#csff

It had been an exhausting day for Emma Swan-Jones in her role as sheriff of Storybrooke. How in the world could such a small town have so many ‘emergency’ calls in the scope of eight hours? One of these days, she was going to ask Regina to call a special town meeting to explain what actually constituted an emergency, and what was simply a frivolous misuse of the sheriff’s time. Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater’s wife trapped in a pumpkin shell - emergency. Granny requesting Ruby’s arrest for indecent exposure because her skirt was too short - not an emergency.

As she neared the home she shared with her husband, Emma’s bad mood began to lift. She knew Killian would be waiting to greet her with a warm embrace and heart-stopping kiss, as always. Maybe she could even talk him into giving her one of his spectacular foot rubs that never failed to relax her.

She got out of her car, went through the front gate and was starting up the porch steps, when the front door flew open. A broad smile crossed her face seeing her husband rushing onto the porch, sure he was as eager to see her as she was to see him.

“Sorry, Love,” he said, racing past her. “Dave called. One of his sheep is giving birth and he needs my help. I’ll be home soon.”

Emma watched him jump into his truck and drive off toward her parents’ farm. Then she slowly turned and went into the house, her sour mood firmly cemented. He hadn’t even stopped to give her a hug or kiss, and she definitely wouldn’t be getting a foot rub.

The birth of a lamb could take minutes or hours. Either way, Killian probably wasn’t going to be home for a while, which meant she would be eating dinner alone. Going into the kitchen, she hoped to see something cooking on the stove. Usually, either Killian would have dinner almost ready by the time she got home, or they would cook it together. Seeing the empty stovetop, she pulled open the oven door, finding it equally empty. She crossed over to the refrigerator, scanning its contents. When absolutely nothing appealed to her, she slammed the door shut and turned to lean against it, arms crossed.

This called for extreme measures. Going to the cupboard where Henry hid his secret stash of food, she pushed aside the paper plates and styrofoam cups - things Killian refused to use, claiming they were ‘modern atrocities’ - and pulled out the box of cinnamon Pop-tarts. She took out one foil wrapped pack and pulled it open. After removing one of the two pastries, she started to return the other to the box, then stopped. “Oh, what the hell? If this is gonna be my dinner, I might as well eat both of them,” she mumbled to herself.

Ten minutes later, she was sitting on the sofa with the toasted Pop-tarts and a mug of hot cocoa. “Dinner of champions,” she muttered, before taking a huge bite.

*********

Two evenings later, Emma was sitting on the sofa again - this time snuggled into her husband’s side, his arm wrapped securely around her, holding her close. She was just beginning to doze off, when his ‘talking phone’ buzzed on the coffee table. Removing his arm from her shoulders, he leaned forward to pick it up. After reading the text, he clucked his tongue and got to his feet.

The abrupt movement nearly made her topple over. “What are you doing?” she asked with a note of aggravation in her voice.

“Happy just texted me. Sleepy was supposed to be the dwarves’ designated driver tonight and they’re unable to rouse him from his nap. I’m going to go pick them up from The Rabbit Hole and deliver them home.”

“How many are there?”

“All of them,” he threw over his shoulder, already pulling his black leather coat off the hook by the door.

“So, let me get this straight - you’re picking up all seven dwarfs and taking them each to their own home? That’s going to take you at least an hour.”

“Probably more. I can’t fit all seven in the cab of my truck so I’ll more than likely have to make three trips.”

“Maybe I should help you,” she offered.

“No need, Love. It’s quite chilly out tonight. You stay warm and cozy here at home.” With those words, he was out the door.

Emma stared at the closed door for several seconds. “Warm and cozy, my ass,” she grumbled.

*********

The next week, Emma was at the sheriff’s station, waiting for Killian to bring her lunch, as usual. Noon came and went, then twelve-thirty. Finally, at twelve-forty five, her phone rang with Killian’s number lighting up the screen. “Hey, Babe,” she answered. “Did you lose track of time? I’m getting kind of hungry.”

“Sorry, Love. I’ll be unable to deliver your lunch today. I’m down at the docks helping Eric clean the barnacles off of his fishing trawler and we’re only about half finished. You know how I hate starting a job and not seeing it through to completion. Besides, I’m really quite the mess and I doubt you want me anywhere near your food. I hope you understand.”

Emma sighed. “Yeah, I understand. I’ll get my own lunch today, but I’ll miss seeing you.”

“I’ll miss you too, Swan. See you tonight. I love you.”

She was opening her mouth to respond, when she realized the call had already ended. “Love you, too,” she whispered.

*********

Over the next three weeks, Emma was left alone several more times when Killian was called away by Storybrooke’s residents for a variety of reasons. Granny required his expertise in creating a new boiled mackerel dish to add to the menu. Snow needed help with a bluebird suffering from a broken wing. He offered to walk Pongo while Archie met with a new patient. Anton asked him to help harvest a new crop of magic beans. He filled in for the Rabbit Hole’s bartender when he cut his hand on a broken glass, and gave Ruby feedback on which pair of black leather boots to purchase. Even Henry got into the act, asking him to be his guest for career day (which only made Emma a little bit jealous).

They were sitting down to eat dinner one evening when Killian’s phone buzzed with another text. As he reached for the phone laying on the table, Emma slapped her hand down on top of his. He looked up at her in surprise. “What’s wrong, Love?” he asked, clearly puzzled over her behavior.

“Please don’t leave me,” she said firmly.

“Leave you? I would never do that,” he protested.

“You do it all the time,” she responded, despising the whine she heard in her voice.

Killian’s brows shot up to his hairline. “What do you mean?”

“Have you not noticed how you’re so busy helping everyone else, that we hardly have a peaceful evening together anymore? Or that you’re too busy at lunchtime to bring me my lunch and sit down to eat with me like you always used to do?”

He seemed to wilt a little. “I’m simply trying to help my friends.”

“And while I appreciate that you’ve made so many friends and they all trust you to help them with their problems, I miss you, Killian.”

His head dropped. “I’m sorry, Love. In my pursuit to ingratiate myself to the residents of Storybrooke, I’m afraid I’ve neglected you.”

She stood up and walked over to stand in front of him. “I wouldn’t say you neglect me. I guess I’m just being selfish…”

“You’re not being selfish at all,” he insisted, standing so his eyes could meet hers. “I have been spending too much time away from you, but I promise to rectify that immediately.” Picking his phone up, he turned it off without even checking the new text.

“What if that was important?”

He pocketed the phone, then cupped her face in his hand, his hooked arm wrapping around her waist. “Nothing is more important than you, Emma. Now, let’s eat dinner and enjoy the rest of our evening together.”

“Hmm, I think I have a better idea.”

“And what is that, pray tell?” he asked, cocking a brow.

“Why don’t you show me some of those more enjoyable activities that you prefer to do with a woman on her back?” she smirked.

He grinned wickedly. “Fair warning, Swan. When I jab you with my sword, you’ll feel it.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it, Captain,” she said, then took off running toward the stairs. Killian was hot in pursuit, all thoughts of other Storybrooke residents besides Emma Swan-Jones driven completely from his mind.

*********

I hope this put a smile on your face!

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Killian had expected the mausoleum to be locked. Affluent family gravesights often were, as a way to ward off theft and vandalism. What he had not anticipated was the style and intricacy of said lock.

Crouching in front of the iron door, Killian cursed as he fiddled with the mechanism. “Bloody tumblers won’t budge. It’s as though they’re secured by magic.”

“We’ve no evidence that Cora was a witch,” Liam replied without a hint of sarcasm, his gaze scanning the area for any signs of interruption.

“I didn’t mean literally, brother,” Killian said with an eyeroll, then muttered, “Though, I wouldn’t have put it past her.”

A soft giggle pulled his attention upward to where Swan was standing over him, holding the flashlight. As it was prone to do, his body instantly reacted; his breath catching and his heart palpitating as a warm flush of desire and affection spread through him. Seeing her, bathed in moonlight amongst the headstones, transported him back to the night they met, here in this very cemetery.

What he wouldn’t give to go back and do things differently. He’d been such a fool and desperately hoped--now that everything was out in the open between them--that she’d give him a second chance. A tall order, considering she was currently romantically involved and living with another man. Even if he found said man to be lacking in a number of ways and nowhere near deserving of someone the caliber of Emma Swan.

Although, some might question whether he was any more deserving himself, given how he’d squandered his chance with her when he’d had it, regardless of how noble he thought his reasons were at the time.

“Want me to give it a try?” Emma asked, crouching down beside him. Her breath against his cheek caused a shiver to run down his spine, compromising his balance and landing him on his backside with an audible oomph.

“Shhh,” Liam hissed. “Someone’s coming.”

His brother hid behind a tall grave marker as the beam of a flashlight swept across the headstones. Grabbing Killian by the lapels of his jacket, Swan pulled him back towards the cover of the mausoleum’s shadow, the two of them tangled together as they sat pressed against the structure and one another.

The roar of his blood thundered in his ears as he held his breath, his focus torn between trying not to be discovered by who he assumed was one of the officers on patrol and the feel of Emma wrapped in his arms as she practically straddled his lap. It felt like an eternity before the coast became clear once more, but Killian made no effort to extricate himself from his current position. Leaning back to glance around the side of the mausoleum, Emma’s hips shifted over his groin and he was helpless to stop his body from responding, or the aching whimper from falling off his lips.

The startled swiftness with which she straightened back up, eyes wide and lips slightly parted told him his affliction had not gone unnoticed. The two of them held the other’s gaze for a long moment, and when her eyes dipped down to his lips, his followed suit. Their breathing shallowed, exhales mingling in the chilled air that was growing more charged by the second. His fingers gripped her hip a bit tighter, his thumb sliding under the hem of her sweater to the bare skin beneath causing her breath to hitch and her flesh to pebble from his touch. Cautiously, he inched forward, intending to close the gap and claim that perfect mouth of hers, but only if she gave him the slightest hint of consent to do so.

Consent he’d never know if he would have received, thanks to his clueless, meddlesome, infuriating brother.

“That was too close for comfort,” Liam whispered. “I think it best we take our leave and come up with a new plan.”

Emma scrambled off Killian’s lap, forcing another pained sound to escape from the back of his throat. Holding his hands out, Liam assisted them both to standing and waited for their agreement before setting off in the direction of the park.

It wasn’t until they were back in his Chevelle that Emma suggested, “Maybe the groundskeeper has a key to the mausoleum. We could ask Belle to find out. She could use the excuse of needing to update records or wanting to do research for city historical purposes.”

“Perhaps you could also ask Sheriff Humbert if he’d be willing to pull back on the patrols here, although I’m not sure what reason you’d give him,” Liam offered from the backseat, having graciously insisted that Swan ride shotgun, which Killian knew had been his brother’s way of torturing him. The git.

Emma smirked and stated, “If I have Ruby ask him he won’t need a reason.”

Liam chuckled. “Aye. The lass does seem to have your sheriff wrapped around her finger.”

“Among other parts of herself, I dare say,” Killian quipped, earning him a chortle from Swan and a slap at the back of his head from his brother. “Oi! Bad form to assault the driver whilst the vehicle is in motion!”

“Bad form to make such remarks about our host’s friend.”

“I assure you, I was only stating what Emma was already thinking. Isn’t that right, Swan?”

Glancing towards the passenger seat, Killian was met with a cheeky expression and mischievous glint sparkling from those enticing, green depths he often found himself lost in.

“Actually, I was gonna suggest that Liam talk with Belle about getting us access to the mausoleum, seeing as he wouldn’t mind being wrapped around more than just her finger.”

Killian erupted into laughter and peered at his brother through the rearview mirror. Even in the dim light of passing cars and streetlights he could see his brother’s face turn bright red. Fortunately, it was accompanied by a caught out smile and good-natured chuckle.

“Lass, I fear my brother has been a bad influence on you.”

“No more than I am over him,” she quipped back haughtily, furtively shooting Killian a look that made his pants tighten impossibly more.

He wasn’t sure how he’d ever manage to get out of the car, much less make it up the stairs to the front door. Coming up with some excuse to hang back, Killian remained behind the wheel as Emma and Liam both exited the car.

“I’ll see you both in the morning, then,” Swan replied, heading up the front steps, her tight jeans hugging her arse in a way that solidified the reality that Killian was in for a long, uncomfortable night.

“Everything alright, brother?” Liam asked with a little too much concern in his tone. “Finding it hard to put the day behind you?”

“Piss off,” Killian grummaced, throwing open the car door and stepping out into the cool night air.

“You’re both idiots, you know that right?”

Sighing, Killian conceded, “I’ll admit to you being half right. I’ve only myself to blame.”

Placing a firm hand on Killian’s shoulder, Liam urged, “Just tell her how you feel. Explain what happened after the Wend--”

“I have,” Killian told him. “But it’s not that simple. She’s with someone now. I don’t want to make things more complicated for her, or be the reason things fall apart and cause her more pain.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, brother,” Liam confided. “I have it on good authority that things were rocky between her and Neal long before we got here. If I were a betting man, I’d say their relationship has run its course and it’s only a matter of time before he’s out of the picture completely.”

“And you think I ought to be waiting in the wings, ready to pick up the pieces? A bit opportunistic, don’t you think?”

“I think,” Liam countered in a somber yet affectionate tone, “you should give yourself permission to fight for what you want. Give yourself permission to be happy. You deserve that as much as anyone else, little brother.”

Killian swallowed past the tightness in his throat and gave his brother a nod of understanding before following him inside, muttering younger as they entered the carriage house.

~/~

Consciousness came slowly, lazily, and with little effort. Stretching out the few kinks peppering her body, Emma could not remember the last time she’d slept so well. Allowing herself a few more moments of comfort, she hugged the pillow beside her and sighed into its softness. The smell of her laundry detergent and the lavender scented dryer sheets filled her sinuses and a contented smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

After they’d returned home from the cemetery, Emma had made her way upstairs and surveyed her room. Her room. No physical sign of Neal remained; a fact that had enveloped her in a blanket of relief. She’d wasted no time stripping the bed, replacing the sheets she’d last shared with him with fresh ones from the linen closet.

From the depths of her dresser drawer she’d pulled out the raggedy t-shirt she’d almost always worn to bed before Neal had become a frequent overnight fixture. The one he’d mocked incessantly until she finally replaced it with a cami or some other barely there pajama top. The soft, worn fabric felt like the embrace of an old friend on her skin, welcoming her back with comfort and ease.

Out of habit, she’d pulled back the blankets on what had been her side for the past couple months, but then stopped herself. She’d only started sleeping on that side, the one closest to the door, because Neal had preferred the other. The one closer to the bathroom, so he wouldn’t have to go too far if he awoke in the middle of the night, ensuring he’d get back to sleep quickly. Nevermind the fact he was never quiet about it and often woke her up in the process.

She supposed she could sleep on whichever side she chose now. Hell, she could take up the entire bed if she wanted. Smiling, she’d climbed onto the mattress and slid beneath the covers smack dab in the middle of the bed. Nestled beneath the weight of the extra blankets--Neal had always wanted it as cold as possible when he slept, despite her desire to stay warm and cozy--Emma had drifted off perfectly content.

Well, almost perfectly content.

There was that small pang of disappointment that it was a stack of quilts and not Killian’s body pressing her into the mattress before sleep fully claimed her. She’d be lying if she said it had only been a fleeting thought. Her dreams of him had been anything but fleeting.

Reluctantly, Emma rolled over and reached for her phone. Unplugging it from the charger, she did a double take when she read the time.

1:16 PM

“Holy shit!” Shooting up, she struggled to detangle herself from the blankets. Grabbing a pair of nearby leggings, Emma hopped towards the door on alternating legs as she struggled to put them on. A glance towards the guest room showed it to be empty, and after making her way down the stairs, another look into the study revealed the same. Turning into the kitchen, she stopped short at the sight of a shirtless Killian Jones, hair sticking up at odd angles with pajama pants perched precariously low on his hips, filling a cup of coffee.

“Morning, love,” he offered in a rough, gravelly voice before bringing the steaming mug to his lips. After a quick, testing swallow he turned towards her fully, his eyes taking her in over the brim as he took another sip. Tonguing an errant drop from the corner of his mouth, he smirked and said, “Nice shirt.”

Glancing down at herself, Emma remembered which shirt she’d put on the night before… and where it had come from in the first place.

“You’ve been taking good care of it, I see.” Before Emma could respond, Killian grabbed another cup from the cabinet and asked, “Coffee?”

“Uh, y-yeah,” she stammered. “Please.”

By the time he’d poured and handed her the beverage, she managed to pull herself together.

Sort of.

“Guess I’m not the only one who overslept?”

Scratching his fingers through his hair, Killian followed her to the living room, a yawn escaping him as he replied, “Seems so.”

Sinking down on opposite ends of her couch, they both took a drink and waited for the coffee to do its thing. Or for the other one to break the ice. Emma wasn’t quite sure which.

“Have you seen Liam?” she asked, tucking her feet beneath her and wrapping her hands around the warm ceramic. For all its comfort and charm, the carriage house still had issues with letting in the morning chill.

Killian pulled an afghan off the back of the chair next to him and handed it to her. “Aye. Briefly.” He helped her spread out the blanket so she wouldn’t have to put her mug down, then added, “He woke me up about half an hour ago. Said he was going to meet Belle at the library and ask her about that key.”

Emma nodded and brought the cup up to her lips, murmuring against the edge, “I’ll call Ruby and see if she can work her magic on Graham.”

Setting her coffee down, Emma took her phone out of the side pocket of her leggings. She was scrolling through her contacts when Killian asked, “How’s Neal this morning? Haven’t seen him since yesterday’s unfortunate event.”

Sucking in her bottom lip, Emma warred with herself before confessing, “He’s, uh… He’s gone.”

“Gone to work?” Killian replied. “I would have thought he’d call out, but I suppose I can’t blame him for wanting to get out of the house for a bit.”

Emma opened her mouth to correct him, but was cut off by an incoming call. She didn’t recognize the number which normally would mean she wouldn’t answer. This time, however, she’d risk a telemarketer in order to have a reprieve from the current topic of conversation.

“Hello?”

“Miss Swan?” inquired a male voice on the other end of the line.

“This is she.”

“Miss Swan, this is Robin Locksley. We met briefly at Regina Mills’ house yesterday?”

Sitting up straighter, she waved at Killian to get his attention (which she already had) and took the phone away from her ear, putting it on speaker. “Yes, Mr. Locksley, I remember.”

Killian scooted closer and the two of them hovered over the phone as the man replied, “Oh, call me Robin. Please.”

“Robin,” Emma repeated. “What can I do for you?”

“I’ve had a talk with Miss Mills… Regina, and she wonders if you’d mind her and I coming to the carriage house so we can all talk some more about… you know.”

“Of course!”

“Terrific. We can head that way in about an hour and be there around four?”

“We’ll be here.”

Killian leaned in so his voice would be picked up clearly, and said, “Robin, mate. It’s Killian. May I ask… What made Regina change her mind?”

Silence echoed over the line to the point that Emma wondered if Robin had ended the call before Killian spoke. The clearing of a throat attested otherwise.

“I’d prefer to have that conversation in person… if you don’t mind.”

Emma shared a bemused look with Killian who haltingly replied, “Sure thing, mate.”

A heavy sigh crackled over the phone. “Thanks. We’ll see you both soon.”

“Aye. Safe travels.”

“See you soon.”

Ending the call, they both sat back into the cushions, dumbfounded over this sudden turn of events. Now that Emma had a chance to process it, a series of concerns ran through her mind.

“You seem vexed, love. Unexpected as it may be, this is a good thing.”

“I know,” Emma said, worrying her lip. “It’s just…”

“Just what?”

Turning her body, Emma looked up at Killian, momentarily distracted by his chest, and whispered, “Is it really a good idea for her to come here? What about… you-know-who? We won’t have a chance to… you know, until after dark. Won’t Regina being here to find closure with Daniel amp Cora up?”

“Probably,” Killian responded nonchalantly, draping his arm over the back of the couch. “Unless we create a warded area that will keep her from interfering.”

Cocking her head to one side, Emma stared at him with a dubious expression and muttered, “How, exactly, do we do that?”

Shooting her a cocky grin and lifted brow, he crooned, “Leave that to me, love. Leave that to me.”

Emma snorted at his ridiculousness and was once again sidetracked by her phone. “It’s Ruby,” she said, putting her friend on speaker. “Hey, Rubes. I was just about to call you.”

“Too late,” Ruby said. “Belle got me first. I just talked with Graham.”

She shared yet another glance with Killian. They both should have known Liam wouldn’t waste time putting things in motion.

“And?” Emma prompted. “What did he say?”

“He said the best he could do was give you an hour of no patrols at shift change.”

“That’s it?”

“I’m afraid so,” Ruby replied. “He said, and I quote, ‘the mayor will have my guts for garters if he finds out I suspended patrols this close to Halloween.’ I mean honestly… who talks like that?”

Emma nearly laughed out loud at the affronted look on the face of the man she knew full well said things just like that.

“Sorry I couldn’t do better.”

“You did plenty, Rubes,” Emma assured her. “Do me a favor and let Belle know so she can tell Liam?”

“Will do,” Ruby replied, and Emma could almost hear the shift in her friend’s demeanor before she sultrily inquired, “So… how’s it going with Mr. Hot Cemetery Makeout Guy? You buy a ticket on that ride yet?”

“Ruby!” Emma exclaimed as Killian choked on the last bit of coffee he was polishing off and erupted into a fit of coughs.

“Oh, shit! He’s right there, isn’t he?”

“I have to let you go.” Without waiting for a response, Emma hung up and got up from the couch. “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

His hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her, and he managed to croak out, “It’s fine, Swan. No need.” With one last cough, he cleared his throat then swallowed hard against the tight knot that had formed there. “See? Right as rain.”

“I’m sorry about Ruby, she’s…”

“No need to apologize,” he said, and it seemed to Emma that he was suddenly hyper aware of the fact that he was only half dressed. Releasing her wrist, he stood and headed towards the hallway. “I should get myself dressed. Robin and Regina will be here soon, and we need to…”

“Right,” Emma agreed, feeling a bit self-conscious about her own appearance. The thin material of her shirt likely left little to the imagination, especially since she wasn’t wearing a bra, to say nothing about the painted-on quality of her leggings. “I need to shower and get ready.”

Her face went red at the mention of a shower, and the traitorous thought of asking him to join her. Fortunately, Killian spoke again before her tongue could betray her.

“I’ll check-in with Liam and let him know of Regina’s impending arrival. Take your time. I’ll take care of getting things ready.”

As much as Emma wanted to question him about what that might entail, her instinct to run whenever things got emotionally overwhelming took over. Though she’d spent years trying to overcome the reaction and the root of its cause, it still reared its ugly head from time to time. Usually, she would berate herself when it did, but this time she was glad for it.

Racing up the stairs, she entered her room and firmly closed the door behind her. Shedding her clothes, it wasn’t until she was under the spray of the shower--the dial turned to a much colder temperature than usual--that Emma allowed herself to face the truth of why she’d run from him just now.

Because if she hadn’t, she would have done as Ruby suggested, and having Regina Mills show up as she was riding Killian probably wasn’t the best way to help the woman get closure.

~/~

It was much later than four before Robin and Regina arrived. Still struggling with doubt and a whole host of other emotions, Miss Mills had apparently insisted the two stop several times along the way. At one point, Robin had called to inform them of their updated estimated time of arrival, which would be cutting it close to the window of opportunity they had to enter the mausoleum. Knowing Emma would need one of the brothers there for support and assistance with helping Daniel move on, it was decided that Killian would stay behind while Liam and Belle - who was the one securing the key from the groundskeeper later that evening - would deal with Cora’s resting place.

When Robin and Regina finally arrived, the former extended heart-felt apologies while the latter coolly offered a ‘sorry I’m late’ before strolling into the structure she likely had not set foot in for many years, possibly decades. Emma welcomed them both, her nerves taking over and causing her to overshare about the remodel as Regina perused her surroundings. It wasn’t until Killian invited them all to have a seat in the living room, offering beverages that might make the situation a little less tense that everyone began to relax and soften.

“I must say,” Regina stated, accepting the offered libation being handed to her, “you have done a remarkable job here. Everything looks impeccably finished yet it feels so homey.”

“Thank you.” Swan took a swallow of her own drink, obviously allowing herself time to formulate a more in-depth response.

Killian, however, did not wish to waste time on small talk. “If you don’t mind my asking,” he began, cradling his tumbler in his hands as he leaned forward with his elbows resting on the tops of his thighs, “what changed your mind about coming here? You did not seem very keen on the idea when we left you, and given the amount of stops you made along the way, it seems you may not yet be completely at ease with the decision to be here.”

“Yes, well…” Regina took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly before continuing. “You’re right. When you and Miss Swan left, I thought you were either some sort of conman team set out to swindle me, or completely insane.” Glancing over to the man seated beside her on the sofa, she added, “But after you were gone, Robin sought me out to check on me, and after I told him what you had said, he…”

Hesitantly, Robin reached over and took Regina’s hand, picking up on her distress before it became apparent to either Emma or Killian.

“I asked Regina whether she was willing to take the chance on you not being crazy and missing out on the opportunity to heal a long held wound.” Shifting in his seat, Robin met Killian’s eye and said, “I have some experience with unrestful spirits. My wife, Marion, visited me after her death.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Aye, mate,” Killian replied, echoing Emma’s sentiment. “Our condolences.”

“Thank you.”

Robin gave them both an appreciative nod then shared the story of his wife’s passing. Her death had been sudden and tragic; a fire had broken out at her workplace and due to several fire code violations, she and several of her co-workers had perished in the blaze. Robin had been out of town for work in a rather remote area and had not spoken to his wife for several days, only communicating via e-mail. When he was notified of what happened, he’d been told she was identified by dental records and there was no need for him to identify the body. In fact, he was encouraged not to, being told he would not wish to remember her that way.

“Of course, I said good-bye to her at the funeral, but…” Swallowing past the lump that had formed in his throat, Robin looked up at the ceiling in an attempt to quell the tears pooling in his eyes. “It felt so empty. I remember being tortured by the fact that I couldn’t even remember the last thing I ever said to her. Had I told her I loved her? Had I made her feel missed? Or had I been short and flippant because I was busy?”

Taking a fortifying drink, he gave himself a moment before clearing his throat to continue. “It was about a month after her death that I started to… experience things.”

“What sort of things?”

“The smell of her perfume, an indentation on her pillow, the feeling of her presence, and what I thought to be the occasional glimpse of her in the corner of my eye. I thought I was going mad, and I confided in one of my mates, Will.”

“And did this Will believe you?”

Robin let out a light chuckle. “Not only did he believe me, he dragged my arse to a psychic medium he knew.”

“You went to a psychic?” Emma inquired, fascinated. “Who?”

“A woman by the name of Zelena,” Robin told her. Killian filed the name away in the back of his mind and encouraged the man to tell them more about the meeting with her. “She backed up all my experiences. Said that those who die suddenly or violently often have difficulty moving on due to having unfinished business. She, uh… she helped me get closure. She helped me say a proper good-bye.”

Killian did not wish to offend the man, but he had to ask. “And you are certain she was… legit?”

To his relief, Robin smiled at the question. “Regina said the same thing.”

“I did,” Miss Mills said, sheepishly. “And I’m still not sure I believe in ghosts, or psychics, or any of this,” she said, gesturing vaguely at the room around them. “But what Robin told me in reply made me at least keep an open mind and be willing to see this through.”

Killian and Emma shared a common look of curiosity before Swan asked, “What did you tell her?”

“I told her,” Robin said, squeezing Regina’s hand. “That even if I had imagined everything that had happened after Marion’s death, and even if Zelena was a total fraud… The closure was real. The peace is real. The firm belief that Marion is in a better place, her unfinished business resolved… that’s real. And it has allowed me to move forward through my grief into a life that is still worth living.”

A long pause hung in the room; Robin and Regina looked fondly at one another while Killian and Emma shared furtive glances. The buzz of Killian’s phone broke the reverie, and he apologized as he pulled the device from his pocket.

Key acquired. Headed to the cemetery. The text from Liam read. Putting the phone back in his pocket, Killian turned his attention back to the couple who was looking at him expectantly.

“So…” Regina drew out, hesitantly. “What now?”

“Now,” Killian replied, getting to his feet. “We get you and Daniel the same closure.”

Part Seven - Coming Soon!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So beside the overgrown hedge it was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I heard that, Charming.” Whale growled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They took him by surprise, using a clever ruse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The impact triggered him to take a deep breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And desire.

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

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

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

Drake was taken by surprise at the sight before him.

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

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

Was…. Was she enjoying it?

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

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

But the question was, how?

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

Story 1:

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

Story 2:

A Study in Scones

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

Story 3:

Try Something New

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

Story 4:

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

Story 5:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then she saw the mermaid.

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

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

He was a merman.

Hook.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, I am a pirate.”

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

“You also seem to be a merman?”

“I do like the water.”

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

And he was wearing clothes?

“What’s with the shirt?” she asked.

“The chlorine is harsh on my skin.”

“And why are you even here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t remind me.”

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

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

“Would you like to join me, Swan?”

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

“Not tonight.”

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

“Perhaps another night then,” he said seductively.

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

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

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

But that would have to be for another night.

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

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

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

She liked the other way better.

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

Emma knew that could never happen again.

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

She had always believed those who grew up with their real families around the holidays had it better off. They must have - not feeling like an unwanted spare piece thrown into a place it didn’t belong. Getting everything you always wanted - being well off enough to feel joy and comfort and all the warm fuzzies.

In fact, she had woken up just that morning still very ingrained in that belief. She had gone about the day leading up to her foster sister’s new inlaws’ Christmas party feeling all kinds of envious and ill-fitting. Emma was finally going to see how all those all-American families in all the holiday movies lived in real time. 

Only, she hadn’t. What she had witnessed was a narcissistic ass of a father shower praise on his oldest son while dragging his younger son through the proverbial mud. Sling around words like ‘successful’ and ‘ambitious’, and ‘lazy’ and ‘rudderless’.

It had been a shock to her system, to say the least. Because if there was one thing Emma Swan had always known about Killian Jones, it was that the man knew what he wanted in life. His confidence and his drive had come off as quite arrogant and aggravating at first, in fact. She had wanted to hate him because of it - that and his obvious privilege. The son of a wealthy businessman and certainly not lacking in charm and self-assurance, there was nothing in the world that could shake Killian. 

Nothing, it seemed, except his own father. 

Emma had never seen him look so ashamed of himself as Brennan Jones continued to boast on and on about Liam’s achievements before and since marrying Elsa. It was all she could do not to rush across the room and punch the pompous jerk’s nose straight through the back of his skull. In order to keep her hands to herself and not cause any kind of scene, she had kept a close eye on Killian. When he had slowly begun to back out of the room and make his way towards the side door that led to the expansive back porch, she had soon followed. 

He had looked so small and lost, sitting with his knees tucked up to his chest as he stared absently out into the Christmas-light covered shrubbery. 

“How long has it been like this?” She had asked softly after sitting quietly next to him for a while. 

“As long as I can remember.”

Killian had confessed to her that it was always worse during the holidays. That the expectations of his father had always been so exceedingly high, and that the reputation of the family had always been the most important thing. He’d never been able to live up to any of it. Even as a kid.

“I’ve always fallen quite short. Though I’m sure that doesn’t surprise you, Swan.”

She had shoved at him in mock indignation. It was true, they’d had a rocky start to their friendship. Emma had always considered them like oil and water - didn’t mix well at all. But ever since Elsa and Liam had announced their engagement a year and a half prior, she had felt herself getting closer and closer to her sister’s fiance’s little brother. 

It was what had prompted her to suddenly ask Killian if he’d wanted to get out of there. That she had everything needed to whip up some chocolate chip cookies and maybe they could find some Christmas movies on tv or something. 

Which was how she now found herself staring at him in the blinking green and red lights, wondering how anybody could look at him and see disappointment. It had been somewhere between him accidentally flinging flour around her kitchen with the hand mixer and her slipping on some egg she’d dropped on the floor that Emma realized…

She loved him. 

It hadn’t hurt that he had caught her as she fell, their lips mere inches from each other as he softly asked if she was okay. She had snorted and brushed flour along his cheek as she climbed out of his arms, but not before she’d caught the flash of that familiar kind of feeling in his gaze. 

“Something wrong with my face?” 

Emma jumped slightly as she realized she’d been caught up in the moment from earlier in her kitchen. She blinked back into focus and saw Killian watching her with a lazy, sleepy smile. His blue eyes sparkled from behind white Santa fuzz and half-closed lids. 

“Oh yeah,” Emma nodded solemnly and got a curious eyebrow raised at her in return. “It’s smothered in chocolate, you slob.”

His smile grew and she got a two-eyebrow wiggle this time. “I mean, if you wanted to help me clean myself up…” His finger came up and tapped at his lips.

Emma knew he was teasing. That Killian was just trying to make light of the obvious, yet not completely uncomfortable, tension that had been hovering around them… well, for quite some time. 

And yet, she couldn’t stop herself from leaning forward and pressing her lips tightly to his. He hummed in mild surprise before his hand came up and curled around the side of her neck, his fingers brushing up into her hair. With his other hand on her hip, he helped her find a comfortable position straddling his lap. 

Emma tried the best she could to convey all her feelings into the kiss. To let him know that he didn’t, in fact, fall short in all that he did. Not even a little bit. 

Killian seemed to get the message well enough because, when Emma pulled back from him after some time, he looked dazed but happy. 

“Swan, that was…”

“I know.” She pressed her forehead to his, bringing her own hand up to play with his hair much like he was still doing with hers. “Now how about we make some more new traditions together… snuggle up like two birds of a feather or… however the hell it goes?”