MOVED TO VITAEI

would anyone be upset if i moved emma to my multi? asking for a friend who’s obviously me.

But it was never said, and nothing was ever done. He could blame it on the eggnog if he drank any. ( He didn’t. ) and he could blame it on the mistletoe if it was hanging above her head ( It wasn’t. ) 

The distance between Emma and Caiden was diminished quickly as he pulled her in close : one arm around her waist as the other moved to the back of her head and he kissed her. 

Not a drunken sloppy kiss that could be laughed off later. No, this was a kiss where all the words he couldn’t say were put into this one action. Fingers dipped into the small of her back while lips lingered, parted and took it to another level. He’d hold on to it for as long as she’d allow only parting when breath felt necessary. 

Silence except for breathing until he finally got up the nerves to say what he wanted to say all this time. Or he would have gotten up the nerve if looking at her now after that kiss didn’t eliminate his way to word. 

“I..uh…M-Merry Christmas, Emma…" 

simple had always been just perfect for emma. and simple moments, gifts, and the like would never be lacking between them as far as she was concerned. if she was being honest - there was no place she’d rather be than spending this moment with caiden. after the celebration her family had made ( not that she’d complain about that, either, they had a lot of missed holidays to make up for ) emma was overdue for a bit of quiet.

they’d been doing this dance for almost as long as she’d been in storybrooke, and while she appreciated the steps of it --- the fact that he respected her need to take things slow ( or maybe he had the same desire ), it seemed as though a shift in the atmosphere had occurred, and she wasn’t shying away from it.

it wasn’t the first time they shared a kiss --- not even close --- but there was something different about this one, something that held more meaning in it than she was used to, and when he pulled away, a part of her half expected a different set of words to follow.

a quiet chuckle ( almost nervous at its roots ) would escape her lips when they didn’t, and it hung between them in the minimal space that existed there for a time, before she closed the distance with one soft kiss, holding none of the passion of the one that had preceded it, and yet still carrying the same kind of weight. her response came as a whispered breath once they parted again.

but things have changed drastically for her. she’s found her family, she’s fallen in love, and despite all of the hardships that seem to follow her —- for the first time in almost as long as she can remember —- she’s happy.

so yes, she’d ordered a custom hook online that was inlaid with fake jewels and equipped with a rattling core... but that had been the joke. one of those gifts that would keep on giving simply for the comedic value.

the real gift —- the one she hopes he’ll appreciate as much as she imagines —- is something a little less solid, a little less tangible. it’s just an escape... a weekend away, just the two of them, away from storybrooke and everything that comes with it. and when she hands him the envelope that contains nothing more than a hotel confirmation, emma simply leans over to press a quick kiss to his lips, before sitting back with a smile.

‘   merry christmas, killian.   ’

The last time he did this it ended in darkness, then it he came back from where ever he was…But that didn’t stop him from taking a chance to kiss her this time. There was nothing that Regina could do to his heart now as it was back in his chest, beating as it should.There was no one to take this moment from him this time, or this chance that he may have with her. 

Trembling hands moved to her cheeks as he held her close, his feet steady on solid ground. This reassured him that this is all real. 

“ I love you, Emma. “ 

there was something so comforting about that moment --- the kiss, the way he held her close, the fact that the happiness that swelled in her chest didn’t end the way it had before. and emma sighed against him, smile bright as her hands moved to his ------as if to hold him there, unwilling to allow him to release her from his touch. 

and then those words made her falter ------ ever so slightly, her heart pounding in her chest as if to remind her that he was awaiting an answer to them. she was surprised to find they came easily to her lips, but somehow struggled to pass through them. 

❛   graham, i just------  ❜

she released his hands, letting her own fall to her sides, eyes falling downward ------an apology in them but no words to accompany that gaze.

This was a thankless job, he’d known it going in. What was kept from the young Rogers was the endless amount of frustrations that came with it as well; most that had nothing to do with whether or not you got to close a case. It was this bloody system, the greedy machine that took away more than it gave. 

The Swan case? It was close and sealed. On paper, it was just neat. Wrapped around with a pretty bow, even. The reality was more complicated, and way less satisfying. The perp they had gotten in didn’t feel like a victory; justice was not being made by putting a girl like Emma Swan behind bars. All that pent up frustration had led him to make an unusual decision. This didn’t feel right, so he would find a way to make it so. 

He’d scheduled the visit on the same day of his resolve, before anything else could cloud his judgement. When the time came to drive down to the low-security facility, he’d been pestered with some shadows of doubt. What could he say? What would he do? Maybe she’d even refuse to see him, what reason would she have to do it, anyway? 

But he pushes it aside, all those pesky thoughts, and soldiers through. He walks in, and is partly surprised that his request to see her hadn’t been rejected by Emma. James sits at an empty table in a room filled with others in the same position; he is far from the most anxious looking person in there, but he doubts their reasons are similar. 

When the inmates come in, he rises to his feet at once, unaware of what poor a job his features were doing at hiding his nerves. She comes into his sight, prompting a small smile from him. He tries to look amicable, so much that he even thinks of extending his hand for a shake, but is reminded of the no touch rule  –––  and also that the gesture seemed inadequate in such a place. He settles for just a verbal greeting, though he is unsure of what he will blurt out. 

‘  Emma. I’m… I’m glad you said yes to seeing me. I wasn’t sure if you would.  ’

when they'd told her someone had scheduled a visit, emma had at first believed and hoped --- albeit foolishly --- that it would be neal. when they'd informed her that no --- it was actually her arresting officer, she hadn't known what to think of it. he'd been KIND to her, but what could he possibly want now ------what purpose could a meeting with her serve to some COP.

her public defender had done her no favors ( not that she'd expected any ) and she'd be stuck in a cell for the next eleven months. while she can't deny a slew of crimes, the worst of all had been TRUSTING that someone could actually love her, and stay with her ------hadn't the past proven that to be an impossibility by now ? she'd spend the next eleven months kicking herself for her mistake.

and she's NERVOUS when she walks into the room where various friends and family members have gathered to meet with their loved ones --- the other women they only had so many opportunities to see during their sentences. while they're all greeted with smiles and tears, she stares blankly at a man that's no more than a stranger with a kind face. it baffles her. emma wipes sweaty palms down the sides of her pant legs as she approaches, and offers him what feels like the ghost of a smile ---but she hasn't been doing a whole lot of smiling these days.

❛   i wasn't sure either.   ❜

it’s a quiet admission, and she quickly takes a seat across from where he stands, brow raised as if to remind him that he can sit too, and shrugs, shaking her head.

Their Father’s work loved to complain.That had been made apparent to Michael from the off, looking down from the bounds of creation to these wriggling lifeforms in the dust, but still they had bowed to them anyway. Their thousand eyes had been shuttered away, their gnashing mouths sealed shut and replaced with something beatific, glorious and like Man themselves. They had become as Man, for Man, but they had never understood the human need to complain.

Gabriel, with his wily ways and easy smiles, charming the light from the sky and announcing their Father’s word like something ancient and terrible, could tell them the human ways. He, unlike them, had always understood Father’s creations as Michael never could.

If only Michael cared enough to ask, to know, over looking down upon the squalling babes from above.

“Humans have invented a strange way of life.” came the intonation, spoken with all the authority of a leader to their people. This was not opinion; this was truth, and Michael was a speaker of it. Their wings pressed against their mortal shell, yearning to spill out in their glory and be free of all bodily confines. “You were all created to be this way. Do not defy it.”

Danger bled into their tone, the thought of Lucifer bitter behind their eyes.

that almost threatening tone didn’t escape her notice, but emma wasn’t quite feeling like being pushed around on this particular night ---not that she ever felt that way, but sometimes you had to pick your battles. amazing the things you learn while learning to be a parent.

❛   hate to break it to you pal,   ❜

the look on her face made it clear that she did not hate it, not one bit --- but the expression would serve its purpose, in any case. a shrug and her lips pursed, brows raised as she looked up toward this... presence, because she wasn't sure what to make of the intensity of the being before her ------not human, too much, too ---loud, but not in a way of volume. she couldn’t explain it, had no intention of trying, and it seemed to matter little, anyway. 

❛   but i'm not real keen on being told what to do ------ or what not to do.   ❜

       ‘  When it comes to fortune and glory, I’m definitely more interested in the first.  ’   The latter, along with honour and whatever else came in that bloody package, was entirely lost in him. Well, at least he would make it look like it was. His business left little place for sentiment; a kill or be killed sorta thing. At every turn, at every system no matter how far, he had to look out for himself first and foremost.  ‘  So spare me your speech about  –––  ‘  Jones gives their surroundings a look-over, deciding that naming the Resistance out in the open like that would be ill-advised in the very least.   ‘  Your situation, and skip to the payment you can give me for granting you transport, love.  ’

Henry is just staring at Emma. Blinking, disbelieving and yet believing she would say something like that >.>   ( reaction to this )

❛   i don’t know why you’re looking at me like that, kid------   ❜

she makes a show of looking offended by his look of disbelief --- as if he’s silently commenting that he doesn’t agree. she’d obviously been making a joke ( though when she’d started making corny ‘dad jokes’ is something she’ll have to revisit another time ) but the truth is she’s done a pretty damn good job of protecting them from various things thus far ---all things considered.