#csss 2025

Killian walked along the sidewalk, rapidly approaching the house he shared with Emma - their home. Having just received David’s blessing to ask Emma to marry him, Killian hoped that soon, they would be living there as husband and wife. As he walked, he held the little black leather box containing the diamond ring in his hand, contemplating the words he would say to propose.

Hearing a rumbling behind him, he turned to see the wooden man child pulling up on his motorcycle. Emma might have assured him that August was only a friend, but Killian still wasn’t sure what to think of him. He tucked the box into his jacket pocket and turned to see what the man wanted.

“Hey there,” August said, turning the noisy machine off. “I’m glad I found you.”

“Are you?” Killian replied.

Without answering, August pulled some papers out from inside his leather jacket.

“What are those?” Killian asked.

“I found the pages of my story I ripped out of the book,” August explained. “There’s nothing in here I didn’t already tell you but…I figured David might like to have it for himself.”

“Great, I’ll pass them along,” Killian said, reaching to take the papers from him.

August then started the motorcycle and rode away. As Killian turned up the sidewalk toward the house, he unfolded the pages to look at them. The one on top showed the illustration of Pinocchio on Pleasure Island, talking to a man who had to be David’s father. As soon as Killian saw the picture, memories flooded his mind, causing his heart to race and a weight as heavy as a stone to drop into his stomach. He recognized the man in the picture.

He had killed that man.

“Hey!” Emma’s voice cut through his morbid thoughts. “There you are,” she said, bounding down the steps.

He quickly refolded the papers and tucked them in the back pocket of his jeans.

She hurried to him, tugging lightly on the lapels of his jacket. “We just got back. I missed you. I’m making my specialty - microwave popcorn with Milk Duds mixed in to get all melty.”

“Sounds…uh, wonderful,” he said with a slight grimace, causing her to giggle. “Um, I’ll be in in just a minute.”

“Okay,” she said, before kissing him and going back into the house, closing the door behind her.

Killian pulled the jeweler’s box from his pocket, opening it to reveal the diamond engagement ring. How could he possibly ask Emma to marry him now, knowing that he killed her grandfather?

*********

Killian was seated at the counter in Granny’s the next morning, picking at his eggs, while his coffee grew cold. He managed to make it through last night without Emma detecting that something was amiss. He even indulged in her sweet, messy ‘specialty’, pretending to like it as they snuggled on the sofa, watching one of those moving pictures she enjoyed. He honestly couldn’t recall a single detail of it, because his mind was completely preoccupied with his dilemma.

He barely slept and what little sleep he did get was troubled with nightmares of him running a sword through not only David’s father, but every member of Emma’s family, including Emma herself.

“Something wrong, Captain Serious?” Ruby quipped, rousing him from his musings.

He glanced up. “Just, uh, not very hungry this morning.”

She leaned her elbows on the counter to look at him eye to eye, a mischievous twinkle in hers. “I’m sure your other appetite is getting satisfied at home, am I right?”

“Ruby!” Granny scolded from the kitchen. “Stop harassing the customers and get back to work!”

“I really hate her wolf hearing,” Ruby grumbled. “Want me to warm up your coffee? It looks to me like you could use some extra caffeine.”

Killian nodded. “Aye. Thank you.”

The bell above the door jingled. Ruby finished filling Killian’s cup, looked up to see who came in and smiled. “Good morning, Snow! How’s my bestie today?”

Killian’s shoulders hunched at the knowledge that Emma’s mother just entered the diner.

“I’m fine, Ruby,” Mary Margaret chirped. “How are you?”

“Can’t complain. If I did, Granny would jump down my throat.”

“Ruby!” her grandmother boomed. “Get over here and pick up Dr. Hopper’s order before it gets cold!”

Mary Margaret giggled as Ruby rolled her eyes, before turning to do as she was told.

Killian kept his head down, hoping Mary Margaret wouldn’t notice him, but had no such luck.

“Good morning, Killian,” she said, sliding onto the stool beside him. “I’m glad to see you.”

“You are?”

“Of course.” She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. “David told me about the talk he had with you last night.”

“Oh,” he said simply.

Mary Margaret frowned. “Don’t worry that I’ll tell Emma before you have a chance to ask her. Despite what you’ve heard, I am able to keep a secret. You have to remember that I was ten when I told Regina’s and I was being manipulated by Cora, the master manipulator.”

“Aye, that she was,” Killian agreed. He took a sip of coffee, then set the cup back down, carefully avoiding looking at her.

“Killian? Is something wrong?” she quietly asked with concern, laying her hand on his arm. “Emma didn’t…didn’t turn you down, did she?”

He flicked his eyes toward her. “No, nothing like that. I haven’t asked her yet.”

“Are you waiting for the perfect time?”

He sighed. “I’m not sure there will be a perfect time.”

Mary Margaret ducked her head to catch his downturned eyes. “Of course there will. Emma loves you.”

“I don’t deserve her,” he mumbled miserably.

Several seconds of silence followed his admission. Then he felt a tug on his sleeve. “Let’s go somewhere private to talk.”

Killian gave a slight nod and pulled out his wallet to pay for his meal, before following Mary Margaret out the door. When they reached the sidewalk, she said, “David is home with the baby this morning. Is it okay if we go to your house?”

“Aye. Emma is at work and Henry is at the library, working on a school project with Belle.”

They didn’t speak as they walked. Killian’s mind churned with possibilities of what he was going to say once they were inside the house. He simply didn’t know how to explain what he had done.

They reached the house and went up the front steps. Killian unlocked the door, gesturing for Mary Margaret to enter ahead of him. After closing the door behind himself, he followed her into the kitchen and sat at the table across from her.

“Now, why did you say you don’t deserve Emma?” she asked.

He swallowed hard, willing himself to speak past the lump in his throat. “I…I’ve done some terrible things in my life.”

“That’s all in the past, Killian,” Mary Margaret said firmly. “We all know how much you have changed. You’re a good man now, and that’s what matters.”

“I wish it was that simple,” he mumbled.

“What do you mean?”

He scrubbed a hand over his face, then got up and paced back and forth across the floor a couple of times. Making the decision to come clean, he said, “I’ll be right back.” He left the kitchen and trudged up the stairs to his and Emma’s bedroom. Reaching up on a high shelf in the closet, he took down the small treasure box he had brought from his ship. Opening the lid, he removed the pages of the story book, his eyes landing on the black leather jeweler’s box which was beneath them. He sighed, closed the lid, and returned the box to the shelf.

He went down the stairs and back into the kitchen, resuming his seat across from where Mary Margaret still sat. Unfolding the pages, he laid them on the table, turning them so she could see. “August came by last night and gave these to me. They’re the missing pages of his story from Henry’s book. He thought Dave would like to have them. This man,” he said, pointing to the picture on the top page, “is David’s father.”

“Oh,” she said, leaning in to study it more closely. “I’ve never seen a picture of him.”

Killian took a deep breath. “As soon as I saw that picture, I realized I met him.”

Mary Margaret’s eyes shot up to look at him. “You knew David’s father?”

“I didn’t really know him. I, um…I killed him.”

“What? No! King George’s men murdered him! He admitted it to David.”

“George’s men had him tied to the wagon, preparing to kill him, when my men and I came along. I killed the king’s men, then because David’s father saw what I did, I felt I had to kill him, too.” His head dropped in shame. “I…I don’t know how I’m going to tell David…or Emma. They will never forgive me.”

He felt her hand cover his. “Oh, Killian.”

He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. “I told you I’ve done terrible things. My crimes are coming back to haunt me and now I’m going to lose everything. To think I was going to propose to Emma last night. I guess it really is true that villains don’t get happy endings.”

“You’re not a villain anymore,” Mary Margaret said with determination. “And don’t jump to conclusions. You may be surprised how forgiving people can be.” When he didn’t respond, she went on. “You do remember that I was responsible for Cora’s death, yet eventually, Regina forgave me.”

“That isn’t the same. At one time, the Evil Queen made a deal with me to kill her mother, and Cora was far from an innocent victim. David’s father just wanted to get home to his family, but I took his life anyway.”

She was quiet for several moments, before beginning hesitantly, “Have you…have you considered not telling them? They already think King George…”

He shook his head. “I can’t keep this from Emma. Our relationship is built on trust and honesty and I won’t compromise that. To keep it from David would be dishonest, too.”

“I know,” Mary Margaret sighed. “I shouldn’t have even suggested it. I’m sorry.”

“Think nothing of it. I know you’re trying to spare me pain, and I appreciate it.”

“You will think of the right words to say when the time comes. I’m sure it won’t be easy,” she assured him. “But remember this, Killian. It’s going to come as a shock to them. They could respond with anger and say things in the heat of the moment. Just give them time and space afterwards to process it, and don’t give up hope, okay?”

He attempted to smile. “I’ll try. Thank you, Milady.”

She patted his hand. “It’s the least I can do for my future son-in-law.”

*********

The wait for Emma to come home seemed interminable. Killian spent nearly every minute of it trying to figure out how he was going to tell her what he had done. For a man who was usually so good with words, he hadn’t the slightest idea what to say.

When she finally walked through the door, he went to meet her, greeting her beaming smile with a forced one of his own. She kissed him, then shed her coat, hat and gloves, tossing them carelessly on a bench. Linking her arm through his, she began pulling him into the living room. “I just talked to Henry. I ran into him on his way to Regina’s.”

He didn’t respond and Emma turned on the spot, looking at him intuitively. “Killian? Are you okay?”

He scratched behind his ear nervously, before trying to divert the conversation. “What, uh…what would you like for dinner, Love?”

She eyed him suspiciously. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Plastering what he hoped was a convincing smile on his face, he shook his head. “Nothing. Everything is fine.”

“You’re forgetting about my super power again. I can tell something is on your mind,” she stated, her brows drawing together in concern.

Sighing heavily, he conceded. “You’re right. You see, there’s something I need to tell you. It…it’s just that what I have to say isn’t exactly…easy, and I’m not entirely sure how you’re going to react. But I don’t want to have any secrets between us.”

She led him to the sofa and pulled him down to sit beside her. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.” When he kept his head down, she took his hand, saying, “You know I love you. Nothing is going to change that.”

“I hope not,” he mumbled. Taking a deep breath, he raised his eyes to meet hers. “Last night, August came by with some missing pages from Henry’s storybook. They told the tale of Pinocchio’s time on Pleasure Island, where he met David’s father. You’re aware August already told us about that, but he thought perhaps your father would appreciate having the pages to read them for himself.”

“I thought I heard his motorcycle before I came outside to meet you,” Emma said. “Why didn’t you show me the pages?”

“Because I…I’m too ashamed.” His gaze dropped to where their hands were joined.

“Ashamed? Why would you be ashamed of something August and my grandfather did all those years ago?”

In an anguished voice, he told her of the encounter he’d had with David’s father. He saw the moment the truth slammed into her and wished with all his heart he had never laid eyes on those pages. She pulled her hands out of his grasp and stood, turning her back to him. After taking a few steps away from him, she turned. Her eyes were tightly closed and her chest was heaving, clearly trying to get her emotions under control.

Finally, she managed to push out the words, “So you…you killed my grandfather?”

“Aye,” he whispered.

“Did he do something to you? Did he threaten you or…or try to rob you or something?”

“No. He…he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Yeah, I guess being on the end of your sword was definitely the wrong place,” she stated, and for the first time, he heard anger in her tone.

“I…disposed…of King George’s men first and I couldn’t leave any witnesses,” he admitted somberly.

She stared at him, her mouth agape. “I…have you…have you told my dad?” she managed at last.

“Not yet, but I plan to. I did tell your mother this morning. She saw me at Granny’s and perceived something was wrong, so we came here to talk. I showed her the pages and told her the tale.”

“How did she take it?”

“She didn’t want to believe it at first, but she…she thinks I can be forgiven.”

“Just like that?” Emma shouted. “The man was her future father-in-law and she thinks his murderer can be forgiven so easily? How could you do that to an innocent man? You of all people should understand what it feels like to have someone you love die such a tragic and senseless death!”

She may as well have slapped him. He could feel the blood drain out of his face, his hands beginning to shake. “Swan, I…I’m so sorry. I…”

Turning around, she stalked from the room. “I can’t talk to you right now. I need to get some air.”

Grabbing her coat, she went out the door, slamming it behind her.

Killian dropped his head into his hands, despair washing over him. His greatest fear was being realized. Emma hated him.

*********

Emma walked with purpose to her parents’ loft, driven by anger and confusion. She knew Killian had a violent past, one she was willing to overlook since he had proven to her and all of Storybrooke that he was a changed man. But how could she ever forgive him for taking the life of her own grandfather - a man who did nothing to deserve such a horrible death?

Throwing open the door to the building, she stomped up the stairs and knocked on the door of the loft, not caring if the noise she created woke her little brother from his late afternoon nap.

Mary Margaret opened the door, smiling broadly when she saw who was on the other side. “Emma! What a nice…” She cut herself off with a frown, clearly reading the mood of her daughter. Opening the door wider, she said, “Come in and sit down. You look like you’re in need of one of those heart-to-heart talks we used to have when you lived here.”

Emma stalked to the table and sat down. “I’m sure you have a pretty good idea why I’m here.”

Mary Margaret took a seat, carefully folding her hands on the table. “You talked to Killian, I take it?”

Pushing herself back to her feet, Emma began pacing. “How can you be so calm about this?” she asked, agitatedly waving her hands in the air. “He cold-bloodedly murdered your husband’s father!”

“It was a long time ago, Emma.”

“I don’t care when it happened! A murder is a murder!”

Mary Margaret rose from her seat and approached her daughter, reaching to grasp her biceps. “I know you’re hurt and angry, but you’ve known Killian’s background all along. Pirates engage in unlawful activities…”

“Looting, pillaging, plundering…”

“And at times, murder. You have to remember that Killian has been alive for over two hundred years. Things were different back then.”

“I thought I knew him,” Emma mumbled.

“You do know him,” Mary Margaret said soothingly. “You know the man he is now. He’s changed, Emma. He suffered many tragedies in his life. He was angry and vengeful. He told you himself that he didn’t have any reason to live, but now he does. He loves you, Emma. He’s proven time and time again that he would go to the ends of the world for you.”

Emma could feel her anger beginning to slowly ebb away.

“The man I saw this morning was full of remorse and pain over what he did,” Mary Margaret continued. “He was agonizing over how he was going to tell you and David. I even dared to suggest that he wouldn’t have to tell you at all - that he could just let you go on thinking King George was responsible for Robert’s death. He refused to even consider it. He said he couldn’t keep something like that from you because the two of you trust each other and he doesn’t want to compromise that.”

Shuffling over to the table, Emma slumped back down onto the chair.

Mary Margaret joined her, ducking her head to try to catch Emma’s attention. “I told Killian you may respond with anger, but to give you time to process and not give up hope. He did a horrible thing, but do you really think the Killian you know now would do something like that?”

Emma shook her head. “No, he wouldn’t. And you’re right - he was miserable when he told me. He could barely look at me. He tried to apologize, but I stormed out of the house. I didn’t even give him a chance.”

“He’s afraid he ruined any future he has with you,” Mary Margaret said softly. “Even though I told him to be patient, if I know him at all, he’s probably back at the house you share packing his things to go back to the Jolly Roger.”

Emma immediately looked up. “I never told him I wanted him to leave!”

“Maybe you should go tell him you don’t want him to go. Talk it out with him, Emma. I know you’re hurt and angry - you have every right to be. But I also know how much you love him. The two of you have been through hell together. Literally. Please don’t let this tear you apart.”

Emma stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over her chair in the process. “I better get home.” Leaning down, she embraced her mother. “Thanks for helping me understand, Mom.”

Mary Margaret patted her on the back lovingly. “That’s what mothers are for.”

*********

Emma pondered what her mother said all the way home, her anger melting away as she walked. When she remembered the devastated look on Killian’s face before she stormed out of the house, she was ashamed of herself for not staying and talking things through. Her first tendency when she lost her temper was to run, and she was sure she hurt him when she left.

She was still upset over the fact he killed her grandfather, but her mother was right - he didn’t have anything to live for back then. His family and the woman he loved had all been taken from him and he was filled with hatred. It was a far cry from the man he was now - one who loved deeply and protected the people he cared about at all costs.

Even though they hadn’t spoken marriage vows to one another, the phrase ‘for better or for worse’ kept running through her mind. By the time she reached their house, she knew she had forgiven Killian.

She took the front steps two at a time, and burst through the front door, a bit out of breath. Scanning the living room, she saw he was no longer in there. “Killian!” she called, moving quickly into the kitchen, which was also empty. She sprinted up the stairs and down the hall to their bedroom, heart pounding with both exertion and fear that he wouldn’t be there either. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him bent over something on the bed, his back toward her. His hair looked like he’d been running his hand through it non-stop in agitation. “Killian?”

He turned, his eyes red-rimmed. “Swan?”

She was now able to see that her mother had been right. He had piles of clothes neatly folded and stacked on the bed. “What are you doing?” she asked.

Waving vaguely at the piles, he began to explain, “I figured you probably wouldn’t want to be around me, so I…”

“You were going to leave? Please don’t.”

He looked puzzled. “I thought…”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

“But, you said…”

“I know what I said. I was hurt and angry. I needed time to blow off steam - to process what you told me, just like my mother explained to you.”

“You went to see your mother?”

“Yes. I needed to know how she could be so forgiving. She reminded me that what you did happened a very long time ago, back when you were Captain Hook.”

“I’m still Captain Hook, Love.”

“I know, but you’re also Killian Jones, the man I love. What you did back then was despicable…”

He dropped his head and she moved closer, taking his hand and hook. “But you’re not that man anymore. You’re not filled with rage and a thirst for vengeance. I know you’re sorry for what you did…”

He raised his tear-filled eyes. “I would give anything to undo it, Emma. Truly I would. When…when I saw those pages, I can’t tell you how…disgusted and ashamed I felt. I am so very, very sorry for the grief and hardship I caused your father and his family.”

She wrapped her arms around him, one hand moving to the back of his head, while the other rubbed soothing circles on his back. “Hey, shh, it’s alright. I’m sorry I ran out and made you think I didn’t want you here anymore. I should have stayed and tried to work through my emotions with you. What’s done can’t be undone, but we can move on.” Pulling back, she looked him in the eyes. “Together.”

He managed a weak smile. “Do you think you can ever forgive me, Emma?”

She leaned in, pressing her lips to his, before murmuring against them, “I already have.”

*********

They ordered food to be delivered from Granny’s, enduring Ruby’s insinuations when she brought it, about how they couldn’t even spare time away from the bedroom to cook for themselves. As they ate, they spoke of cheerier subjects, but the elephant was still in the room. They both knew Killian would have to speak to David after dinner. Emma offered to be with him when he did, but he refused. Given David’s rage toward King George when he believed him responsible for his father’s death, Killian didn’t want Emma present to witness his reaction.

When they were finished eating, Killian called David and asked him to come over on his way home from the sheriff’s office, telling him he had the missing pages of the book to give him. He showed them to Emma before she left to go back to the loft to wait with her mother.

“It seems very weird to see a picture of my grandfather as part of Pinocchio’s story,” she commented. Then, looking at the clock, she went on, “I guess I better go. Dad’s shift is over in a few minutes.” She put on her coat then went back into the living room where Killian was walking the floor. “Call when you’re ready for me to come home, okay?”

He nodded, his eyes on the floor. She hugged him tightly. “Just remember that his first response is going to be anger, but he’ll calm down and adjust with time. The two of you have become too good of friends to let this come between you.”

“I hope you’re right, Love.”

“Don’t you know by now I’m always right?” she quipped, giving him a mischievous grin she hoped would lighten the mood.

The feeble smile he gave her didn’t reach his eyes.

She stepped forward and kissed him. “I love you.”

“I’m very happy you still do,” he said. “Please give your mother my thanks for talking to you this afternoon.”

“I will.” Then, giving him one last reassuring smile, she turned and left.

*********

Killian was in the kitchen when he heard the dreaded knock. Steeling his nerves, he walked to the front door.

“Hey, Hook,” David greeted.

“Hello, Mate,” Killian replied.

“Where are the pages?”

“On the kitchen table. Come on in.”

David stepped through the doorway and wiped his feet on the rug, then followed Killian into the kitchen. “Is Emma home?” he asked, peeking into the living room.

“No, she stepped out for a bit. Have a seat,” Killian said, gesturing to a chair as he pulled out his own and sat down.

“Have you popped the question yet?”

“Popped the question?”

“Proposed.”

“Oh. No, I haven’t. I’m still planning when and how to do it.”

David nodded. “Good idea. I’m sure you want it to be special.”

“Aye.” Killian pushed the pages across the table. “August thought you would like to have these, even though he already told us everything they contain.”

David took the papers and examined them carefully, brushing his fingers over the illustration of his father. “It’s just like I remember him,” he said, almost to himself.

Killian swallowed hard. “Dave, I uh…have something to tell you. When I saw that picture, I…I recognized that man.”

David looked up in surprise. “My father? You knew my father?”

“In a sense. I encountered him on the road, evidently on his way home from Pleasure Island. He…he was tied to a cart and King George’s men were preparing to kill him.”

“You were there when he was murdered?” David asked incredulously.

“That’s not the half of it.” Killian paused, swallowing thickly. “He wasn’t killed by those men.”

David’s eyes grew wide and Killian could tell his mind was racing to fill in what he wasn’t saying. “But…if they didn’t kill him, who did?” he asked slowly.

Lifting his eyes, Killian spoke in an anguished voice. “I did.”

A myriad of emotions played across David’s features - shock, confusion, realization, and finally anger. Rising from his chair, he ran both hands through his hair as he stalked back and forth across the floor. Then he stopped and leaned on the table, his eyes boring into Killian. “You murdered my father?” he asked, barely containing his simmering rage.

“Dave, I…”

“YOU MURDERED MY FATHER?”

Killian nodded almost imperceptibly. “Aye,” he said in a strangled voice.

David balled his hands into fists and slammed them on the table. “Tell me how it happened,” he ground out.

“Are you sure you want to…”

“TELL ME HOW IT HAPPENED!”

Killian began haltingly. “I…killed the two men working for the king. Your father…saw me do it. He pleaded with me to let him go - to go back to…to his son, but I couldn’t leave any witnesses. I told him that dead men tell no tales and…”

“And what?” David asked through gritted teeth, tears gathering in his eyes.

“I…I ran him through with my sword.”

David sat heavily in the chair, dropping his forehead to rest on his fists. Killian saw his back rising and falling in short spasms and heard his labored breathing. After several long, agonizing moments, Killian said, “I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am, Dave. I…I’m sure you won’t want me to be part of your family now, so I’ll understand if you want to take back your blessing.”

David’s body stilled, then he slowly lifted his head. “This is a little tough to process,” he said, his voice ragged and hoarse.

“I know. I…”

“Why did you tell me? You could have let me go on thinking it was King George’s men. I wouldn’t have been any the wiser.”

Killian blinked. “I didn’t want to hide the truth from you. If we’re to be family, I want to be open and honest with you. All of you.”

  “Have you told Emma?”

“Aye. And Mary Margaret. They know I’m talking to you right now.”

David pushed to his feet and resumed pacing. “I can’t believe this. I mean, I know you have a past and parts of it are murky to say the least, but to know that you…” He didn’t seem to be able to continue. He came to a standstill, hands on his hips. His face was ashen as he shook his head in disbelief.

Killian slowly rose to his feet, walking around the table to face him. “Dave, I am truly…”

“He wasn’t a perfect father, you know,” David interrupted, as if he hadn’t even heard him. “He had many faults, but I…my mother and I loved him. When he didn’t come back, we…we had a hard time of it. There was never enough money, not even when he was alive. He spent too much of it on ale at the local pub. But after he was gone, we almost lost the farm. We had to work and scrape for everything we had.”

Killian ground his teeth, wishing he could say or do something to take away his friend’s pain.

David looked up at him, tears spilling over and trickling down his cheeks. “Maybe he did do the right thing in the end, like George said, but why didn’t he do that all my life? Weren’t my mother and I worth it? If I had been a better son, maybe he would have been happier and wouldn’t have felt the need to drown his sorrows.”

“None of this is your fault, Mate. His blood is solely on my hands.”

“You may have taken his life, but if you hadn’t, he would have drank himself to death. Every time he left and came back drunk and penniless, he told us it would be the last time, but it was never true. He would try to stay sober for a while, but inevitably gave in to temptation again. I’m not excusing what you did, but you’ve done something my father never could. You’ve changed. Just the fact that you chose to tell me proves you’re no longer the self-serving pirate you used to be.”

Killian blinked rapidly. “What are you saying?’

“I’m saying that you’re not the same man who killed my father. We all see how much you’ve changed. You love Emma, you’re a good father figure to Henry, an upstanding and respected citizen of Storybrooke.” He put his hand on Killian’s shoulder. “And my friend. What you did happened a long time ago. Things were different back then, too. It’s obvious you regret it and…I forgive you.”

The weight Killian had been carrying since laying his eyes on those pages was lifted from his shoulders and he sagged with relief. “Thank you, Dave. If there’s ever anything I can do for you…”

“You can be a good husband to my daughter.”

“She has to say yes, first,” Killian grinned.

“Then you better figure out a way to ask her,” David said, returning the grin. “And do it quick, because my wife is about to burst trying to keep herself from telling Emma.”

*********

Ten minutes after David left, Emma returned home. “Killian?” she called as soon as she came through the door.

He came out of the kitchen to meet her in the foyer. “I’m right here, Love.”

“Are you alright?”

“Aye. Did you talk to your father?”

“No. I left the loft as soon as I got your text. How did everything go?”

“He was furious at first and rightfully so. But as you said, he calmed down after a while. He forgave me and we parted on good terms.”

She threw her arms around him. “I’m very happy to hear that.”

“Aye, Love. It’s a huge relief to have it all out in the open.”

She pulled away and looked at him, reaching up to frame his face with her hands. “I can’t tell you how proud I am of you for choosing to come clean instead of hiding the truth from us. That took a lot of courage, Killian.”

“I don’t know what I would have done if all of you didn’t forgive me.”

“Well, now you don’t have to worry about that,” she smiled, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He let himself drown in her adoring gaze for several moments, before quietly saying, “I’ve been hiding something else from you, Emma.”

A brief flash of uncertainty passed over her face. “Okay,” she said slowly.

“I’ll be right back.” He turned and went up the stairs. Taking the treasure box out of their bedroom closet, he opened it and lifted out the jeweler’s box. Flipping open the lid, he extracted the diamond ring and tucked it into his jacket pocket.

Emma was waiting at the bottom of the steps, a look of concern on her face. Killian descended the stairs and stood in front of her. “Relax, Swan,” he said. “This secret is nothing bad.” He was happy to see the furrow between her brows ease. Sucking in a fortifying breath, he continued. “Last night, I had another talk with your father. I needed to ask him for something.”

“What did you need?”

“His blessing to propose to you.” He sank to one knee, reaching into his pocket for the ring. “So, Emma Swan, what do you say? Will you marry me?”

Her eyes widened as her mouth fell open. She dropped to her knees, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Yes,” she said simply, a radiant smile lighting up her beautiful face.

Killian let out the breath he’d been holding, before kissing her soundly. Then he held up the ring again and she offered him her hand. After sliding the ring in place, he looked into her sparkling eyes, now swimming with joyful tears. “I love you, Emma Swan.”

“I love you, Killian Jones.”

They sealed their engagement with another kiss, then got to their feet. Emma held out her hand, admiring the glittering diamond solitaire. “It’s beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as the woman wearing it.”

She moved into his arms and he closed his eyes, almost unable to believe that she had just agreed to marry him, especially after what he confessed to her.

“It’s been a long, difficult day,” he murmured. “I think it’s time to go to bed.”

She pulled back to look at him. “You want to go to sleep?”

“I didn’t say anything about sleeping, Love,” he said with his trademark smirk. Taking her hand, he kissed her knuckle above the engagement ring, then led her upstairs to their bedroom.

*********

Wishing @i-will-sing-no-requiem and all of you a very Merry Christmas!

Tagging:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4

@hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper

@lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic

@eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426 @julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling

@andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @zaharadessert @lyssapup27

@undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat

@teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90

@apiratewhopines @hollyethecurious @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate

@caught-in-the-filter @stahlop @veryverynotgoodwrites @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite

@whimsicallyenchantedrose @earanemith @superchocovian @idristardis @captainswan-kellie

December 22

“Excuse me,” came a voice behind her, “what do you think you’re doing?”

Emma Swan froze, one hand on the knob of her boss, Regina Mills’ office door, the other holding a hair pin an inch from the lock.

Oh no, oh no!, OH NO!!! This couldn’t be happening to her. She was so getting fired!

Emma slowly turned around, thinking hard for an excuse, any excuse, she could give Sidney Glass, Miss Mills’ personal assistant, for why she was currently trying to break into her boss’s office.

This was all Killian Jones’ fault, and if she went down, she’d be taking him down with her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

1 week ago

Emma Swan liked her job; she really did.  She’d been hired a year ago at the Mills Ad Agency under the direction of the world-famous Regina Mills.  Companies far and wide came to Boston to meet with the advertising mogul to secure her services.  On average, after a Regina Mills campaign, a company saw a 100% jump in profit.

This was the big leagues.  Emma had finally made it.

True, she’d yet to be put on any significant account, but that would come.  In time, one of the big wigs would notice her hard work and dedication and give her the chance to prove herself.

Emma gathered up her briefcase, stepped out of her office and locked the door.  The agency always closed from Christmas to New Year’s, so she had only a week left of work before she was off for the year.

Good thing too!  Christmas had snuck up on her this year.  So much to do to get ready.  Today’s objective: get to the post office before it closed in order to mail a couple of Christmas gifts. 

She was just turning away from her office, when she heard voices–Regina Mills herself, and her nephew and second in command, Killian Jones.

Just the sound of that British accent made her blood boil.  The man was a menace!  As if it wasn’t bad enough that he was an obvious nepo-hire, he seemed to have designated himself as her personal babysitter.  Every time Emma turned around, Killian was there.  Stopping at the water cooler near her desk fifteen times a day (seriously, invest in a water bottle!), humming along to her favorite music, sitting near her in the break room.  He was always around.

It didn’t help that he was hot as all hell.  The fact that her heart rate picked up every time her eyes met his was utterly infuriating.  Oh she knew men like him.  Too sexy for his own good, and knowing it, he flirted with anything in a skirt   Well, anything but her that was.  With her, he did nothing but…hover.

“I think I’ll put the new hire, Emma Swan, on the Nottingham account,” Regina said. “What do you think?”

There was a moment of silence, before Killian responded.  “I…don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said finally.

“Really?” Regina asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.  “She’s been doing good work.  Seems like it’s time to give her a little more responsibility.”

“No,” Killian said firmly.  “She’s not right for the Nottingham account.  Big account like that…no.  We need someone else on it.”

As she listened to the conversation continue, and then move to other topics, Emma’s fury grew, blossomed, nearly erupted. She wasn’t right for the Nottingham account?  She wasn’t ready?  The son of a bitch was actually actively sabotaging her now?  

She was going to kill him.  She was going to drive a stake of holly through his cold already-dead heart.  Where the hell did he get off screwing her over like this? 

She had to get out of here; had to leave before she did something stupid like stomp into her boss’s office and punched Killian Jones in the face.  Repeatedly.

As she stormed to her car and then drove to the post office, her anger grew.  A stake of holly through the heart wasn’t good enough for him. She was fairly certain she wasn’t a violent enough person to think of a torture worthy of his betrayal.

She made it to the post office five minutes before closing time and just barely was able to slap labels on her two packages–one for her best friend Ruby Lucas and the other for her boss–and toss them in the mail chute before a voice came over the loud speaker.  “The post office is now closed.  Please return at nine a.m. tomorrow morning for any future postal needs.”

But as frustrating as overhearing her boss’s nephew sabotaging her was, what happened five days later was worse.  So very, very much worse.

“Hey, Emma, you ready for the Naughty Christmas exchange?” came Ruby’s voice over facetime on the Saturday night before Christmas.

It was a tradition they’d started when they were roommates during their freshman year of college. Every year, they got each other the most over the top, ridiculous, not-safe-for-work Christmas gift they could find, and they always did their exchange the weekend before Christmas.  It was something only Ruby could have dreamed up, but Emma had to admit, it was fun.

After Emma opened her gift–laughing over the thong her friend bought her–complete with Captain Hook’s face stamped across the front, suggestive leer on his face, it was time for Ruby to open hers.

Emma watched, grinning as Ruby pulled the paper from the box with abandon….but her grin faded and then slowly turned to dawning horror, when her friend held the unwrapped box before the camera.

Instead of the sour apple flavored edible underwear with “taste my forbidden fruit” across the butt, Ruby held up an expensive, tasteful box of chocolates.

The chocolates she had intended to give to her boss for Christmas.

Somehow, between the rage at Killian and the hustle and bustle and hurry as she tried to make it in under the wire at the post office, she’d switched her two packages.

And if Ruby got the chocolates, that meant she’d sent Regina Mills….oh no!  This couldn’t be happening!

She’d sent her boss a pair of edible underwear for Christmas.  She was sooooo getting fired.

And so she found herself at the office dark and early Monday morning, a good two hours before anyone else normally arrived, desperately trying to break into her boss’s office and retrieve her mistaken gift

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?”

Emma spun around to face Regina’s oily, sycophantic secretary, mind racing for an excuse that sounded plausible.  “I uh…I wanted to….you see I think I forgot to sign the card I put on my gift for Regina.  I wanted to check and make sure.”

Sidney frowned at her for another moment, before saying something that chilled her to the marrow of her bones.  “You won’t find her gifts there.  Miss Mills has all of her work gifts forwarded to her home in Storybrooke.  It’s her tradition to open them at her annual Christmas Eve party.”

At her Christmas Eve party?

Emma suddenly had visions of a swanky room packed with elegant people watching as Regina Mills opened her gift.  Her stomach dropped to her toes.  Regina wouldn’t just fire her when she opened the gift in front of all her friends and family, she’d kill her.  Conjure a fireball in her hand and incinerate her.

This morning couldn’t get any worse.

“What seems to be the problem?” the bane of her existence asked in his smooth (sexy) accent.  The universe hated her.  That was all there was to it.  It despised her.

“Nothing,” Emma stammered, turning tail and nearly running in the opposite direction.  “Nothing to concern yourself with.”

“Wait!” he called after her, jogging to keep up, finally reaching her and stopping her with a hand to her arm.  “It’s not nothing.  Love, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.  What happened?”

Emma groaned.  She knew that tone in his voice.  He wouldn’t give up without an answer.  Well, might as well get the whole sordid thing out there.  It wasn’t like she could keep it from him anyway.  In a couple days the whole fiasco would be the talk of the office grapevine.

“Your aunt is going to kill me,” she said simply.  “You see, there was a mix up at the post office last week…”  

She went on to lay it all out for him. 

“And so, you see, if she opens that gift at her party, in front of everyone…”

He nodded, his eyes dancing as he valiantly tried to subdue his smile at the ridiculous situation she’d gotten herself into.  “I see your dilemma.”

“Intercepting the gift here was my last hope,” Emma said, defeat heavy in her voice.  “And now….well, now I’m just screwed.”

For a moment, Killian was silent as he scratched at a spot behind his ear.  When he finally spoke, it was the very last thing Emma expected to hear.  “As it happens, I may be able to help you.”

“Really?  How?”

“I attend my aunt’s party every year,” he said.  “Perhaps I can intercept your gift before it reaches her.”

Emma’s eyes widened.  He was offering to help her?  What happened to constantly looking over her shoulder?  Sabotaging her?  “You would do that for me?  What’s the catch?”

There was that ear scratch again.  This time it was accompanied by a blush–an actual blush–that went all the way to his pointy ears.  “I….uh…I need you to come home with me for Christmas, go to Regina’s party as my plus one.”

Emma’s jaw dropped.  “You…you need me to what?”

He wouldn’t look at her now.  “I may have implied to my family that I have a new girlfriend, and they may have gotten the impression I was bringing her home for Christmas this year.”

“And you want me to pretend to be that girlfriend?”

“It would be a win-win,” Killian said.  “You take back your gift before Regina opens it, and I get my family off my back.  We’d head to Storybrooke this evening and then return on the 26th.  At a respectable time after Christmas, we can have a fake break up. What do you say, Swan?”

What did she say?  On the one hand, it would give her a chance to save her job (and her life), but on the other–3 days with Killian Jones?  Pretending to be his girlfriend?  This could be the worst Christmas of her life!

But if she didn’t, there would be no way to intercept the gift.  She did really love her job….and, well, Killian was offering to help her.  She supposed she could put up with him for three days.  It might not even be the end of the world to pretend to be his girlfriend.  What did she really have to lose?

“Fine,” she said on a sigh.  “What time do we leave?”

Emma walked into work on Friday feeling a sense of excitement for the day, and the excitement turned into delight when she walked into her office and found a vase of flowers sitting on her desk. She grinned at the flowers before picking up the note and reading it.

“Happy Friday, my love,” the card read in Killian’s script. Emma smiled and moved the flowers to the corner of her desk so she could get to work. After an hour lost in spreadsheets, a sharp rap on the office door pulled her back to reality. She looked up to see Killian—the exact man she’d been trying to push from her mind.

“Morning, love,” he said cheerfully and set a cup of coffee down on her desk. She smiled and returned his morning gesture, before picking up the cup.

“Coffee?” She questioned, starting to feel slightly upset that it seemed Killian had forgotten her drink order.

“It’s not coffee,” Killian said quickly before Emma could take a sip. “It’s your favorite.” He said sheepishly.

“Hot cocoa?” Emma asked, eyebrows raised in question.

“With whipped cream and cinnamon,” Killian confirmed. That got Killian an extra smile from her.

“Thanks, Killian. I told Henry last night on our way home. It was also the only thing he talked about since the moment I woke him up this morning,” Emma laughed. “He’s ecstatic. Literally told me “I’m so excited to have a real family” over 20 times this morning alone.” Killian’s face broke out into a smile.

“I’m glad to hear it, Swan. But, you and Henry already are a real family.”

“That’s what I said!” Emma said, throwing her hands up in the air for emphasis. “Henry asked if we could have pizza tonight while we packed some of our things.”

“I can bring pizza over and help pack,” Killian offered.

“You? Packing?” Emma questioned, a smirk playing on her lips.

“I know how to pack, Swan. I've done it a time or two.” Killian responds, exasperated.

“Well, I don't know about your packing skills, but coming over with pizza sounds great, Killian.” Emma agreed.

They spent over an hour and a half choreographing Monday’s staff meeting, specifically how they would announce the Gold partnership—and the sham marriage that had secured it. Convincing the entire company they were actually husband and wife was a daunting prospect, but Killian hoped the influx of new funds would help the staff swallow the lie.

-------------cs-------------

“So Swan, what's your ring size?” Killian asks out of the blue on Saturday morning while Emma is packing up some things from their pantry and fridge to bring to Killian's.

“What?” She asks, dropping the boxed macaroni and cheese on the floor while simultaneously whipping her head around to stare at him.

“Your ring size? You said it yourself- there's a lot of logistics if we're to pull this off. If we are playing the part of a married couple, we should have wedding bands.” Killian explained innocently.

“I don't know! I've never needed to know my ring size!” Emma says, getting defensive suddenly. Just having Killian ask about a ring put butterflies in her stomach. Wearing a ring on her left hand is going to make this whole thing feel even more real, which unnerves her.

“Okay, well, how about we go to the jewelers after we drop off the food at my place?”

“The jewelers? Everything costs a fortune there! And we aren't really married! There's no reason to spend a bunch of money on jewelry that isn't real!” Emma said, turning so Killian couldn't see her cheeks heating up. Emma, however, missed Killian's hopeful expression that died when she clarified it wasn't real.

“Well, what are we to do?” Killian asked calmly despite Emma's frantic nature.

“I guess we can go into town later and get cheap rings from like Walmart or another department store or something?” Emma suggested. And so they did. With Henry safely with Mary Margaret and David, they visited a department store to pick out important props for their charade: two fake wedding bands. They spent over an hour selecting decor themed around "family" to make Killian’s stark, imposing house look lived-in. Their preparations were nearly complete when, on the way back to Storybrooke, Killian pulled over at the pier.

“What are you doing?” Emma questioned as Killian got out of the car.

“Don’t you trust me?” Killian asked, opening Emma's car door and holding her hand as they walked out towards the water.

“Of course I trust you,” Emma said. They found a bench by the water’s edge and began mapping out the photos they’d need to stage, print, and frame to complete the domestic facade. In the middle of the conversation, Killian shifted. One moment, he was sitting beside her; the next, he had dropped to one knee on the weathered wood of the pier, looking up at her with a sudden, startling intensity.

“Killian, what?” Emma said, her heart hammering in her chest. Even for a charade, the sight was one Emma never thought she’d see. There was Killian—her former best friend and most enduring crush—kneeling at her feet, blurring the line between their elaborate lie and her deepest, hidden truth.

“Emma Swan, I know we’re doing this for show, a mere play-act for a businessman’s benefit. However, I’d be remiss if I didn't give my fake wife a real proposal. Emma—my former best friend and my most reliable ally—will you make me the happiest man on the planet and fake marry me?” He looked up at her, his expression so earnest it made her breath catch. Tears blurred her vision, the raw emotion of the moment far outweighing the absurdity of the lie.

“Killian Jones, I would love nothing more than to be your fake wife.” She gave him a tearful smile and extended her hand, allowing him to slide the two rings—prop pieces that felt surprisingly heavy—into place on her ring finger.

“It's a perfect fit!” Killian laughed while Emma helped him to his feet. They stood there on the pier, inches apart with Emma in Killian's arms. They smiled softly at one another, before Emma reached up and pecked Killian on the cheek.

“Thanks for my pretend proposal. Now we don't have to completely fabricate our proposal to Gold,” Emma laughed, and pulled Killian back to the car.

By Saturday evening, Henry had picked out his preferred new room at Killian's house, and they had spent the afternoon decorating the room to Henry's specifications. They had moved Henry's toys and bookshelf, and they had put some of his toys and games in the living room. They had also moved over Henry's and Emma's favorite snacks and food into Killian's pantry and fridge, and already the large house was beginning to feel more like a home for the trio. After Emma helped Henry get ready for bed, the hardest and most awkward part of her stay was just beginning: sharing a room with Killian.

After gently closing the door to Henry's new room, Emma crept down the hallway towards the master bedroom. Killian had left the door ajar, and Emma slipped in and closed the door quietly behind her. Killian was in the master bathroom when she entered, and Emma made herself busy by unpacking some clothes from her duffel bags into the closet and open dresser drawers that Killian had cleared out for her. Killian soon made his way out of the bathroom and stood in the doorway, watching Emma organize her clothing.

“Are those drawers plenty of room for now, Swan?” Killian asked. Emma looked up and realized with a jolt that Killian was wearing nothing but sweatpants. She’d seen him shirtless countless times at his pool, but that was before. Now, they were fake-married, and the reality that they were about to share a bed made the familiar sight of him feel dangerously new.

“It’s fine! Really,” Emma said, her voice a little too high. “I’ll need to stop by my apartment tomorrow for my work clothes, but there’s more than enough room in your wardrobe for a few outfits.” Her stomach did a nervous somersault. She was finished with her nighttime routine, and the only thing left to do was climb into bed with him. Killian seemed to be avoiding the subject as well, remaining anchored against the doorframe. Her eyes darted to the small couch in the corner, but it looked pitifully small compared to the sprawling comfort of Killian’s bed.

Years ago—before Liam’s death and before David and Mary Margaret were even married—Killian had hosted a massive party at his estate. Emma had brought Henry, only three at the time, along with a bag of toddler essentials so he could sleep through the festivities. By the time Henry was tucked away, Emma had realized she’d had one too many drinks to drive them home. Killian insisted she stay, and they eventually found themselves in his room, the conversation drifting from the party to something much more personal.

They had both been too far gone for anything scandalous, but when Emma fell asleep mid-sentence, Killian didn't move her. Instead, in his own hazy state, he had climbed in beside her and pulled her close. Emma woke the next morning to the best sleep she’d had since Henry was born, and she was acutely aware of why. Killian was nestled against her back, his nose buried in her blonde hair and his hand intertwined with hers across her torso. They had woken slowly, wrapped in a quiet peace that Emma knew she could never forget, no matter how hard she tried.

Now, staring at that same expanse of mattress, the ghost of that morning felt more vivid than ever.

“I could, uh, sleep on the couch?” Emma offered, unsure of what else to do.

“Nonsense, Swan. This is your home for the next several weeks, and you should be comfortable. I'll be a perfect gentleman, and we'll share the bed. Or, if you're uncomfortable, I can sleep on the couch and you can take the bed yourself.”

“No!” Emma practically shouted. Killian blinked at her sudden abruptness. “I mean, no one should have to sleep on the couch. We're both adults who agreed to be fake married for the sake of both of our futures. We can behave and be completely fine. I'm sure of it.” Emma said.

Killian nodded, rounding the mattress to his side. He slipped under the covers and remained carefully stationary, while Emma busied herself with her phone and the nightstand outlet. She moved slowly, lingering as she slid off the fake wedding band and engagement ring, her mind racing with the impossibility of the situation. How was she supposed to sleep beside her boss—the man she had loved in secret for years?

Finally, she retreated under the blankets, clinging to the edge of the mattress as if the middle were a sheer drop-off. Killian murmured a quiet goodnight before clicking off his lamp, plunging the room into shadow. Emma echoed the sentiment, but sleep wouldn't come. She tried facing away from him, then shifted to her back, but it was useless; the peace of slumber remained out of reach, leaving her alone with her feelings. After what felt like hours of listening to Killian’s own restless tossing and turning, Emma finally gave up and turned her head toward him.

“Killian?” She whispered.

“Aye,” Killian responded, voice more gravelly than normal and laced with sleep.

“Listen, I know we’ve both been through hell since we met, and I know losing Liam was the hardest thing you’ve ever faced. But you can’t push me away anymore—not if we’re going to pull this off with Gold. You can’t keep secrets and hide the big things. You can’t recoil every time I try to check in on you. You have to be honest with me, and I’ll be honest with you. I can’t stand this... this suffocating awkwardness between us.

God, Killian, you were my best friend! I’ve never let anyone in the way I let you in. And then the unthinkable happened, and I tried to be there, but you just shut the door in my face. You suffer in silence, but everyone around you suffers too. Henry and I suffer, too.

We spent months trying to help. I cleaned your house. I changed your dressings. I cooked your dinner and ran your damn business. I don’t want a thank you—I did it for my best friend—but I did expect you to talk to me. I wanted to be here for you the way you’ve always been for me. We promised years ago that it was the two of us against the world. Three, with Henry. We promised the good, the bad, and the ugly. But the second things actually got ugly, you pushed me away. I know you have your pride, Killian Jones, but you have never, ever had to be prideful in front of me.”

“I’m sorry, Swan. For more than you can possibly know,” Killian replied, his voice a low, rough anchor in the dark.

“No, I’m not—ugh, I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty,” Emma said, her frustration softening into something more fragile. “I’m saying it because I can’t do this dance anymore. We need to start over. I want us back to how we were before everything went to hell. I’m not holding the past against you, Killian. I just want my friend back—my real friend. Not just a business partner or someone I have a 'complicated history' with.”

She shifted in the dark, trying to catch his gaze. “We have to leave the wreckage behind us and just move forward. No more guilt. No more walking on eggshells. Just you and me. And Henry.”

“I think I can manage that,” Killian said, his eyes tracing her pale features in the moonlight filtering through the window. “So... how do we start?”

“We start by not sleeping as far apart as humanly possible,” Emma said, meeting his gaze. “Neither of us is going to get any rest like this, and we have a long road ahead of us with Gold. So, we start over by actually getting comfortable.”

“Aye, love,” Killian agreed. He drifted toward the center of the mattress, and Emma mirrored him until the cold gap between them vanished. They lay facing one another, the tension finally beginning to ebb. Emma offered a soft smile and reached out her right hand. Killian met her halfway, his fingers tentatively closing around hers in a silent pact, and he finally smiled back.

“Hi. I’m Emma,” she whispered into the shadows of the room.

“Hello, Emma. I’m Killian,” he replied, his voice barely a breath. They shook hands gently—a simple, grounding touch—before letting go.

With the weight of her words finally gone, Emma felt her body soften into the mattress. She rolled onto her side, turning her back to him, and felt a wave of relief as her mind began to drift.

“Goodnight, Killian,” she murmured.

“Goodnight, Emma.”

Favorite tropes: (I am literally looking at a trope rank-er list LOL) To give you some options depending on what kind of thing appeals to you to write: I'm a sucker for amnesia (fairly evident from my one longfic and my one WIP one-shot hahahaha) and other kinds of miscommunication, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, or humor (which you rarely find in the same fic for obvious reasons hahaha), cute family stuff (Captain Cobra Swan or CS otherwise parenting). Always a big fan of a big reveal moment. Least favorite tropes: Hurt no comfort/anything with an unhappy ending, not big into supernatural stuff (outside the scope of OUaT canon I mean--magic is super fun but I have trouble getting into like, vampires). Also not big into high school AUs. OH and I care too much about most of the characters on this show to be super into bashes.

OOH HARD GAME. I like most of the characters tbh hahaha. CS obviously, Rumple and Regina are cool. Henry's adorbs. Zelena's hilarious. man honestly most of the characters I enjoy a lot. Can't think of anyone I wouldn't want in a fic though actually!! Like I genuinely can't. But I'd also be perfectly happy with a fic that was literally just the two of them :D

Can't draw buddies!!! Dream fic to read is a hard game! If I am dreaming about it I generally uhh.... dream it up fully hahahaha. Whether it ever gets from my brain to AO3? rare as heck. But if it hits the dream phase it gets internally written. So I'm excited to see whatever you come up with!

I'm not like huge on S7 (don't know that I've met anyone who considers it a fave tbh) but I don't mind it! S1 has no CS of course, but I've read plenty of fics that fix that hahahaha

Nope! As long as CS is in it, I'll pretty much read whatever. The only things that actually make me nope out of a fic preemptively are teacher/student AUs and adopted sibling AUs, but that's because like... I'm a former teacher with an adopted sibling HAH

I have never forgiven the show for what they did to Robin or Milah HAH and I always like seeing that fixed, but far from mandatory to squeeze into your fic!

Haha wish that I could give you any direction at all! But I have no ideas :D

Know that I will enjoy whatever you write!! Oh also I guess know that my bookmarks will be... unenlightening. The first time I heard about bookmarks on AO3 it was in the context of people being sad about looking through their bookmarks and seeing fics deleted, and that was too scary so I decided to live in blissful ignorance, even if it meant losing out on bookmarks.

Longer works are great! idk how people fit a complete and satisfying story into a short one shot, but the fact is that they DO do that and I'm always so impressed. So if a short fic is what you have the bandwidth for I will be delighted with that. You might find that my longfic for CSSS 2021 was completed about a month ago, so I am a great example of hubris. I would defs prefer if it was something you could actually complete ever rather than going for length hahaha