.”

He sighed, resigning himself to that fact that he was stuck here. But, he knew his mom would find him, he remembered the story his mother told him of when he was two years old and wandered off in the department store, his mother searched everywhere until she found him, crying in the middle of a clothes rack. If anyone could find him, it was his mom. She would never give up looking for him.

~*~

Emma sat in a darkened room, the only light coming from the screen of her laptop. She had spent the last few weeks researching the Pixie Hollow Amusement Park and the information she had found was creating even more of a mystery than she could have imagined. Since the inception of Pixie Hollow seven years ago, more than thirty children had gone missing during their stay in the towns they visited.

Based on the news articles, the children were usually from families of single parents, or children on field trips to the park. Most were chalked up to runaways, and the ones that were investigated were still open cases. A few showed that the parent was under investigation for the disappearance, but so far no one had been arrested in connection to any of the missing children.

Emma had collected names of various families she had found and was spending countless hours trying to track down the parents of the missing children. First she began calling the ones she was lucky enough to get information on, but she was always met by an angry voice on the other end of the line that told her to stay out of it and hung up on her.

Emma knew she needed to face these people, plead with them to talk to her about anything they knew. Maybe if they shared their stories, details would start to add up, it might give them a chance to solve the mystery if only she could get someone to listen to her.

The next morning, she woke up with a new determination, today she was going to get something, anything that she could to find her son. He had been missing for three weeks now, and Emma was going crazy.

The only thing the police had come up with was that they had located Neal Cassidy in Tallahassee Florida, but he had no interest in discussing Henry, nor did he seem to have any information on his whereabouts.

No shit Sherlock, she had basically relayed to the officers before hanging up on them.

She looked down at the paper in front of her. Three names were written from the night before. The family members who’s addresses she was able to find through a Google search. Parents with shared experience.

Ashley Boyd – Portland, Maine

Leroy Little – Portsmouth, New Hampshire

Killian Jones – Boston, Massachusetts

“Emma, you can’t just drive all over the coast grilling grieving parents about their missing kids.”

“Tell me something better I should be doing, William!” She yelled into the phone as she slammed the door of her yellow bug shut.

“All of this started because you went off on your own, nothing good will come of this.”

“Don’t you dare blame me for this.”

He sighed, “I’m not blaming you, Emma. I just…” He paused. “There’s nothing I’m going to say that’s going to stop you, is there?”

“No, I don’t need your advice Will, I just need you to support me until I find him.”

“Emma…I will always support you, no matter what you do. Just…” He sighed again and Emma could just see him now, running a hand through his hair. “Be careful and keep me updated today. Dammit, I wish you would have waited for me to come with you.”

“I’ll be fine, I’ll text you all day. I should be home tomorrow unless I find something.”

“Please be safe, we don’t know what’s going on here. Just…just be careful with how you approach these people.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She hung up the phone and looked at her GPS, her first stop was nearby in the town of Portland. She set the GPS and began her drive to Ashley Boyd.

It was a long drive from her home, a few towns over and she reached the small white home of Ashley Boyd. She had read about her daughter Ella, disappearing from Pixie Hollow two years ago, the police determined that Ashley’s ex husband had taken the child and left the country. The man vehemently denied any involvement in the disappearance but refused to return to the United States for fear of being arrested.

Emma climbed the short stairs to the front door and knocked on the white wooden frame. She waited until she heard yelling on the other side of the door and a small child peered through a crack.

“Hewwo, who are you?”

Emma bent down to introduce herself when a woman appeared, yanking her child up from the ground and shielding her protectively.

“Chelsey, I told you never to talk to strangers.” She looked at Emma, “Who are you, what do you want?”

“Hi Ashley, my name’s Emma Swan.”

“How do you know my name?” She asked nervously.

“I wanted to talk to you about Ella.”

“Who sent you?” She responded anxiously. “Get out of here.”

“Wait, look my son, Henry…” She held up a photo of her son. “He went missing from Pixie Hollow a month ago.”

The girl’s face crumpled before she quickly returned the mask to her face. “I’m sorry for your loss, the sooner you get over it the better. He’s never coming back.”

The woman turned and slammed the door in her face. Emma sighed, writing her number on a piece of paper, and sticking it into the door before she returned to her car.

Emma looked at her GPS on her phone. It would take her an hour to get to Portsmouth. Her next stop on her trip. Her contact was the father, Leroy. His son Stewie had gone missing four years prior during a trip to the carnival. He had been under investigation for years until he was cleared six months ago.

The entire drive she thought about Ashely’s reaction to her. Seeing her with a young child, she could tell that the woman was overprotective, nervous around strangers, distrustful almost. She had given up hope of finding her daughter. Emma never wanted to get to the point that she gave up trying to find Henry. She couldn’t imagine the dark hole that would swallow her up if she allowed herself to get to that place.

She looked up at the tiny shack on the edge of the water that belonged to Leroy Little. It was run down, almost unsafe to live in. Definitely not the place you would ever have a child.

She walked across the uneven planks that lead to the front door, the porch creaked when she stepped foot on it. She heard a noise on the other side of the door.

“Don’t know who you are, lady, but I’ve got a shot gun pointed at you, so get out o’ here before I shoot.”

Emma froze, “My name is Emma Swan, I just want to talk to you about Pixie Hollow.” She put her hands in the air.

The door creaked to a crack. “You a cop?”

“No, I’m just a mom. My son went missing too.” She said pleading with him. “I just want to talk to you.”

He opened the door, the rifle in his hands. “Ain’t nothin to talk about, sister. The kid’s gone. You can stop looking, the more you look, the harder it’s gonna be for you in a few years.”

“You can’t really believe that.”

“Ain’t got no other choice, less I want to go back to jail.”

“Where do you think Stewie is?”

He looked to the ground, then back at her face. “Don’t matter what I think. Now get outta here, I got nothing to say to you.”

He slammed the door in her face, the second time in a few hours. Emma left her number, feeling disheartened and sat in her car and cried.

She was half tempted to just go home, but she needed to finish what she started out to do today. It would take her about an hour and a half to get to Boston, perhaps this Killian Jones would talk to her.

It was harder for her to get information on his case, his daughter was one of the ones who had been missing the longest. Alice Jones had disappeared five years ago. The information she had found only said that he was a single dad, he had taken his daughter to the carnival because of her love for fairytales. She had gone missing that night and Killian was the first person of interest on the case. He spent months in prison while they investigated the girl’s disappearance, only releasing him when they found no evidence that he had anything to do with his daughters’ case. The trail went cold after that. There had been no news at all about his daughter since.

When she got to the address, she looked up at the harbor, she must have typed the wrong information. There were no houses at this location, she was at a boat yard. She got out of her car and wandered to the pier, trying to figure out why her GPS took her here.

A man was standing at the end of the pier, tying a rope to a boat that was docked there. “Excuse me.” She flagged the man down and sped up her steps to get closer to him before he disappeared into the boat. “Sir, I just need to ask you a question.”

The man noticed her, and he tensed, standing still at the end of the pier. “How can I help you, lass?”

“I’m looking for an address, but I think I wrote it down wrong because there’s no house here.”

He laughed, “You are very perceptive, love.”

She handed the paper to him, and he scratched the back of his ear. “’Fraid you aren’t looking for a house, Ma’am. But you did find what you’re looking for.” He paused and stared her down, “Care to share why you were looking for this boat?”

“A boat? I don’t understand. I’m trying to find the man at this address, Killian Jones.”

His jaw tensed. “Is that so? And what business do you have with Mr. Jones.”

“I need to talk to him about his daughter, Alice.” Before she could react the man turned feral, reaching into his back pocket and with a flick of his wrist, brandishing a knife in one hand as he took a step forward and pressed it into her side, twisting her around until her back was to his chest.

“Who sent you? Was it Mills? Just who the bloody hell are you?”

[piracytheorist]

A Kiss for Good Luck (13/16)

Summary: So this is the story of one born lucky, and one born unlucky. Fate will keep making them cross paths, but is it to bring them together, or to test them? Captain Swan AU.

A/N: With this chapter, two more and the epilogue left, I decided to post them day by day! You can expect the next and final updates on Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday :D

Rating: T (make sure you’re okay with the warnings on AO3)

Word count for this chapter: 3.6k (51k in total) AO3

Read from the beginning: Tumblr | AO3

~

Chapter 13: Emma Swan, May 25th – June 22nd 2016

Emma smiles wide as she watches Killian go to the end of the now huge line to the airport checkpoint. He went back just to give her a kiss, and a part of her is delighted to realize she adores this hopelessly romantic side of him.

He doesn't turn to look at her, but the place is too crowded anyway, and she decides to go back, grab a coffee and wait to watch his plane leave. Instead, Killian's flight is delayed for a few hours. She texts him about it, whether he wants to cross back and join her, but he simply tells her to not worry and go back home.

It sours her mood a little; it may be a bit late in the day, but there's no reason for him to spend all this time alone, and if she judges by the plain tone of his message he doesn't even want to chat until he leaves.

Odd. First he gives up being first in a long line just to kiss her, then he doesn't even want to talk to her.

Perhaps he just wants to rest or sleep until his flight leaves. Emma tries to ignore the insistent little voice in her head that has never truly disappeared since Neal left her.

She turns the radio on while in her car and catches a blues station. The slow music and the complete lack of traffic back to her place calm her thoughts.

She stays up, checking on Killian's flight until it departs, hoping it doesn't mean a thing that Killian himself didn't tell her that his plane was finally leaving.

The next day is easy, checking off a few good cases, and in the evening she meets Ruby for a few drinks.

“So,” Ruby says with a meaningful look, “how was your week?”

Emma sighs happily, and it's with Ruby's smile turning warmer that she remembers she actually had a fantastic time. She's worrying too much.

“It was great. It felt... right, you know? I was a bit scared, but the moment we met at the airport made everything else not matter. He was here, and we could really enjoy our time together...”

Ruby's nodding enthusiastically. “And? How was it?”

“It was... warm and fuzzy...” Emma gives a good look at Ruby, suddenly realizing what she's asking about. “I told you we weren't ready for that.”

“Even after the whole week?”

“I mean, I spent most of my nights looking at my bedroom door and wondering whether I should go and ask him... but it wasn't just me.”

“I admire your patience. And his. And how about him? What do you think it was like for him?”

“I'm not sure, honestly.” Her face falls.

“What happened?”

“Up until the last day, I could swear it was as good for him as it was for me. I mean, he came, right? He chose to. And he looked happy to be here, with me. But a few hours before he had to leave, he seemed restless and anxious.”

“Because he was leaving?”

“I don't know. I...” She sighs. “He hasn't contacted me to let me know he's arrived safely. But I checked Messenger a few hours ago and it said he's been active today.”

“Did you send him a text about it? It would be weird for him to just forget but sometimes it just happens.”

“Should I send one, you think?”

“Yeah. Maybe he was really busy today. What did you say his job is?”

“His father has a boat rental, and sometimes he takes passengers on cruises.”

“Well, tourist season is kinda starting. Send him a message. But, you know, try to not sound desperate.”

“Ugh. I feel as if I'm in a teenage rom-com.”

She sends her message. Early the next morning, she sees his reply; a plain “Aye, I was busy, sorry for not letting you know,” and compared to his message from before his flight right above that, she can't help wondering.

She didn't have a cell phone as a teenager, and she hadn't allowed herself anything longer than one-night stands after Neal, so it's the first time in her life she has to look at her phone and keep telling herself to not call first.

She takes walks by the sea, seeing the yachts and boats and thinking of Killian. He mentioned how it had been his choice to work on his father's boats, how he loved that job where there's always a view of the sea.

Having practically grown up in Boston, Emma knows well the feelings that endless blue can bring. For Killian, they must be even stronger. The feeling of freedom and calmness and strength at the same time...

She knows he's facing his own issues, he's been open to her about them. His lonely adolescence, his grief, his drinking problem.

She decides to take a walk there every day, to remind herself to give Killian the same space that the sea gives him. Maybe he's out there at the same time, looking at the sea the same way she does.

He manages to call her within a week, though due to his bad connection, they don't share video this time. Or the next. Or the next.

“Remember how I told you I felt I was in a rom-com?” she tells Ruby when they meet one day for coffee. “I hope that at least I'm the protagonist and not the third wheel.”

“What's going on?”

“I worry too much about his calls. We used to talk every day, from five minutes to whole hours on end. And now he's just too busy, or his connection is bad, or his camera isn't working and I'm not seeing his face. But he keeps calling me back, not as often, and not as much, and he doesn't even say as much as he used to, but he's initiating calls on his part. Sometimes he doesn't reply when I call him...” She covers her face with her hands.

Ruby is patiently waiting for more, and Emma isn't sure which more to choose. Killian had trusted her with his history about getting involved with a married woman and she's not ready to betray that just to provide a possible proof that he may be cheating on her.

“We decided to take things slow,” Emma said. “We weren't shy on kisses while he was here, but it didn't go further than that. Do you think he may not consider it cheating, if...”

“If he didn't consider it cheating – if he even is cheating on you – he wouldn't be hiding like that. And taking things slow is different than having an open relationship.”

“I don't know.”

“Emma, if he didn't see it so seriously, would he have come all this way just to spend a week with you? While respecting your wish to not get intimate?”

“He said that's what he wanted as well.”

“So what, is his masculinity so fragile that instead of respecting your wishes, he would fake not being ready for sex? Is he that kind of person?”

Emma is silent.

“You do realize it would take a deep kind of crazy to only want to get laid, then come all this way and agree to not get laid.”

Fair point. “I just wish I knew what it was that tipped him that way. It's... you know, on his last day here, we were talking about our first kisses, and we realized we actually were each other's first kiss.”

“What? You're serious?”

“I know, of all people, right? And I have an inkling he might have been freaked out by that.”

“How did it happen?”

“It was a game of spin the bottle. It was as innocent as it could get at eleven.”

“Did you ask him about it?”

“Yeah. When he was still here, though. I mean, at first he laughed, just as I did, then his face fell, and I asked him if he felt weird about it, and he said no, just that he didn't want to leave. Ugh.” She hangs her head. “That's not a rom-com. That's a soap opera.”

“Maybe he's going through something? Problems with work, family?”

“He hasn't mentioned anything. He said he hasn't talked to his fathers in a while. But, he's shared more serious stuff with me. If something was upsetting him so much... I can't imagine how serious something must be for him to not want to share it with me. And I don't know how much time to give him. Will I sound desperate? Like a stalker? If I take too long, will I seem insensitive?”

“I'm sorry, honey.”

“He's calling me, Ruby. He's not trying to cut off, and he's not trying to appease me either. I'm sure he knows I can hear that he's hiding something. What am I meant to make out from that?”

“Maybe confront him with the fact that you know something is up. Just put it on the table. Say that he doesn't have to explain it to you if it doesn't involve or concern you, just to stop pretending there's no elephant in the room.”

“Sounds simple enough, I guess.” She sighs. “Perhaps it was too early? We've only known each other for seven months.”

“Too early for what? You're not engaged or something. You can work things out.”

Emma nods. “Thank you. Sorry for unloading all that on you.”

“That's what friends are for.” She takes her hands in hers. “I've got lots to talk about, if you want a distraction.”

Emma has had a wonky fortune in her life; she's glad she happened to meet Ruby during one of the good times.

The next day, while she's still growing the courage to confront Killian about acknowledging at least that there's something going on, Ingrid calls her. She's joined by Elsa, who excitedly tells Emma she wants to join Ingrid in her next trip to Boston that summer – they will, of course, stay in a hotel close by so she won't be a bother.

“Maybe we'll go somewhere nice all three of us,” Emma says. “I actually bought a lottery ticket and I have a good feeling about it.”

“Oh, if you have a good feeling about it,” Ingrid says, then turns to Elsa. “You cannot imagine how lucky she was as a teenager.” She then bursts into chatter in Norwegian, and even if Emma could understand more than a few words here and there, she would still be lost in thought.

She was indeed quite lucky as a teen. In fact, the luckiest day of her life, as she'd described it to Killian, had been just the beginning of five great years.

Until her first trip to England, where she met the pirate boy.

Wait...

“Emma?”

She starts, looking back at her camera.

“Sorry, dear, I got carried away,” Ingrid says.

“We will try to use more English when we're there,” Elsa says with an apologetic smile.

“No, it's alright. Ingrid, can you remind me when you actually got your first visa? I mean, in the recent years.”

“Uh, a few days before I contacted you. The first time.”

“Do you remember how many days?”

Ingrid huffs in thought, but turns to her with a smile. “Such sudden curiosity. I'm not sure exactly, three? Four? Less than a week, for sure.”

Too close to the day she kissed that stranger at the club... the only one she didn't see around when the police was asking for witnesses, if they saw who shot that man at the hand and killed his lover.

“Emma?”

Emma takes a deep breath and does her hardest to fake a smile. “Nothing. It's... something about work.”

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Nothing to worry about. When do you think about visiting?”

After a short chat, Ingrid gets the message and leaves Emma with her thoughts. Emma's hands are shaking; the lottery results will be out in two days and they can't come fast enough.

She runs out, resorting to buying a scratch ticket from a nearby kiosk. She scratches it and stares at it, nearly frozen.

Five dollars.

Emma looks around, looks at the sky, then at her phone. Her weather app clearly shows rain, but there's not a single cloud in the sky.

She is lucky. Things have been going quite well for her. Suddenly so, in fact. Just a month or so ago, she would be getting splashed by cars and losing spare change and...

And then Killian visited her.

She walks slowly back to her apartment, and somehow it doesn't come as a surprise that thunder rumbles outside right as she closes her door.

She sits on her couch, watching the rain pour outside her window.

She had a serving of quite a bad luck the first eleven years of her life. Then she met Killian at that birthday party, they shared an innocent kiss, and that very same evening Ingrid told her she would be adopting her.

Shortly after that Killian's mother died, his father left them, and his brother passed too a few years later.

She stands up, pacing around her living room.

He lived in London at the time. At the exact time she visited for Halloween, that fateful year, that she was left alone and Killian... was adopted? He had mentioned being almost too old to be adopted.

He said it hadn't been him at that party, but he didn't sound convincing, and at the time Emma brushed it off, but... if it really had been him...

Then the night of the shooting at the club. She doesn't remember that stranger's face, but their kiss was too close to him getting shot and Ingrid's visa getting accepted.

A shiver runs down her spine as she remembers the screams of that night. The screams of a man who got shot in the hand... a hand that Killian doesn't have.

Emma's nearly gasping for breath, her hands shaking again as she forces herself to sit back down at the couch.

After that, it was some good years for her, and Killian was lost in his grief, alcohol, and a bad relationship later on.

Then they met at the concert, where right after their kiss, she dropped her phone, cracking its screen.

She looks at it now. The crack is still there, but something tells her getting a new phone screen – or a whole new phone – won't be a problem a few days from now.

She feels a weight set on her shoulders as she goes back to Killian trying to convince her it wasn't him at the Halloween party.

He knows. Somehow, he does, though she doubts he found out much earlier than the moment they realized they were each other's first kiss.

And second.

The weight becomes a sudden void; the pirate boy's look nearly haunted her for years; fifteen years later, she felt a similar sensation at the way Killian looked at her in the concert.

It was the same look, by the same person.

She shakes her head. It's silly. Can it truly be, that they brought good and bad luck to each other, just by kissing?

Then she remembers how he left, when there was no-one in front of him at the queue, to get back to her and give her a last kiss, and didn't come back to join her when his flight was being delayed, because he knew there would be kissing involved if he did.

Tears fill her eyes. He left his luck with her.

And things have been going well for her. How has he been... when both times he got unlucky, people he loved died?

She keeps looking at her phone, wondering if she should call Killian about it, ask him if everything's okay.

Instead, she picks it up and starts looking for the cheapest flight to England she can afford, as soon as possible.

She can't tell Killian; he'll try to stop her, pretend that he's not in Brighton, that he'll be busy...

She finds the envelope with which he'd sent her her Christmas present; she'd kept it in case she'd want to surprise him with a gift back. The return address doesn't include the apartment number, but surprising him in the building entrance will have to do.

She books a flight for three days from now, and of course is not surprised to earn two thousand dollars at the lottery, nor to be promoted to a business class seat thanks to travel miles.

She's grown used to really enjoying flights, but this time she's too nervous to sit back and relax.

He figured out everything before she did. All he had to do was time their kisses right, then leave with his luck on his side. Forever.

But he didn't. He wouldn't. Emma may not know him that long, but she doesn't think he's capable of that. And that's why she's in this plane now.

There's a small part of her that wonders what she's going to do when she comes back. Will Killian actually let her leave without his luck? Will he follow her back? Will they just spend all their money in the effort to be the most selfless one?

She sighs in frustration. That's not something she took into consideration when she agreed to start such a long-distance relationship.

As her luck would have it, everything goes better than smoothly, and courtesy of having slept on her comfortable seat, she doesn't even feel tired from the trip.

It's just starting to get dark when she arrives in Brighton, and she contemplates going straight for her hotel and 'confronting' Killian the next day. But her note with Killian's address on it is right inside her jacket pocket when she gets in the cab, and she can't help herself. The moment she approaches his apartment block, someone happens to exit and smiles to her as he holds the door open for her.

Of course he would. She settles herself and her holdall on the stairs, sends one 'Hey, call me when you see this' to Killian, and waits.

After a couple of hours she starts wondering whether she really is all that lucky, or if it was all in her imagination. The stairs aren't too comfortable and she's slowly getting bored. There's only so much Candy Crush she can handle.

Her eyes look up every single time she sees someone even approach the entrance from outside, and again, everyone who enters or exits simply smiles at her and goes on their way.

She's about ready to give up and head for her hotel when he finally appears. He's looking down, his visibly longer hair falling in front of his face as he takes a bit too long to open the door. She contemplates going to open it herself, but he makes it and starts for the stairs, stopping at the first step and looking up slowly.

His slow reflexes, his slightly staggering step, his tired, sad face...

He was out drinking.

Coming like this was a horrible idea.

“Killian...” she says, making sure her voice sounds worried and not judgmental.

He just stares at her, looking confused and very tired.

“I know this looks weird,” she says. “I've had some time to think and... I'm not stalking you.”

“Wha-” he starts. “How...”

“I'm sorry.” She toys with her hands nervously. “I should have let you know earlier. It was...” Not just impulsive. “Very impulsive. But I would've come soon anyway.”

“How did you know where...” His voice trails off, but she gets the point.

“The gift you sent me for Christmas. The package had your address on it.”

He blinks slowly, and she's not sure he's registering everything she's saying. “Come upstairs,” he says eventually, starting to walk up the steps.

“Wait, really?” She stands up and grabs her bag. “I've booked a hotel-”

“You can take the bed,” he interrupts her. “It's got clean sheets.”

“Killian-”

He gives her a stern look that shuts her up. He's clearly not in the mood for more than just getting to a bed. “Just come.”

She smells the alcohol off of him when he steps closer to her and she wonders whether she should comment on it. Maybe she can ask, somehow, there must have been something that pushed him over.

His apartment looks tidy and smells clean. He sets himself down on the couch, taking off his brace and shoes.

“Is something wrong?” Emma says. “You're...” She pauses. How can she say it?

“Relapsing,” he says plainly. “Why is everyone avoiding that word?”

“Are you okay?”

He shrugs. “Not much to say. I'm tired.”

So hopefully, nothing horrible happened to him or his family.

“I'm sorry,” Emma says again. “I should have let you know I'm coming. I... I'd thought I could surprise you...” What else can she say to excuse such a sudden visit?

Killian lets out a cold, soulless laugh. “Lucky me,” he says, then lies down, eyes closing and breath quickly getting deeper.

His words pull at her heart, confirming that he knows of their mingled fates. She approaches him, kneeling down next to him and touching his hair. It's only been a month and she's already missed feeling how soft his hair is. How she'd love to keep brushing her fingers through it, and not just tonight.

A soft snore comes from him, and she leans forward to leave a kiss on his forehead.

[kiki-ciara-blog]

CS Storybook - 5x23 The Way Back Home

This is my little contribution to the Once Upon a Captain Swan Storybook Vol2. A canon divergent story starting in New York after Regina has split from the Evil Queen.

Rating: M

AO3

Word Count: 6000ish words

Read this story and many many others in the Once Upon a Captain Swan Storybook, Vol 2 which can be found here.  

I also created an illustration to go with the story.

“Well, much as I’d like to keep indulging in this touching family adventure, I’d actually like to get back to my daughter. Snow, I’m surprised that you aren’t equally keen to get back to your son. You haven’t forgotten the infants that we left in Granny’s arms just before we were pulled into a portal yesterday have you?” Zelena snarked from her spot on the couch in Neal’s apartment.

At the mention of baby Neal, Mary Margaret’s face crumpled with sorrow.

“Of course we haven’t forgotten him,” David replied, a comforting hand on his wife’s shoulder. “You’re right Zelena, we should get going, but as we didn’t all arrive by conventional methods, we should maybe work out how we are all getting back to Storybrooke. Any suggestions?”

“We have Gold’s Mercedes, that can take five of us,” Regina said, “and then there’s that yellow monstrosity you insist on driving, Emma. We can all fit into those two. But I have already been in that death trap once this week so I will be taking the Benz.”

Emma glanced up at Killian and squeezed his hand before speaking. “Actually, I was thinking that Hook and I could take a little road trip on the way home. It’s been an eventful 48 hours, and I would really like us to have some time together before the next disaster strikes.”

She looked over at David and continued, “Dad if you want to drive the bug back, we can either get a hire car, or take a bus. We’ll figure it out.”

Testing a theory Regina conjured a small flame in the palm of her hand. “Of course there’s always this,” she said.

“Hang on a minute. Our magic works out here?” Zelena asked standing up, “In that case, I’m out of here. Do you two want a ride?”

No sooner had Mary Margaret and David looked at each other and nodded, Zelena grabbed David by the arm and the three of them disappeared in a cloud of green smoke.

“Well, I guess that’s settled then,” Killian said wryly.

Having finally waved Regina, Dr Jekyll, Henry and Violet off on their journey home, and stopped by a store for essentials, Emma and Killian checked into a nearby hotel.

Emma kicked off her boots and sank down onto the queen size bed with a sigh. Looking over at Killian as he shucked his leather jacket and unbuttoned his vest, she patted the mattress and encouraged him to join her.

“Come sit with me,” she said, “we should talk.”

“Are you okay love?”

“Yes. No. Probably.“

Killian sat beside her, and took her hand in his. He gazed adoringly into her eyes, concern etched all over his face.

"Whatever it is love, you can tell me”.

Emma returned his gaze, and caressed his cheek with her free hand.

“Killian, only yesterday morning I was trying to come to terms with my grief. To deal with the fact that I’d found my true love and already lost you before I’d had a chance to tell you properly how I felt. How I feel. The emptiness that filled my heart, I didn’t think it would ever fade.

“But then, you came back. And don’t get me wrong, I'm…well…happy doesn’t even come close to explaining how I feel.” Reliving her delight at seeing him in the graveyard, she leaned in and peppered his face with kisses, just as she had then. “I still can’t believe you came back to me, and we have another chance at happiness”

Gently cradling her head with his hook, Killian kissed Emma reverently on either side of her mouth. Resting his forehead against hers he assured her, “It will take a lot more than two deaths, the Darkness and Hades to keep me away from you, Swan,” and tenderly kissed her again.

Emma returned the kiss briefly, not finished with what she needed to say.

“But then, less than 24 hours after you get back, Henry runs away to destroy magic, and naturally I followed, he is my son. But it meant I was separated from you again. And all the time I thought you were safely back in Storybrooke with everyone else, I was fine. Well not fine exactly,” she paused scanning his eyes for understanding.

“It was fine because you believed I was safe, I get it.” Killian smiled at her tracing her jaw with his fingers.

“Except you weren’t safe,” Emma replied, tears starting to pool in her eyes. She took a ragged breath trying to get her emotions under control enough to finish. “When I got that message from Granny to say that you had been pulled through a portal into yet another realm, I felt my whole world crumble beneath me. Except this time it wasn’t just you that I would lose but my parents too.”

“Oh Emma,” Killian whispered, as he brushed a tear from her cheek. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that, my love. I swear I have no intention of ever leaving your side again. I’m here with you for as long as you want me.”

“Good.”

Emma wrapped her arms around his neck and moved to sit astride Killian’s lap as she kissed him passionately, her tears falling more freely now. He returned the kiss with equal fervour, his arms tight around her back, pulling her further onto his lap, chest to chest their skin separated only by the thin material of his shirt and Emma’s black jumper.

A low moan escaped Emma’s throat as she felt him harden against her. Days of pain and longing since she left him in the Underworld turned to desperate desire. Without breaking the kiss she leant back enough to start pulling at the buttons of Killian’s shirt, anxious to feel his skin. Sensing the urgency in her movements, Killian in turn started pulling Emma’s jumper up above her stomach and over her breasts.

She broke the kiss momentarily to switch and pull her own jumper off, whilst he in turn threw his shirt to the floor. They stood and quickly removed their remaining clothes before resuming the kiss and Emma pulled Killian back onto the bed beside her. Their kisses became a clash of teeth and tongues as Emma’s tears continued to fall freely. Her fingers tentatively explored the network of newer scars upon his back as their bodies moved against each other in a tight embrace.

“Need you. Now,” Emma urged between kisses, “can’t wait any longer.”

“Are you sure, love? I don’t want to hurt you, if you’re not ready for me.”

“Please Killian, I need this.”

He pulled back to look into her eyes, still shimmering with the last of her tears, and seeing the love and desperation and want reflected back at him, he positioned himself and closed the one remaining gap between their bodies.

Afterwards, they lay together sweaty and sated, legs tangled and arms entwined. Emma tracing the curve of Killian’s hook whilst he drew lazy patterns on her thigh with his fingertips.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she whispered into his chest.

“Me too love, me too.”

Emma woke early the next morning still wrapped in Killian’s arms. She spent several minutes taking in the peaceful expression on his face, committing it to memory and giving silent thanks to Zeus for returning him to her.

“I can feel you watching me love,” Killian murmured, opening his eyes a fraction and then squinting against the sunlight streaming in through the window.

After saying a proper good morning that explored every inch of each other’s flesh and then getting slightly distracted again in the shower, Emma and Killian finally made it out of their room for breakfast.

“Ok Swan, what’s the plan for today then?” Killian asked as he piled his fork high with pancake and scrambled eggs.

“Well, I thought we could take a slow drive towards Providence as there’s something nearby that I think you might appreciate. We can grab lunch on the way, spend the afternoon there, and then head on to Boston to stay overnight. Do you think you could find us somewhere to stay on your phone, if I scope out our daytime activities for the next couple of days?”

“Well I’m still not particularly sure how to use all aspects of this device, but I’m sure if you show me the basics love, I’ll figure it out.”

Emma spent a few minutes taking Killian step by step through installing the Hotwire app onto his phone and then showing him how to search for and book a hotel. Once he was set she searched through reviews on Trip Advisor whilst sipping her coffee, and within the hour they were all booked up, checked out of their room and on the road with their route plotted.

Aside from the anticipated congestion in and around New York, the traffic was fairly steady once they got out of the sprawling metropolis and onto Route 15. They made easy conversation, chatting about anything and nothing; reminiscing about their previous journey from New York to Maine; complaining about their fellow road users inability to signal before changing lanes and laughing over the humorous bumper stickers they spotted. At other times they sat in companionable silence, Killian’s hook resting on Emma’s thigh, tracing lazy patterns across her jeans as she drove.

“I remember last time being terrified that Henry would think I was crazy if we told him that magic and different realms and fairytale characters were real,” Emma said, glancing over at Killian briefly. “I never once imagined I’d be making a similar trip home after he had gone on a gungho mission to rid the world of magic and then have him open up a portal in a fountain with the help of hundreds of bemused bystanders.”

Killian chuckled in the seat beside her. “Aye love, but maybe the truest believer needed to find his belief again, he’s been through a lot, and has been given huge responsibility for someone so young.”

Emma sighed. “That’s true, and I’ve been so caught up in my own grief that I didn’t see how much everything has affected him. I doubt many teenagers can include a trip to the Underworld in their ‘What I did on Vacation’ report for school.”

"Look at it this way Swan, in addition to giving the lad more family than he ever expected, you’re giving him a broad range of character building adventures.” Killian gave Emma his brightest grin and raised an eyebrow at her as she momentarily took her eyes off the road again to look at him in disbelief.

“The lad is a credit to you love, and whilst his latest actions were misguided, and admittedly could have been disastrous for your parents and myself, his intentions were pure and that’s what matters.”  

Emma’s brow remained furrowed at the thought of how Henry’s actions could have turned out, and so Killian gently rubbed the curve of his hook along her thigh in an attempt to ease her worries.

After a couple of hours driving, they had passed New Haven and took a turn off the interstate through the leafy town of Guilford, which Killian remarked looked quite similar to Storybrooke at first glance. Emma navigated through the streets and eventually pulled up behind a seafood shack overlooking the marina.

“I’ve heard they do amazing clams and lobster rolls,” she said, opening her door and climbing out of the bug. Killian followed suit, taking stock of the various fishing boats and pleasure crafts moored in the harbour as they walked around the side of the building to the entrance.

Inside they were welcomed and shown to a table outside overlooking the water. A sense of calm washed over Killian as he stretched back in his seat and took in the view of the ocean reaching all the way to the horizon.

“Even if the food is abysmal here, I think you made an excellent choice in eating establishment Swan.”

Emma reached across the table and took his hand, rubbing her thumb along his knuckle. “I thought you might appreciate being close to the water again. That’s kind of the theme for today.”

His eyes softened as he gripped her fingers in return. “I do appreciate it Swan, very much. Whilst I was able to wander along the docks during my time in the Underworld, the stench of death that rose from the water and the sight of so many lost souls beneath the surface made me reluctant to venture there often.”

After the waitress took their order, they sat back and watched a small red and white lobster boat putter into the harbour, a flock of gulls circling above, hopeful for an opportunistic feast. Lunch arrived shortly after, the groan Killian made as he bit into his hot lobster roll verged on obscene and Emma had to stifle a giggle. That was until he offered her a bite to try. When the sherry butter flooded her mouth, her own moan of delight was so loud it drew attention from a family seated at a table nearby.

“Oh my God, that’s amazing,” she mumbled, still chewing.

“Indeed it is love, as are you. Especially when you make exquisite noises like that,” Killian replied, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Emma grinned and returned to her own lunch, deliberately choosing not to encourage him further just yet. Whilst the prospect of teasing Killian with suggestive looks and sounds all day was appealing, they had many hours left in the day before they would reach Boston, and she wanted him to able to focus on their tourist adventures first.

After their meal Emma cruised the bug along the I95 towards Providence and eventually Fall River.  As they drove Killian tried to find a radio station that they could both enjoy. Although he had grown accustomed to much of the music in this realm, there were still many aspects that he found discordant and unpleasant.

“Bloody hell! How can people subject themselves to this noise voluntarily?” he grumped having twiddled with the dial until it picked up a station playing rap music. “And I know that I quite literally swear like a sailor, but I hardly think that type of language is appropriate, what if we had children in the car with us?”

“Although I’d like to think that Henry is still quite innocent I’m sure he’s probably heard worse in the playground at school,” Emma laughed. “Still, point taken, try again. Maybe the next station will be more to your taste. If not I’ve probably got a couple of cassettes in the glove compartment.“

Killian turned the dial some more, found another station, listened for a couple of seconds, frowned and moved on. He repeated this same process three more times disapproving of each tune that blasted out of the tinny speakers in the bug.

"No! Wait, go back, I love that one!” Emma interrupted, as he skipped yet another station.

“As you wish love.”

He turned the dial back to the last station as the final verse of Whitesnake’s ‘Here I Go Again’ played out and sat with his arms crossed, as yet unconvinced at Emma’s choice of station. As the song came to an end and merged into Peter Cetera’s ‘Glory of Love’, he glanced across to see if Emma still approved of the station.

“You can’t beat 80s power ballads, trust me,” she said, “especially on a road trip.”

“Hmm, perhaps.”

Sure enough, Killian relaxed as the verse moved into the chorus and by the second refrain he was humming along.

“Well?” Emma asked, as the song came to an end.

“Admittedly that was rather enjoyable, some of the lyrics were quite apt, especially the part about how his love keeps him standing tall. Good form, a song about fighting for honour and love.”

“Told you so.” Emma grinned smugly and by the time they had reached the outskirts of Fall River, both of them were singing along at the top of their voices, whether they knew the words or not.

Emma pulled the bug to a stop in a parking lot under the Memorial Bridge across from the docks.

“You have me intrigued love,” Killian said, climbing out of the car.

“You’ll see,” she replied, grabbing his hand and pulling him across the tarmac towards the entrance. “I thought you might be interested in discovering what naval history was like in this world, and so I’ve brought you here to Battleship Cove. We can have a tour of a couple of battleships and they have a pretty cool museum with maritime history through the ages.”

Killian’s eyes lit up as they lingered on the fleet of massive steel vessels docked on the river. “Belle directed me to some books that explored these feats of engineering a while back, but to see them with my own eyes, is certainly a treat.”

They spent nearly four hours wandering through the USS Massachusetts and the exhibits in the maritime museum, and could have spent even longer exploring other ships if they hadn’t needed to get to Boston. As they went, Killian pointed out similarities between these ships and his beloved Jolly, and had many questions for the veterans posted around the attraction, listening enraptured to anecdotes of naval battles in their youth.

“I have seen a fair few adventures with my own vessel” he began whilst conversing with an elderly veteran who had served in Korea.

Sensing how rapidly the conversation could spiral out of control, Emma leaned in and whispered in his ear, “He won’t understand that you’re a 300 year old pirate, keep it believable.”

Killian nodded his understanding almost imperceptibly. “I spent my formative years in the Royal Navy before being discharged due to my injury.” He waved his gloved prosthetic in illustration. While on deployment in the Indian Ocean we encountered Somalian pirates, although I must admit the modern incarnations were nothing like the ones you see in the movies.“

Emma looked at him in amazement, and when the conversation came to an end and they moved on with their tour she admitted, "I didn’t know you had so much knowledge about pirates in the 21st Century, Killian. I’m impressed.”

He puffed out his chest in pride and his stride took on a distinct swagger. “Well love, the lady Belle keeps me supplied in books, and I had quite a number of lonely nights to read them after the Dark One was banished from our little town and we had no villain to defeat. I learned a lot about a great many subjects including the history of piracy in this realm.”

They continued their tour hand in hand until it became clear that the museum was closing and they made their way to the exit.

“How long from here to Boston, love?”

“Um an hour I guess? Probably a bit more given the time of day.”

Back in the car again, Killian gave Emma the details of the hotel he had booked for them and they set off. It was located in the Waterfront area and as they drove through the city from the outskirts Emma pointed out her old haunts, and also some of the places she’d had misadventures whilst chasing skips. They made a quick stop in Downtown Crossing to purchase some fresh clothes for the next day, and Emma added a blue chiffon Bardot dress and a pair of silver heels to her purchases whilst Killian was browsing the menswear department.

The hotel Killian had chosen was unexpectedly lavish. The huge lobby was the epitome of chic with with polished cherry and chrome, and the room he had booked took Emma’s breath away. He had splurged on an executive suite with separate sitting room and a bathroom boasting a spa bath and monsoon shower. It also had a magnificent harbour view, naturally. When she asked how he could possibly afford it, he just smirked and replied, “Pirate, love, remember?”

Back on her home turf, Emma knew just the restaurant for them to dine in and booked a table while Killian freshened up, she then took a few minutes to get changed herself.

They enjoyed a relaxed meal with a couple of glasses of wine in a little Italian a few blocks from their hotel. As they both tucked into a shared dessert of an indulgent ice cream sundae topped with brownie chunks, whipped cream and a decadent fudge sauce, Emma drew Killian’s attention to the building on the street corner opposite.

“That’s where I used to live,” she pointed to a window several floors up, “Apartment 205. Until Henry knocked on my door, and changed my life forever.”

“I’m eternally grateful that he did love. Had he not, the curse would never have been broken, your family would not have been reunited, and I would still be frozen in time on an island with Cora.”

“Is that the only reason you’re thankful that I broke the curse?” she asked playfully, looking up at him through her eyelashes as she licked ice cream off the end of the spoon seductively, making Killian’s jeans feel instantly tighter.  

“Minx,” he replied, holding her gaze, his eyes two shades darker than they had been a moment before, “I’ll gladly tell you all the reasons I am grateful, or if you’d rather,” he paused reaching his hand under the table to trace patterns along her thigh, his eyes never leaving hers, “I can always show you. What do you say, Swan?”

Emma gulped and caught a passing waiter’s attention. “Check please!”

Killian pulled Emma up from the armchair in their suite, where she had perched to remove her shoes, and into his embrace.

Killian placed a featherlight kiss on her earlobe. “Let me,” he murmured ghosting his lips along her jawline as he kissed her again.  “Show you,” a flick of his tongue as he trailed his mouth down the curve of her neck.   “Just,” another caress of his lips on her throat.  “How thankful,” Emma gasped as his scruff grazed her collarbone with another delicately placed kiss. “I am,” he continued with a touch of his lips to one exposed shoulder.  “That you,” breathed in a whisper as he slowly moved behind her, lifting her hair up gently and nuzzling into the back of her neck, whilst he unzipped her dress. “Broke,” a lingering kiss on the other shoulder as her dress pooled on the floor at her ankles, leaving her naked but for her lacy cream thong.  Returning to cradle her face with his palm and his hook, Killian brought his nose to hers and stared into her eyes for what felt like an eternity. “The curse,” he finished pressing his lips to hers tenderly.  

Emma wrapped her arms around him and sighed into the kiss, opening her mouth to welcome him as his tongue traced the contours of her lips.

Using every ounce of restraint Killian had, he broke the kiss before it could become too heated, and led Emma over towards the bed. Kneeling before her he placed a delicate kiss to each of her hip bones then gently pulled her underwear down her legs, following their journey with his lips. Rising to his feet he kissed her briefly once more and encouraged her to lie back in the centre of the bed. As Emma made herself comfortable he quickly shed his own clothing and brace, removing the hook and bringing it with him as he lay down beside her, propped up on one elbow.

Emma could feel could feel the heat starting to build between her thighs as Killian’s gaze travelled over her body, seemingly committing every inch of her skin to memory once again.

“You are simply divine, love.”

Placing the tip of his hook at the base of her throat he trailed it very lightly down her chest, pausing momentarily before skimming up over one breast to trace the shape of her pebbled nipple and then repeating the action on the other side. Emma moaned at the sensation and licked her lips, trying to stay as still as possible under the sharp tip of the cold steel. He dragged the hook down lower until it rested in her belly button briefly before turning it over to run the curve along the glistening skin of her sex, wet with arousal. The contact with that most delicate area made Emma gasp as her hips flexed up towards the hook involuntarily.

Killian shook his head and tutted, gently pushing her hips back down. “All in good time,” he said, “I promise it will be worth the wait.”  Emma rolled her eyes in frustration, but didn’t protest knowing he would deliver on that promise.

Setting the hook aside and moving to straddle her, he returned his attention to her breasts, rolling the left nipple between his thumb and forefinger whilst gently suckling on the right. Alternating the pressure and the tempo between featherlight touches and small twists and nibbles he could sense Emma’s increasing arousal as her breathing turned to gasps, and the fingers laced through his hair pulled his mouth in closer. In a practiced move that he knew she loved, he simultaneously twisted one nipple vigorously whilst biting down hard on the other.

“Fuck! Killiaaan,” Emma moaned as her hips bucked and sought friction that wasn’t to be found. As he maintained the pressure on her nipples, she felt her arousal flood her core as the first flutters of an orgasm took hold.

Killian beamed from ear to ear to see Emma fall apart for him so quickly. He delighted in giving her pleasure and knew how sensitive her nipples could be. He hoped to coax her to at least two more orgasms before seeking his own relief, his hard cock bobbing against his stomach at the vision of his Emma writhing between his thighs.

He moved further down the bed, trailing kisses down her stomach, until he reached the apex of her thighs. Emma eagerly spread her legs for him, as he pulled one over his shoulder, resting his blunted wrist on her flat stomach. Using his fingers to carefully separate her folds he traced his tongue around her labia, lapping at her abundant juices and moaning as her exquisite tang hit his tastebuds.

Hearing Killian’s moans between her thighs made Emma even wetter. She angled her hips to give him better access, whispering rambled words of encouragement. He switched his attention to her swollen clit, flicking his tongue against it and she moaned in relief at him finally providing the friction that she had been so desperate to receive. For what seemed like an eternity, Killian attentively kissed, licked and suckled her to ecstasy, alternating his movements building her towards another peak but then directing his attention to another highly sensitive area never quite bringing her over the edge.

Finally, when Emma thought she could take no more, he looked up at her through his eyelashes, and although she couldn’t see his mouth, she could tell he was grinning wolfishly.

“Come for me, Emma,” he growled before returning to his ministrations. As he sucked on her clit she felt the heat building in the soles of her feet and her orgasm finally took hold, her hips jerking as her walls flexed and clenched, wave upon wave of bliss washing over her.  

Killian wiped his mouth along the back of his arm and moved back up the bed to lie alongside Emma and drew her into a deep and passionate kiss.

“Thank you,” she whispered, as they broke apart. “That was amazing.”

“I’m not done yet,” he replied, “think you can handle more, when you’ve got your breath back?”

“Well if you insist on showing your gratitude some more, then who am I to refuse?” she giggled pulling him back in for another kiss. The kiss was long and slow, their tongues tangling with each other, Killian’s hand caressing Emma’s side in languid patterns as she ran her fingers through his chest hair and across his back. She closed the distance between their bodies, wrapping her leg over Killian’s hip and then rolled him above her so that he lay between her thighs. Killian positioned himself at her entrance and pushed into her slowly, both of them groaning into the kiss at the sensation.  He tilted his hips and pushed as Emma stretched deliciously around his length until he was fully seated. He stilled waiting for her to clench around him, encouraging him to move, as he knew she would.

Just as slowly Killian pulled back, all the way out, Emma whimpering at the loss of him and wrapping her legs tighter around his waist to pull him back in again. Surrendering to her desires he snapped his hips and plunged back in hard and fast.

“God! Yes Killian! Just like that,” Emma cried, her nails digging into his back.

Having found the perfect angle Killian started thrusting, building into a frantic rhythm that soon had Emma crying out and had him gritting his teeth to hold on long enough to bring her to completion one last time.

Emma moved her hands from Killian’s back and grabbed her breasts, tweaking her nipples in time with his thrusts. The familiar sensation started building and with one last twist and tug her orgasm started coursing through her. Her muscles began to clench around his shaft, and that was enough to break Killian’s remaining sliver of control. His hips sputtered, once then twice and Emma felt his seed release deep within her. He slowed until he lay still above her, panting into the crook of her neck before rolling to the side and collapsing into her open arms.

“That was…” he panted running his hand over his face.

“Long overdue,” she replied blissfully.

They lay together entangled and catching their breath for a long while before Emma dragged herself into the bathroom to clean up, and returned with a glass of water for them both.

Climbing back into bed, Killian pulled her into his embrace and they whispered sweet nothings to each other until sleep took them.

They had brunch delivered to their room, neither in any hurry to leave the comfort of their sumptuous bed, unless it was to take advantage of the spa bath in their suite. Eventually, having enjoyed each other on every available surface, Emma and Killian checked out and set off to their next destination. She initially planned to spend the morning in Salem giving Killian an insight into how witchcraft had been viewed in years gone by. Their lazy morning put paid to that idea, and instead they headed north towards Portland.

As Emma drove, Killian took charge of the radio again, fiddling with the dial until he found something satisfactory.  

When ‘Somebody to Love’ by Queen came on, Emma reached over and turned up the volume. As he listened a strange sensation came over him, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He didn’t believe he had heard this song before, yet something about it resonated within him. Perhaps Emma would be able to explain it. He settled back and let the music with Emma’s enthusiastic supporting vocals and steering wheel drumming wash over him.

“In case you couldn’t tell, I love that song,” Emma enthused afterwards.

“Aye, that was apparent. So tell me, why do you love it so much?”

“It’s hard to put my finger on. Some songs, the words just get to me, you know? But this one, it’s more about the tune. I’ve always loved it, even when I little kid. I always get a sense of deja-vu when I hear it, and it always makes me feel safe. I dunno, I just really like it.”

“It’s funny you should mention deja-vu, Emma. For I also had the strangest sensation when it played. I’m certain I haven’t heard it before, and yet as you say there’s something about it. It stirred a memory in me that is just out of reach, and I felt an urge to stand on a table and pump my fist in the air.”

“Well, an involuntary fist pump is a sign of a good rock song Killian,” Emma laughed. “I’ll have to take you and Henry to a gig sometime.”

“A gig?” Killian’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“A concert, Killian. Where the band performs their songs live,” Emma replied gently, reaching across to squeeze his knee. Whilst his knowledge of American terminology improved daily, his occasional confusion over unknown phrases was still endearing.

Arriving in Old Orchard Beach, Emma drove straight to the beachfront motel she had booked. It was simple accommodation, but it was clean and functional and unexpectedly had sliding glass doors opening out onto the pool terrace and the footpath leading to the beach.

“As this is our last afternoon, let’s have some seaside fun Killian,” Emma suggested, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the glass doors.

Killian grinned and followed willingly down to the beach. Miles of sand stretched out in both directions. They strolled along the shoreline hand in hand, towards the distant pier and fairground and soon they encountered signs for Pirates Cove Adventure Golf.

“Can we?” Emma bubbled, practically bouncing with excitement. It had been years since she last played crazy golf.  

“I have no idea what Adventure Golf is, but how can I resist somewhere with pirates in the name? It would be terribly bad form,” Killian replied, with a flourish and an exaggerated bow. “Lead on Swan”

Although he had agreed to the activity willingly, never imagined that it would involve chasing a little ball around a ridiculous obstacle course with a metal stick. Once he had found a way to support the club with his hook, he found himself to be quite skilful and to Emma’s chagrin was beating her fair and square.

Emma was thrilled to be spending time being silly with her Captain, and his frequent grousing at the inaccuracies of the model pirates around the course had her in fits of giggles.

“They’ve given me a hook, a peg-leg and a parrot on the shoulder! That’s overkill on the pirate clichés isn’t it?”

“It’s a pirate themed fun park Hook, cliché is pretty much guaranteed!”

Eventually Emma and Killian finished the 18-hole course, not sure who had won after losing count halfway round. They returned their clubs to the booth and walked back out onto the beach heading towards the pier and the fairground.  

They bought corn dogs and beers from a booth on the pier and found a bench to sit and eat watching the waves. Then they pottered around the fairground and amusement arcades until dusk. Killian tried to win Emma a stuffed toy at various stalls without success. She managed to win a tiger for him in a shooting gallery, and not to be outdone when they came across a coconut shy he was finally victorious, presenting her with a giant bear that would take up most of the bug’s back seat in the morning.

They shared candy floss, and rode the carousel and the big wheel. As it stopped at the top to let on new fairgoers, Emma squeezed Killian’s hand and cupped his cheek.

“Killian, there’s something I need to tell you, that I haven’t said before now,” Emma began.

“What’s that, Swan?”

“I…love you Killian.”

In reply Killian leaned in for a passionate kiss, as the ride began to move again.

As night fell they walked back, hook in hand along the beach, the moon high in the sky above them. Hearts bursting with love for one another. And whilst the painful recollections of their separation in the Underworld remained, for the time being they were buried beneath joyful memories of quiet moments, of passion and of laughter.  

@csstorybook @flslp87 @whimsicallyenchantedrose