#ffcs 2018

Emma’s heart broke a little bit too. She was supposed to feel like she didn’t suck at this mom thing for once. So she bundled Henry up in his waterproof jacket with the flannel lining and put his Spiderman boots on his little feet, and prayed the rain would taper off during the 45 minute drive.

For once, Emma’s prayers to anyone up there who would listen were actually answered because by the time she parked in the open field next to Peter’s Pumpkins and Pies, the rain had stopped. However, their feet still made loud squelching sounds as they walked across the soaked grass, and Emma was glad for the rain boots they both wore. The sky was still gray, and the wind that lashed their faces still held a hint of dampness. It also brought the smell of wet, dirty fur downwind from the petting zoo. Not the most pleasant aroma. Emma would have to make sure Henry didn’t notice the barnyard where they kept the animals. The last things she wanted to do was wade through the mud to pet wet, smelly sheep and goats.

“Two please,” Emma said when she reached the ticket booth.

“That’ll be twenty-four dollars,” the plump, cheery woman behind the counter told her.

Emma’s eyebrows rose to her hairline. “Tw-twenty f-four dollars?” she stuttered incredulously.

“That’s right, tickets are twelve dollars a person,” the woman explained, her smile not wavering in the least at Emma’s reaction.

“But, he’s only three,” Emma said, gesturing down to Henry, “does he get in free?”

The woman peered at Henry over the edge of the booth and shrugged apologetically at Emma. “Only guests two and under are free.”

Emma let out a long breath. “A child’s ticket?” she asked hopefully.

“That is the child’s price,” the woman clarified, pointing to a bright sign decorated in fall leaves that announced: Adult Admission at Child’s Price! This weekend only! “Adult tickets are normally sixteen dollars.”

Emma bit her lip as she fished the money out of her pocket. She had promised Henry, but there went pizza for tonight. She guessed it was bologna sandwiches again.

The good thing about the rain was that the crowd was thin. Emma figured that the weather was a blessing in disguise since the weekend’s special deal usually made it a crowded one. Emma was also relieved to see that the petting zoo was down the hill and out of sight of her enthusiastic three year old. Henry was bouncing up and down and swinging their joined hands back and forth.

“What do you want to do first, Henry?” Emma asked, the sight of her son’s joy causing everything else - the weather, the mud, the smells, and the expensive cost of admission - to be pushed far from her mind. “There’s a corn maze, a story barn, a hay ride … oooh, look you can paint your own little pumpkin!”

Emma was relieved to see that everything, including the mini pumpkins to paint, were included in the price of admission. The only thing they would have to pay for was a large pumpkin to take home and carve and maybe a pie. (Okay, she was definitely getting a pie. If pizza was out, she was at least getting a dessert out of all this.)

The next hay ride wasn’t for another fifteen minutes, so they decided to go the story barn where an enthusiastic teenager in overalls and braids was getting ready to read a picture book to the children gathering around on huge logs. Emma grimaced when they took a seat; the logs had apparently soaked up all the rain. Henry scrambled up to stand on top of the log so he could see better over the gathering crowd.

“Henry care-“ the words had barely left Emma’s mouth when Henry’s left Spiderman boot slid out from under him. He pitched backwards, arms pinwheeling in empty air. Emma reached out to grab him, but another set of hands caught him first. “Oh my God, thank you! I –“

Emma’s words failed her then as she looked up into an unfairly attractive face. The man had lustrous dark hair, a finely chiseled jaw covered in delicious looking scruff, and the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen. The eyes were what left her speechless. Then he smiled. A charming, somewhat rakish smile, and then Emma felt herself go hot. She blinked, trying to rouse herself from this stupor. She never let men affect her this way. Ever.

“Be careful there, lad,” he chuckled as he swung Henry up.

He had a British accent, too. Great. If he wasn’t a solid ten before, he sure was now. And he was fit too she could now see as he deposited Henry gently back onto the log (in a seated position this time). His tight jeans, black leather jacket, and gray t-shirt beneath put his toned physique on clear display. The v-neck of the shirt also showed off dark chest hair that made Emma’s throat go dry. He winked at her as he took his seat again on the log behind them.

“Swing me up too!” the little girl next to him squealed. She was an adorable thing with big blonde curls and huge blue eyes that were the same shade as Henry’s rescuer. The man caved immediately to the little girl’s request, and she giggled in delight as he scooped her up and swooped her around in an arc.

“Put her down, Killian!” a woman admonished, though her words had little heat. “The show’s about to start, and you’re blocking everyone’s view!”

The man – Killian, apparently – obeyed the woman’s request immediately, settling the little girl on his knee. It was then that Emma noticed the wedding band glinting in the sun on his left hand. Emma’s heart immediately sank. Sure enough, the woman beside him also had a wedding band with a sparkling diamond solitaire nestled above it. Emma wondered how those rings could sparkle so much on a cloudy day. They must be mocking her.

Emma turned away, putting her arm around Henry to pull him closer as story time began. It was about a misfit pumpkin who was square instead of round, though Emma had a hard time following the plot. She was far too aware of the handsome stranger behind her, and she had to force herself not to glance behind her. He’s with his wife she kept admonishing herself.

The enthusiastic storyteller had Henry giggling in all the right places. She finished up the story with a bow, informing everyone that another hayride was about to leave from the wooden gate directly behind them. It was insane how fast the mob headed in that direction, and Emma held tight to Henry’s hand. They were jostled by overeager children and parents who acted as if this were a ride at Disneyland instead of a flatbed piled with hay. A large man with an ample midsection shoved Emma from behind, propelling her right into … married hottie.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, her face burning with embarrassment. To make matters worse, her next step sent her sliding through a slick patch of mud, and the stranger had to grasp her by both arms to keep her from falling.

“No harm, love,” he assured as he helped her find her footing again.

“Mommy, hu-wee!” Henry piped up, yanking on her hand.

She shook her head to clear it and saw that the hayride was almost full. She mumbled a thank you to the blue-eyed Brit and hurried after her son. The man’s wife and daughter were already climbing the steps into the hay bed, and he hurried past Emma to assist them. Emma took the opportunity to really look at the woman. She moved with elegance, even when taking her husband’s hand to climb aboard the flatbed. Her light blonde hair was in a fishtail braid that rested over her shoulder. She smiled at the little girl as her husband swung the child up, tickling her as she settled into her mother’s lap. It was a picture of domestic bliss framed with the wooden fence and the trees above covered in red and orange leaves like the covers of those parenting magazines that littered the waiting room at the health department. But she could at least scoff at those, knowing they were fake families made of perfect models. This scene was like salt rubbed right where it would hurt most.

Emma brushed off the melancholy thoughts as she helped Henry up into the hay. She had never been so keenly aware of how scuffed his boots were, how faded his little thrift store jacket. Did everyone on this hayride look at the two of them and feel pity? Or worse, judgment? Emma bit her lip, wondering why the handsome man and his picture perfect family were bothering her so much. She grasped the sides of the flatbed and pulled herself up. She and Henry were the last two on, and the hay was packed with people. Emma hesitated, glancing around for an open spot. Impatient, Henry began to whine and cling to her leg. His weight, combined with the uneven bed of hay and the slight tilt of the vehicle on the rutted trail, sent Emma pitching sideways. She fell into another person, both of them grunting with the impact. Emma braced herself against a strong pair of shoulders and looked up into the shocked blue eyes of the same handsome – unavailable – man as before. What did his wife call him again? Oh right …Killian.

To Emma’s shock, his wife actually laughed as Emma stammered an apology. She had literally fallen into the man’s lap, and her legs were tangled up with his. A blush colored his own cheeks as he grinned at her.

“We’ve got to quit meeting this way,” he teased.

“Stop flirting and let the poor woman go,” his wife admonished with a light slap to his shoulder.

She was either really secure in their relationship, or she was really used to women falling all over her husband. Probably the latter, though most women probably didn’t do it as literally as Emma just had. Emma scooted quickly out of his lap, but still didn’t see a spot for her and Henry. It felt like everyone on the hayride was staring at her.

“Here love,” Killian said, scooting over closer to his wife and slinging his arm over her shoulder, “you and your boy can squeeze in here.”

Emma mumbled a thank you yet again – when had her tongue swollen to twice its size? – and wedged herself between Killian and the back gate of the flatbed. She got Henry situated on her lap just as the tractor lurched forward. She grabbed onto the metal grate next to her to steady herself.

“Killian Jones,” the man at her side officially introduced himself, offering his hand.

“Emma Swan,” she replied, shaking it.

“Elsa Jones,” the other woman said, leaning over Killian to offer her hand to shake as well. The last name snuffed out the tiny flicker of hope that had remained in Emma’s heart. So they were married. “And this,” Elsa Jones added, tickling the little girl in her own lap, “is Bethany.”

“Nice to meet you, Bethany,” Emma told the little girl, “how old are you?”

“Thwee,” the child answered, struggling to hold up the requisite number of fingers.

“What do you know?” Emma said to Henry enthusiastically. “You’re three too, Henry. Say hello to Bethany.”

“Hello,” Henry muttered as if it pained him to do so, then turned his face to bury it in his mother’s chest.

Emma frowned. “What’s up with you, kid? You’re never shy.”

Killian leaned towards her conspiratorially. “Maybe he just has a thing for blondes.”

He waggled his eyes, and Emma wondered what his angle was. Maybe he was referring to his wife? Then again, he had also winked at Emma earlier. The guy’s handsome looks suddenly weren’t affecting her quite the same way. What kind of jerk flirted with another woman right in front of his wife?

Emma pressed her lips together as she purposefully looked away from him. Come on, Emma, a part of her argued, maybe he’s just friendly and doesn’t realize how it comes across. But another part of her argued back that the male gender hadn’t exactly proven itself trustworthy throughout her life. Most were scumbags, weren’t they?

The hay ride took them past a field of cows and another of beautiful horses. Emma and Elsa both chatted with the children about the animals, asking what sounds they made. Elsa laughed and chatted with Emma about the things mothers usually do; the struggles of potty training, the annoying kid shows with songs that get stuck in your head, the infernal stubbornness of three year olds. Emma found it odd that she didn’t include her husband in the parenting equation, and even more strange that he didn’t put in his own antidotes. The cracks were showing in this supposedly perfect little family, but it strangely didn’t bring Emma any satisfaction.

The hayride was incredibly bumpy because of all the rain, much to Emma’s chagrin because she kept falling against the rock-hard chest of the man sitting next to her. The more it happened, the more irritated Emma became and the more apologetic Killian became.

Next they passed a field of pumpkins where families ambled amongst the orange gourds, searching for the perfect one. The children both exclaimed with delight, asking when they would get to choose their own pumpkin. Bethany tugged on her father’s arm, pointing excitedly.

“I see, starfish, pumpkins!” he chuckled, brushing a kiss against her curls.

Emma blinked, her heart playing ping pong with her brain. Who was this guy? Flirtatious jerk? Inattentive husband? Doting father? Emma couldn’t tell.

As they rounded the pumpkin patch, the tractor hit a deep rut and then slid in the mud. For one terrifying moment, the entire thing pitched sideways and everyone on board screamed. The driver corrected, guiding them back onto steady ground with a huge bump. The bump sent Emma careening sideways, and she ended up draped across the chest of Killian Jones, her arms encircling his neck.

She reacted more quickly this time, her “I’m so, so, SO sorry!” now directed at Elsa. The woman, amazingly, still didn’t seem fazed. As a matter of fact, the smile on her face and the light in her eyes almost seemed … delighted?

Emma didn’t want to waste one more minute trying to figure out this little family. As soon as the driver opened the gate, Emma scrambled down from the hayride, balancing Henry on her hip. Her son, however, wasn’t cooperating with her attempt at a quick getaway. At some point during the hay ride, Bethany had apparently become his new best friend. She squealed and grabbed his hand as soon as her family climbed down.

“We wanna do the maze!” Bethany shouted.

“The maze! The maze!” Henry echoed her, jumping up and down.

Then the two of them were off like a shot towards the nearby field of tall corn.

“Don’t get too far ahead!” Elsa shouted after them.

“You’ll get lost in there, Henry!” Emma called out as she and her new friend jogged down the hill after them.

“I’ve got them!” Killian assured, passing them with his longer strides. He grabbed up both kids easily, one in each arm, and they both giggled with delight. He turned towards Emma and Elsa with a wink then set the kids down at the entrance to the maze marked “easy.”

Elsa and Emma slowed their pace, following Killian and the children into the maze. Elsa gave her an almost mischievous smile before leaning over to speak to her in a low voice.

“I think he likes you.”

Emma’s eyes grew wide as saucers and her mouth hung open at the other woman’s words. She glanced over at Killian, then back to Elsa, then blinked rapidly. “He, you mean Killian? As in your … your … husband?” She practically whispered the last word.

Elsa’s eyebrows flew to her hairline before she tilted her head back and let out a long, hearty laugh. Emma narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, failing to see why being invited into some weird open marriage scenario was so hilarious to this woman.

“Oh my God, no!” Elsa laughed, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. “I guess I can see how you thought that. We should have been clearer when we introduced ourselves. Killian’s my brother-in-law .”

“Ohhh …” Emma said, trailing off, feeling like she’d just gotten mental whiplash, “but he is married. I saw the ring.”

The smile fell from Elsa’s face as she shook her head, “I’ve told him so many times to take that ring off. He says he can’t bear to, but I think it’s sort of a way to protect his heart, you know? Women assume, like you did, so they stay away.”

Emma tilted her head as her gaze landed on Killian again. He grabbed Bethany before she could dash off in the opposite direction from Henry, tickling her as he tossed her over his shoulder.

“What happened to his wife?”

Elsa sighed. “It was a brain tumor. By the time they found it, the cancer was too advanced. He only had Milah for about four months after the diagnosis. That was four years ago.”

Emma groaned and covered her face with her hands, “God, I feel horrible now.”

Elsa chuckled. “I understand now why you got a little prickly back there. You thought my husband was hitting on you.” She laughed again as if being married to Killian was the funniest, most preposterous scenario. “I mean, he’s a great guy, but he and Liam – my husband – couldn’t be more different. I guess steady and serious is more my type.”

They walked in silence for a moment. They could no longer see Killian or the kids, but they could hear the children’s giggles around the corner and followed the sound.

“Liam is in the navy,” Elsa explained, “and when he was deployed eight months ago, Killian moved here to help with Bethany.”

“Wow,” Emma said, feeling even worse about the assumptions she had made, “that’s a rare guy.”

“Yeah,” Elsa agreed, “that’s why I want to see him move on from his grief.” She stopped and turned to Emma with an earnest expression. “That’s why I was so happy the second he winked at you back at the story barn. I haven’t seen him flirt with a woman that way in so long. And he blushed ten shades of red when you landed in his lap.”

Emma groaned. “Twice. I landed in his lap twice.”

Elsa nudged her shoulder. “Maybe it was fate giving you a little push.”

The “easy” corn maze took far longer than Emma would have expected, and they were all hot, sweaty, and hungry by the time they found their way out. The clouds had rolled away, revealing a bright blue sky, and the temperature had risen with it. Henry had shed his jacket long ago, leaving Emma to lug it around along with her own.

“Why do people think these things are fun?” Emma quipped as they exited the corn field, and Elsa and Killian both laughed in agreement.

“And that was the easy one!” Elsa said with a shake of her head.

“Let’s get some food into these little ones, shall we?” Killian asked, gesturing to a food truck that had been parked along the tree line with wooden picnic benches set up in front of it.

“The little ones?” Emma laughed. “ I’m starving.”

“Uh, why don’t I take the kids and get us a table?” Elsa suggested. “And you two go get the food?”

Emma had only just met the woman, but she was no fool. She noticed the slight tilt of Elsa’s head in Killian’s direction as she locked eyes with Emma. Then she was corralling the kids towards the tables, assuming the other two adults would follow her orders.

“How she and my brother don’t fight twenty four seven is beyond me,” Killian commented with a shake of his head. “They both like bossing people around.”

Emma laughed as they made their way to the food truck. When they joined the long line of people waiting to order, she cleared her throat nervously and shuffled her feet.

“I owe you an apology,” she finally blurted out.

Killian’s brow furrowed. “Miss Swan, you really need to stop apologizing. It was crowded and bumpy –“

She waved her hand to stop him. “I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about … .” she searched for the right words and finally settled on the one Elsa had used earlier, “being prickly.”

He cocked his head at her. “Prickly?”

She let out a long breath. “I was sort of rude. I … I thought you and Elsa were married.”

He gave a small chuckle but didn’t dissolve into laughter as Elsa hand. Instead he lifted his left hand and fiddled with the ring resting there. “I can’t fault you for being confused, love. And if you were right, I would definitely be worthy of your cold shoulder.”

“Are you always so eloquent?” Emma asked, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

He laughed and scratched behind his ear. “So I’ve been told.”

“So I’m forgiven?”

His smile broadened. “Of course.”

They shuffled forward in the slow moving line, and Emma gazed across the field where Elsa sat at a picnic table. Henry was chasing Bethany in circles nearby.

“Elsa explained it all to me,” she told him quietly.

“About why I’m tagging along with their little family or why I’m still wearing a wedding ring?” he asked bluntly.

Emma shrugged. “Both.”

He nodded, staring down at the ring and twirling it around his finger. “It was hard for me to be around them at first. I know it hurt Liam; he was so excited when Bethany was born. But all it did was remind me of what I had lost.” He looked up and met Emma’s gaze. “Milah was pregnant when they found the tumor. Our child and Bethany would have been about the same age.”

Emma frowned as her heart sank. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

He released a sigh as he rubbed his chin. “But it was wrong of me to stay away. I see that now. When Liam shipped out, I was going nowhere, doing nothing with my life. The least I could do was be here for my family when they needed me. Being around Bethany has been the best medicine for my soul, you know? I love that little starfish with all I have.”

Emma smiled. “Kids can do that. Henry is the only good thing to come from a very painful time in my life.”

Killian frowned. “I’m sorry, Emma. Is his father in his life at all?”

Emma shook her head. “No. He doesn’t deserve to be. Let’s just say he took advantage of me, then left me.” She pressed her lips together, hoping Killian didn’t ask for more of the story. She was shocked she had told him that much.

He reached down and gently took her hand. “He must be the world’s biggest idiot, then,” he told her softly, giving her fingers a tiny squeeze.

Emma felt a blush stain her cheeks even as she rolled her eyes. “Smooth.”

Killian wiggled his eyebrows. “It was rather, wasn’t it?” he quipped, making her laugh.

By that point, they had reached the truck. Emma looked over the menu, which was filled with typical country fair type refreshments: funnel cakes, corn dogs, French fries, and candy apples. Emma’s heart sank as she looked at the inflated prices, imagining the tiny wad of cash remaining in the front pocket of her jeans.

“It’s on me, Swan,” Killian said as he stepped up to the window, pulling his wallet from the inside pocket of his jacket. “Anything you and your boy would like.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Emma protested.

He smiled gently at her. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

Emma hated charity, but the way Killian spoke so sincerely, the way his gaze rested warmly on her, it didn’t feel like charity at all. She gave a simple nod, then gave the employee in the window her order. They made their way back to Elsa and the kids laden down with five corn dogs, four orders of fries, an order of onion rings, and five cans of soda. Killian helped her hand everything out, and they all sat down. Elsa and Emma went to work immediately cutting the kids’ corn dogs into bite size pieces.

“Onion rings, not fries,” Killian pointed out before taking a sip of his drink, “I’ll file that information away, love.”

Emma shook her head, hating the way he could so easily make her blush as she concentrated on Henry’s corn dog. She cleared her throat. “Who says you’ll need it?”

He arched one brow and smirked. “A man can hope.”

Elsa smiled delightedly at the pair of them, no doubt praising herself for her matchmaking skills.

          *********************************************************

After eating, the kids wanted to go to the pumpkin painting booth. Each child got a complimentary tiny pumpkin to paint. Being typical three year olds, both children were too stubborn to let Elsa or Emma assist them. Little Bethany poked her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she carefully dabbed blue and yellow polka dots all over her pumpkin. Her circles were blotchy and misshapen, but for three, it was extremely impressive. Henry, on the other hand, insisted on covering his pumpkin sloppily in every color available.

“She’s really good at this,” Emma commented, gesturing to Bethany’s handiwork.

Elsa grinned and elbowed Killian in the ribs. “It’s in her genes, isn’t it?”

“You’re an artist?” Emma asked as Killian scratched behind his ear. She was beginning to wonder if it was a nervous tic of his.

“I dabble,” he admitted with a shrug.

“Dabble?” Elsa snorted with a roll of her eyes. Then she looked at Emma and explained, “he’s a graphic artist.”

“Well,” Killian explained, gesturing to the table before them, “I was referring to the paint. I dabble with painting. The computer stuff is my job. But drawing and painting? That’s my hobby.”

Emma smiled with appreciation at him, then frowned down at Henry’s pumpkin. The colors had all mixed together into a nasty brown. “Well, I can’t say there are any artistic genes in my family.”

Henry turned with a broad grin to show off his pumpkin, and Killian hid a laugh behind his hand. Emma shrugged as she praised Henry’s effort. Oh well, maybe her kid would have other talents, right?

The employees manning the booth lined up all the pumpkins to dry on a shelf behind them, jotting the kids’ names on paper towels. They were informed that they could pick up the dried projects on their way out in about half an hour, so the five of them headed for the pumpkin patch.

“We’re avoiding the petting zoo,” Elsa whispered in Emma’s ear conspiratorially.

“Oh, I’m with you on that one,” Emma whispered back.

“I mean, it rained this morning,” Elsa continued, wrinkling her nose, “do you know how bad those animals are going to smell?”

Emma laughed, “I know, right?”

She remembered reading Anne of Green Gables as a kid. Tried to read it, anyway. The librarian at her middle school thought it would be perfect for Emma; the story of an unwanted orphan finding an unlikely family. The librarian was wrong. Emma Swan had never met a Marilla and Matthew Cuthbert, had never been as optimistic as Anne Shirley, and she had certainly never had any friends who were “kindred spirits.” But now, here with Elsa? She was re-thinking the possibility of such things.

The kids raced through the rows of pumpkins, thumping them with their hands like giant drums. Elsa chose a medium sized pumpkin to make a pie, tucking it under her arm. Emma just stood there, looking up and down the rows with a frown on her face.

“Something wrong, love?” Killian asked.

Emma shrugged with a wry laugh. “Never been to a pumpkin patch before. I’ve always just gotten them at the grocery store.”

Killian nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “The first time I ever went was with Milah after we’d been married about a year.” He pushed a pumpkin idly with his toe before meeting her gaze. “Not many foster parents take the time you know. Never even carved a pumpkin until Liam and I were on our own.”

Emma blinked, shocked to recognize the shame in his eyes. “Foster parents?”

Killian nodded. “Mum died when I was so young, I don’t remember her. Papa just up and left. So …”

Emma bit her lip. “Similar story,” she admitted, “I guess. Thing is, I don’t even know who my parents were or why they abandoned me.”

They were quiet for a long moment, and Emma was relieved to see only understanding, not pity in Killian’s eyes. Then he gave her a soft smile and reached out to twirl a lock of her hair around his finger.

“Well Swan, you never forget your first,” he told her with a smirk.

Emma gaped. “Excuse me?”

He laughed. “First pumpkin that is.”

Emma rolled her eyes and smacked him in the shoulder. “You’re awful.”

“You think I’m cute, admit it,” he teased, sauntering into her personal space.

Emma swallowed hard as she tilted her head to look up at him. The sun overhead sparkled in his blue eyes and his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Are you two ever going to pick a pumpkin, or are you just going to keep flirting?”

Elsa’s voice snapped them both out of it, and Killian rushed over to hoist the large carving pumpkin that his sister-in-law was attempting to juggle with the pie pumpkin. Killian turned back to Emma, his expression looking a bit bashful as his tongue swiped across his lower lip nervously.

“We’re having a get together tonight,” Killian began, “for Elsa’s sister’s birthday. It’s real casual; just ordering some Chinese and then having a bonfire. We … we would love to have you. And Henry, of course.”

“That’s a great idea!” Elsa exulted, smiling broadly. “Bethany and Henry have obviously hit it off, and we always order way too much food.”

“Um …” Emma hedged, her gaze darting from Killian to Elsa and back again.

A part of her wanted to say yes. She had only just met these two, and they already felt like such great friends. But the other part of her, the cautious part, latched onto the fact that she had just met these people . Wasn’t this the part in movies where the naïve young mother gets taken in by the seemingly friendly couple who are actually serial killers? Or she accepts a friendly offer only to find herself escorted to the compound of some weird cult?

Emma shook her head before the words were even out of her mouth. “It’s such a long drive to the city. We really shouldn’t.”

Killian glanced at his wristwatch. “It’s three already, and we’re eating at six. You can just come on over and visit until everyone arrives.”

“You’ll love Anna and her husband,” Elsa insisted.

Emma looked into both their faces, so friendly, so open. In Killian’s eyes, and in their conversations, she also felt a deep connection that she couldn’t explain. But instead of those things comforting her, they only freaked her out more.

“I really can’t,” she said firmly.

Neither of them could hide their disappointment. Killian’s shoulders sagged and he dropped his head to stare at the pumpkin in his arms. When he lifted his gaze to Emma’s, his expression was almost pleading.

“It was wonderful meeting you, Swan. Perhaps … I could get your number?”

Emma felt her heart thudding in her chest, the air suddenly tight in her lungs. They had too much in common, too much shared tragedy. He would expect things to get serious, and that terrified her.

“I … don’t think that’s a good idea.” She averted her gaze when she saw the clear hurt in his eyes.

“Well,” he said with a resigned sigh, “let me help Elsa get these to the car, and I’ll come back and carry yours for you.”

“No, don’t do that,” Emma told him quickly. She feared if she was in this man’s presence for one more minute, her resolve might crumble. “We may be awhile yet. First pumpkin, remember? Gotta make it a good one.”

The smile he gave her was forced, and Elsa laid a hand on his arm as they walked away. Emma remembered her words earlier, I haven’t seen him flirt with a woman that way in so long. He had finally put himself out there, and Emma had crushed him. After they disappeared over the hill, Emma collapsed onto an enormous pumpkin behind her.

“Mo-mmy!” Henry exclaimed, pulling on her hand. “Why you sittin?”

Emma looked at her son wearily. “Because Mommy feels like dirt, that’s why.”

She let Henry pull her to her feet, and she wandered aimlessly among the pumpkins. Henry didn’t seem to mind her stupor, content to run around, climbing on pumpkins and using them like bongo drums. She finally snapped out of it and helped Henry pick a pumpkin for them to carve. One that wasn’t too big or too small and was nice and round. When she hoisted it into her arms, she regretted turning down Killian’s offer to come back and carry it for her. Thankfully, an employee came over to assist her, pushing a wheelbarrow.

It wasn’t until Emma had paid for the pumpkin with the last of the cash in her pocket and had the employee lift it into her backseat that she remembered the tiny pumpkin Henry had painted. She contemplated leaving it, considering that it looked like it had been rolled in doggy poo, but then she thought about what would happen if Henry remembered it. She might have a meltdown on her hands, especially since he hadn’t had a nap today. She sighed wearily, took Henry’s hand, and headed back to the painting booth.

Emma smiled at the workers and thanked them as they handed her Henry’s brown-smudged pumpkin. As she turned to go, Henry’s exclamation stopped her.

“Mommy, look!”

Her son was holding up a pink polka dot Minnie Mouse backpack. On the table next to him was the adorable polka dotted pumpkin Bethany had painted earlier. Emma gasped and took the backpack from her son’s hand. She remembered Elsa carrying it around all day, even complaining how she couldn’t get Bethany to wear it. She examined the pack, looking for a tag with an address, but she could find nothing. She zipped it open, and there, written in black sharpie on the inside cover was, “Property of Bethany Jones, 1245 Sweet Haven Lane, Storybrooke, ME.”

“Henry,” Emma said to her little boy with a smile on her face, “I think fate just gave me another push.”

                    ***********************************************************

Emma’s GPS told her to take another right turn, then announced that her destination was on the left. Emma parked along the curb, leaning to look out of the window of her yellow bug at the adorable blue Victorian house at 1245 Sweet Haven Lane.

“I hung-wee, Mommy,” Henry told her from the backseat.

“I know, kid,” Emma told him as she unbuckled her seat belt, “we might be eating in just a minute.” If they still want us, that is.

Emma helped Henry out of his car seat and onto the curb. She grabbed Bethany’s things from the front passenger seat, then took Henry’s hand as they walked up the front steps of the beautiful house. It was a little after six, and dusk was falling. The porch lights were already glowing beside the quaint front door. Emma took a deep breath and knocked.

The door swung open a few moments later, and Emma’s breath left her lungs when she saw Killian Jones standing there. Thankfully, he smiled when he saw her.

“Swan! You changed your mind?”

Emma returned his smile and lifted the backpack up for him to see. “I found this after you left. Your address was inside.”

“Oh,” Killian said, his face falling as he accepted the bag, “thank you.”

“The pumpkin she painted is inside.”

“Uncle Ki-wee!” a small voice called, and then Bethany Jones was colliding with her uncle’s leg. “My bag!” she squealed, grabbing it and hugging it to her chest. “Hen-we!” she exclaimed next, launching herself at her new friend.

“Beffy!” Henry shouted in return.

Before Emma could say anything, Bethany was pulling Henry inside and tugging him down the hall. She shouted as she ran, “They came, Mommy! It worked!”

Killian’s jaw dropped and his face turned red. He pointed at his niece’s retreating form. “I did not plan this, I swear. This was all Elsa’s doing.”

Emma smiled shyly up at him. “I don’t mind. I’m kind of glad, actually.”

He grinned so wide, Emma noticed for the first time that he had dimples. “So you’ll stay?”

She shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I do like Chinese food.”

Killian ushered her inside, where she was promptly enveloped in a hug from Elsa.

“Don’t be mad,” she whispered in Emma’s ear.

Emma smiled at her as she pulled away from her embrace. “Mad? I might just thank you.”

Elsa gave a relieved laugh as she pulled her gently into a formal dining room. A red head walked through an archway that led into the kitchen, carrying two cartons of take out. She actually waddled more than walked because she was very hugely pregnant.

“Emma,” Elsa said eagerly, pulling her across the room, “this is my sister Anna.”

The woman set the cartons of fried rice onto the table and then hugged Emma eagerly. “It is so nice to meet you! Elsa told me all about everything,” she finished with a wink.

Emma could only stammer and blush as Anna stepped away. A man with dirty blonde hair came through the archway next, carrying plastic containers of sweet and sour chicken.

“So who was at the door?” he asked as he came into the room, not really paying attention. “Was it that blonde Killian has a crush on?”

Killian walked in the room at the same moment from the hallway, and he stood there, the top of his ears turning red. Bethany was wrapped around his left leg, and Henry around his right. Both were giggling delightedly. Overall, it made an adorable picture.

“Kristoff!” Anna admonished over her shoulder, then quickly turned back to Emma. “Forgive my husband, he has no filter.”

“Says the girl who asked me why I smelled like wet fur the day she met me,” Kristoff grumbled.

Anna rolled her eyes. “Just go get the soy sauce, honey.”

Chastised, Kristoff shuffled back to the kitchen. Elsa shook her head. “Don’t mind them, their cutting banter is their idea of foreplay.”

Anna laughed as she eased herself awkwardly into a dining room chair. “As you can clearly see,” she said, rubbing her large abdomen.

“When are you due?” Emma asked politely.

“Not for another month,” Anna said on a long sigh, “and I know, I’m huge.”

“You look perfect,” Kristoff assured her as he returned with the condiments.

He leaned over and planted a kiss to her forehead. Anna tilted her head and smiled up at him, squeezing the hand that rested on her shoulder. Emma had to admit they were an adorable couple.

Elsa encouraged everyone to take a seat, adamant about who sat where. Therefore, Emma wasn’t surprised to end up on Killian’s right with Henry on the other side of her. Food was passed around amidst easy chatter, and Emma just soaked it in. The only time she ever had this as a kid was with that one family when she was fourteen. Then they had chosen their “real kids” over her, and she had run away.

“So Elsa said you live in Portland,” Kristoff said, making small talk to include her. “What do you do?”

“Oh, um … “ Emma hedged, squirming in her seat, “right now I’m just a temp, filling in here and there.”

She stared at her fried rice, hoping her answer didn’t make her sound irresponsible. Giving birth in jail at 18 wasn’t exactly conducive to higher education, and even though she had worked her butt off once she got out to be able to keep Henry, employers weren’t exactly jumping to give her a chance.

“That’s so funny,” Elsa laughed, “I was working at a temp agency when I met Kristoff. I would never have offered him a home cooked meal if I had known he would steal away my sister.”

Emma laughed along with them as they reminisced, relieved that no one was pressing her about her career plans. Until Elsa turned to her again.

“Have you thought of online college?” she asked. “That’s what I did while working as a temp. Anna and I lost our parents when I was a freshman in college, and it drastically changed both our plans.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said softly.

Killian leaned over, “Welcome to the orphan’s club.”

Emma glanced around the table at all of the welcoming faces around her, and for the first time since she pulled up to the curb in front of the house, she relaxed. The conversation shifted to lighter topics, and Emma found herself smiling and laughing.

“Killian!” Anna gasped, reaching across the table to grasp his left hand which was reaching for another helping of rice, “You took off your wedding ring!”

“Um, aye,” he said awkwardly, pulling his hand from her grip and scratching behind his ear. He glanced at Emma and held her gaze as he explained. “It felt like it was finally time to move on.”

“Oh, I’m so happy!” Anna gasped, both hands flying to her face and tears filling her eyes. She grabbed her napkin and dabbed at her cheeks as they spilled over. “Sorry, pregnancy hormones you know.”

“Mommy,” Bethany piped up, tugging on Elsa’s sleeve, “when we get mashmell-os?”

Elsa rubbed her daughter’s back. “In just a little bit, sweetie.”

“I think we’re all done, right?” Kristoff asked. “All we have to do is toss the paper plates and put away the leftovers.”

“Yay!” Bethany cheered.

“Wait!” Anna said. She reached for a small bowl full of cellophane wrapped fortune cookies. “It’s a birthday tradition, you know. Choose a cookie.”

“We all have to go around and read our fortunes out loud,” Killian explained.

“Oh,” Emma said with a nod as she reached into the bowl as it was passed to her.

“Birthday girl first!” Anna squealed, then broke open her cookie. She read it silently, then burst out laughing. “A great change is coming your way.”

Everyone laughed along with her, and Elsa quipped, “Believe me, you have lots of changes in your future, most of them smelly ones. Right, Emma?”

“Okay,” Anna said, rubbing her hands together gleefully, “I choose Killian to go next.” She exchanged a delighted glance with her sister then added in a sing-song voice, “I hope it’s a good one!”

Killian just shook his head at the teasing as he cracked open his fortune cookie. As he read the tiny slip of paper, however, the blood seemed to drain from his face, and his eyes widened considerably. He just sat there for a long moment, staring at it.

“Well,” Anna pressed, leaning across the table and craning her neck to try to see his fortune, “what does it say?”

“Nothing,” Killian said with a shake of his head, “just your generic good luck sentiment, you know.”

“Killian,” Elsa admonished with a narrowing of her eyes, “that’s not how the tradition works and you know it. Read the fortune, Jones.”

Killian swallowed as red crept up his neck. Then he cleared his throat and read, “Kiss the person to your right.”

Every pair of eyes at the table swiveled towards Emma. Except Killian, who stared down at his plate.

“No way!” Kristoff argued. “It doesn’t say that. Let me see!”

He reached across the table and snatched the fortune. Upon reading it, he handed it to his wife. Her jaw dropped.

“That’s really what it says!”

The fortune was passed around until it got to Emma. Sure enough, Killian wasn’t making it up. Emma’s face burned as she slid the paper over to Killian, their fingertips brushing. She ever so slowly lifted her gaze to his. He gave her a sheepish smile and an apologetic shrug.

“Well, kiss her!” Anna insisted. Her sister and her husband added their encouragement as well.

Emma could see that Killian was conflicted. So she arched a brow and gave him a flirty smile as she said, “Well, how about it? You gonna kiss me or just sit there?”

There was a combination of cheering and clapping from the others, even Bethany and Henry, though they probably had no idea what was going on. Killian chuckled and ducked his head, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. Then his eyes met hers again, and he leaned towards her. But just before his lips could connect with hers, he changed his angle and brushed them across her cheek instead. Emma was simultaneously disappointed and amazed at how that simple brush of his lips sent a thrill all the way to the core of her. A groan resounded from the others but Emma gave him a tender smile. Though part of her wanted him to kiss her properly, she knew it would have been awkward with everyone, including her three year old watching. He reached out with his thumb and brushed it across the dimple in her chin. It was only a quick, light touch, but it made her heart flip anyway.

          *************************************************

After the fortune cookies, Kristoff and Killian got a bonfire going in the backyard, and everyone gathered around to roast marshmallows. There was also a chocolate cake for Anna’s birthday. Both Kristoff and Killian could play the guitar, and Elsa was an amazing singer. Emma had never heard a better rendition of the birthday song. Then the guys took requests, readily singing and playing whatever was thrown their way, even the PJ Masks theme song (as requested by Henry and Bethany, of course). It showed what good uncles they both were to Bethany that the men already knew all the words.

Now Henry was asleep in Killian’s arms as he walked them to her yellow bug. He gently placed the child in his car seat, and Emma’s heart ached in her chest as Killian smoothed her son’s hair across his forehead. Emma put her hand in her pocket and fingered the fortune she had gotten: When fate gives you a sign, leap.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked as Killian stood and gently shut the car door.

“Sure.”

“Was that kiss really the best that you could do?” her mouth turned up flirtatiously as she said it.

A slow smile filled Killian’s face as well. He sauntered into her personal space as he answered. “Perhaps I was worried that you couldn’t handle it.”

Emma tilted her head as she bit her lower lip. She saw Killian’s eyes drift to stare at that spot, his pupils dilating. “Maybe you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

He pounced on her so suddenly, that Emma let out a yelp. It was quickly swallowed up, however, by his mouth on hers. The kiss was deep and aggressive, and it caused Emma to lose her balance. Killian cupped her cheek with one hand and steadied her at the waist with the other. He turned her slightly to pin her between the bug and his body. Emma snaked her arms up his chest and then grasped the back of his head with both hands. It was his turn now as she kissed him back with ferocity, a groan escaping from his throat.

When they finally parted, panting, they were both wobbling slightly and disoriented. They pressed their foreheads together to steady themselves.

“Now that,” Emma gasped, “was a kiss.”

He chuckled, brushing both of her cheeks with his thumbs as he cupped her face. He bent down to kiss her again, this one slow and languid. His fingers drifted to her hair, tangling there and tugging slightly. It took every ounce of willpower Emma had to push him away, and even then she chased his lips, brushing them chastely before reaching behind her and grasping the door handle.

“Good night,” she told him as she opened the car door.

“Wait …” he said, looking completely wrecked by their kisses.

Emma put two fingers to his lips to stop his words, then with her other hand, she pressed a tiny slip of paper into his palm. Then she quickly entered the bug, started the car, and drove away. She glanced in her rearview mirror only once to see him standing in the street, staring down at that tiny bit of paper. She tore her gaze away as she turned at the next stop sign.

Suddenly, her cell phone started ringing. Emma picked it up and grinned broadly to see an unknown number flashing on the screen. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath so that when she answered, she sounded calm.

“Hello.”

“You know, a lesser man might think you were teasing, Swan. Writing your number on such an itty bitty piece of paper.”

“Well,” Emma teased back, “I wanted you to work for it.”

“When can I see you again?”

The timbre of Killian’s voice when he asked the question sent a shiver down Emma’s spine.

“When are you available?”

“Well, we’ve already been on a hayride, solved a corn maze, been to a pumpkin patch, and had a bonfire. How about we continue the fall clichés and carve said pumpkins together? Could you and Henry be here tomorrow afternoon? Or do you work Sundays?”

Emma didn’t know what touched her more; that he wanted to see her again so soon, that he was including Henry, or that he had chosen a casual activity. It took her so long to get herself together, that Killian got nervous waiting on the other end.

“Swan, you still there?”

Emma cleared her throat. “Um, yeah, sorry. I was just … thinking that tomorrow is perfect.”

Over the next few weeks, Killian insisted that they check off every fall tradition together. In addition to carving pumpkins, they watched a Storybrooke High football game cuddled underneath a fuzzy blanket, jumped into a pile of leaves, bobbed for apples at the Storybrooke Fall Festival, and took Henry and Bethany trick or treating. By the time Emma found herself gathered around the dining room table once again for Thanksgiving with Killian’s family, she had decided one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt.

“Let’s play ball!” David screamed as the team ran onto the baseball diamond for the game against Neal and his posse.

Neal’s team was already there, all the boys in their positions on the field, throwing a baseball around between them. The home team seemed visibly put off by the screams announcing the arrival of the team from the sandlot.

Killian led his team to an area near the bench that would serve as the dugout for this game.

“Okay, team. David’s leadoff. Then Scarlet’s the 2-spot. Liam is the 3-hole. I’m the cleanup. Robin is the 5 position. Grumpy - spot 6. Sneezy - spot 7. Swan, you’re batting 8. And Squints, take us home as the 9 player.” The team all nodded. There were a couple “okay”s, an “aye, aye, Captain,” and Sneezy sneezed. “And Scarlet, you'll pitch.” Will saluted Killian and Killian dismissed the group to go sit on the bench.

David stepped up to the plate. His teammates on the bench took in the field in front of him. David made a show out of taking some practice swings and sauntering up to the base.

“Hurry up, batter,” the tall catcher - Pan, Emma remembered - pushed David.

“Relax, Pan,” Neal, who was on the pitcher’s mound, yelled. “It's gonna be a short game, and I gotta get home for lunch.”

David took his position and nodded to Neal that he was ready. First was a swing and a miss.

Pan snickered, “that’s one!”

David hit the next pitch - a double. The sandlot team cheered as Will ran after the bat to where David tossed it before he ran. Will hit a single. Liam hit a double. Killian was on deck.

“Spread back, guys. Little Jonesy is good,” Neal sent his team back further out on the field to prepare for a big hit from Killian.

Eric leaned over to Emma and whispered, “he’s got this,” before retreating back to his own space and pushing up his glasses.

Neal released the first pitch, and it almost hit Killian. Emma saw Liam clench his fists at second as he watched his brother barely move out of the way of the ball. Emma could see Killian’s jaw clench from her place on the bench.

Will was the only one to speak up. “Oi! Watch it, Cassidy!”

“Shut up, Scarlet.” Neal didn’t take his gaze off Killian, who was taking a couple breaths before stepping back up to the plate.

“Not my problem if the only way you think you can win is by taking out Jones!”  

“Scarlet!” Neal barked, glaring at Will on third. Will shrugged in response, earning laughter from his team in the dugout. Neal shook it off, narrowing his eyes at Killian, and throwing another pitch, which collided with Killian’s bat. Neal’s teammates hit the fence as the ball soared over it for a home run. Killian ran the bases and arrived back to the bench to high-fives from his team.

On deck was Robin, who hit a single. The twins both got out - Grumpy with a flyout and Sneezy with a strikeout. Emma hit the ball with enough distance to get her to first, but Robin tried getting two bases out of it and got tagged out at third. Even with the three outs, the group of kids from the sandlot ended their first half an inning with 4 runs.

Neal’s team managed to score 1 in the bottom of the first, but that 1 was never going to be enough, and both teams knew it.

By the time the fifth inning came around, Neal was in danger of taking Grumpy’s nickname from him. The top half of the fifth, Emma led off with a triple, and Eric got her home with a sacrifice fly. But that was the only easy out the other team got the entire half inning. David, Will, Liam, Killian, and Robin all hit easily, quickly making their way around the bases. Grumpy and Sneezy both hit singles, which Emma followed with another triple. It appeared she figured out Neal’s pitching style. She smirked at Neal from third when he kept looking back at her.

At that moment, Emma made up her mind: She was going to steal home.

Emma glanced at Killian and the rest of her teammates in the dugout for support. When they figured out her intention, they all got quiet. In that moment, Neal looked over to the dugout to see why they went silent, and Emma ran. Neal’s guard was down, he was relaxed, and he was entirely unprepared to throw the ball. He didn’t think to turn back to Emma until she was halfway home. When he spotted her dashing, he cursed out Felix at third for not warning him sooner and threw the ball toward Pan at home, but due to his lack of preparation for the throw, it fell short, making Pan shuffle around to grab it before Emma touched home. Not concerning herself with the other team and their attempts to get her out, she leapt into the air and slid into home, not only touching it to be called safe, but also marking the first time ever she’s slid on a baseball field. Her team jumped off their bench and ran over to her to celebrate her stealing home, and Pan threw the ball at the ground in frustration as the kids from the sandlot roared and cheered. Liam, Robin, Will, and David lifted Emma as the team continued cheering for her. She really felt like a real baseball player at that moment, and she felt like part of a real team. As the boys put her down, she high-fived everyone as they made their way back to their bench so they could continue the game.

“Maybe we should follow a mercy rule, huh, Neal?” Emma was surprised by Liam’s instigation, but she stopped paying attention to the ensuing argument about mercy rule as Killian caught her by the arm.

“Are you alright? Your leg is bleeding.” That’s not what she thought he’d say, but she looked down to see that she scraped her leg while sliding. There were cuts and scrapes from her knee down the side of her leg. Emma laughed to herself, as she just figured out why baseball players wear pants.

“I’m fine. Just scrapes.” Killian let out a breath in relief. “I can play the rest of the game and get some Band-Aids when I get home.” Killian gave her a look as if to ask if she was sure. She smiled at him and walked slowly toward the dugout to show him she was serious about finishing this game.

“Wait, Swan!” Killian stopped her before she sat down with the rest of the team. He scratched at the spot where his cap met the back of his ear. “That was incredible.”

Feeling heat rush to her cheeks, Emma looked down as she quietly said, “thanks.”

“How’d it feel?”

“Unbelievable.” ---- To say the game was a success would be an understatement. In fact, they beat the crap out of those guys. The game was a series of the crack of the bat against the ball. They only allowed Neal’s team two more runs the entire game.

As the team all went to their respective homes to gather their saved-up allowances for a celebration at the nearest convenience store, Killian caught up to Emma.

“Hey, Swan.”

“Hey, Killian.”

“Do you want to watch baseball with me?”

“But the team’s going to get candy and Slurpees.”

Killian took off his baseball cap and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I was thinking of skipping out on that.”

Emma stopped in her tracks. “Really?” He shrugged as he stopped a couple steps ahead of her.

“I kinda want to save my money for when we go to that baseball game.” Emma nodded in understanding but stayed silent. Killian sighed. “Will you at least clean up your leg before you go with them?”

After a brief pause, Emma spoke. “Actually, I was thinking I’d watch baseball with my best friend instead.” Killian raised his eyebrows. “After I get some Band-Aids,” she added.

“Liam,” Killian called after his brother, who looked back at Emma and Killian, who were way behind the rest of the group. “Emma and I are going to skip the store. See you at home.” Liam nodded and joined the other boys as they made their way down the street.

“Do you want to come over?” Emma tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Ingrid and Arthur are still at work, but they won’t mind.”

“Sure, Swan.” Emma led Killian to her house. She unlocked the door and showed him to the living room, where the Swans kept their best television set.

“You can start watching if you want.” She handed him the remote. “I’ll be back once I wash this off and get a couple Band-Aids.”

Killian put the remote on the arm of the couch. “Let me help you.”

“Okay,” Emma replied softly as she went upstairs to her bathroom. “There should be some first aid stuff in here.” Emma went to bend down to look under the sink, but Killian stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Sit down, Swan. Let me.” She just nodded as she sat on the closed toilet and Killian rummaged under her sink. She stretched her leg out over the bathtub edge next to her as she waited for her friend. “Aha!” He pulled out a white first-aid kit and placed it on the sink. He opened it and fished out some antibiotic cream and a few large Band-Aids. “I’m going to wash it off first. Do you have a clean rag I can use?”

“Washcloths are in the towel closet behind you.” Killian nodded and grabbed a teal washcloth and wet it with cold water and some soap. He wrung it out to even the soap covering and turned to Emma.

“Sorry if this hurts. It’s just soap and water, but you never know.” He waited for Emma’s signal that she was ready before he turned his attention to her scraped leg. He dropped to his knees as he gently placed the cloth over the first and highest scrape, cleaning it out carefully and working his way down, stopping to rewash the cloth every so often. The blood had pretty much dried through the rest of the game, but it was staining the towel red. Killian finished cleaning up her leg, and he washed off the cloth once more before asking where her laundry was so he could put the pink-stained cloth in there. After dropping the cloth in the laundry basket, Killian came back to Emma and started opening Band-Aids.

“Thanks for this, Killian.”

He stopped what he was doing and smiled at her.

“Of course, Swan.” He turned back to opening the Band-Aid wrapper in his hand. “And I know you could have done this yourself, but you don’t have to. I hope you know that.”

Her voice was barely a whisper. “Yeah. I’m figuring that out.”

“And you didn’t have to ditch the rest of the group just because I was.” He put down the open Band-Aid in his hand and looked at her. “You didn’t do that because I asked you to, right?”

“Don’t worry, Killian. I’m not really in the mood to spend all my money on bubble gum and candy.”

“And I really don’t need to see Scarlet puke up multi-colored Slurpee.” They both laughed.

“That too.” Neither of them did anything for a moment. “Besides,” Emma broke the silence and looked at the ground before bringing her eyes back to Killian’s, “I have a box of Apollo bars downstairs. Ever since she found out it’s my favorite candy, Ingrid always keeps some in the house.”

“Well, you’ve definitely earned an Apollo bar, Swan. Stealing home! Do you know how hard that is?!” Killian put some antibiotic cream on the soft part of each of the bandages as he went on about what a great game they all played. Emma couldn’t keep her attention on his words because a thought was nagging at the back of her mind.

“Uh, Killian,” Emma frowned. “I want to tell you something. Just so you know.”

“Yeah, Swan?”

“Liam - he told me about you and Neal.” Killian nearly dropped the Band-Aid in his hand.

“He did?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. It wasn’t his story to tell. He just thought I should know why you all hate Neal so much.”

Killian put down the Band-Aid this time. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m not proud of it.”

“It’s okay,” Emma covered his left hand with her right. His hand twitched in response, but he didn’t pull away. She could feel the scars from where his hand had busted open; they would never go away completely. “I just wanted you to know that I know.” He nodded. “And Neal’s a jerk. He probably deserved it.” Emma laughed softly when Killian chuckled, a smile breaking out on his face.

“Thanks, Swan.” They shared a smile before Killian brought his attention back to the task at hand. “So all these bandages have cream on them to keep your scrapes from getting infected.” He grabbed one and again looked to Emma for a cue to start. She nodded and he put the first Band-Aid on her knee, then the rest where the scrapes were the worst. After he finished, he threw the wrappers in the trash and put the cream back in the first-aid kit. “All done.”

“Thank you, Killian.” There was more comfortable silence as Killian returned the first-aid where he got it.

“Ready to watch some baseball?”

“Yeah. Totally. Want an Apollo bar?” She asked as they made their way back downstairs.

He stopped just short of the last couple steps. She almost fell on top of him. “You’d share your favorite candy with me?”

“Sure.”

“Um, yeah. That’d be great.” Emma noticed his ears turning pink before he turned around and found a spot on her couch. Emma grabbed two Apollo bars from the kitchen and took a seat next to him as he found a game to watch on TV.

And watching the game with Killian was just like the first time - Killian interrupting the game with trivia and stats while Emma took everything in, both the game and Killian. ---- Ingrid came home in the middle of the eighth inning.

“Emma, I’m home!”

“In here, Ingrid!” Emma’s mother walked in the living room to find Emma and Killian sitting next to each other on the couch, two empty Apollo bar wrappers on the coffee table in front of them.

“Hi there, Killian. Nice to see you again.”

“You too, Mrs. Swan,” Killian smiled at Ingrid.

“Please, it’s Ingrid, especially now that you’re best friends with my daughter.” She picked up the candy wrappers and threw them away as Killian blushed ever so slightly and reassured her he’d call her Ingrid from then on, though they both knew he wouldn’t. “Killian,” Ingrid called from the kitchen, “would you like to stay for dinner?”

He muted the television and shifted so he was facing the kitchen. “I don’t want to inconvenience your family.”

“It wouldn’t be an inconvenience. You’re welcome to stay if you’d like. I’ll call your mom.”

Killian turned to Emma to see if she’d like him to stay. That would make all the difference. She nodded enthusiastically. “Stay.”

“I’d love to, Mrs. Swan - err, Ingrid.”

“Great! I’ll call your mom to let her know.”

“Thank you, Ingrid,” he said, feeling awkward as he said it. Emma laughed beside him as he unmuted the television. Since Ingrid got home, Emma was hyper-aware of everything going on - the game on the television, the pull of the Band-Aids on her skin every time she bent or straightened her leg, her foster mother chatting gleefully with Killian’s mom on the phone, Killian’s shoulder still touching hers as he alternated between getting lost watching the game and spouting out fun facts. Her senses all seemed to be on high alert, so much so that she nearly jumped when Ingrid called her name from the kitchen.

“Emma,” Ingrid called again.

“Yeah, hi. Sorry! Tuned out for a second.”

“No problem, sweetie. Could you set the table? Your father will be home soon.”

“Sure.” Emma told Killian he could keep watching as she stood up and made her way to the kitchen. She made her way to the drawer with the silverware as Ingrid checked the spaghetti on the stove.

“Did you have a good day, Em?”

“Yeah. We played against some rich jerks and we totally crushed them.” She started putting forks on the table when Ingrid turned around and noticed Emma’s bandaged leg for the first time.

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“What?” Emma had honestly forgotten about her scrapes because they didn’t hurt anymore.

“Your leg, honey.”

“Oh. I just scraped it sliding home.” She couldn’t quite keep from smiling at the accomplishment.

“You scored?” Ingrid’s voice was filled with pride. Emma nodded, grinning harder.

“I stole home.” Ingrid dropped the spoon she was holding into the saucepan on the stove as she rushed over to Emma to hug her.

“Congratulations, Emma.”

“Thanks.” Emma’s cheeks turned pink as she glanced downward.

“We’ll have to celebrate. Ice cream for dessert? Any toppings you want!”

“Wow! Thank you!” Ingrid looked at her foster daughter, smiling from ear to ear before going back into worried mom mode.

“Did you clean off the scrapes?”

Emma nodded again. “Yeah. Killian washed them out and put that anti-infection cream on them when he put the Band-Aids on it.”

“Killian did that?”

“Yeah. I told him I could do it and he didn’t have to.”

“That was very gentlemanly of him, don’t you think?” Ingrid glanced over at Killian, still watching baseball on the couch.

“It was nice of him.”

“He’s a good friend to you.”

Emma followed Ingrid’s gaze to Killian, still sitting on the couch watching the game. “The best.” ---- Emma was drawing at the desk in her room when she heard something knock against the window. She shook it off and ignored it. And then it happened again. And again. Emma put her pencil down and rushed to her window expecting to sese Killian. Instead, she saw Neal.

She cracked her window open just barely and crossed her arms, not giving him the satisfaction of her coming down to meet him.

“What do you want, Neal?”

“Come down here, Ems. It’ll be much easier to talk to you.”

“And if I don’t want to talk to you?”

“Please.” She knew he knew there was nothing he could really do if she refused. She was in control. She sighed and put up her hand to tell him to wait there as she headed to her backyard.

“What are you doing here?”

“I have a proposal for you.” She said nothing, only raised her eyebrows in question. “How would you like to play on a real baseball diamond all the time?”

“I don’t…”

“I want you on my team, Ems.” She shivered at the way he used a nickname for her.

“I already have a team.”

“Yeah, but how are you supposed to get better when you play with a bunch of losers?”

“They’re not losers. You seem to be forgetting they - we kicked your team’s butt.” She definitely bruised his ego with that one; he was bad at hiding that fact. “Plus, they’re my friends.”

“Sure. Friends. But stealing home, Ems - no one on my team would even think of it. It’s impressive. We could use you.”

“I’m happy where I am.”

“Talent like yours deserves to be realized on a diamond, not a dusty clearing.”

“It’s not talent. Killian taught me.”

“Ems, I’ve seen you. You can play.”

“Killian took a chance on me when I couldn’t even throw a ball. I’ll never abandon him. If it weren’t for Killian, I wouldn’t be playing anywhere. Not even the sandlot.”

“I don’t think you’re getting this. You could play for a good, real team on a real field.”

“Actually, you’re not getting it. I don’t want to play with any other team. I like the one I have. We might not play on a real diamond, but we’re friends. Besides, the sandlot’s not so bad.”

“We could be your friends, too, Ems.”

“First of all, stop calling me that. I hate that nickname...”

“Little Jones gives everyone nicknames.”

“Killian calls most of us by our last names. His nickname thing is treating us like we’re all professional players. He sees life as a ball game.”

“Well, isn’t it?” He caught her off guard. “Life throws us pitches - fastballs, curveballs - and we decide if we’re going to let it pass or swing for the fences. And I’m pitching you a change-up. Come play with us. You’ll still have your old friends.”

“No thanks, Neal. I’m going to go back inside now.”

“You’re going to regret this.”

“I really don’t think I will.” ---- “Emma, the Joneses are here!” Ingrid yelled for Emma to come to the door.

“I’m here, Ingrid,” Emma answers as she rushes down the stairs.

“You have everything?”

“I put sunscreen on. I have my phone. I have some money. Mrs. Jones has my ticket.”

“Here, honey.” Ingrid rummaged around through her wallet and pulled out some bills. “This is for food. This is for your ticket. Alice will probably refuse, but offer it.” Emma nodded her understanding. “And this,” Ingrid pulled out some extra money and handed it to her daughter, “is for anything you might see that you want.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “Thank you so much, Ingrid!” Overcome with emotion, Emma surged forward and hugged her foster mom.

“Have a great time, Emma.” Emma pulled away and opened the door to find Killian standing there waiting for her.

“I will, Ingrid,” she answered as she waved and closed the door behind her.

“Good afternoon, Swan.”

“Hey, Killian.”

“Ready for your first game?”

“Yeah. I’m so excited!”

He led her to his mom’s car and opened the car door for her. “After you, Swan.”

“Thanks, Killian.” She sat and said hello to Liam and Alice in the front of the car. “Thanks for bringing me, Ms. Alice. I have money for my ticket.”

“Nonsense, Emma. You’re our guest. Thank you for offering, but no that you’ll never have to pay when we invite you. We’re happy to have you here with us.”

“Well, thank you so much.”

There was some awkward silence as Alice pulled away from Emma’s house and onto the road.

“So, Swan, we’re going to Citi Field. The New York Mets play there. Today, they’re playing the Los Angeles Dodgers.” Killian listed facts about the stadium and the field until Emma interrupted him.

“Can I ask a stupid question - no judgement?”

“Sure, Swan.”

“Are we rooting for the Mets or the Dodgers?”

Killian opened his mouth to answer, but Liam beat him to it. “That is not a stupid question, Emma, because my brother here is a fan of literally every baseball team in the major league. And minor leagues.”

Killian closed his mouth.

“Well, Emma,” Alice started, peeking at Emma through her rear-view mirror, “we’re in New York, so most of the people there are going to cheer for the Mets, but you can cheer for whoever you want.”

Emma muttered a quiet “thanks” and glanced at Killian, who shrugged, nonverbally agreeing with what his mom said. Emma noticed Killian’s blue Mets hat, so she made the decision to just go with the crowd. When it was clear Alice and Liam were done interrupting, Killian started spouting player and team stats. Emma listened, but she didn’t understand what most of the numbers meant. She’d look up baseball stats when she got home. But for now, Emma listened to Killian and ignored Alice’s smiles in the rear-view mirror and Liam’s glances into the back of the car. ----

When they got to the stadium, Emma’s excitement receded just a tad to nervousness. There was already a large crowd at the gates. There was a massive sea of blue - blue shirts, blue hats - all with dashes of orange somewhere on them. It would be so easy to get lost. She should’ve expected that from a Saturday night game.

Perceptive as ever, Killian linked his arm with Emma’s so they wouldn’t get separated. They followed Alice and Liam to a line. When they claimed a space in one of the lines to get in, Emma looked around, already struggling to take it all in. There were just so many people around, and she could barely register anything other than that.

“You alright, Swan?”

Her mouth was dry so she just nodded.

“We’ve got awesome seats. They’re just past third base.” He was talking about baseball as he normally would, but Emma knew he was just talking now to make her more comfortable. She listened to him and kept her eyes switching between Alice and Liam in front of them and Killian beside her, and, finally, she started to relax. Killian was only halfway through listing his favorite ballpark foods when the line started moving at a consistent pace. Unconsciously tightening her arm with Killian’s, she walked forward, never allowing more than a few inches between herself and Alice. Alice handed the stadium employee their four tickets, and the group passed through the turnstile.

Emma was officially in an MLB stadium for the first time in her life.

Alice decided they should find their seats before they break up to get food and souvenirs, so Emma followed closely behind as they entered the maze of sections and food vendors and Mets shops. She didn’t know what to focus on as they passed a hot dog stand, then section 108, then a nacho stand, then a souvenir stand. She was assaulted by the smell of hot dogs and beer, and she found she could get used to it pretty quickly.

“Wow,” she mumbled to herself.

“Pretty cool, right?” Killian was beaming.

“How do you know what to do with yourself? There’s so much.”

“Lots of practice. Or coming with someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“Lucky I’m here with you then, huh?”

Emma found it hard to look at him while they spoke, as they had to make sure they didn’t lose the older Joneses. That also didn’t stop her from trying.

“Well,” Killian never finished his thought. She knows he would’ve been scratching his ear if he could. Alice paused in front of a section - section 122. Killian grinned at Emma as Alice worked the tickets out of her purse. He spoke softly, “I feel lucky to be here when you experience your first game.” Oh, so that was the end of that thought. Emma nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I wouldn’t be here if not for you.” She considered telling him about Neal asking her to join his team, but ultimately decided she didn’t want to ruin his day. This was special for him. Who was she to be a downer? She’d tell him another day.

“Swan?” He swiped his hand in front of her face.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s alright. I know it’s overwhelming.”

“Yeah.”

“Ready to find our seats?”

“Absolutely,” she smiled. He tugged on her arm, still linked with his, to get her to walk with him. They eventually had to separate arms to head down the stairs to their seats, but when they all sat down, Emma’s hand landed on Killian’s on the arm rest they shared as she took it all in. “It’s huge!”

Killian kept his eyes trained on Emma as she looked around the stadium from her seat very close to the field. He let out a breath of relief as he noticed her smiling. “Not too much?”

“Maybe, but I’ll get used to it. This is,” she bit her lip as she tried to find the right words. When she didn’t find them, she just went with the first adjective that came to her mind. “So cool.”

“Killian,” Alice took Killian’s attention off Emma momentarily, “why don’t you and Emma stay here while Liam and I get some early dinner. Then you two can go when we get back.”

“Sounds good, Mum.” Alice gave Killian his and Emma’s tickets and grabbed Liam’s sleeve to drag him out of his seat.

Emma was still in the moment. She watched the grounds crew work on the field, painting straight white lines on the dirt. In the outfield, she caught sight of some players practicing throws. She didn’t know people could throw that far. And the baseball diamond was way bigger than the one they played on against Neal. Thoughts danced through her head as she tried to imagine getting to play on a real diamond like that every day. She looked to the scoreboard. The Mets logo was front and center on the screen, and there was a countdown to the game in smaller numbers below. They had gotten there really early.

“They don’t look as big as I thought they would,” Emma pointed to the players on the field.

“But wait ‘til you see what they can do! They throw over a hundred miles an hour!”

“Scarlet can’t do that.”

“Not even close.” They both laughed. “And when they hit a home run, Swan, it goes all the way out of the park over there.”

Emma’s gaze followed his finger. “That’s ridiculously far!”

“I want to be able to do that one day.”

“If anyone can, it’s you. You’re the best player I know.”

“I don’t know, Swan. I’m okay in the sandlot, but in the major leagues?”

“What do you mean?” She finally turned to look at Killian for the first time since before they sat down.

“After the whole fight between Neal and me, my hand was messed up. My mum took me to physical therapy three times a week while it healed. I told them I wanted to be a baseball player, but they said I might never be able to use my hand completely normally.” Emma could see how painful that was for Killian to admit. He found it hard to keep his eyes on Emma’s.

“But that doesn’t make sense,” she started talking without thinking. “You’re the best player in the neighborhood, maybe even the state.”

“It still hurts sometimes when I use it too much. It cramps a lot. Or when the skin stretches too much.” He brought his left hand from the armrest and showed Emma. She’d never gotten a good look at it before. She was still unconsciously holding his right hand.

“So what if you can’t use your hand totally normally? You’re good - the best. And if you want to, you will end up here.”

“You really think so, Swan?”

“I know it.”

“Thank you, truly.”

---- “Any idea what you might want to eat, Swan?” Killian led Emma up the stairs and back into the covered stadium halls.

“None at all. Any recommendations?”

“There’s your classic ballpark food - hot dogs, nachos, burgers, popcorn, Cracker Jack, ice cream, pretzels.” He pointed to concession stands as they walked by. “There are also chicken tenders and barbeque and pizza and stuff like that.” Killian led Emma to a part of the stadium with sit-down restaurants and fancier-looking stands. “But we’ve also got some special food. It’s more expensive, but it’s supposed to be good. There’s deli sandwiches, seafood, and all kinds of other stuff if you want to sit down.”

Emma looked around at everything trying to examine all her options before deciding.

“Anything you want, Swan, it’s on us. My mum said not to let you pay, so don’t even ask.”

Emma opened her mouth to argue but knew it would be pointless. “Fine. Thanks, Killian.” He nodded in response, clearly waiting for her to make a decision. She glanced around her some more, still debating her options. The specialty food smelled amazing, but she wasn’t paying, and she didn’t want to take advantage of Alice’s generosity. Not to mention she kinda wanted to go back to her seat so she could have the real stadium experience.

“I like it all. I’ll eat anything you want,” Killian added, hoping to relieve some of the pressure off Emma.

“Do you want to share? Like, I get one thing and you get one thing and we, you know, split it?” Emma watched the smile slowly spread over Killian’s face.

“You’re bloody brilliant, Swan. This way, you can try even more food.”

“You’re the expert. What should we get to share?”

“What about chicken tenders and a hot dog? Liam usually caves and gets nachos during the seventh inning stretch, so we can steal some of his.”

“Yeah, okay. Sounds good.”

“I know you’ve had chicken tenders and hot dogs before.” Killian froze mid-walk. “Wait. Have you?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, Killian. I’ve had those before.” She felt the breath he let out in relief.

“Well, these hot dogs and chicken tenders are different. They’re better somehow.”

“I trust you.”

“Hey, we should look at merch before we get the food so it’s easier to carry and doesn’t get cold.” Emma shrugged and gestured for Killian to lead the way. He took them to a Mets store next to a concession stand closer to their section. They had ended up pretty far away when they wandered around debating dinner.

“One condition of me going in there, Killian.” He raised an eyebrow in silent question. “You have to let me pay for my own stuff here. Ingrid gave me money to get myself something I see that I want.”

Killian considered her proposition for a moment. “Okay. Deal.”  

The two walked into the little store together. Emma had no clue what she wanted. Maybe she’d get a hat or a glove so she could stop using Killian’s. With that in mind, she went to the gloves.

“Swan, what are you doing? You have a glove.”

“Your glove. If I get one, you can have your old one back.”

“It doesn’t fit me anymore. It’s my old glove. It’s perfect on you.” Emma didn’t really have a response. He told her as much when he gave her his glove, but she had always planned to give it back to him. “Look, Swan, why don’t you get something you actually want, not something you think you need?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. The glove was a gift. And so was the hat, so don’t even think about it. Although you can never have too many hats.” Emma accepted that he wasn’t going to let her give anything back, but she wasn’t wearing at hat at the moment and she wanted to get one to keep the sun out of her eyes. Not to mention, she could get herself a hat, which would be special for her to have something she got for herself.

“I might get another hat.”

“Yeah?” Emma nodded, walking toward a wall full of nothing but hats. She found a few that she loved, but she made her final choice pretty easily. And since the hat she chose was actually on sale, she ended up getting the hat and a baseball signed by the entire team - well, the entire team pre-season, which isn’t the same as the current team, but still cool. Killian got a few packs of baseball cards and a signed baseball for himself. He also used some of the allowance money he’d saved up to get a jersey.

“Jerseys are expensive.”

“That’s why I saved up so much. This way, I get the jersey and I still have some money left over.”

“Smart.” There was silence as they took their bags full of new stuff and headed over to get food. “The jersey looks good on you. You’re totally going to play one day. And people are going to spend an absurd amount of money to wear your jersey.”

His response was so quiet, Emma could barely hear it, but he was smiling. “Thanks, Swan.”

She could sense him getting emotional, so she decided to spare him. “So food?”

“Aye.” And just like that, they were back to normal. He bought them a hot dog and chicken tenders with fries. Emma wrapped both their merch bags around her wrist as she put ketchup, mustard, and relish on the hot dog because Killian told her she needed the full experience. Handing the hot dog back to Killian, she got them both little cups of ketchup for their chicken tenders and fries. She got a couple cups of barbeque sauce as well because, as Killian put it, why not?

Balancing all the food and condiments, they made their way back to their seats. Emma was thankful Killian remembered exactly where they sat without consulting the tickets or asking for help. She might not have gotten back on her own.

“You two made out well,” Alice stood up to let the kids through to their seats.

“Emma got a hat and a baseball signed by the whole team pre-season.”

“That’s great, Emma!”

“Um, thanks for the food, Ms. Alice. I could have paid.”

“I know, dear. You’re still our guest. You aren’t paying for food.” Alice smiled at Emma, and Emma smiled back. “And I hope you’ll let me get you a snack later - ice cream or cotton candy or popcorn or something.”

“Sure.” Emma’s smile grew.

“Let’s eat while the food’s still hot, Swan.” Emma’s attention switched from Alice to Killian. “You should start with the hot dog.”

“Okay. So I’ll eat half then?”

“Perfect.” She traded the condiments for the hot dog. He put the cups in the chicken tender basket and she finally took a bite.

With a mouthful of hot dog, she commented, “okay, this really is better.”

“I would never lie to you, Swan.” Emma swallowed and kept her eyes on her best friend for a silent moment before just going for another bite. Killian dipped a chicken tender in barbeque sauce and bit it off. It had been silent for too long, so Killian spoke, “have a fry.” Emma took a fry from his basket and dipped it in ketchup. The fry was still hot, but she found she didn’t mind the grease burn. She shoved the rest of the fry into her mouth after it had been exposed to the air for a few seconds before finishing her half of the hot dog.

“No other hot dog will ever be as good as a real, stadium hot dog.”

“Then we’ll just have to come back and get more.” Killian took the hot dog. She reached into the basket on his lap and took a chicken tender. They ate in relative silence as the players stopped practicing on the field and went back to their locker rooms.

They managed to finish their shared dinner approximately five minutes before the game was set to start. Emma got her hat out of her bag and put it on.

“The hat suits you.”

“Thanks.” Killian changed the subject and pointed to the dugouts. They could see a couple players going in and out, and Killian was already starting to get starstruck. And when the teams were introduced, Killian was practically vibrating with excitement. Liam laughed every time Killian cheered loudly or shouted comments on the players. Emma was amused at the whole situation. It did really feel like the players were celebrities with those introductions. She felt her breath being taken away as some of the players ran out onto the field. It really was, as she put it earlier, so cool. When they were instructed to stand for the national anthem, Killian was nearly beaming. And Emma was entirely charmed at the way his hair stood up when he took his hat off as a result of wearing the hat from the moment he woke up that morning. She fought the urge to smooth it down for him. Before she could dwell on that thought too much, they were sitting down again and the game was underway.

Emma was particularly fascinated with the pitch speeds. And when the first home run was hit by a Mets player, she nearly flinched at the loud crack of the bat. She watched the ball fly out of the park. Amazed, she leaned over to Killian and asked, “how do they do that?”

“They’re insanely talented at baseball.”

“So are you.”

“But this is so much bigger than the sandlot.” Emma said nothing. “They practice. They play baseball their entire lives and they only ever dream of ending up here.”

Killian started whispering predictions of plays into Emma’s ear, most of which actually pan out. When she adjusted to the depth perception change from their seats near third base, Emma started calling plays under her breath as they happened. Killian was impressed with her accuracy. For someone who couldn’t even throw a ball, she was a fast learner.

When a foul ball landed on the field directly in front of her, the ball boy threw the ball into the stands in their direction. It seemed to land directly in Killian’s hands, and he instantly gave it to her.

“I want you to have it. It’s your first game. It’s special.”

“You caught it. I can’t take it from you.”

“I want you to have it. Please.” She took the ball from his outstretched hand.

“Thank you, Killian. Seriously, thank you.”  She held onto the ball for two entire innings until, like Killian predicted, Liam came back with nachos in the seventh inning. Grumbling as Killian started stealing salsa- and cheese-covered chips, Liam offered the nachos to Emma. Putting her ball in her bag for safekeeping, she thanked Liam as she took a chip from the top with barely any cheese, but a big jalapeno on top.

“Emma, are you sure? That’s a jalapeno. It’s super spicy.”

“I like spice,” she reassured Liam. He still looked unsure. She ate the chip and jalapeno in one bite. She didn’t even flinch.

“Wow, I’m impressed.” Liam held the nachos out to her again. “You can eat my nachos whenever you want, especially if you eat the jalapenos.” Emma took another chip, but this time there was some salsa and cheese as well as a jalapeno. She crunched the chip and turned back to Killian, offering him another chip she grabbed when Liam offered.

“Thanks, Swan.” He took the chip from her and ate it. “I can’t believe you can eat jalapenos like that. I thought I was the only one.”

“You like jalapenos, too?”

“Aye. That’s the only reason Liam gets them.” She snagged Killian a toppings-covered chip with a juicy jalapeno sitting on top.

“How come Liam doesn’t want to share with you then? I mean, if he gets them for you, why was he all grumpy about you taking his chips?”

“He wants me to eat only the jalapenos.” They both laughed. “Sometimes I just want a couple chips, too.” They both ate chips for a minute. “Also...” there was a glob of cheese stuck to Killian’s lip. He licked it off. “...I’m his younger brother. Of course he doesn’t want to share with me.” Emma winked at Killian and snagged him some of Liam's chips under the guise they were for her.

After polishing off the nachos, Emma and Killian headed out to get some snacks during a pitching change.

“Any clue what you want?”

“Actually, I was thinking ice cream.”

“Perfect.” Killian walked up to the concession stand and ordered an ice cream and a soft pretzel. When the chocolate and vanilla swirled ice cream was handed to Emma, she was delighted to find it served in a miniature Mets helmet.

“This is so cool!” She held up the helmet bowl so Killian could see it. He chuckled.

“When you finish the ice cream, you can wash the helmet out and keep it.”

“I will. That’s awesome! Who thought of that?”

“No idea, love, but I have, like, 4 different ice cream helmets. It’s fantastic.” Killian thanked the concessions worker for the pretzel and they went back to their seats. He offered her a piece of the pretzel, and she offered him some ice cream in return. Emma loved them both, but she was glad she got most of the ice cream. It had been a hot afternoon, and it was only just starting to cool down as the night took over. Emma loved the way the bright stadium lights sparkled in Killian’s blue eyes, and she may have caught him watching her a couple times. She wanted to experience this moment of the stars coming out and the stadium lights going on more often. There was something extremely satisfying about a night game.

Her experience was made even better when the Mets pulled a win and the whole stadium roared with cheers. Her cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling, but she was so happy to cheer along with everyone else.

When Emma was dropped back home, Ingrid had to tell her to slow down so she and Arthur could understand everything Emma was telling them about the day. Arthur smiled and added some commentary of different aspects of the ballpark experience Emma mentioned. Arthur even offered her some unused ball cases for her game-used ball and her signed ball.

Emma got ready for bed, a few new additions to her room, as Arthur walked by to wish her goodnight.

“I’m glad you had a great day, Emma.”

“It was, Arthur. It really was. Thank you.”

“Maybe we could go to a game together," he suggested. He and Emma hadn't really bonded much since the black eye incident, and Emma could think of nothing better than going to a game with him.

“I’d love that.” She heard his relieved exhale. She wasn't just a meal ticket. Her new parents actually wanted to spend time with her.

“Goodnight, Emma.”

“Well this ought to be good,” he muttered to himself, leaning back against the wall. “M’lady,” he said with a smirk. “This ought to be an interesting proposition with that gentleman right beside you. Must be quite the boring marriage then, eh?”

“We should just go,” the man hissed to the woman.

“No, David, we need to do this,” the woman replied sadly.  “We need to do this for Emma.” She sat in front of Killian and looked up at the man who accompanied her. With a sigh, the man sat down and held her hand with a sigh.

“Captain Hook. I understand that you have one of the fastest ships in all the realms,” the woman started, “and are an incredibly fearsome pirate captain.”

“Aye,” Killian replied, leaning back in his chair. “You heard correctly. And well done trying to flatter my ego, love.” He crossed his arms, trying to figure out who this woman was. He’d seen her face before, he was sure of it.

“We need passage for two to Arendelle,” David cut in roughly. “Can you do it or not?” The woman squeezed his hand softly and gave him a look of rebuke.

“And what do you need to go to Arendelle for? I’d hate to get caught up in something untoward. Or worse yet, one of Queen Elsa’s infamous blizzards,” Killian responded wryly, looking back and forth between the couple.

“You’re a pirate with a reputation longer than my sword, what do you care about propriety?” David demanded, slamming his hand on the table.

“David!” the woman said exasperatedly. She turned to Killian and added, “We just need safe passage away from the Evil Queen for our daughter and another family member.”

“Snow, it’s clear he won’t take this seriously, we should just-” David started, but Snow held her hand up for silence.

It was then that Killian understood. Before him sat the King and Queen of Misthaven. And they were asking him for a favor. A centuries old sting resurfaced as he remembered Liam, and he instantly declined their request. “Sorry, I don’t do favors for royals.”

David started to get upset but Snow didn’t seem flustered in the least. “Of course you will, because we’re going to pay you for your time and troubles. What is your price?” she said calmly, sitting straight up and looking him in the eye. She took her hood off so that there was nothing stopping Killian from making direct eye contact with her. “You know who we are, and so you know money is no hardship for us.”

Her stare was hard and confident. In spite of himself, Killian found himself grinning. He quite liked her spunk. “Fifteen thousand gold coins,” he said, leaning in. “And if I’m granted asylum in your kingdom, I’ll have your family there in two weeks. Do we have an accord?”

“Yes,” Snow said immediately, flourishing a paper.

“You had that made already? How did you know I would accept? How did you know that’s what I would ask for?” Killian asked bemusedly, reading over the terms to make sure they were up to snuff.

“I’d be a pretty poor Queen and an even worse bandit if I didn’t know my mark,” Queen Snow responded with a smirk of her own. When Killian returned the paper to her, she signed and pulled her hood back up. “Thank you, Captain. Your cargo will arrive at the dock at midnight tomorrow night.”

Queen Snow was gone before he could blink, but King David moved more slowly. “This is my daughter, my family you’re in charge of, pirate,” he told Killian, making sure to tower over him. “And whatever deal you have struck with my wife will be undone if anything happens to my daughter, do you understand me?”

“You have my word,” Killian replied, holding his hands up in surrender.

“You are protecting my family, my life,” the King told Killian fiercely. “And I don’t know if you’d understand what a man like me would do for his family. What I am willing to do for my family. So I need you to protect them like I would. Do you understand?”

Somehow, he understood.

–

A gentle footfall at the bottom of the gang plank grabbed his attention. The clear sky and bright moon above weren’t quite enough to illuminate the emerald green cloak making its way up to the deck of his ship. Remnants of dead leaves clung to the cloak’s hem as the figure came closer.

Killian knew that this was the woman, the princess he had been waiting for. He still couldn’t believe that the King and Queen of the realm had entrusted their daughter’s life to the notorious Captain Hook. 

Moreover, he still couldn’t believe he’d agreed to do this. 

But then the King’s pleading words about his family, and the fire in his eyes when talking about what he’d do for them, rang through his mind. He snorted. 

“What’s so funny, pirate?" 

The hood of the cloak revealed Princess Emma, just as imperious as he’d thought she’d be, glowering down at him. Now that she was closer, he could see she only carried a pack on her back, and a heavy bundle in her arms. 

He’d already decided that he could wipe that look off of her face no problem. Just because he had agreed to protect her and grant her safe passage, didn’t mean he couldn’t rile her up a little bit. 

"Nothing, your highness,” Killian said with a smirk. “Though, I must say, green certainly is your color." 

"I am a princess, and you will show me the respect owed to me by that title,” she told him briskly.

The scowl that formed on her face only caused his smirk to deepen. Although, two weeks together with that attitude was going to be torture, he could already tell. He wasn’t wrong though. The green of the cloak highlighted the green of her eyes, and her golden, wavy hair certainly stood out against the darkness of the cloak.

“I am here because I was promised safe passage to Arendelle,” she said, stepping closer to him. “Nothing more. Am I clear?" 

"Crystal,” he said, leaning into her, and she took a step backward. Before he knew it, she had dropped the bundle in her arms and he was up against the mast with a knife to his throat. “Ooh, you are a tough lass aren’t you?” he drawled at her. 

“Mama?” The pack on her back rustled and a little face with brown eyes peered back at him. “Mama, what’s going on?" 

Killian’s eyes widened. He remembered that the King had requested passage for two, but he had assumed that another adult would be joining them. It occurred to him then that the princess had carried her son on her back, all the way from the castle. He found himself momentarily awed by the young woman before him and her fortitude and bravery. 

Prince Henry was Princess Emma’s five year old son, born from a torrid affair with the Dark One’s son, Baelfire. Killian now suspected that part of Rumplestiltskin and Regina’s combined alliance and pursuit of the throne had something to do with the boy, given Baelfire’s untimely death. Knowing all that, he couldn’t help but be impressed with the bold young woman’s dedication to keeping her son protected. 

Emma stepped away from him and knelt down so Henry could clamber off her back. She winced slightly as bony elbows and knees collided with her side. "I was just making something clear to our host,” she told her son sweetly, picking him up and settling him on her hip. “Isn’t that right, Captain?” At this, she fixed Killian with a hard glare, her chin held high just like her mother had in the tavern. 

“Aye,” Killian said, bowing to the prince and princess. “Captain Hook at your service.” He couldn’t help the smile as Henry whispered to his mother that this man was a pirate. But the whisper wasn’t filled with anger or disgust. It was filled with wonder and excitement. 

“Yes. Captain Hook.” Her voice lingered hesitantly on his moniker. “He’ll be taking us to visit your Auntie Elsa in Arendelle. Won’t that be fun?” Henry nodded and she kissed his forehead. Her hand came to cup the back of Henry’s head protectively, which meant one thing to Killian: if anything happened to Henry, his neck would have a date with the gallows before he could blink. 

“A faster and safer ship in all the realms there isn’t, young master,” he boasted, putting in a little flare to make the boy giggle. “Now, allow me to show you to your room and we’ll begin our journey."  

Princess Emma bit her lip and cast a look behind her, whether a look of longing and farewell, or a look to make sure they hadn’t been followed he wasn’t sure, before nodding resolutely.   

Before leading them down the stairs to his own quarters, he lingered on deck to tap his foot three times against the gangplank. This was a signal to the crew to begin prepping the ship for departure as silently as they could. They needed to be off before any of Regina’s spies or soldiers could find them. 

"The Captain’s quarters,” he told them. He’d tidied up, and set up an additional hammock beside his bed, glad he had done so. 

“You’re giving us your room?” the princess asked, turning to him. “But where will you sleep?” She seemed touched, the hauteur she had shown him starting to slip away. 

And he couldn’t have that, he had a reputation to uphold, after all. Letting a princess see the softer side of him was not on his agenda at all. “Worried about me are you?” he leered. “Well, I could stay here and protect you and the lad if you’d like." 

Emma rolled her eyes, an action that was decidedly not princess-like, and asked in exasperation, "Do you ever stop flirting? It’s already boring and tiresome and I have only had the decided pleasure to be in your company for five minutes." 

Oh, this was going to be fun. He had no idea the princess was a sharp wit as well as beautiful. He was about to reply, something to the effect of if he had more than five minutes he’d show her how pleasurable his company could be, when Henry piped up, "Mama, what’s flirting?" 

His face colored briefly, embarrassed that he’d been caught by a small child. Despite the teasing and prodding, it was bad form to flirt with a woman in front of her small child. 

He had hoped Emma hadn’t noticed the blush, but one look at her face told him that he hadn’t such luck. With a smirk of her own, Emma turned to Killian and said in a sickeningly sweet voice, "Why don’t you ask the Captain, Henry?"   

Damn this woman.

–

Emma’s eyes searched the cabin once Captain Hook left, really giving it an analytical eye. It was spacious enough for her to be comfortable, but the decorations and furniture were minimal. Beside the Captain’s bed and Henry’s hammock, there was a desk, a bookshelf that was practically overflowing, and a small table with two chairs.

She bit her lip, worrying for a moment there would be no place to safely hide her son. It was something she’d become used to in the years after Baelfire’s death. She never liked being in a place where Henry couldn’t hide, and several rooms in the palace were outfitted with fake drawers and hidden panels so Henry could hide in them as needed.

They had no such luxuries here.

Have I really done the right thing? Is fleeing on a pirate ship really safer than staying to fight the Evil Queen and the Dark One? Is being stuck with Captain Hook really the best option I have? she wondered.

Emma scowled, thinking of the overly flirtatious pirate captain that was going to be escorting them to Arendelle. She already couldn’t wait to leave him behind. He was irritating, the kind of irritating she’d seen many a times in court from men who were attractive and knew it.

Was Captain Hook really as attractive as he thought himself to be? With his too blue eyes, his scruffy cheeks, and the deep timbre of his voice…not that Emma noticed.

“He’s not that attractive anyway,” she muttered to herself, her cheeks turning pink when the echo of her words reached her ears. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud, especially not in front of Henry.

Shaking her head, she bit her lip again, trying to reorient herself with her original task: finding Henry a safe hiding place.

Henry clung to her skirt, his anxious face mirroring his mother’s almost exactly. She looked down at him and ran her hand through his hair before kneeling. “It’s okay, my Henry. We’re going to be just fine,” she soothed.

“Why aren’t Nana and Poppa coming with us?” Henry asked softly, linking his arms around her neck. Emma wrapped him up in a tight hug, cupping the back of his head.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she tried to focus on the warm weight of her son in her arms. He was so young, too young, to be caught up in all of this. She had gone most of her life without dealing with the harder parts of being heir to the throne.

“Why did we leave in the middle of the night? I know we are going to visit Auntie Elsa, but I’m scared, Mama,” he whispered into her ear.

“I know,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I know you’re scared. If I’m honest, Henry, I’m really scared too. But I promise that I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“This isn’t a regular visit to Auntie Elsa, is it?” Henry murmured in a small voice, and Emma squeezed him tighter, her eyes still closed. She loved how perceptive he could be, but it was times like this she wished she could do more to shield him from everything, or that he could enjoy his childhood without having to worry.

“No, it’s not,” she told him, and her eyes opened so she could look him in the eye. She brushed his hair away from his eyes and added, “Nana and Poppa are staying in the castle so that they can make sure everyone is safe. You and I are leaving so that we can see if Auntie Elsa can’t help us keep our people safe.”

“Who will keep us safe?” Henry questioned.

“I will,” Emma promised, pressing her forehead to his. It was then that she saw a wardrobe out of the corner of her eye. She walked toward it and opened it, beckoning Henry closer. “If you ever feel frightened and Mama can’t protect you, you come hide in here, okay?” she murmured.

Henry nodded and then raised his arms silently asking to be held. Emma was more than happy to comply. Anxiety swirled in her gut as she thought of her parents. She squeezed Henry closer, trying to ignore the guilt that coursed through her. It was all her fault, she should be there to stay and fight.

But her parents had insisted that her main priority was Henry and that she needed to give him his best chance. They needed to give her, her best chance. And she supposed they were right.

But it didn’t make things any easier to be apart from them.

“Mama?” Henry yawned, jerking her out of her thoughts. “I don’t wanna sleep in the hammock. Can I sleep with you?” He cuddled in closer to her, all but burying his face against her neck. Her heart warmed and she smiled in spite of the melancholy she’d been feeling moments before.

“Of course you can sleep with me tonight. I know being in a new place is frightening. We’ll protect each other,” Emma murmured softly, laying him down on the bed. The mattress was softer than she anticipated, and she smiled as Henry snuggled more into it. She took clothes out of the other pack she had brought for the both of them. “Can you stay awake for your night clothes?” she asked.

Henry whined in response and Emma chuckled, quickly getting him changed. He was more of a hindrance than a help in that regard, but she couldn’t blame him for being so tired. It had been a lot for such a small boy in one day.

He seemed to be fast asleep by the time she tucked him underneath the blankets.

She took a little bit longer to change, making sure to blow out the candles in the cabin before she climbed into bed beside her son. The boy sleepily cuddled into her and she smiled, kissing his hair one more time.

“I love you, Henry,” she whispered. “More than all the stars in the sky and all the sands on the beach.”

“Love you too, Mama,” Henry mumbled back.

Emma found herself unable to sleep. The water hitting the hull of the ship and the creaking of the wood had her on edge. She squeezed Henry a little tighter, trying to ignore the pounding of her heart. All of these noises were strange, and not what she was used to when falling asleep.

She almost gave up on the endeavor of sleep until a whisper came at her door, “Princess, we’ve hit open waters. You know that stick in the mud? The one you brought on board? You can take it out now. I’ll keep you safe, just like I promised your parents I would.”

The gentle swaying of the ship and the tone of his voice, calm and amused, took some of her anxiety away. She liked that he was willing to fire back. Not many people in court, especially men , were willing to go toe to toe with her in a battle of wits.

Maybe this won’t be awful. The thought was soothing enough for her exhaustion to really hit her. For the first time since her castle, she felt almost… safe? She scowled, just imagining how smug the pirate captain would be if she admitted to feeling relaxed and safe. “Damn that man,” she mumbled, trying not to grin as her eyes fluttered shut.

–

The sun was barely up and he’d been at the helm all night. He’d gotten a fair distance from Misthaven’s main port, but he’d feel much better once they were closer to Arendelle.

“Captain, a word?” the princess demanded of him, her white nightgown billowing behind her as she walked up the steps to the helm.

He groaned to himself. It was too bloody early for whatever she was about to tell him. “When a woman says that, I find I’m rarely in for a pleasant conversation,” he muttered to himself, his hand tightening around the wheel as he looked over at the princess. Bowing mockingly, he said, “What can I do for you, love?”

The princess blinked rapidly and stopped in her tracks, thrown off by the term of endearment. “I am not your love,” she hissed. “I came to enquire about this. What is this?” the princess demanded, lifting his flask out from her robe. Rum splashed onto the deck and his lips pursed together.

“Rum,” he bit back. “And a bloody waste of it too.” He went to reach to take it back from her, but she lifted her hand away from him and more rum splashed onto the deck. “It’s my flask, princess, nothing more.”

“Were you going to drink this? With my son on board?” the princess demanded, lips pursed together. The hand that wasn’t holding his flask was perched on her hip. “I found this in the desk in my room. How could you be so irresponsible?”

He had to work hard to suppress the flare of anger that rose up in him. This is why he had stopped following royals. She hadn’t even been on his ship for more than a few hours and she was already claiming his room as her own.

“I’m not a servant of yours to command, princess, and it’s certainly not your room,” Killian drawled, leaning in toward Emma. Her scowl deepened but her cheeks turned pink as he got closer. “It’s my ship and I’ll do what I damn well please.” He grinned at her when he realized that she was flustered by how close he was to her. If this was going to happen every time they got close, it would be the most entertaining two weeks of Killian’s life.

His hook crept up to try and get his flask back, but looking into her green eyes caused him to falter. His moment of hesitance allowed Princess Emma to step out of his reach, her cheeks still flushed.

“I don’t want to see anyone drinking while I’m on board, am I clear?” she asked breathlessly. She turned around and began walking back to the cabin. And then she stopped, the autumn air standing still between them. “After you’ve had some rest and if you’re amenable, would you give Henry a tour of the ship? He’s very excited about being on an actual pirate ship,” she asked, not looking at him.

“As you wish, love,”  Killian drawled, snickering when she let out a huff of annoyance. He went back to the helm, humming to himself as he continued to steer the ship. The crew had started their day to day rituals, and Killian let the familiar footfalls and sounds calm him as he continued to steer.

The more calm he became, the heavier his eyes became. Falling asleep at the wheel wouldn’t bode well anyone, and he figured the crew could do without him for a few hours. “Smee,” Killian called. The man scurried up the steps to the helm. Before Smee could even respond, Killian said, “Take the helm, will you? I’m headed to my quarters for awhile.”

“Your quarters, Captain? Where the princess and her son are?” Smee asked.

“Could you ask any louder?” Killian barked, looking around furtively to make sure no one was stopping to openly listen to them. “I don’t think the bloody Dark One heard you!”

While the crew mostly knew the identity of the cargo aboard, he didn’t like the idea of openly discussing it. Something about mentioning Princess Emma and Prince Henry’s identities out loud made him incredibly nervous. He wasn’t sure what had caused the flare of panic to rise up within him, and he internally attributed it to a lack of sleep.

“Oh, right, your temporary quarters,” Smee replied, having the decency to look ashamed.

“Keep an eye on things,” Killian growled, and retreated to sleep.

–

A gentle knock on the door roused Killian from his sleep.

“Mr. Captain?” a tiny voice piped up from behind the door. “Mr. Captain? It’s Henry. Mama said you would show me around the ship. And I waited and did all my lessons. So please, Mr. Captain? Can we go now?”

Killian ran his hand over his face, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes. He laid there for a few more minutes, waking up. It was probably midday by his estimation. The knocking, soft but insistent, sounded again and he repressed a chuckle. He got up, starting to make himself mildly presentable.

“Quit pestering the Captain, boy!” someone growled at the little Prince, but it seemed the Prince would not be deterred.

“He promised I could have a tour of the ship!” Henry replied. “And I did all my lessons, so I can get my tour now.”

Opening the door, he could see Henry staring up at a man at least four times his size, arms crossed and scowling. The spitting image of his mother, Killian thought, but found that the thought didn’t come with a flair of irritation.

“Besides,” Killian replied, coming out of his room. “It’s bad form to back down from a promise, Starkey.” He bowed to Henry, who barely stifled a giggle. “Hello, young sir. Will you pardon me for sleeping in?” He smiled as Henry’s grin widened.

“It’s okay! Sleep is ‘mportant!” the boy said brightly. “I just wanted to see the ship real real bad!” Henry raced ahead to the stairs before racing back to Killian. “Can we go now?” he asked excitedly.  

“Yes, yes,” Killian murmured, stretching out the last of his sleepiness. “Let’s go.”

He led the way for Henry, who immediately sprinted to the ship’s railing once they were back on deck. Killian found himself standing beside the boy to make sure he wouldn’t fall in.

“Are we on the ocean?” Henry asked eagerly. “I’ve never seen the ocean before, cuz we’re stuck in the palace lots.” He leaned up on the railing thoughtfully before adding, “But I liked looking at the trees. ‘Specially when they changed colors. I like the fall, it’s my favorite. Do you like autumn? Did you know that autumn is another name for fall?” Henry looked up at Killian with a big and honest smile that Killian found himself reciprocating warmly.

In its own way, it was refreshing to hear the excited rambling of a child learning about the world for the first time. Henry’s friendly and curious nature made it easy to forget that he was a prince, destined to someday take over the land. And childish giggling? Well, it was something that hadn’t been heard on the Jolly Roger for quite some time.

“I like the autumn, yes,” Killian replied, leaning against the railing.

Henry peered thoughtfully out at the water, giggling whenever the ship made a particularly large splash against the waves. They stood there for awhile before Henry asked, “Have you been a pirate a very long time, Mr. Captain?”

“Aye, that I have,” Killian said. “Much longer than you’ve been alive.” Henry gasped loudly, and Killian continued, “Aye, I have stories from all my many adventures.”

“Can I have one as a bedtime story? Pretty please?” Henry pleaded.

“I suppose so, lad,” Killian chuckled.

“Tonight?” Henry pressed.

“I don’t see why not,” Killian continued.

“Do you promise?” Henry asked, putting his hand out for Killian to shake. Killian shook it, still marveling at this spitfire of a little prince. Henry shook his hand resolutely and said, “Good. Remember, ‘s bad form to go back on promises.”

The serious look on young Henry’s face was the only thing that kept Killian from laughing. It’d been awhile since his own words had been used against him. “Well played, Prince Henry, well played,” he praised, turning to look back over the water.

Henry copied him, looking serious and contemplative again. When Killian looked down, the boy looked up at him and asked, “What’s your name?”

“You know my name, lad. It’s Captain Hook,” Killian replied lightly.

“Your name name,” Henry said in exasperation. “Not your pirate name. I’d like to know your real name.” There was a heavy moment of silence and then: “Please, Mr. Captain? You know my name.”

“It’s Killian,” Killian said quietly. “Killian Jones.” He knelt down in front of Henry. “Very few people know my real name, so I’m trusting you not to tell another man alive. Do you understand?”

Henry nodded. “I promise! I promise not to tell, Killy-un!”

Killian smiled, giving the boy’s shoulder a gentle clasp. “Now, how would you like to go all the way up to the highest point of the ship?”

Henry’s gasp of excitement was worth it.

—

Emma wasn’t worried for her son’s safety.

Well, that was a lie. She was worried, but every so often a giggle or some of Henry’s chatter would float down to her and she let it calm her.

As long as Henry was chatty and giggly, he was happy. And if he was happy, that meant he wasn’t injured or scared. And if he wasn’t injured or scared, then he was safe.

There had been half a dozen times where it had been quiet for just a moment too long and Emma would bolt up and head to the door before hearing Henry again. And she would settle, pouring over maps of potential allies, and writing letters to anyone she hoped would listen and help her and her family.

Her foot bounced and she jumped again, this time opting to pace the length of the room. She supposed she could’ve gone up there with Henry and the captain, but that meant spending time with Captain Hook.

Since there was no one else around, she was more than willing to admit that Captain Hook was excellent with Henry. Some of her suitors in the past had been put off by her son, and she instantly made it clear to those men that if they couldn’t accept Henry then they could escort themselves out.

She had been incredibly worried when her parents told her they were leaving on a pirate ship. She’d been worried that the men on board wouldn’t know how to handle a small child, but by and large they seemed to be doing fine with Henry. And Henry was fascinated by all of it, which made Emma feel a little bit more relieved.

At least in that regard.

He was still a cocky, overly flirtatious man in Emma’s opinion.

Her fingers gently skimmed Killian’s flask, finding it easier to calm down as her fingers trailed the cold metal gently.

“We’re all right,” she whispered. “Everything’s–”

A pained cry sounded above her, followed by a loud thud, and she immediately leapt to her feet. Her heart all but seized in her chest because she knew that cry anywhere.

Henry!

Grabbing her sword, she raced up the stairs and flung the door open. Henry was sprawled out on his back, a little wooden sword beside him. Captain Hook stood over Henry, his own sword drawn.

“Back away from my son, you bastard!” Emma snarled, moving quickly. Her sword met Killian’s and the sound of ringing steel hung in the air. She thrust the sword wildly at Captain Hook. Her mind wasn’t on form, or even getting her opponent. She only wanted him away from Henry.

Captain Hook staggered a few paces backward, and that was enough time for her to swoop in and scoop Henry into her arms.

Settling him on her hip, she went back into their room and locked the door tight, her sword drawn as she tried to keep the other crewmen on the ship away from her. She settled Henry on the bed and wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Henry, are you okay?” Emma asked, her eyes frantically scanning her son for injuries. “Did he hurt you?” Henry shook his head and wrapped his arms around her for a hug. She cupped the back of his head and rested her head on his cheek. “I won’t let Captain Hook anywhere near you again,” she whispered.

“Mama–” Henry started, and she squeezed him tighter.

“That’s right,” she soothed, trying to calm the frantic beating of her own heart. “Mama’s right here. Mama’s got you. It’s okay. It’s all okay now…Mama won’t let anything happen to you ever again, okay? And Mama won’t let that awful pirate anywhere near you.” She pressed a kiss to his hair, thankful she’d gotten to Henry before something awful had happened.

“Mama–” Henry tried again, his voice muffled by her dress.

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby, we can talk later. Just let Mama hold you, okay? Remember how I told you when we first got here that I’m scared?” Emma whispered, her voice shaking a little bit. “Seeing you hurt makes me scared too.”

Henry nuzzled into her. “‘s okay, Mama,” he told her softly. “I’m not hurt. Don’t be scared. Everything’s okay now.”

Emma’s eyes filled with tears and she squeezed her boy even tighter to her. This boy was the light of her life, and anything happening to him would rip her to shreds. She was pretty sure that everyone knew it, and that included her enemies.

Was that why Captain Hook attacked my son?

The rest of the day was spent with Henry close by, and the overwhelming sense of dread and terror any time any set of footsteps sounded near the door. Henry seemed undaunted by the previous attack and any time she felt too afraid, she’d look over at her little boy, who was humming to himself and playing with his toy soldiers and she’d feel better.

As the sun began to set and she got ready for bed, there was a knock on their door.

“Princess Emma?” Captain Hook asked. “I’ve come to read the young prince a bedtime story…”

Emma flung open the door and glowered up at him. “The audacity!” she exclaimed, drawing herself to her tallest. “You attack my son–”

“I didn’t–” Captain Hook interjected.

“Mama–” Henry tried.

“Henry, not now baby,” Emma said patiently before whirling back to Killian ferociously. “You hurt him–”

“If I could just explain–”

“Mama,” Henry tried again.

“And now you want to read him a bedtime story? Who do you think you are?” Emma asked. “So help me, I will make sure you hang for this when we return home–”

“Mama!” Henry bellowed as loud as he could. Flabbergasted, both adults turned to the small boy. Embarrassed by the sudden silence and amount of attention, Henry ducked his head. “Killy-un didn’t ‘tack me,” he said shyly. “I asked him to teach me how to sword fight. I tripped when he was teachin’ me.”

“Oh,” Emma said, all the fight draining out of her.

“An’,” Henry continued. “He promised to tell me a bedtime story about his pirate adventures, an’ to break promises is bad form. Right, Killy-un?”

The boy looked up at Captain Hook for approval, and Emma was surprised to see the fond smile cross Captain Hook’s face as he nodded.

“Lad, I thought I told you that my name is a secret. That you could never tell another man,” Captain Hook said, amusement lacing his words.

“You did,” Henry said. “But Mama is a girl. So it’s okay.”

Captain Hook chuckled and looked to Emma for permission. When Emma nodded, still dumbfounded at the turn of events, Captain Hook entered the room. “Have you done everything your mum said to get ready for bed?”

“A-huh!” Henry exclaimed, clambering up onto the bed. “Story time! Story time!”

Captain Hook quirked an eyebrow at Emma. “What do you say, love?” he asked. “Is it story time?”

“Well, I can’t let you break a promise, that would be ‘bad form’,” Emma replied, doing her best to copy his accent on ‘bad form’. She climbed into bed and held Henry to her chest. The boy giggled and snuggled up against his mother’s chest.

“What are you doing?” Captain Hook asked in confusion.

“I’m staying for story time,” Emma said, leaning back with Henry in her arms. She gave Captain Hook a small smile and he began his story.

Mother and son were completely entranced by the Captain’s words, and the pictures he painted of far off lands and unbelievable creatures. They would laugh and gasp in unison at the appropriate moments, both leaning in with excitement.

When the Captain finish his story, Henry immediately asked, “Can we have another one?”

Captain Hook looked to Emma for guidance and she blinked in surprise, shocked that he would choose to defer to her. Warmly, she smiled down at her son, putting her finger on her chin as she mock thought. “I don’t know…if you’re too excited to sleep, maybe Captain Hook shouldn’t be telling you stories anymore…”

“I’m asleep! I’m asleep!” Henry squeaked and dove under the covers. “G’night, Killy-un!”

“Goodnight, Henry,” Captain Hook said, bowing to Henry. He then gently took Emma’s hand in his and kissed it. “Goodnight, Princess Emma.” He retreated and closed the door behind him.

Grinning to herself and ducking her head, Emma held her hand, the hand that he had kissed, to her chest.

“Mama?” Henry piped up softly. “You never apologized to Killy-un for yellin’ at him and callin’ him mean names when he didn’t actually hurt me.”

“I should apologize, shouldn’t I?” Emma asked with a sigh. Henry nodded. She kissed Henry’s forehead and tucked the blankets in around him. “All right, I’ll be right back.”

–

He had to stop grinning.

“Pull yourself together, you’re worse than you were in your lieutenant days,” he scolded himself, but the words seemed dampened by the way he was absolutely beaming.

He couldn’t help it though. Watching Princess Emma react to his story, to gasp with excitement and lean in when she wanted to hear more, awakened something within him.

“Pull yourself together, Killian,” he muttered, giving his head a quick shake.

“Captain?” Princess Emma called softly to him. He turned to look at her. Her cheeks were tinted pink as she shifted nervously from foot to foot. The cool autumn air gently lifted the hem of her dress and made it flutter about her. “I…” She ducked her head and then picked it up, looking anywhere but him.

Killian nodded encouragingly, taking a small step closer to the Princess.

“Ioweyouanapology.”

“What was that, love?” Killian asked, unable to keep the chuckle from bubbling forth. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

The Princess rolled her eyes but she was smiling. He wasn’t sure why, but his comment gave her the courage to look at him. “I owe you an apology,” she repeated. She licked her lips and added, “Henry explained that you weren’t trying to hurt him, you were trying to teach him how to swordfight.”

“Aye, I was,” Killian replied, scratching behind his ear. “He saw the sword, and said that your father would teach him some day. I thought I’d give him a lesson beforehand, given the state of things…I shouldn’t have overstepped.”

“No, no,” the Princess replied, stepping closer. “I really appreciate what you’ve done for us, really. Your ship, your room, Henry’s tour… the story. Really, it was incredible.” Her eyes lit up with excitement as she added, “Did you really pin Blackbeard to the mast with his own sword?”

“That I did,” Killian said. “You know, you’re pretty handy with a sword yourself, but your form could use some work.”

“What is it with you and form?” Princess Emma teased him.

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” Killian asked, drawing his sword.

With a bemused smile, Emma drew her own sword. “I’ve already bested you twice,” Emma called, as their blades met. “I don’t know that I need any tips from you on form.”

Killian spun around, dodging a playful blow. “I let you win those times,” he answered, laughing when their blades met again. “Nice parry, Princess, but I can do better than that.” With a push of his sword, he sent her a few steps back.

“If you’re going to jab me with your sword, you might as well call me Emma!” she hollered, bending her knees so she wouldn’t move further back.

“Oh, when I jab you with my sword, you’ll feel it,” he leered, but there was no real lasciviousness behind it, getting pushed back when she pushed forward. Emma rolled her eyes and Killian laughed, “Admit it, you walked right into this one.”

“Just like you walked right into this one, Killian!” Emma exclaimed, hooking her leg behind his and sweeping it toward her. Killian went sprawling to the ground, his sword clattering to the ground beside him.

Emma laughed openly and sat down beside him, handing him his flask. When he took it, he really got to look at her for the first time. Freckles dotted her flushed cheeks, her green eyes sparkled with mischief and the moonlight seemed to illuminate her entire face.

Pull yourself together! He took a long drag from his flask.

“Do you mind if I call you Killian?” she asked shyly. He shook his head, offering her the flask. She took a long drink and made a face, scowling a little when Killian laughed.

“Ugh, I don’t like this at all!”

“Was that your first sip of rum?” Killian asked, taking his flask back and taking a drink. Emma nodded, her face still scrunched up. “Don’t worry, you get used to it.”

“Something you’ve learned from being a pirate?” Emma asked curiously.

“Aye, but I wouldn’t say it’s the worst thing I’ve learned,” Killian said, looking away from her for a moment. He didn’t want to ruin the newfound bond between them with his melancholic brooding, but he doubted she would understand what he’d done as a pirate if he told her.

“What’s one of the best?” Emma asked gently, her hand softly resting on his shoulder and drawing his attention away from his maudlin thoughts. He turned to look at her and she dipped her head encouragingly. There was a sadness behind her eyes too.

Maybe she hadn’t known a harsh life on the seas, but she had seen some things in her time.

“The stars,” he rasped, gesturing up with his hook. “One of the first things I learned when I was in the Royal Navy–”

“You were in the Royal Navy?” Emma asked. She opened her mouth to demand more information on that, but the look on his face silenced her. She thought for a moment and then prompted him, “Tell me more about the stars.”

“Well, you learn to navigate by the stars, yes, but learning about constellations are far better than that,” Killian explained. “What do you know about the stars, Emma?”

“Very little,” Emma admitted. “When I was younger, I hoped that I would one day fly up to them and touch them.” She laughed somewhat humorlessly. “My tutors quickly dissuaded me of that notion.”

“Then do I have a constellation for you,” Killian murmured. He pointed up. “Do you see those stars up there? They make somewhat of a sideways T?” She shook her head and he beckoned her closer to follow his eyesight.

“There,” he whispered. “That’s Cygnus, the swan. Do you see it?” Killian and Emma leaned in closer to one another and their cheeks were practically brushing.

“Oh, there it is! I see it!” Emma said excitedly. She gasped and she looked over at him. Their noses were brushing and they were practically sharing a breath. Without warning, Emma grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him in for a kiss.

Killian’s lips melded against hers and he simply let her hold him there as they both deepened the kiss.

When they broke apart, they were both gasping for air, their eyes closed.

“That was…” Emma started softly.

“A one time thing,” Killian said roughly, dropping his flask at her feet. He couldn’t be with a princess, no matter how much he wanted to. He got up and walked away from her, his hand going to his lips.

–

It had been five days since they’d kissed and Emma was miserable. She couldn’t stop from glancing over at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. Henry had asked if they were fighting again, and that’s why Killian kept looking over at her.

And somehow that made it all worse. Knowing that he was looking at her too just made her heart twist in her chest.

She’d wanted to kiss him. She still wanted to kiss him. She hadn’t loved anyone since Neal, but she definitely felt something like love for the pirate.

“Mama?” Henry asked from her lap. He’d been drawing picture of the ocean, sitting with her on the deck. When she didn’t respond right away, he put down his paper and crayons to turn around and hug her.

“Everything okay, baby?” Emma asked softly, taking a moment to bury her face in her son’s hair.

“You seem sad, Mama,” Henry said softly. He looked back between her and Killian. “Did Killy-un say something mean to you?” His little brow furrowed. “I’ll make him ‘pologize!”

Emma smiled and hugged him tighter. “No, no, it’s all right. Mama just misses Nana and Poppa that’s all,” she murmured, smiling down at her son and stroking his cheek. Her boy was so sweet and far more perceptive than she’d given him credit for. Feeling somewhat comforted by at least the presence of Henry’s love in her life, she kissed his forehead.

“Okay, good!” Henry exclaimed. “Cuz I wanted to ask you ‘bout that!” He pointed over at the horizon. “It’s been getting closer and closer to us, but I can’t see.”

Emma brought Henry to the railing, thinking it was just a bird at first. But it was far too large to be a bird and coming closer on the tide.

It was a ship.

“Killian!” she called out in fear, keeping Henry close as she sprinted up to the helm. “There’s a ship behind us and gaining fast!” She pointed behind them, trying to keep her hand steady.

He pulled out a telescope and looked where Emma was pointing. “Bloody hell!” Killian cursed. “It’s one of Regina’s ships. Take the lad below and lock the door tight!” He turned to his crew. “Men! One of the Evil Queen’s ships is on our tail! Johnson, Starkey, I need you to adjust the sails! The rest of you, prepare for battle!”

Killian adjusted his grip on the wheel, clenching his jaw. When he saw Emma still standing there, he barked, “Emma go! Save Henry!”

Cupping the back of Henry’s head, she carried him downstairs and to the closet in Killian’s room. She piled some of Killian’s coats on top of him. “Do you remember what I said?” she asked in a shaky voice, stroking Henry’s cheek.

“Hide here until you come get me,” Henry repeated in a shaky voice. He lifted childish and trusting arms to his mother and Emma hugged him tightly. “Mama? I love you.”

“I love you too, Henry,” Emma whispered, pressing a kiss to his hair. Tears filled her eyes and she cupped the back of his head. “I love you so much. Be safe.” She stroked her son’s cheek.

“Where are you going?” he whimpered, burying his face in her shirt.

“I’m going to help Killian fight the bad guys,” Emma murmured, kissing his head. “Mama will come back for you, and if it’s not Mama it will be Killian, okay? But everything is going to be just fine. Mama is going to make sure of it.” She held him tighter. “I love you, sweetheart. Stay here.” She tucked him safely underneath the coats and closed the closet doors.

She would rather die fighting than stay cowering beneath the deck, especially if Henry’s life was on the line. Drawing her sword, she came to stand on the deck. The Evil Queen’s ship was within three ship lengths now, and all of Killian’s men were drawing swords, prepping the canons and manning their stations..

“Emma, what are you doing?” Killian demanded, his voice harsh with an emotion she couldn’t clearly identify. “I can’t guarantee your safety!”

“You don’t need to keep me safe!” Emma replied, drawing herself up to her full height. “You know how well I can fight. So let me help!” Killian opened his mouth to object but Emma continued, “Let me put it this way: either you agree that I can help up here, or you say I can’t and I’ll sneak back up here anyway! Which will it be?”

Killian let out a frustrated groan, but jerked his head up as the ship came beside them. “Men, prepare to fight!” he called.

Emma squared her shoulders, her sword pointed forward.

–

In the thick of the fighting, Killian couldn’t help but spare a glance every so often to make sure Emma was doing all right. He was worried out of his mind that she could get hurt, and while he wanted to use the helplessness he was feeling, and transform it into anger, he couldn’t.

He hadn’t spoken to her in days, out of his own guilt and shame for their kiss. He wasn’t regretting the kiss, not at all, but the kiss had exposed something in him that he didn’t even know he was capable of.

He was starting to fall for the Princess.

And he couldn’t help but immediately feel disheartened by their differences in status. The kingdom would never accept him as Prince, and Emma would never leave her parents behind to start a life of piracy with him. So he pushed her away. And now, as he watched her fight as hard as any of his crew, he found himself sorely regretting it.

He watched as she kicked a man square in the chest and sent him sprawling into the ocean, barely keeping a smile hidden as she did so. She was right: there was no way he would’ve been able to keep her from the fighting if he’d ordered her to stay below deck.

Gods, she was so stubborn and strong, it was surely going to be the death of him.

Assuming of course, that they actually made it out of this battle alive.

“The Queen has ordered us to bring the boy to her alive! Spare no one else!” one of the knights barked.

“Over my dead body!” Emma snarled, pressing forward into the thick of the battle.

“I think that’s the idea, love!” Killian called worriedly after her, pressing into the fray. Without even realizing, he found himself pressed shoulder to shoulder with her, fighting the Queen’s black knights as if they’d been fighting beside each other all their lives. “I hate to break it to you, love, but I think we’d make a great team!” he called, dodging a blow.

“We haven’t spoken in five days and that’s all you have to say to me?” Emma asked in frustration, her sword clanging with her opponent’s. She pushed him back and barely dodged another blow.

“Love, I’m sorry–” Killian started, wanting to make things right with her.

“I don’t think now’s the best time for apologies,” Emma retorted, ducking underneath the arm of a knight and all but body slamming into him. “You should be watching your own back, Killian.”

“But then who would be watching yours?” Killian called, his hook coming up to pierce the man who tried to attack Emma when she wasn’t paying attention. “And I must say, your back is much more delectable than mine.”

“Flirting? At a time like this? Really?” Emma asked, but he caught the smile that graced her lips.

This was so much better than the pining they’d been doing the last few days. Working with her, side by side, bantering back and forth. Despite the danger, his heart felt lighter than it had in days.  

Until he felt the whoosh of steel by his face and a clatter of a sword by his feet. There was a sword mere inches from him, but a body in front of his had stopped its path from striking him dead.

“Emma!” he roared, cradling her body in his arms as she fell to the ground. His men seemed to swarm en mass to drive the knights away, and he was left cradling her. “You bloody damnable woman!” Killian cried hoarsely, taking the weapon out and clamping down on her wound. He crushed his forehead to hers. “Come on, Emma, please don’t be dead…”

“I’m here,” Emma whispered weakly, her eyes fluttering open.

“Why did you do that?” Killian whispered, brushing some hair out of her face with his hook. “Who cares if I’m gone?”

“I couldn’t let you get hurt for me,” Emma whimpered, looking up at him with a hazy gaze. “They wouldn’t be here if not for me…” Her hand came up weakly to trail against his cheek “I care about you too much, even if you don’t care about me…”

The words nearly broke his heart. She thought him indifferent to her? Gods, what a fool he’d been!

Her hand weakly fell away from his cheek and fell to the ship’s deck with a soft thud.

“Emma?” he asked weakly. “Emma, wake up…of course I care…of course I do…” He barely recognized the wrecked timbre of his own voice. “Emma? Emma…please? Wake up, Emma. Come back to me, Emma.” He gave her a gentle shake, her head lolling about a little bit.

“Henry…”

The name barely slipped from her lips before she went limp. Her chest barely rose and fell, a sign that she was clinging to life. A ringing sounded in his ears and he tried in vain to repress the hollow feeling inside him.

It was just like Liam all over again.

How could he stand to lose another person he loved?

“Captain?” Smee said gently. “She’s still alive. Bron says he can try to heal her…but he needs to get her to the galley, and he needs you to get your alcohol. It’ll disinfect her wounds.” Killian looked up wildly, still cradling the princess close to his chest. “Go, Captain. She needs you to help her.”

He kissed her forehead, reluctantly handing her over to Smee. He got up and staggered to his room, unlocking the door. Seeing her touches in his room, her things, or things of his she had moved, made his heart ache and he let out a scream of agony, throwing everything on his desk onto the floor.

It was then that he saw his flask on the table by her bedside. She had been keeping it there? But why?

“Killy-un?” Henry’s small voice piped up from behind him. Killian whirled around to see his closet door creak open and the boy peaked out. “Mama said you’d come get me when it was safe to come out?”

“She said that?” Killian asked hoarsely. If she said that, it meant that despite everything, she trusted him enough with Henry’s life, and by extension her own. Suddenly the flask by her bedside made a little bit more sense, even though he wasn’t even sure he was worthy of her trust.

With a shaking hand, he took the flask and cradled it to his chest. He collapsed to his knees, barely letting out a sob. “Emma…gods, please don’t let her die…”

“Killy-un?” Henry asked in a trembling voice, slowly approaching him. “Killy-un? Where’s my Mama? Is she okay?”

He stared helplessly down at Henry, wishing he had answers for the boy. Not knowing what else to do, Killian scooped the boy up in his arms and began to sob, cradling him close. “I’m so sorry, Henry…I’m so sorry…”

–

Emma’s eyes weakly fluttered open, groaning as her eyes adjusted to the light. It stung as she breathed, but it certainly hurt less than being stabbed. She could see the black thread along her shoulder, the careful work of Bron’s stitching.

Taking a sniff, she smelled rum and her nose scrunched in distaste. Killian’s flask lay by her bedside table. Weakly, her fingers reached out to trace the smooth metal. But instead, she found her fingers held by a tiny hand, and a mop of brown hair was pressed up against her hip.

Her heart swelled to see her Henry curled up beside her, his chest rising and falling. His eyes were a little red-rimmed and his clothes were a little bit dirty, but him being there meant they’d won and no one had taken her son away from her.

And she had Killian to thank for it.

The last thing she remembered was hearing Killian say he cared about her. Her eyes widened and she tried to sit up to find him, then she realized that someone was holding her other hand. Looking over, she found Killian asleep on her other side, holding her hand tightly in his own. She gave it a gentle squeeze, and Killian bolted awake with a gasp.

“Emma!” Killian gasped, looking at her straight in the eye. She couldn’t even respond before his lips were crushed to hers. “Bloody hell, you had me scared to death, love,” he murmured against her lips. “Don’t ever do anything so reckless ever again.”

His hand came to cup her cheek, his thumb gently trailing along her skin. She leaned into his touch, letting her eyes close. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just saw him try to stab you with your back turned and I couldn’t…” she started, but he leaned in and kissed her again.

“It’s okay,” Killian murmured, nudging their noses together. “I’m just so glad you’re okay.” He closed his eyes for a moment.

Emma cupped Killian’s cheek in her hand, her eyes closed too. “You need a shave,” she murmured. Too afraid to open them, too afraid it was all a dream, she asked hesitantly, “Why did you push me away after we kissed? Am I…” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Am I not enough?”

“Gods, no, Emma…” His voice sounded utterly wrecked. “That’s not it at all.”

At this, she opened her eyes, taking him in. He wasn’t looking at her, certainly ashamed of the way he’d behaved the last few days.

“Then why?” she asked softly.

“I didn’t see a future,” Killian said glumly, Her fingers combed through his hair and he pressed into her touch more. “You’re a princess. When you first came on board, you were this stubborn, high-minded, pain in my arse–”

“I probably still am all those things–” Emma joked.

A smile ghosted his lips. “Let me finish. As I got to know you, I found this incredible woman with so much heart and determination. You’re so incredible, lass.”

“I’m pretty sure determined is just a nicer way of saying stubborn,” Emma retorted, her heart singing. She’d been so wrong about him too, and she was so glad that they were getting the opportunity to work things out.

Killian let out a laugh at her comment and brought his head up to look at her. Their eyes met and he smiled. “You’re impossible,” he told her, his voice full of affection.

“And you love me for it,” Emma retorted, equally as affectionate.

“Aye, I think I do love you,” Killian whispered. “Or I’m starting to fall in love with you. And it had me scared. After all, a princess and a pirate? What kind of future would we have?”

“We won’t have one at all if we don’t try. And you are the first person in so long who actually makes me want to try for one,” Emma answered. She thought back to the night when they were stargazing, her hand running through his hair still. “I know… there’s a lot about your past that you don’t want to tell me. And that’s okay. Because I’m going to choose to see the best in you.”

“And I you,” Killian answered softly. They stood in silence for a moment, Killian’s hand still cupping her cheek gently. Finally, he asked, “What have I done to deserve such high esteem from such a beautiful, incredible woman?”

“Well for one, you don’t always treat me like a princess,” Emma answered softly. “You treat me as your equal.” She blushed when she added, “And you’re really good with Henry. No one who is that good with my son can be that horrible now, even if his past was bad.”

“How do you know I didn’t just ply him with sweets?” Killian rumbled, and they both laughed.

“Because I would know. Henry can’t lie to save his life,” Emma murmured fondly, her gaze going down to her son. She wasn’t sure how this all would fit together yet, if Henry would be okay with what was going on, if they could even make this work. But she was willing to try if he was.

“Oh, just you wait, maybe I’ll be a bad influence on him yet.”

That sounded like a future if she ever heard one. Her response was immediately cut off by a yawn and Killian opened his arms to her. She rested her head on his shoulder and let her eyes flutter shut. It seemed all so different now, the creaking of the ship, the gentle rise and fall of the waves against the boat.

“Go back to sleep, love,” Killian coaxed, his voice cutting through her thoughts like a lighthouse in a storm. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

What was once so intimidating and imposing now felt like something she’d been waiting for her whole life.

–

The dead leaves on the dock were frost-tipped and slowly becoming icier as Elsa paced back and forth, her dress stirring them as she walked. A little flurry of snow swirled about her and she kept looking back at the horizon.

“Elsa, take a deep breath,” Anna said patiently. “I can hear your thoughts from here. And no, they did not get eaten by a giant sea monster. There aren’t any this close to Arendelle, you know that!”

A wry smile crossed Elsa’s lips as she took in her sister’s words. “I know, but after the attack on their ship by Regina–”

“Oh look! There they are!”

A ship began coming closer and closer, much to Elsa’s relief. A quick inspection of the ship revealed that it was indeed the Jolly Roger.

But Elsa knew she wouldn’t rest easy until she laid eyes on Emma and Henry. Elsa found Henry easily enough. He was standing by the railing waving enthusiastically at her, his little hand and face barely coming over the top of the railing. She waved back, laughing.

When she went to go look for Emma, Elsa found her friend tenderly kissing Captain Hook. The pair broke apart, Captain Hook’s thumb crossed a clear path of stitches on Emma’s shoulder, his face marred with worry. Elsa couldn’t make out what he said, but whatever it was, Emma seemed to soothe the Captain with her response.

And while Elsa had a million questions, the look on her best friend’s face was unmistakable: pure, unbridled joy.

“You know something, Anna? I think you’re right. I’d say she’s just fine.”

“That man is just fine,” Anna muttered, raising her eyebrows.

Elsa nodded in agreement. Though not her type, he was very easy on the eyes.“He certainly is something. Just…wait until she gets settled before we make her tell us everything .”

“Auntie!” Henry hollered to Elsa. “They’ve been kissing so much the past few days! Make them stop! Kissing is gross!” He squealed with laughter as Emma scooped him up into her arms. She began peppering Henry’s face with kisses and soon the Captain joined in.

Emma grinned sheepishly over the ship’s railing when she saw the gobsmacked look on Elsa’s face.

“Hey!” he heard over the music. He looked to his right to spy her head popping out from the doorway. “Go over to the coffee table and hit pause on my phone,” she calmly instructed.

He did as he was told and suddenly felt very awkward in the heavy silence. He had to say something. “I’m terribly sorry lass. I had to knock loudly to get your attention over the music and the door, it just…”

“It’s fine,” she affirmed. “The latch is broken and I guess I forgot to lock the deadbolt.”

She stepped out of the room with the same shirt, now buttoned up and what he assumed were sleep shorts. Her face was flushed, probably matching his own beet red face.

“Do you always dance in your knickers after ordering a pizza?” he quipped, hoping to break the tension and praying that it didn’t backfire. The corner of her mouth lifted just a bit as well as an eyebrow.

“I didn’t order any pizza,” she stated while walking up to him. Killian’s stomach fell as he rechecked the order details.

“It says here that an order for a large carnivore was placed by one Ruby Lucas at 216 Queensbury Street, Apartment 413.” He held up the receipt and saw her nod of recognition then patiently watched as she quickly placed a call, holding her finger up as she held the phone to her ear.

“Ruby…” she started. “Yes, it just arrived. You could have said something, I was caught completely by surprise.” He noticed her blush deepen and couldn’t help the grin that grew as her conversation continued. “Wait, let me get this straight. You ordered a large pizza with enough meat to satisfy a pack of wolves and you’re not even going to make it home to eat any? What am I supposed to do with that much meat?” Killian could hear her friend giggling loudly, then watched as the blonde walked passed him to a drawer in the kitchen. “Yep, there’s definitely enough here,” she stated as she pulled out a wad of cash. Then she sighed exasperatedly and looked at him, eyes trailing up and down his form and stopping once their eyes connected. Killian never understood what people meant by butterflies in the stomach until this moment as they gazed at each other for what felt like hours. Finally blinking, she cleared her throat, uttered a quiet response to her friend and hung up.

“Everything alright, love?” he asked after a long stretch of silence.

“What? Yah, sorry, just have a lot on my mind. Ruby, my roommate, ordered the pizza then realized that she was staying at her boyfriend’s place tonight. Anyway, this should be enough to cover it and a tip.” She offered him a few bills, but he sat the pizza down on the counter and waved her off.

“Afraid I can’t accept that, love.”

“Why is that?” she asked indignantly.

“Well, you see…” Killian reached up to scratch behind his ear, “when you reacted to my presence I panicked and lost my grip on the box. I’m afraid it fell upside down and is probably a right mess.” The tension in her shoulders eased a bit as she eyed the box then him.

“There’s only one way to find out.” She reached for the lid and slowly lifted the cardboard to reveal exactly what Killian feared. Cheese and meat were stuck to the top with strings of gooey mozzarella leading down to an unidentifiable saucy mess. But the lovely woman to his right was not disgusted or angry, she was… laughing, hysterically. Killian found himself cracking up as well. Once they stifled their giggling, the blonde held out her hand to him. “I’m Emma.”

“Killian,” he greeted, taking her hand. Something passed between them at the contact. It was almost like electricity, and judging by her quick intake of breath, she felt it as well. She pulled her hand away and bit her bottom lip in contemplation. Killian began to back up to the door, not wanting to take his eyes off Emma, but felt it best to make a hasty exit. “You may want to have your super take a look at your latch soon, before something like this happens again, lass.” He turned to reach for the doorknob, when he heard her speak again.

“Killian?”

He turned to face her and could see she was nervously tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“Would you like to stay and perhaps help me eat this giant meat fest?” She was biting her lip again and Killian breathed a sigh of relief. “That is, if you’re free. If you have other deliveries or somewhere else to be or perhaps a girlfriend or family to get back to then you should definitely go.” She spoke quickly and almost incoherently. “Sorry I tend to babble when I’m nervous,” she admitted sheepishly.

Killian stepped away from the door and took two long strides toward her, a goofy smile on his face that she readily returned “As luck would have it, Emma, I am completely free for the evening and would love nothing more than to assist you in consuming that bloody mess of a pizza… on one condition,” he said with a quirk of an eyebrow.

“And what would that be?” she asked breathily after a moment’s hesitation.

“I would like to know your full name, love”

“Swan. Emma Swan.”

“Swan.” He spoke softly as he lifted her hand, bowed his head, keeping eye contact and placed a light kiss on the back of her hand. She gasped at the intimate gesture. “Killian Jones, pizza connoisseur, fan of scantily dressed beauties and all around nice guy.” Emma chuckled at his ridiculous introduction and he decided that it was now his favorite sound.

“Yeah, about the scantily dressed dancing...” Killian’s eyebrows reached his hairline in anticipation. “It’s laundry day and this is literally the only clean clothing I have for the next,” she checked her phone, “twenty five minutes.”

“You’ll hear no complaints from me, Swan.” She was laughing again and Killian’s body was practically vibrating.

“I’ll grab some plates and something to scrape the toppings off the lid.”

Killian couldn’t believe his luck. Today was supposed to be a rotten day, but now he found himself having dinner with the loveliest woman he had ever set eyes on. He watched as she reached for the plates in the cupboard, exposing her toned, long legs.

“Beer?” she asked, snapping him out of his reverie.

“Aye, love, thank you,” he answered taking the offered plate and beer.

“So, what do you do when you’re not delivering pizza, Killian?” she asked as she used a spatula to remove the cheesy mess from the box lid.

“I actually never deliver pizza. My brother and I own Neverland Pizza and Pub. I was just finishing up prepping the toppings that we’d need for the evening when one of our drivers called in sick. Your roommate’s pizza was ready to go and the replacement driver wasn’t going to be there for at least ten minutes, so I begrudgingly offered to take it meself.” He took a long swig of his beer and settled in across from her at the kitchen island.

“Begrudgingly, huh?” she teased.

“Yes, well, most deliveries don’t end with me sharing a meal with a beautiful, half-naked woman.” He flashed her a philandering grin as a blush covered every inch of her exposed skin.

“Most?” she ribbed.

“None,” he corrected.

They continued to eat and learn about each other. He discovered that she was a criminal justice major at Boston University. He was also attending Boston University as a grad student in filmmaking. After graduation he wanted to get a crew of his own and finally make his documentary.

“Liam thinks it’s reckless and we have a good thing going with the restaurant, but making pizza and bartending is not my dream. Besides, I don’t really like people that much, aside from you lass.”

Emma gave a very unladylike, but adorable snort. “I can relate; not a people person myself. But your brother is right about one thing, you do have a good thing with the restaurant, this pizza is amazing.”

It was his turn to blush as he scratched behind his right ear bashfully.

“Why Neverland Pizza?” Emma asked.

“When my brother and I were younger we watched Peter Pan many times. Being in the system, it was every kid’s dream to be taken to an island full of other lost boys and girls. As we aged we realized Peter was a bit of an unpleasant brat, so we found ourselves rooting for Captain Hook. In the book Peter and Wendy he’s portrayed as an intellectual and a clever leader. I even found myself researching historical pirates and that was my focus as an undergrad history major.”

When he raised his head to look in her eyes, he saw something akin to sad recognition. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears.

“Have I said something to upset you Emma?” he asked tentatively.

“No, it’s just… we have a lot in common, but we can save that conversation for another time,” she assured as she dabbed her eyes with her sleeve.

Killian would let it go for now, with her promise of another time.

As the hours passed, they finished off the now cold pizza and beer, while discussing everything from movies to music to pastries. Emma loved bear claws and pop tarts, which Killian couldn’t help but make a face at. She playfully shoved him, but he caught her hand before she could retreat. The laughter died down and they just sat facing each other, gazes locked, until Emma’s phone buzzed and the moment was lost. She pulled her hand away and began cleaning up.

“I suppose it’s getting late,” Killian started, then nearly choked on his last gulp of beer when he saw that it was past midnight. They had been talking for six hours!

“Yeah, time flies when you’re…” she trailed off, unsure of her next words. Something had changed in her demeanor. She seemed suddenly distant and jumpy. Killian could sense that his presence may be making her uncomfortable.

“This was fun, Emma Swan, so, another time?” he asked recycling her words.

“Yeah, maybe. It’s really late and you should go.”

She led him to the door and taking the hint, he made his exit with a nearly whispered, “Goodnight Emma.”

“Goodnight Killian.”

As he made it back to his car, he wracked his brain wondering where he went wrong. He’d had a wonderful time and they’d had a comfortable conversation, which is really saying something considering the circumstances of their meeting. Running his hand through his hair and down his face, he let out a long, frustrated sigh and started up his car for the short drive home.

----------

Emma looked at her phone shortly after sending Killian on his way. Walsh had texted her again, a half assed apology that she had no intention of accepting. The text had startled her into awareness. She was enjoying the company of a strikingly handsome stranger with the bluest eyes she had ever laid eyes on, one who had seen her half naked! The dopey, shy smile he gave her had her walls crumbling faster than she was comfortable with. His raven black hair kept falling over his forehead and her fingers actually itched to swoop it back. It had only been a week since she’d discovered Walsh in their future apartment, with another woman in their would-be bed, and she was already flirting with a relative stranger? So naturally, she’d panicked and rushed the sexy delivery boy, strike that, man out the door, and immediately felt the loss. Sleep would not come easy to Emma, so she busied herself with discarding the empty pizza box and beer bottles and settled on the couch with Netflix and a fuzzy blanket.

“Okay, what is up with you lately?” Emma flinched at the question that her sister-in-law threw at her. “One minute you’re celebrating the end of your relationship with that scumbag Walsh, and the next you’re moping around the apartment asking if anyone wants pizza.” Mary Margaret was always annoyingly observant.

“I just…” Emma stumbled over her words, “realized that perhaps I didn’t take enough time to mourn the end of my relationship,” she lied. “I mean, I was with him for two years, Mary Margaret, maybe I could have been a better girlfriend.”

“Why are you blaming yourself for his mistakes? You were a great girlfriend, always cleaning up after him, suggesting fun things to do on weekends. He was a bad boyfriend. He never put any effort in, never took you anywhere. He was a bum Emma. You deserve better,” Mary Margaret affirmed.

The moment Mary Margaret said she deserved better, her mind immediately conjured up Killian’s handsome face and kind, blue eyes. She missed him and his stupidly sexy accent. And she probably fucked up any chance of speaking with him again after rudely rushing him out of her apartment.

“Hey, where’d you go just now?” Mary Margaret snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Nowhere, just thinking,” she deflected.

“Well, it’s time that we get to planning your birthday party.”

Emma laid a pillow over her face and groaned.

“This year MnM, can we just stay in, invite close friends, maybe play some games?”

Mary Margaret considered her for far longer than she was comfortable with.

“That’s an excellent idea. I’ll have David get the word out to the guys, we can move your couch off to the side, and we can set up the round card table that August has. And we can order tons of that pizza you can’t seem to get your mind off of.”

Mary Margaret continued to visualize where everything would go, and prattled on about decorations, but Emma’s traitorous mind went to Killian again. She hadn’t told anyone about him except Ruby, because she would never hear the end of it if she didn’t give more details about her encounter to her roommate. She wished he could be there, but after her behavior that night, she doubted he’d even want to talk to her.

----------

“Killian, will you please pull your head out of the clouds and help me with this order?” Liam grumbled. They had a full restaurant for lunch, plus a call in order of six large specialty pizzas that was meant to go out at seven, and Killian only had one thing on his mind. “Are you thinkin’ about that lass again? What was it... Emily?”

“Emma,” Killian quickly corrected.

“I know brother, how could I forget the object of your obsession.” Liam jabbed Killian playfully in the ribs.

“Oh, are we talking about Emma again?” Belle asked from the doorway into the kitchen.

Killian just huffed at his friend’s interest in the non subject. He clearly had no chance with her, she made that clear when she practically threw him out of her apartment two weeks ago.

“Killian, you know where she lives, just go over there and see what happens. This constant pining has to stop. You can’t even prep a proper pizza anymore.” Belle gestured to the scrambled mess of ingredients that sat atop his current creation. “You used to make it look like an artform, and now you just toss the toppings on and move on to the next one.”

“I have a lot on my mind Belle. Not everything is centered around pizza in my life. I have school to think about, next semester’s tuition, rent…”

“Emma,” Liam interjected. “Listen little brother…”

“That’s younger brother,” Killian corrected.

“Fine, younger brother, you have the weekend off, in fact you shouldn’t even be here. Go home, get gussied up and go out. If you’re unwilling to try to pursue anything with the Lady Emma, then get your arse out there and meet another lovely lass.”

Killian had no choice but to relent. He didn’t really feel like prepping pizzas all day anyway. He could go home and continue working on his final project for his Master’s degree. He had yet to perfect the storyboard. Going out and meeting someone was not an option in his opinion. He needed more time to get Emma out of his system.

“Alright, I’m leaving, satisfied?”

Both Liam and Belle gave him wide, cheesy grins and nodded.

Killian stepped into the hot shower and was flooded with images of Emma’s beautiful, nearly naked form dancing. He saw the swell of her perfect breasts when she spun to the music in her living room. The image of her immaculate hind quarters as she bent herself in half swirled in his mind. He had a problem, a very prominent problem that needed to be taken care of. So he sighed and turned the water to cold and thought only of her lovely smile and laugh. He wanted to hear it again. He wanted to banter with her and let her wit and charm wash over him. He wanted it and he was determined to try again with her. He finished his shower, dressed in his best outfit and went to grab his wallet which wasn’t in its usual place. He must have left it at Neverland, so he snagged his keys and headed back.

“Killian, welcome back, what are you doing here?” Robin asked as Killian walked in.

“Wallet, must have left it here,” he explained, breezing past the bartender.

“Order up for those six specialties!” Liam’s voice boomed from the kitchen.

Henry, the delivery boy for the evening retrieved them and read out the address just loud enough for Killian to hear. “216 Queensbury Street, Apartment 413. Okay, I’m off!”

“Hold up Henry.” Killian rushed to get his wallet and pulled out enough money to pay for the pizzas and a large tip for Henry. “I’ve got this one, lad,” he said with a wide grin.

“Awesome, thanks Killian!”

Killian couldn’t believe his luck. He had an actual excuse to see Emma again.

“Okay, what was that all about? I thought you were going out?” Belle asked.

Killian turned and placed his hand on the large stack of pizzas.

“These pizzas are going to Emma’s apartment,” he clarified with a bright grin and a wink.

“Don’t stay out too late,” Bell winked back.

Killian loaded the delivery into his car and raced to Emma’s, eager to see her again.

----------

“Emma, it’s a party, your party. At least try to smile?” Ruby begged.

Emma smiled wide for her friend. She really was being a bit of a downer. Why did Killian still have this affect on her two weeks later. She only spent six hours with the man. And now pizza from his restaurant was on its way and she knew his gorgeous face would not be greeting her at the door.

“Ruby, why did you order so much pizza? There’s only eight of us here?” David asked, flabbergasted.

“Because it’s the best damn pizza in town and I wanted to make sure everyone got their fill.”

“And because she’ll easily wolf down a whole pie on her own,” Victor added endearingly. Ruby nodded in agreement.

A moment later a knock came from the door and Emma asked Ruby to answer it.

Ruby strolled to the now fixed door and opened it wide to find a pair of legs, waist, and arms holding a stack of pizzas covering the upper half.

“Here, let me help you with that,” David offered. He took three of the boxes to reveal Killian’s face. Ruby instantly knew it had to be Emma’s mystery man and object of her affection.

“Are you Killian by chance?” she whispered closely.

“Aye.”

Ruby looked him up and down shamelessly, nodding her head. “Emma was right, you are the hottest pizza delivery boy, er, man on the planet.”

“Let me guess, that’s what she whispered into the phone after looking me over, quite like you just did,” Killian smirked.

Ruby just winked in reply.

“Ems, you should come say hi to our delivery boy,” Ruby called over her shoulder.

Emma huffed, but knew better than to ignore Ruby’s requests. She could be quite pushy. Emma got up from the couch that was pushed off to the side of the living room and made her way around the card table and then found herself momentarily frozen when her eyes met his. He’s here, at her door, delivering pizza again. Ruby took the remaining three boxes from him and invited him in. When Emma finally felt she was able to walk again without stumbling, she made the rest of the trek to meet him.

“I thought you said you didn’t deliver pizza,” she said breathlessly.

Killian reached behind his right ear to scratch what was probably a non-existent itch. He was clearly nervous. “I don’t, but when I heard the address these pizzas were heading to, I offered to take them myself. I wanted to see you again, Emma,” he said with a shy smile.

Emma couldn’t help her own shy smile. She also noticed that everyone was staring expectantly at them.

----------

God, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. And she appeared to be happy to see him. She grabbed his arm to drag him in the door so he could see everyone else in the apartment.

“Everyone, this is Killian. Killian this is Mary Margaret Nolan, my sister-in-law,” she said as a woman with dark hair, cut into a pixie style strolled up to him with a huge smile.

“It’s very nice to meet you Killian. This is the first time Emma has genuinely smiled all day, or maybe weeks.”

Emma visibly blushed at that and Killian found it adorable.

“It’s nice to meet you as well Mary Margaret, and to be honest, I haven’t found myself smiling much in weeks either.”

Emma bit her lip and smiled even wider at him.

“Okay, I’m confused, what exactly happened weeks ago that I know nothing about?” a tall man, with blond hair asked.

“Killian this is my brother David Nolan.”

Killian extended his hand to shake David’s hand, but he kept his arms crossed in front of him awaiting an explanation.

“David, don’t be rude. I’ll explain everything.”

David extended his hand then, but the handshake was a tad bit tighter than necessary. Killian figured he was very protective of his sister.

“Killian delivered a pizza to me two weeks ago that was meant for Ruby, but she was staying at Victor’s place, so he stayed and we talked for a while.”

Emma left out a few minor details for obvious reasons. She was blushing again, probably from the memory of the part she left out.

“That still doesn’t explain why you’ve been in state of mourning for the last two weeks. Did he do something to upset you?”

A pained expression passed over Emma’s face.

“No, it was all me. I panicked when I realized I felt so comfortable with Killian, who was practically a stranger. It wasn’t long after the Walsh incident, so I kind of kicked him out of the apartment, and I’m really sorry about that Killian,” she said turning to him.

Emma had a look on her face that told Killian she was worried he might be upset with her. “Love, it’s alright. I must admit I was very confused and worried that I had done something to offend you. You’re right, we are practically strangers to each other, but I’d very much like the opportunity to rectify that.”

She smiled and bit her lip again. “I’d like that.”

David seemed satisfied so Emma continued the introductions. He met Graham next, an Irishman with curly brown hair and eyes, and a smattering of scruff similar to his own. Ruby was striking with long brown hair and very red lips. Her boyfriend, Victor, was a weasley man, in appearance only, with terrible bleach blond hair. They were an odd pairing, but very affectionate toward each other. Elsa was also striking in a regal way, with light blonde hair and very blue eyes. He also learned that she was not attached to anyone at the party, and she was definitely Liam’s type. A plan started to form in his head. The last guest was August, a scruffy man with brown hair and eyes, who apparently loved to gamble. Killian would enjoy beating him at poker.

Everyone dug into the pizza and for a few moments the only sounds in the apartments were moans and chewing, but Killian tuned out everyone else but Emma. When she took her first bite, she closed her eyes and let out a sensual moan that sent desire coursing through him. He was sure he was falling for her and falling hard. He needed a distraction before his body reacted to her sounds of pleasure. That’s when he noticed there was a birthday banner hung across the living room wall and balloons everywhere.

“Who’s birthday are we celebrating?” he asked David.

“Emma’s, actually.”

Killian whipped his head back to Emma, who was working on a pretty big bite, and she just gave him a guilty shrug.

“Happy birthday, love. I suppose the pizza will have to do for now as your gift.”

“Oh shit, I never even offered to pay. How much do I owe you?” Ruby asked.

“It's already been taken care of, lass, you don’t owe me anything.”

“This much pizza must have cost a fortune!” Emma blurted out.

“It was worth the cost to see you again, love.”

Emma blushed at his words.

“So Killian, what do you do when you’re not delivering pizza?” David asked.

“I’m a film student at Boston University working on my master’s actually.”

“That’s impressive,” Mary Margaret piped in. “What kind of movies do you want to make?”

“Documentaries. I’m working on my final project right now which is a documentary about Black Sam Bellamy. I’m hoping to finish my storyboard by the end of the month and get some filming done before winter sets in.”

“Who’s Black Sam?” August asked.

Emma jumped in before Killian could answer. “He was a pirate captain during the Golden Age of Piracy. If I remember correctly he became the richest pirate in history. He’s also sometimes referred to as The Robin Hood of the Seas, and he never killed his captives except in self defense.”

She looked to Killian for confirmation and he was so impressed that it took him a moment to respond.

“Aye, that was all correct. Emma you’re amazing, how do you know all of that, love?”

Emma blushed as she explained. “I’m kind of, really into pirates, ever since I was a little girl. I used to pretend I was Anne Bonny, sailing with Calico Jack on the Kingston. You have to have an active imagination when you grow up alone in the system.”

This woman would never cease to amaze him. Whoever this Walsh character was, he was a right git for letting her go. He understood now why she looked so sad when he regaled his story about him and Liam being orphaned.

“How about a game?” Mary Margaret chimed in.

Everyone agreed on charades, and by the end, Killian’s sides hurt from laughing so much. When Emma suggested poker, there were some obvious groans. Killian realized after three rounds of Emma winning that she was the reason. She had an uncanny talent for detecting lies. However, Killian got the best of her the next three rounds, turning on so much charm, that he threw her off her game.

Later, Emma and Killian lounged on the couch, making each other laugh, both a little tipsy, when he blurted out something he instantly regretted.

“You’re so amazing, how could anyone not love you.”

He only meant it to be a compliment, but he knew the second the words left his mouth, that it was a poor choice of words. Emma’s face fell and his heart hurt so much for her.

“I’m so sorry, love. That was a stupid thing to say.”

He waited on bated breath for her to say something. He feared she would shut him out for his callousness, but she continued to surprise him. He watched her face morph into something resembling resolution.

“You’re damn right, I am amazing.”

He let out a relieved sigh and she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you Killian, for making me feel wanted. You’re pretty amazing too. I hope you know that.”

God, if she knew how much he wanted her, she’d probably slap him. He had no words so instead he gave her an appreciative smile. Elsa came over at that moment to flop into the armchair next to them.

“So Killian, Emma said you co-own Neverland Pizza with your brother?”

“Aye, Liam, he’s an insufferable know-it-all, as stubborn as they come,” Killian said with a smirk. He was only half serious.

“He sounds charming,” Elsa laughed out.

“That he is lass. He practically raised me. As soon as he turned 18, he filed for guardianship to get me out of the orphanage. He worked twelve hour days at the docks to support us while I finished school. When I graduated and moved here on scholarship, he joined the British Royal Navy for a few years, even rising to the rank of Captain,” he said with pride.

“How on earth did you two end up owning a restaurant?”

“After I earned my bachelor’s degree, he left the Navy to join me in the states. I was giving him a tour of the city when we walked past the vacant building and Liam started telling me all the potential it had. We knew we wanted to make it a bar, but it also had a large kitchen and dining area so we researched surrounding restaurants, found there was a lack of pizza and the decision was made. We combined our savings to pay the deposit and did the renovation ourselves, with the help of some good friends.”

“Wow, I’m impressed. I should really stop by to see the place.”

Killian remembered that Halloween was coming up soon, which meant the night of the annual Neverland costume party.

“Why don’t you all come on Halloween, we host a party every year. We even hire temp workers so the employees get to join in on the fun.”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun. Do you dress up?” Ruby asked.

“Costumes are not required, but definitely encouraged.”

“What do you dress as?” Emma asked him sleepily.

“Sorry Swan, that’s for me to know and you to find out. Will you come?” he asked hopefully.

“How could I say no to that face? Of course I’ll be there.”

“Count us in,” Ruby said, gesturing between Victor and herself.

“Us too,” David said.

Eventually everyone had agreed to come after they checked their schedules. By this time, Emma had fallen asleep leaning against him. Everyone started trickling out except David and Mary Margaret. Ruby had decided to stay with Victor for the night. Emma’s head started to slide further down his side so he grabbed a pillow and settled her head in his lap. He wasn’t sure if he should get up or let her sleep. She looked so peaceful.

“You’re probably stuck for the night. Emma is a hardcore insomniac. If you move she may wake up and will probably not be very happy with you,” David told him.

“Aye, thanks for the advice. If you wouldn’t mind getting a blanket for her and turning out the lights when you leave, I believe I’ll be just fine.”

David nodded and started to head in the direction of Emma’s bedroom when he paused to tell Killian something.

“You’re good for her. She’s had a rough life, been let down and betrayed too many times. She doesn’t trust easily or open up to many people, but she seems to trust you. And I honestly have never seen her happier than she was tonight. Just… be patient with her. Don’t move too quickly.”

“Aye, mate, I understand,” Killian said appreciatively.

David nodded again then moved to grab her favorite fuzzy blanket. The couple bid Killian goodnight, turning off the lights as they left, shrouding him and Emma in darkness. He settled in, happy to be with the woman who had stolen his heart.

----------

There was light shining against her closed eyes, threatening her sleepy state. She was so comfortable and desperately didn’t want to get up. Wait, why is there light in my room, she thought, there were blinds in her bedroom, after all. She opened her eyes and realized she was on her couch in her living room. She heard soft snores coming from above her so she rolled onto her back and was greeted with a glorious sight. Killian had his head tipped back against the top of the couch, one arm propped on the arm of the couch, and the other was resting on her stomach. Her head was resting in his lap, thankfully with a pillow between them. She must have fallen asleep on him and he stayed like this all night so that she could get the most restful nights sleep she had had in months. Her heart fluttered at the thought. She took a few minutes to study him, not wanting to wake him just yet because the sight of him sleeping was gorgeous. A swoop of his hair was resting on his forehead and it was adorable. His mouth was parted slightly and she longed to find out if his lips were as soft as they looked. She itched to rub her hand against his scruffy cheek.  A soft hum escaped her which was enough to stir him awake. Suddenly she was feeling very self conscious. Her hair and make-up were probably a mess. He lifted his head, rubbed his neck and then smiled down at her.

“Hello, beautiful,” he said with a gravelly voice.

Emma felt her face warm at the endearment. Her eyeliner and mascara had probably given her racoon eye and the first thing he said was that she’s beautiful. She felt a swell of affection for him.

“Good morning, handsome.” His smile grew at her words. “I’m sorry if your neck hurts, that must not have been very comfortable.”

“On the contrary, love, I slept like a rock. It must have something to do with the lovely woman sleeping in my lap.”

She giggled, then decided it was probably time to give his lap a break and rose from her position.

“Would you like some breakfast, or do you need to be somewhere?”

“I would love to have breakfast with you, Emma. As it turns out, I have nowhere to be all day,” he replied, still smiling.

She didn’t move to get up though, finding herself lost in his too blue eyes. He gazed back, seemingly content with their little staring contest. It should have felt uncomfortable or weird, but with him, she could do this for hours. Finally blinking herself out of her trance she rose from the couch and offered her hand to help him up.

“I’m going to brush my teeth first. I have some new toothbrushes if you’d like to as well.”

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

They brushed their teeth together, then Emma had a laugh over Killian trying without success to get the hair at the back of his head to fall correctly. He had incurable bed, or in this case, couch head. He eventually gave up with an exasperated sigh and they made their way into the kitchen. They worked in tandem to prepare the food, Killian tending to the bacon and eggs while Emma flipped pancakes. Every once in a while they would flash smiles at each other. It was so domestic and Emma was surprisingly okay with that. She still feared the panic would set in and she’d need to distance herself from him, but for now she wanted to embrace it while she could.

“Would you like to spend the day with me Killian?” she asked boldly while nibbling on some bacon. Killian looked pleasantly surprised at her request. “I mean after we both have freshened up. That hair of yours isn’t going to go back to being perfect until you’ve showered.”

“Why Swan, you think I have perfect hair?” he asked with a raise of one eyebrow.

His demeanor practically oozed sex and Emma was tempted to reach over the table and smash her mouth to his. Instead she laughed off the question.

“Please, you know you do.”

He gave her a cheeky grin. “I would be happy to accept your invitation on one condition.”

“And what’s that?”

“You let me plan the day.”

Emma paused at his request. It sounded too much like a date and she was not ready for that. But she desperately wanted to spend more time with him. She probably hesitated a bit too long because she could see his face fall.

“Agreed,” Emma blurted out. Killian’s face lit up instantly. They finished eating, cleaned up together and then Emma saw Killian to the door. “So what are we doing today?”

“It’s a surprise, although I will advise you to dress in something warm, it’ll get a bit windy, love.”

“Okay, you’ve piqued my interest. What time should I be ready?”

“Give me two hours.”

“I’ll be ready, but Killian, this isn’t a date, right?” she asked anxiously.

“No love, this is us spending the day together.” He leaned in closer to add, “When it’s a date you’ll know it.” He winked at her and bid her farewell; and Emma was left breathless.

Emma stood at her closet door, staring into the mirror that was attached, for what seemed like hours. She had tried on several outfits, finally settling on an oversized purple sweater and dark blue skinny jeans. She’d been trying to guess where he was taking her, but kept coming up empty. The knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts.

Killian greeted her with a huge toothy grin. “Are you ready for our adventure today, love?”

“Since you refuse to clue me in, I’m not sure. Do I look ready?”

He raked his eyes over her form before replying, “You look perfect.”

She could say the same thing about him. He was looking sinful in a dark blue Henley and dark, tight, but not too tight, jeans.

He held out his hand to her. “Shall we?”

She grabbed her bag and allowed him to lead her down the stairs to his car. God, he even drove a sexy car. Killian was serenading her as he sang along with the radio, and of course his singing voice was amazing. She realized they were heading toward the water and her excitement grew as Killian turned into the parking lot of the harbor.

“Sailing?” she asked hopefully.

“Aye, I want to introduce you to the other love in my life.”

Was he being flippant, or did he just admit to being in love with her? Why wasn’t she running? That idea would scare the shit out of her if it came from anyone else. She filed that thought away for now, not wanting it to ruin what was already a fantastic day.

They were making their way down the dock when he stopped in front of a beautiful sailboat. The hull of the boat was painted a rich blue-gray with dark walnut trim running along the edge of the vessel. It was about 30 feet long with an actual wheel at the helm. It didn’t fit in with all of the pristine white boats surrounding it, but it had character. Someone popped his head out from below deck and smiled as he made his way up the stairs and down the gangway.

“She’s all ready for you, little brother.”

Emma could hear Killian mumble something about younger brother, and she got the idea that this was not a one-time thing with them.

“Emma, I would like you to meet my older brother, Liam. Liam this is Emma.”

“It is a great pleasure to finally meet the famous Emma,” he said as he extended his hand. Liam was a bit taller and broader than Killian, with curly, light brown hair. His eyes were the most familial trait, a perfect match to Killian’s.

“Likewise,” she said as she took his hand.

“Alright, I’m off, you two enjoy yourselves. I don’t have to remind you to behave, do I Killy?” Killian’s ears turned red. Liam patted Killian on the back and briskly walked back to land.

“Killy?” Emma snickered into his ear.

“Okay, let’s just pretend that never happened,” he said as he scratched behind his ear. He took her hand and lead her up the gangway. “Welcome to the Rolly Joger!” Emma’s snickers got louder. “Bloody hell, I mean the Jolly Roger.”

“Jolly Roger, huh, does that mean I have to call you Captain Hook?” she asked with a smirk.

“You can call me anything you like, love,” he replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay, Captain, just don’t call me Smee and we have a deal.”

Killian cringed at the thought. After giving her a quick sailing lesson so that she could help out when needed, they launched The Jolly out to sea. “Let’s sail away, love,” Killian said as he navigated his way through the mass of other boats.

Emma watched him at the helm, his crystal blue eyes sweeping over his surroundings. The wind kicked up, making his raven hair wave from the invisible force. It was a perfect fall day, not a cloud in the sky. As they got further out to sea, Killian’s demeanor relaxed.

“Come here, Swan,” he said, holding his hand out to her. She took it and let him place her hands on the handles of the wheel. She could feel him pressed against her back and her body shuddered from the contact.

----------

Killian was in awe of Emma as she handled the Jolly with flawless precision. The wind was whipping through her golden tresses which occasionally hit him in the face, giving him a chance to take in her scent of apples and cinnamon. She smelled like a scrumptious apple pie. He stepped back to admire her form, leaning against the mizzen mast.

“Why do I get the feeling I’m being watched?” Emma asked knowingly.

“I’m just admiring the way you handle my boat.” He stepped around her and leaned against some railing so that he could see her face. Her jade eyes sparkled in the sun. She smiled at him, but said nothing. “Emma, I was hoping I could ask you something? Something about your past.” Emma stiffened a little at the question, but nodded her consent. Killian breathed a sigh of relief. “You shared that you grew up in the system, yet David is your brother. How did that familial connection happen exactly?”

“When I was 15, I ran away from my group home and decided living on the streets was safer than returning. I had to steal to eat and one day David caught me attempting to stuff poptarts in my jacket. When I noticed he had seen me do it, I dropped the poptarts and ran out of the store. He followed me and eventually caught up to me. I didn’t make it easy for him though. He asked me why I was stealing and, for some reason, I told him the truth. I’ve never trusted people easily, especially back then, but something in David’s eyes comforted me.”

Killian could see that. Everything about the man screamed honorable.

“He asked me if I wanted a hot meal. I just stood in stunned silence as he told me that he had just moved out of his mother’s house, so I could sleep in a bed as well. I was so hungry and it was freezing at night, so I allowed this strange man to lead me to his truck and drive me to his mother’s house and feed me. It turned out to be the best decision I ever made. Ruth was so kind and a really good cook. She didn’t smother me at all, said I could stay as long as I liked. So I did.”

“So the lost girl found her home at last.”

“That she did. Ruth, David, and Mary Margaret have always been there for me, even through my darkest hours. But that’s a tale for another day,” she said wiping at her slightly damp eyes.

An hour later Killian retrieved the food and drinks that Liam had left for them and they enjoyed sandwiches, picnic style on the deck of the Jolly. When the sun started to lower behind the Boston skyline, they packed away the food and Killian guided them back to the docks. He despaired having to drive her home and say goodbye, knowing that he wouldn’t see her again until the party, but he would be happy with whatever time he got with her. Emma had classes all week, and a job at the University’s police station. He’d be pretty busy as well, completing his storyboard and renting some equipment. He already had a full crew signed on to his final project.

“So, until Saturday?” Emma asked wistfully.

“Until Saturday,” Killian confirmed with a kiss to her hand.

“Goodnight, Captain,” she said with a blush.

He smiled, despite his inner turmoil. “Goodnight.”

----------

Emma had been a nervous wreck all week. She spent way more time visiting costume shops than she should have, not finding anything.

“Oh, my God Ems, I found it!” she heard Ruby scream in another aisle. “It’s at Neverland Pizza, right?”

That piqued her interest. “Yes,” she confirmed cautiously

“Eep, that is perfect!” Elsa piped in.

Emma had to see what all the fuss was about. “I am not going as a sexy pirate,” she stated as she rounded the corner.

“Nope, you’re going as a sexy Tinkerbell,” Ruby said, handing her the bag.

It really was kind of perfect. And it wasn’t too risque. David would probably be watching every man there like a hawk. She tried it on and her friends would not take no for an answer. Not that she would have said no in the first place.

“Killian Jones is a dead man,” Ruby said, eyeing her up and down.

“Yeah, cause David’s gonna murder him,” Emma quipped.

“Not before you stop his heart with that outfit,” Elsa added.

Emma blushed and finally felt the tension in her release. Tomorrow night she was going to leave Killian Jones speechless for the first time since she’d known him.

“Rubes, come on, we’re gonna be late!” Emma called from the door.

“Don’t have a fit, I’m ready,” she said exiting her room in a sexy red riding hood costume.

“Is Victor going as the big bad wolf?”

“Are you kidding? His name is Victor and he’s a doctor. Apparently, he dresses as Dr. Frankenstein every year. He’s held up at the hospital until 9, but I can’t wait to see it.”

“Alright, let’s go, she-wolf. We’re meeting everyone else at the restaurant.”

Emma took one last look at herself and gave a confident nod. They jumped into their Uber and the nerves from excitement were making her a bit queasy. She didn’t know what this was between her and Killian, but she knew that it was something big. As they pulled up they saw the rest of their party, minus one mad scientist. Mary Margaret was dressed as a modestly sexy Snow White, if that’s a thing. David, however, refused to dress as Prince Charming, but he did make a pretty cool Arthurian Knight. Graham was dressed as a cop, because he had just finished his shift. August was a cowboy of all things, but looked like he could fit in with the James Gang. Elsa was vision, dressed as the blue fairy in a shiny dress that screamed regal.

“Emma, you look amazing!” Mary Margaret squealed. David did not share her enthusiasm.

“Thanks, let’s get inside. I can’t wait to see what mystery costume Killian is wearing.”

They gave their names at the door and were immediately led into a freaking jungle. The place was made to look like Neverland at night. The ceiling resembled a canopy and the walls were covered in fake greenery.

“Emma, you made it,” said Liam from the bar. He was dressed as Peter Pan minus the dorky hat.

“Very appropriate for tonight,” she said, nodding at his costume.

“As are you, Tinkerbell. If you like this, you’re really gonna get a kick out of Killian’s.”

“I can’t wait. Guys,” she said waving her friends over, “this is Liam, Killian’s brother and co-owner of this fine establishment.”

“Why thank you, Emma.”

“Liam, this is everybody.” She introduced everyone to Liam, but when he greeted Elsa, he momentarily lost his voice. She seemed as affected as him, and the two were left to talk.

Emma was searching the crowd when a pretty brunette wearing a gorgeous medieval dress approached her enthusiastically. “Ooh, you must be Emma.”

“That’s right. I take it Killian talks about me?”

“More like, thinks about you... really loudly. But he didn’t fail to describe your beauty, as he puts it. His description was pretty spot on. I’m Belle, by the way, I work in the kitchen with him.”

“It’s nice to meet you Belle,” she said shaking her hand. “I don’t mean to be rude, but…”

“You want to see Killian,” Belle interrupted with a knowing smile.

“Yeah, I’m dying to see his costume.”

“I happen to know Killian feels the same way. And when he does see you, remind him to breathe.” Emma blushed at the praise. “He’s right over there,” she said pointing behind Emma, “in the long black jacket, currently comparing his cutlass with Robin’s bow.

Confused, Emma turned. Killian had his back to her and was indeed joking with Robin Hood. Then she saw him raise his left hand in an exaggerated gesture and spotted the shiny, silver hook. He was dressed as Captain Hook, an extremely sexy Captain Hook. She noticed him stiffen and he must have sensed her staring at him because he turned then, and holy God, he was glorious! He was clad entirely in black leather. The trousers were deliciously tight against his powerful legs. His vest only covered his abdomen, exposing a smattering of sexy chest hair. When did I become a fan of chest hair? But it was the look on his face that had her hot and bothered. At first it was shock, but then his eyes darkened as they raked up and down her scantily clad body, and the shock morphed into lust.

----------

The vision before him had him instantly feeling tighter in his trousers. He moved his eyes up her long, slender legs, particularly enjoying the intermittent sections of her creamy, smooth thighs on display. The pixie dress was low cut, exposing a fair amount of cleavage. He had seen more of her on the day they had met, but he hadn’t known her then. He sauntered up to her, trying his best to keep his composure.

“You look stunning, Swan.” He delighted in the pretty pink blush that spread from the apple of her cheeks all the way down to the swell of her breasts.

“Thank you, you look…”

“I know,” he interrupted with a smirk.

She laughed at his self confidence.

“So, this is the mysterious Emma,” Robin said, coming up from behind Killian. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, milady, I’m Robin Lockhart and that lovely creature behind the bar, micromanaging, is my wife Regina. We manage the bar, apparently even on our days off.”

“The Pleasure is all mine, Robin Hood,” Emma giggled, extending her hand. Robin took it and promptly placed a kiss on her knuckles.

“All right, Rob, maybe you should go give your wife a hand, or at least distract her so she doesn’t drive the temp workers completely crazy.”

“Will do, boss,” he said with a flourish.

“Do all British men greet women with a kiss to the hand? And that’s another thing, why are you all British? Did you all come to the states together or something?”

Killian took her hand and led her to a quieter corner of the building. “We all met at B.U. There was a foreign student club that I stumbled into one afternoon, my Freshman year, and we just kind of hit it off. Robin and I became roommates the next year and Will joined our dorm shortly thereafter. I’m sure you’ll meet him tonight, he’s the one who follows Belle around like a puppy dog. Belle is actually Australian and Regina is a Yank.”

“A Yank, is that what you would call me?” she asked teasingly

Killian leaned down so that his mouth nearly grazed the shell of her ear. “I would call you the most beautiful and sexy pixie in all the land.” He was beginning to believe that her blush may be permanent for the evening. Suddenly the music slowed and Killian seized the moment to hold Emma in his arms. “Care to dance, love?” he asked, his hand extended.

“I don’t know how.”

“Have you forgotten, Swan? I’ve seen you dance and you’re quite good.” He cocked his eyebrow at her, eliciting a chuckle.

“That was different, I was just moving to the music. I’ve never slow danced before.”

“There’s only one rule,” he said, leading her onto the dance floor. “Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.” He guided her hand up around his neck, the other following the same path. He slid his hand and hook slowly down her sides until they rested on her hips. He used the tiniest amount of pressure to encourage her to sway them as he set a slow and intimate pace. His eyes locked on hers, everyone else on the crowded dance floor seemed to disappear. She let her head fall to his shoulder as she let out a contented sigh. He never wanted this moment to end.

Just as the music started to pick back up again, he had an idea. They had set up a photo shoot with a large backdrop that featured the Jolly Roger from the cartoon.

“What better way to immortalize your first slow dance with a pirate than a photograph,” he quipped. Before she could protest, he literally swept her off her feet. Supporting her back with his hand and her legs with his hooked arm, she giggled furiously in his grasp.

“Alright you two, smile big for the camera.” Emma did as instructed, but Killian couldn’t take his eyes off of the angel in his arms. He knew in that moment that Emma Swan was the love of his life. Now, he just needed to convince her that he was hers.

As the party wound down, guests started to trickle out. Killian had convinced Emma to dance with him during every slow song, but he could see that she was tired when she yawned against him during their last dance. He desperately didn’t want to say goodnight, but the night was coming to a close. He made sure to bid farewell to all of her friends before turning his attention solely to her.

“I had a wonderful time tonight, Killian. You really know how to throw a party,” she said with a sleepy smile.

“It certainly was a night to remember, love. Sweet dreams.” He brushed his lips lightly across her knuckles and witnessed goosebumps rise along her arm.

“Goodnight, Captain,” she breathed.

Killian longingly watched her pile into an Uber.

“Hell of a woman,” Liam slapped him on the shoulder.

“Yes she is.”

----------

After Halloween, Emma didn’t see much of Killian because he had to use his weekends to start shooting his documentary. They talked every evening, sometimes pushing past midnight. She missed him so much. He had become her best friend and secretly so much more, but she wasn’t ready to admit that yet. The entire group spent Thanksgiving at Neverland, becoming fast friends. Liam and Elsa had started dating, and thankfully Killian was finished filming for the year. During their short break he would come over to her apartment and they would cuddle on the couch, bingeing on Netflix. Then one night, Killian asked her about Walsh. She told him everything without hesitation.

“Honestly, I don’t know why I was with him. I guess I was searching for normalcy, and Walsh was as normal as they came. He was a safe choice, that is until he wasn’t. He didn’t break my heart though, because I never truly gave it to him. After my first relationship ended so badly, I figured I’d never be able to give it to anyone else again.”

“Do you still feel that way?” he asked hopefully.

“No,” Emma breathed. “I don’t.”

Killian smiled, but didn’t push the subject anymore. She was worried he was going to ask about Neal, but the question never came. She was so grateful that he understood she wasn’t ready to share that sad tale yet.

The first few weeks of December were hectic while they studied for finals. Killian would still come over as often as he could, but the t.v. stayed off while they studied silently. After finals, Emma picked up extra hours at the police station so she could afford gifts. Unlike Thanksgiving, everyone would be separating to visit family. Elsa wanted Liam to meet her family, so Emma and Killian decided to have their own little Christmas. They spent Christmas eve at his home since he had a fireplace and he’d decorated the place to look like the North Pole.

----------

Killian couldn’t be happier, watching the fire burn with Emma in his arms. He loved her so much. He knew she cared for him as well, and he was a patient man, he would wait forever for her. Suddenly she spoke, and what she was saying surprised him.

“I was 17 when I met Neal. I was happy, living with Ruth and things were going well in my life. She had officially adopted me, and I was truly happy for the first time in my life. He seemed perfect, a few years older than me. Ruth didn’t like him at all, so we had to sneak around to see each other. My teenage heart fell hard and fast for him. One day he asked me to run away with him. I adamantly refused, but then he told me he was wanted for robbery. He had to leave the state. I was torn and also foolish.”

A tear slipped down Emma’s cheek and Killian used his thumb to dry the others threatening to fall.

“I agreed to grab a bag out of a locker for him, only to find out that it contained stolen watches. He placed one of the watches on my wrist and told me he loved me, and that’s when I decided that I would leave with him. But when I got to our usual meeting spot, all packed to leave, the only person that greeted me was a cop.”

“He set you up?” Killian asked, stunned. She nodded her head.

“The judge took pity on me, and since I was still a minor I was placed under house arrest for two months, only being allowed to leave for school. The hardest part was seeing the disappointment on David and Ruth’s faces. It took time, but I eventually earned back their trust.”

Now Killian understood everything. Her unwillingness to trust, David’s overprotective big brother act. She had her life nearly ruined and her heart broken all at once. It was the worst kind of betrayal. Yet he had come into her life so suddenly and she had let him. It was apparent to him now more than ever, that they were truly meant to be. He was going to prove it to her, no matter how long it took.

“Neal was a fool. When I win your heart, Emma, and I will win it, it won’t be because of any trickery, it will be because you want me.”

Emma gasped at his words. She looked at him with awe and what he hoped were similar feelings. She leaned in and pressed her lips to his. He responded instantly, moving slowly and cautiously. Her lips were silky and slightly salty from tears. It wasn’t how he imagined their first kiss, but it was perfect all the same. “I know,” she whispered against his mouth before pulling away. He held her until she fell asleep. He shifted them carefully so that his back was to the couch, and she was cradled against him. He wished he could end every night with her in his arms.

It would be weeks before Emma would kiss him again. She had to work on New Year’s Eve so he missed that golden opportunity. She understandably was not a fan of Valentine’s Day, so he treated it like any other day, until midnight when he handed her a single red rose on his way out the door and murmured, “Happy February 15th, love.” She unexpectedly grabbed his jacket collar and hauled him to her lips. It was a sharp contrast to their first kiss. Her mouth moved hard and passionately against his, her tongue sliding along his lips, demanding entrance. He groaned at the taste of her, chocolate and cinnamon. Her hands moved to the back of his head where she threaded her fingers through his hair. The kiss got his blood rushing to the point that he didn’t want to say goodnight. He pulled back regretfully as Emma chased his lips. He was breathless at first, unable to speak.

“Happy February 15th, Killian,” she said with a shy smile. “Goodnight.”

“Indeed,” was all he could say. She closed the door and he had to take a deep breath to get his bearings. She would be the death of him for sure.

Spring arrived with the chance for Killian to resume filming. He and Emma would share the occasional secret kiss, but he had yet to take her on a date. Not for lack of wanting to, but Emma had asked that they wait. He reluctantly heeded her request. He distracted himself by throwing himself into his film. He would sail his crew to the cape on weekends and get footage of the exact location that the Whydah, Black Sam’s ship, went down centuries ago. He enlisted some residents of the small coastal town as extras and even found a woman willing to play Mary Hallet, Sam’s mysterious love. It was a sad tale of woe and loss. Mary had been waiting for him to come home with enough money so that her father would give his blessing. Having accomplished his goal, he raced to the cape, only to get caught in a storm just a few hundred yards from land. Of course, the love story may have been exaggerated and is mostly considered folklore by scholars, which he mentioned in the film, but it was the story that he wanted to tell.

It was a warm April afternoon when he announced to his crew and actors that filming had wrapped. They were given a warm send-off by the locals the next day, before he made his way back to Emma. He still had a lot of post-production work to do, but at least he would see Emma at night.

Killian submitted his completed film a week before graduation. He was proud of their work, the film turned out better than he thought possible on a student budget. Since he and Emma were both graduating, Liam and the crew at Neverland threw them both a party.

“What will you do now?” Emma asked him after they had feasted on pizza.

“I suppose I will start by sending my resume to every production company that produces documentaries. What about you, love?”

“I submitted my resume to the Boston PD. I’m just waiting to hear back. I’m really nervous,” she replied shyly.

“Emma, there is no reason for you to be nervous. You have loads of experience with the University’s police department,” he started, ticking up his fingers with each accomplishment, “you’ve broken records in physical fitness training, put in voluntary hours at community events, have a high gpa, and excellent references and recommendation letters. What police department wouldn’t want you?”

She blushed at his praise. “Thank you Killian. I could say most of those things about you.”

He smiled and placed a tender kiss on her cheek. “I have a feeling, everything is going to work out for us.”

Two weeks later, Emma started work at the Boston PD and Killian was beaming with pride. He knew she could do it, his beautiful Swan. He had every intention of finally asking her out on a proper date when fate stepped in.

A few short days after Emma started training at her job, Killian got a letter in the mail from a production company he didn’t remember applying to. Authentic Entertainment never hired fresh graduates without some professional experience. When he opened the letter his heart nearly stopped.

----------

Emma had just finished a shower and was slipping on a comfortable shirt when Killian came crashing through her door.

“Emma!” he called from the kitchen.

She checked her reflection and rushed out to see what all the commotion was about. He was donning the largest smile she had ever seen, so at least it was good news. He lunged for her, picking her up and spinning them.

“Killian, what is going on?” she gasped as he set her down gently. His happiness was infectious as evidenced by the giggles escaping her mouth. He handed her the letter. “Authentic Entertainment Production Company,” she read, as realization dawned on her. “You’ve been offered a job. Killian, that’s wonderful!” she declared as she threw her arms around his neck. “Is this one of your top choices?”

“Nope, I didn’t even apply because it’s a highly respected company that only hires experienced professionals. Apparently, my professor sent them my film, without my knowledge, and they are offering me the chance to make a high budget version of it for the History Channel.”

“You were right, everything is working out for both of us. When will you begin?”

“I leave at the end of the month.”

“Leave?” she inquired, dread washing over her.

“Aye, we’re to film on location in the Caribbean. I’ve been asked to direct and act as a historical advisor.”

She visibly deflated. Then she felt Killian’s hand caress her cheek. “Emma, I don’t want to leave you, that’s the last thing I want, but this is the chance of a lifetime. If I don’t muck this up, I’ll likely have my choice of projects in the future. I’ll not have to take a job that takes me far from you without a scheduled return.”

“I know, and I would never ask you to give this up. I’ll just miss you so much. When will you come back?” She could feel hot tears begin to well up in her eyes.

“End of August, before hurricane season sets in,” he uttered remorsefully.

The tears started to fall freely now. “Three months,” she whispered shakily. He pulled her into his arms and she could feel her tears mixing with his.

“But I will come back to you Emma, I will always come back to you,” he spoke huskily against her neck.

They spent the rest of the evening together, mostly embraced in each other’s arms. The end of the month was next week so Emma planned to spend as much time with Killian as she could, before she had to give him up.

“Emma, he is leaving tomorrow, you have to tell him,” Mary Margaret stated diligently. “He deserves to know. Besides, it may motivate him to come back sooner.”

Emma had confided in her friends the night before that she was, without a doubt, in love with Killian Jones. There was no more denying it, no more excuses.

“I know. I’m taking him to the airport after my shift. I swear I’ll tell him then.”

“You better, because that man is the best thing that has ever happened to you. And he worships the ground you walk on,” Ruby added.

Emma felt her face heat up from her friend’s assurances. Killian had never explicitly confessed his love for her, but he found other adorable ways to make it known. She still felt that little bit of self-doubt stir up inside her from time to time, but she didn’t want to lose him. It was time to put on her big girl panties and face her feelings head on. She wished she could tell him tonight, but he had a lot to do to prepare for his departure, and phone calls to make. She went to bed that night with nervous butterflies flitting about in her stomach.

“Swan, you’ll be covering Spicoli’s shift tonight,” Captain Holt declared during their morning staff meeting. Emma’s stomach lurched at the news.

“No, there has to be someone else,” she panicked. “I have to take someone to the airport today.”

“Then that person will just have to find another ride. You’re still a rookie and therefore expected to fill in when someone is sick,” he stated with authority.

There was no arguing with the Captain. She struggled to keep her composure as she texted Killian the bad news. He was understandably upset about not getting to say goodbye, but also so supportive of her situation. She couldn’t tell him through text message about her feelings. No, that was something that he needed to hear in person, so she settled on telling him the instant he returned. Luckily, he didn’t have to take a cab. David offered to take him when she had texted him about her dilemma.

Later that night when she stumbled through her door, exhaustedly, she discovered her girlfriends all waiting for her with popcorn and milk duds and a slew of sappy romance movies. She lost it right there in her doorway, sobbing uncontrollably. Ruby lunged for her before she crumbled to the floor.

“It’s alright sweetie, we’re going to help you get through this,” she cooed comfortingly, tears trickling down her own cheeks. They sat on some blankets on the floor in a huddled mass, tears flowing freely from everyone. Emma fell asleep halfway through the first movie, flanked by Ruby and Elsa. In that moment she had never been more grateful for her friends, her family.

The first month was the hardest. She would talk to Killian at night when he returned to his hotel. Unfortunately, cell service was spotty at best, so they had to settle for using the landline. She missed his face, his expressive eyebrows, his smirking lips and most of all, his ocean blue eyes. He would regale her with his daily adventures. They had a reproduced 18th century pirate ship named The Lady Washington that Killian had fallen in love with at first site. She could picture him sitting in the director’s chair, no scratch that, he’d be too excited to sit, advising a surly crew of swashbucklers how to speak and act like pirates.

The second month Emma threw herself into her work, graduating the trainee program to become an official trooper. Her colleagues admired and respected her, and she was no longer the rookie. Her partner, Jefferson, was quirky, possibly slightly mad, but the harmless type. She visited Liam and the Neverland crew often. One of those evenings, Liam approached her with an interesting question.

“Emma, you know Elsa better than anyone,” he said nervously. “What kind of… jewelry does she like?”

“You can’t go wrong with a princess cut,” she answered knowingly. He blushed and she assured him, his secret was safe with her.

The third month had finally arrived. Killian’s crew had traveled to Jamaica to get some town shots so he was able to FaceTime her for the evening. She awaited the call anxiously, checking the mirror countless times to make sure she didn’t have anything hanging out of her nose or something in her teeth. Then the call came.

“Hello, beautiful,” he greeted with an elated smile.

“Hello, handsome.”

“I prefer devilishly handsome.”

Emma giggled at his quip. His hair had gotten shaggier and his scruff just a titch longer. He had a sunkissed tan that gave him a ruggedness that was outright sinful. No man had a right to be that sexy.

“How was your day? Arrest any thugs?”

“Or pirates?”

“Touche, you can arrest me anytime you’d like when I get back, Swan,” he said with a wink.

“Just give me a reason.” His eyes darkened the moment the words left her lips.

“Challenge accepted, love.”

“Please, you couldn’t handle it,” she teased.

“Perhaps you are the one who couldn’t handle it.” He popped the “t” in a way that made it feel lewd. Her abdomen coiled tightly as her body responded to his words.

All she wanted to do in that moment was pull him forcefully to her lips and claim his mouth. She thought about their second kiss, the fact that he knew how to use that sinful tongue of his. She thought about him lavishing her entire body with the damn thing.

“Love, are you alright? Where did you go just now?”

She snapped herself out of her fantasy and greeted his lustful eyes and smirk. He knew, the bastard knew exactly where she had gone.

“I’m fine,” she answered a little too high pitched for her liking. He licked his bottom lip lasciviously and gave a slight nod to indicate he was finished torturing her, for now.

The rest of the conversation revolved around schedules and planned shoots. If they stayed on schedule he would be returning on August 24th, a day she promptly marked on her calendar. After an extended yawn from her, he insisted that she get some sleep. She was reluctant to hang up.

“I miss you, Emma,” he declared with the same yearning look and doey eyes that Regina had pointed out to her. She was sure her face reflected his.

“I miss you too, so much Killian. Come back to me, come home.” It wasn’t a plea for him to drop everything and race home. It was meant to be a reminder of his promise.

“I will, my love, as sure as the sun rises, I’ll come back to you, always. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, my devilishly handsome pirate,” she said with a watery chuckle.

He ended the call with a smile that stuck in her mind and inspired dreams of their reunion.

Emma and Jefferson arrived at the station with a very disgruntled perp. He had been caught smashing out car windows in covered parking lots.

“Nice work guys, we’ve been looking for this one for a long time,” the Captain noted.

“It was all Emma, Cap. She spotted him and ran the guy down in a matter of minutes.”

“Swan, in my office please.”

Emma was nervous. The Captain had never called her into his office before. However, few things could get her down today. Killian was scheduled to come home any day now. They just needed a few more shots.

“Don’t worry, Swan, I didn’t call you in here to berate you about anything.” Emma let out an audible sigh. “I actually wanted to discuss your career path. Where do you see yourself five years from now?”

Killian’s face as well as a house near the waterfront flashed through her mind. But the Captain certainly wasn’t asking about her personal life.

“I see myself here, working a case as a detective.”

“Those are some high aspirations, but I do believe you’ve got what it takes.” He nodded, indicating that the meeting was over.

When her shift ended she rushed home, anxious to hear if Killian was coming home. She’d been on edge since their last call when he told her that any sailor worth his salt knows when a storm is brewing. She immediately turned on the Weather Channel only to see that Killian was right. Not just any storm, but a hurricane. The last time she had checked, their location in the Caribbean was not in the path of the monster.

When she managed to make it home, Ruby already had the Weather Channel on. Ruby turned to her, and the look on her face made Emma’s heart sink.

“Ruby,” Emma started cautiously, “please tell me everything is fine.”

“I can’t. The storm changed course Emma. It’s projected to hit Santo Domingo head on and very soon.”

Killian’s current location was only fifty miles from the capital city.

“It’s only five-thirty, what if they’re still out on the water?” Her words were laced with panic and fear.

Ruby couldn’t do anything except pull her into a protective hug. “Killian is a masterful sailor, he’s smart and resourceful. If they are on the water when it hits, he’ll know what has to be done to get them through it. Nothing, not even mother fucking nature, can stop him from getting back to you,” she spoke adamantly.

Emma nodded, then followed Ruby to the couch where they continued to watch images of trees being whipped every which way. The sight of the waves on the beach made her blanch. Concern was building inside her with every minute that went by without a phone call. Friends and family were trickling in as night fell, but Emma hadn’t noticed. She was in a fear induced trance. The hurricane was battering Santo Domingo and everything within a one hundred mile radius. Mary Margaret squeezed her hand, momentarily breaking her out of the haze.

“He’ll be alright, Emma, he always struck me as the survivor type.”

“It’s true.”

Emma jumped at the accented voice. When did Liam get here?

“When Killian was 16 he acquired a job on a fishing boat. They would go out on weekends and I would always worry for him. My fears proved warranted when they sailed right into a squall. The boat’s engine was damaged by floating debris as it rocked back and forth violently. Killian was small enough to climb under the fallen articles to repair the engine.”

“He knew how to do that?” Elsa interrupted.

“Aye, Killian has always been curious about how things work, and in the past had taken our car’s engine apart just to see if he could put it back together again.” Unshed tears threatened to fall as Liam continued to reminisce. “I was so angry with him, sure that he had broken the car. Of course, I turned the key and the thing ran beautifully, and you can imagine the smug smile he gave me.” Everyone chuckled because they’d all been on the receiving end of the smug grin. “Anyway, my point being, Killian fixed the engine and saved the lives of every soul on board, in the worst conditions, just like he’ll do again, because he is a survivor.”

Emma grasped Liam’s arm. “Thank you, Liam. He never told me about that.”

“That’s because my brother is too humble to brag about it.” Liam pulled Emma in for a bear hug that she didn’t know she needed. Emma desperately wished she was in Killian’s arms at the moment. “I also came by to bring you this.” He handed her a large envelope. “I was supposed to give it to Killian months ago, but I misplaced it and Elsa is the one who found it when she was helping me clean the office. I’m really sorry, Emma,” he said sheepishly.

Emma opened the envelope and out slid an 8 by 10 inch photo of her and Killian from the night of the costume party. Her sharp intake of breath was followed by a shaky sigh. She remembered Killian holding her bridal style, but she figured he had smiled at the camera, but there he was lovingly staring at her, smiling at her.

“Thank you, Liam,” she said on a choked sob. She placed the photo back in its envelope, vowing to only view it again when she could share it with Killian.

Someone was always with Emma during the waiting period. It had been nearly 24 hours since the category four hurricane hit land. The weather channel continued to report on the damage that Patty had inflicted.

Emma just stared into the blasted box, unaware that another day had gone by. She had called in to work to tell them she would be taking her paid vacation days until she heard from Killian. If she heard from Killian. Mary Margaret had begged her not to think like that, but it was getting harder with each passing day.

Emma was a mess by the fourth day. Mary Margaret, Ruby, and Belle were cleaning up after dinner when they heard her mumble something.

“What did you say, honey?” Ruby asked, grabbing her hand.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” she choked out.

“No Emma, don’t.” Ruby placed her hands on each side of Emma’s head. “Keep in mind that most of that area doesn’t have electricity yet. He’s probably having trouble locating a satellite phone. He’ll call, don’t stop believing in him.”

“And if he doesn’t? God, I never even told him I love him.” Moisture was streaming down her tear stained cheeks. “And now I may never get that chance.” Her body heaved with each cry of anguish. “He’ll never know… he’ll never know,” she repeated until words were impossible to form.

Ruby laid her down on the couch, begging her to get some sleep. What a foreign concept sleep had become. She’d had none since the night before the hurricane. She must have passed out because the next thing she knew it was dark outside.

“It’s just past eight,” Mary Margaret informed her.

Suddenly her phone rang, awakening some hope in her. She looked at the foreign number lit up across her screen. Any other day she would decline, but she was desperate. What if Killian had found a satellite phone after all. The dread Emma felt at the thought of someone calling to inform her Killian had died made her want to vomit. But she had to take that chance. On a shaky breath, she answered.

“Hello?”

“Swan.”

One word. One single word had flipped her whole world right side up in that instant.

“Killian,” she sobbed. The water works were flowing now. Mary Margaret dropped what she was doing to join Emma’s side.

“Aye, I’m sorry it took so long to contact you.” He sounded breathless and a little shaken. “We were caught in the storm. The Lady will need some repair work, but we all made it.”

“That’s wonderful news. Do you know when you’ll be able to come home?”

“I’m afraid the airport won’t be an option for weeks, but I’ll secure passage on a cruise ship if I have to. I made you a promise and I intend to keep it, love.”

“Good,” was all Emma could say in that moment. He had to give up the phone so the rest of the crew could call their families, but he promised to call as soon as he had an exit plan. Emma suddenly felt hungry, starving actually. She ate some delicious leftovers that Mary Margaret had made the day before and then she felt the overwhelming need to sleep. Sleep away all the agony, all the pain.

Killian called two days later with news that he was boarding a cruise ship bound for Boston. They would be making some stops along the way to drop survivors off at different ports. With the airport out of commission, cruise companies were offering services to people who needed to get back to the states. It’d take eight days, but Killian was finally on his way back to her.

“Are you ready for this?” Ruby asked her the morning of Killian’s arrival.

“As ready as I’ll ever be. I’m supposed to be at the the Boston Cruise Terminal by six o’ clock.”

“Well, I’m staying at Victor’s place tonight if you wanna, you know, bring him back here and have your wicked way with him,” she winked, and Emma’s stomach flipped.

“He’s probably going to be exhausted, Rubes.”

“Oh, right, from all that lounging by the pool and eating delicious food.”

Emma chuckled at the image of Killian doing those things, because that’s not what he would be doing at all. He would probably buddy up with the Captain and get inside the helm.

“Anyway, sweetie, the place is all yours. I packed enough for two days so don’t worry about any interruptions.”

“Ruby, he has a brother he probably wants to see. I’m not gonna trap him in here for a two day sex marathon.”

“Whatever you say, Emma… bye,” she chortled as she shut the door.

Emma paced outside the cruise terminal, choosing to stay clear of the large crowd of people who had come to pick up their loved ones. She anxiously watched as one by one passengers exited the building. Sounds of joy and relief filled the area. Then she saw it, a shock of black hair as he whipped it out of his face. And then she ran to him.

----------

The moment his eyes met hers all instinct to breathe was forgotten. He dropped his bag and awaited her embrace as she ran to him. She leapt into his arms, legs wrapped securely around him as her arms looped around his head. He could feel wetness against his neck as his own tears of joy rose to the surface.

“You’re really here, you came back to me,” she murmured against his neck.

“Did you ever doubt I would?”

She pulled away to bring their foreheads together. “Truthfully, the hurricane gave me pause.” She backed her head up just enough so her eyes were on his. “I love you, Killian, so much.”

She punctuated her declaration with a searing kiss that had Killian feeling weightless, even with her body still wrapped around his. Her lips were just as soft, just as supple as he remembered. He groaned with pleasure when her tongue slipped in, frantically tasting all of him. She moaned when he nibbled on her bottom lip and that’s when they heard a cough. He reluctantly released Emma’s kiss swollen lips as she unwound her legs. Flushed and slightly breathless, Killian tilted Emma’s chin up so their gazes met again.

“I’ve been in love with you, Emma, since the night we met.” She let out a watery chuckle at Killian’s admission. “How about we go somewhere with a little more privacy, love?” he asked, realizing they now had an audience.

“I’d like that.”

Emma contacted an Uber that mercifully was right around the corner from the terminal.  Once inside the car, he called Liam to let him know he’d made it home, well, in the metaphorical sense anyway. They agreed to meet at Neverland for a welcome home beer the following night. He couldn’t wait to get Emma alone, where he intended to shower her with his affections. His need for her grew stronger the closer they got to their destination. Emma had given the driver her address, and with any luck, Killian hoped Ruby would be gone for the evening.

The car pulled up to Emma’s place and she nearly pulled his arm out of its socket when she yanked him out of the car with her. “Someone’s eager,” he murmured against the shell of her ear.

“And you love me for it.”

She slammed the door shut and assisted with carrying his bags up the four flights of stairs. They were nearly out of breath when they finally reached her door, but Killian had no intentions of letting a little thing like oxygen, or lack of, ruin his plan to resume what they had started. He longed to feel Emma’s strong legs wrapped around him again. She pushed open the door, and after throwing his bag on the ground, he whipped Emma around, slamming his body into hers as he claimed her lips once more. He backed her up until she was flat against the door. His right hand flew to her golden tresses while his left trailed down her side, making her shiver.

Her hands had found their way into his hair, raking her fingers through it. Their tongues danced around each other, moving in a practiced rhythm like they had done this for years. He pulled away only for sheer need of air, breathing in between wet kisses he was peppering down her neck. Emma let out a delicious moan that shot straight to his throbbing cock when he hit her pulse point, so naturally, he doubled his efforts.

“Killian,” she whined. “Wait.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. Was it possible Emma didn’t want the same thing? He cautiously met her gaze, but found her eyes filled with lust and want. Now he was really confused.

“I sort of, had a plan,” she explained coyly.

“Aye?”

“I need you to take off everything except your underwear and wait here.” He cocked his brow and felt his arousal build when she mirrored his expression. He desperately wanted to peel her out of her clothing, but his curiosity won out.

“Alright, Swan, I’ll play along,” he leered at her. “Just don’t be long,” he leaned in and grazed her ear with his nose, “or I may have to start without you.” He watched her slender neck as she swallowed hard at his assertion. She turned without saying anything and retreated to her bedroom. Moving quickly, he pulled off his shirt and it threw aside, then worked on his belt and gingerly slid his pants over his aching erection. He now stood clothed only in his blue boxers, decorated with little black anchors.

Suddenly he heard a heartbeat, then another, Emma’s plan becoming clear to him when the beginning chords of Feel Again started blasting through her speaker. Then the object of his affection stepped out of her room, clad only in that same alluring red lace bra and panty set. He moved to lunge for her, but she held up a finger to stop him. Then she began swaying her hips and twirling, and that same finger crooked in a come hither motion. His Swan wasn’t the only one who could cut a move in their knickers. He shook his hips to the beat and threw in some fancy footwork like a discount Bruno Mars. Emma was beaming at him by the time they reached one another. He leaned in to kiss her, but she turned suddenly and he growled at the sensation of her supple ass rubbing relentlessly along his length. She threw herself into a bent position as she continued to dry hump him with her barely covered backside, driving him mad with desire. Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore, she righted herself and spun back to his front.

“You’re a bloody marvel,” he uttered in a gravelly voice.

“I know.”

He captured her lips in a passionate, needy kiss. She responded with the same white hot fervor. He moved his hands to her hips and hoisted her up, loving the feel of her, once again, wrapped around him. He carried her to her bedroom, all the while having to endure the sweet torture of her tongue lavishing his pulse point, giving him a pretty good idea of what she could do with that devilish muscle elsewhere. She nipped at his earlobe, nearly sending both of them crashing to the ground.

“Minx,” he huffed, finally reaching his destination.

Killian had seen many beautiful sights in his life, three different oceans, the English countryside, but none compared to the beauty of Emma Swan splayed out on her bed after he had unceremoniously thrown her onto it. Her pale skin flushed down to the swell of her still covered breasts. The teasing manner in which she ran her hand down her neck, over her heaving breast and along her taut stomach. The same path Killian wanted to follow with his tongue, only not stopping at the hem of her panties.

“Killian... I need you.”

Her plea snapped him out of his reverie, and he heeded her request. He climbed onto the bed like a predator stalking its prey. When he came face to face with her, it was as if time stood still. She gazed at him with such love and sincerity, striking him witless.

“I love you,” she breathed. “I love you so damn much.”

He brushed the pad of his thumb across the apple of her cheek. “And I love you, Emma, to the end of the world or time.”

When he kissed her then, it was unhurried and with a need to convey the depth of his love for her. The gentle caress of Emma’s lips, the woman who had given her heart to him, truly, shook him to his core. She was his, finally, and he was hers. That thought reignited the flame, his need for her growing. She responded by rutting her hips against his groin, coaxing a guttural groan from him. Moving his mouth to her neck, he reached around her arched back and unhooked her bra. He’d be pretty impressed with his work if he wasn’t so far gone. He threw the offending material off the bed and gazed upon her newly revealed flesh. Her perfect pink nipples were already pebbled, anticipating his next move. He would taste them, but first he needed to return his attention to her neck, dead set on following the path Emma had previously drawn for him. Like a pirate, seeking buried treasure. His hand, however, wandered down the expanse of her body and slipped into her knickers. What he found there had him cursing.

“Fuck… so wet and ready for me, darling,” he hissed into her neck. He retracted his hand, delighting in the little whimper of protest he heard leave Emma’s lips. He needed that hand if he was going to properly worship his Swan.

He moved lower, teeth nipping at her collar bone. Emma was writhing under his ministrations, but he needed more from her. He needed to hear her cry out for him. He reached the swell of her breast, his hunger for her increasing. He traced a slow circle around her pebbled flesh then took it into his mouth, sucking gently.

“Fuck!”

He smiled against her, intermittently flicking the bud with his tongue and sucking it into a stiff peak. He diverted from the map only to show her other breast the same attention, then lowered himself to place hot, wet kisses across her belly. Emma’s breathing became rapid when he traced the hem of her panties with his tongue. Killian met her hazed eyes, looking for any sign that she didn’t want this. Finding none, he hooked his finger under her panties and tugged them off, throwing them to join her bra. He had found where “x” marked the spot, now he just had to do a little digging. Killian urged her legs further apart as he inhaled the overwhelming scent of her arousal. Without warning, he licked one long stripe with the flat of his tongue from her entrance to her clit, eliciting a yelp from Emma. Her taste was intoxicating, surely likened to ambrosia. He returned his tongue to her clit, flicking it wildly then taking it into his mouth and sucking hard.

“Oh, God, Killian… yes!” she screamed, rolling her hips and panting erratically.

He devoured her like a man starved. Tracing circles around her swollen nub, swirling her bundle of nerves. He pushed one finger into her slick heat, earning him a moan from above. Then another as he continued to lave and suck on her, lapping up her juices. He relentlessly plunged his fingers into her, searching for that spot that would trigger her first orgasm. He knew he’d found it when Emma’s body convulsed. The tell tell sign of her inner muscles fluttering around his fingers told him she was close. He sucked hard on her clit, using his teeth as extra stimulation and then he heard Emma cry out as she pulsed around him. He gently eased her down from her high, giving her sensitive flesh one last good lick before kissing his way back up her body.

“I need you now, Killian, please, make love to me,” she begged on a heavy sigh. Killian was all too willing to oblige.

“Condoms?”

Emma met his eyes. “I’m protected and I… I trust you. I want to feel you, Killian, all of you.”

A puff of air escaped his mouth. Emma would never stop surprising him, and his love for her would truly never stop growing. He leaned in to place a gentle kiss to each cheek, her nose, and then brushed a chaste kiss to her lips. When he pulled away her eyes fluttered open, confusion etched in her features.

“I love you,” he kissed her again. “I love you,” another kiss, with more heat. “I love you,” he muttered against her mouth.

“I love you too,” she laughed against his lips.

The kiss morphed into a heated tangle of tongues. Any self-control Killian once possessed had evaporated with her words. She held him in the cradle of her thighs, his cock sliding through her slick folds, causing him to see stars. She snaked her hand down her body and grasped his throbbing length, lining him up with her entrance. He sank into her slowly, his eyes never leaving hers as he felt her walls envelop him, the sensation sending a shock up his spine. He shuddered when he was fully seated. Emma let out a satisfied moan and rolled her hips, encouraging him to move. He pulled almost completely out then slammed back in, eliciting a much louder moan. He set a rapid pace, studying Emma’s reaction to every thrust. Emma’s cries of ecstasy and the scrape of her nails along his back had him teetering on the edge. He was getting close and he needed Emma to get there too. He angled his hips a little higher and she gasped on his next surge forward.

“Yes, Killian, right there, don’t stop!”

“Never.” He doubled his efforts, savoring Emma’s cries of pleasure. The sound of skin slapping skin urging him on. “Come for me, my love. Come around me and take me with you.”

That was all it took. He barely had any warning before Emma screamed with pleasure and clenched hard around him. His thrusts became erratic as he chased his release. The pressure at the base of his spine was too much and he came with a shout into Emma’s damp neck. She cradled his head, running her fingers through his hair as he caught his breath. He slipped out of her and rolled to his side to take in the beautiful sight currently coming down from orgasmic bliss.

----------

Emma’s body was both limp and electrified. She turned her head to find Killian staring at her.

“What?”

“I’m just taking a mental picture, love.”

Picture. For some reason she couldn’t wait a second longer to show Killian the photo that Liam had given her. She leapt out of bed, much to Killian’s surprise and delight.

“Should I be worried, love?” he called to her as she ran into the the front room completely naked. She retrieved the envelope from a small desk on the far end of the room and hurried back, jumping into bed. “What has you so exhilarated, Swan?” he asked on a laugh. He had risen to a sitting position now, back against the headboard.

“I wanted to show you this. Liam dropped it off when we were waiting to hear from you and I looked at it just once, but it didn’t seem right to see it again without you,” she said with a watery chuckle. She handed him the photo and a broad smile lit up his face.

“Do you know Emma, that in the very moment this photo was taken, I realized you were the love of my life. I knew then that you were it for me, and I made a vow to do everything in my power to encourage you to have those same feelings for me one day. Even if it took a lifetime.”

The raw emotion in Killian’s confession made Emma’s heart burst. She couldn’t help the tears of pure joy that were welling in her eyes. Nothing she could say could express what she was feeling in that moment so instead she expressed them with action. She took the photo from his hands and lovingly placed it on her nightstand then climbed into his lap and kissed him with everything she had. She could feel him growing hard against her still wet core. He gave a groan of approval as she rolled her hips into his again and again, each time with more vigor. He flipped them so that Emma was on her back, his cock sliding maddeningly through her slick folds. But this time, Emma wanted to take control. She rolled them quite forcefully so she was once again on top. Killian made no sound of protest as he ogled her breasts on full display, but just out of reach.

“You see Killian, I’m a woman of action. I’ve never been any good with expressing my feelings through fancy words like you. So I’m going to show you that I,” she leaned down to place a quick kiss to his lips, “feel,” a second kiss to his neck, earning her a growl, “exactly,” a third kiss to his chest, “the,” a fourth kiss to his navel, his breathing kicking up a notch, “same.” She kissed the tip of his hard cock, licking the precum that had spread across her lips. “Mmm,” she moaned and he gave a pained groan. Showing him the tiniest of mercies, she licked around his belled tip causing him to grip her hair ever so gently, pleading for more. She took him fully into her mouth and relished the animalistic growl that flew from his mouth. The taste of their combined essence drove her mad with want. She bobbed her head, licking every last inch of him. It was when his tip hit the back of her throat that Killian finally found his words.

“Emma…” he pleaded. “Please, I need to be to be inside you, love. I don’t wish to come this way, not this time anyway.”

She released him with a wet pop and a self satisfied smirk graced her lips. As he fought to gain his composure, she climbed on top of his lap and sank onto his throbbing cock. They both let out sighs of relief at being joined once more. After a moment, Emma began rocking her hips, loving the little grunts and groans she could draw from his pretty mouth. Once she started lifting her hips in a swift motion, Killian watched in awe as her breasts bounced with every strenuous thrust. He suddenly sat up, changing the angle and making Emma gasp in ecstasy. He pulled a nipple into his mouth and sucked arduously, adding to the tightening swirl in his abdomen that she knew would burst at any moment.

“I love you, Emma, you’re my true love, nothing will ever change that,” he gasped out against her neck. Emma felt the floodgates break as her body shook from the most intense orgasm of her life. She came on a silent scream, Killian wasn’t far behind her as he emptied himself inside her. They both fell to the bed, a sweaty and sated mess of tangled limbs.

Neither one could move much after Emma managed to roll herself off of her boyfriend. Killian quickly pulled her to him so her back fit snugly to his chest. After catching their breath, Killian started placing soft kisses to the back of her neck and shoulder. What he said next shook her to her very core.

“Move in with me.” It was phrased not quite like a question and she wasn’t sure if it was the post coital bliss that made him say it. Then he spoke again. “Marry me.” Again, it didn’t sound like a request, but Emma knew Killian would never force her into anything that would make her uncomfortable. “Make babies with me,” was his last plea that had Emma rolling over to meet his hopeful gaze. She could see the sincerity in his face and a hint of fear that he may have overstepped his bounds. Emma thought back to that time when Captain Holt had asked her where she saw herself in five years. The first images that popped into her head were of her and Killian living a blissfully happy life in a beautiful home, and now the image of staring lovingly at a precious baby in her arms was a part of Emma’s fantasy future that she desperately wanted.

She pulled Killian’s face to hers and kissed him lightly before declaring, “Yes.” Then she rolled herself on top of him and placed another soft, but sincere kiss to his lips before another yes slipped out. By now Killian was smiling widely, all fear and insecurity wiped from his features. The third yes came with a more passionate kiss, a promise that she wanted everything with him, forever.

Her friend Regina had bought the apples that contained the seeds of what would become a magnificent tree that was so very similar to those now on the other side of Emma’s window many years ago. Regina had always wanted a big apple tree in her yard, and she told Emma that when she first tasted the fruit of this one particular apple only available at this one particular farm, she knew it had to be that one. After trying one of the apples from the bags Regina had brought home, Emma had to agree.

Regina spent months trying to plant it before finally consulting a gardener – one Robin Locksley. Together – by Regina’s insistence together – they worked the land. As they worked, Regina began to swear to Emma that she was smelling marigolds all day long. She’d joke about him probably keeping seeds in his pockets.

It didn’t take long afterwards to realize what had happened. Regina had to ask Robin to be sure, but indeed, Robin’s favorite scent was those of marigolds.

When it came to the matter of the heart, everyone knew what it meant when you smelled someone’s favorite scent whenever you were in their presence. The world they lived in was by no means magical, but this was one truth that persisted throughout time that science could grant no other explanation. At the dawn of this realization, first recorded in journals from the Renaissance, the concept was thought to be a myth, but it was granted solidification as a fact through time and repetition.

Regina had found her soulmate.

Emma recalled Regina telling the story perfectly. Robin had laughed when she told him, but only at the fact that the pervasive smell of apples wasn’t just because of their efforts to grow the tree. The rest took care of itself. With their love secured, finally, not one, but two things grew. The first was Regina’s tree and the second was a love that was just as strong as the bark below the sunrise-colored leaves.

After a few years, the tree began to falter in its fruits. The apples lost their firmness and batch after batch became more inedible than the last. Regina and Robin had meant to go back to the same farm where Regina first got those apples. That was the plan.

But then life happened.

Time slipped away from them. Regina became mayor and their free weekends became fluxes of going to her stepson Roland’s baseball games and taking him to wilderness survival club meeting in between town meetings, tending to their neighbor’s trees and flowers, and general chores.

And then Robin became sick.

That’s where their story had left off, but it wouldn’t be the end if Emma had anything to say about it.

Emma wasn’t a doctor and there was little a bail bondsperson could do to take the occasional load off Regina’s back, not that it would probably be accepted, knowing Regina.

What she did have though was a currently empty schedule and the perfect idea for a gift that would lift the family’s spirits.

It was going to be a simple trip. Emma had made sure of it, and if everything went according to plan, she’d be home by midnight.

Can’t wait to spend another six hours on the road, as if the last six weren’t fun enough.

It would be a long day trip to be sure, but the shitty thing about her type of business was that one never knew when their next client would call asking for her immediate services, and the fact was that an apartment wedged in the corner of Maine didn’t pay for itself.

Google Maps had told her that she’d be approaching Jones Farms in just a few minutes, three to be precise.

Finally, after hours of passing through them, the forests came to an end and a subsequent clearing revealed a series of farms over the next few miles. Jones Farms was the fifth that Emma saw. She found the spot where she could park and her yellow bug – her sole companion on this elongated trip – at last got a well-deserved rest.

Emma got out of her car and as she stretched – a relief she couldn’t understate if she tried after such a long trip – she took in her surroundings. Right in front of her stood a wooden farm with a storefront alongside it and a wide stretch of trees behind it. Emma could just make out the sight of an apple or two across the distance. Just then, the door to the storefront opened, and Emma turned her attention that way. She noticed a man exit and come into her line of view, though somewhat masked by the shadow from underneath the roof of the patio. Upon taking notice of her, the man waved Emma over.

Emma was about to head to the storefront and get started on business. Then, as she took a deep breath of the crisp air, she smelled something she hadn’t expected alongside it.

Cinnamon?

The aroma didn’t as much dance up her nose as opposed to hit her nostrils like a brick to the face. And it wasn’t like Emma disliked it. It was actually the opposite, really. But it did leave a lingering question, one Emma couldn’t answer so easily:

Why did The Great Outdoors smell like a snickerdoodle?

Her curiosity as well as her mission compelled her to go forward towards the shop.

“Hello,” the man said. “Welcome to Jones Farms.” When Emma finally got close enough to make out the man’s features, she blinked.

To be fair, Emma didn’t know what to expect from the farm hands when she came here, but what she didn’t expect was him.

The man before Emma was roughly half a head taller than her. He had piercing blue eyes, dark brown hair with a set of bangs that were swept back, and a tasteful bit of scruff that peaked at the space between his nose and mouth and otherwise ran across his chin. A black jacket covered his upper torso and arms and below was a pair of dark jeans, but neither entirely masked the subtle hints of muscle.

All this to say, he was quite handsome.

Not a bad person to spend an hour or two with.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you before, but it’s nice to meet you all the same. Killian’s the name,” he went on to say, extending a hand. “Killian Jones.”

“Emma,” she responded meeting his hand with her own. “Emma Swan.” They shook, and Emma couldn’t describe it, but just the feeling of touching him was…nice.

His whole demeanor was nice, in fact.

No, not nice. Kind.

People were a generally easy read for Emma. One didn’t survive long as a bail bondsperson without such an ability. She’d always had an affinity for spotting lies for as long as she could remember, and the rest had developed with age. These days, Emma could easily tell someone’s intentions on sight, as if a map of their person was drawing itself right in front of her.

And right now, Killian’s map pointed to the big heart on his sleeves. It wasn’t a bad way to be. He was certainly more comfortable around new people than Emma tended to be, but Emma supposed that came with the job, customer service and all that. In any event, he had an air about him and Emma couldn’t help but find it infectious.

“It’s a pleasure. Now, how may I assist you today?”

“I’m looking for some Bloody Ploughmans.”

Killian raised both of his brows and bulged his eyes. “Such language,” he said, the mock offense in his voice as clear as glass, and a gloved hand clutching at his lapel as if to milk the reaction for even more. Emma gave a gentle roll of the eyes with a smirk that was quickly returned with a charming smile. “Sorry, can’t help but use that joke on the customers. To be fair, you would too if you had something with that name.” He released a small chuckle and Emma allowed her smirk to soften into a more genuine smile. Noticeably grateful, Killian gave a thankful nod. “In any event, a fine apple.”

“And you’re the only place that has them.”

“That’s because there’s few apple farmers who come from across the sea where they’re found.”

Emma nodded. The accent in his voice made it obvious that he was British.

“You’ve good taste,” Killian continued.

“Not me, actually,” Emma pointed out. “My friend. You may remember – she came here a few years ago – Regina Mills?”

Killian’s eyes brightened with what Emma could assume was recognition.

“Yes,” Killian confirmed. “I think a decade has past since then. I remember her because she insisted on trying every apple at the farm while she was here. People often make that promise – mostly kids – but she was the first to actually do it, and the only!” He started to laugh, and Emma found herself unexpectedly compelled to join in.

That’s Regina for you.

“She told me about that,” Emma said jovially. “And if you think that’s crazy, you should’ve seen her when her favorite cereal got discontinued! She broke open her piggy bank and dragged me all over town. We went to every supermarket and bought as many boxes as we could carry!”

“Did you two grow up together?” Killian was smiling at her.

“Yeah.”

“Relatives or friends?”

“Kind of both.”

Killian quirked his brow, looking as confused as a penguin in a desert. “I don’t follow.”

“Foster siblings,” Emma said, following a moment’s hesitation.

“Ah. Gotcha,” Killian said with a soft grin. His appreciation may have been unspoken, but the gentle sprouts of his dimples told Emma quite a bit of his gratefulness for sharing something like that to someone who was little more than a stranger.

It definitely made Emma feel better. She was always tremulous when it came to bringing up something like that, but though Killian had asked for specifics until it became unavoidable, it was clearly not his intention for her to reveal that and he’d given just the right reaction to it, leaving the ball in her court for more information without a bit of pressure.

“So anyway,” Emma resumed, getting back on topic, “Regina planted an apple tree with some seeds from that apple, but the fruit these days has got all these bumps on them  – Regina said it’s something called brown rot – and she wanted to grow another. She had a hard time getting back down here, so I came here to get them for her.”

“Quite a generous offer,” Kilian said. “Regina’s taste seemed to have remained the same, both in apples and in company.”

Emma smirked. “You use that line on all your customers?”

Killian returned the expression without missing a beat. “Only for the best.” Emma felt a compulsion to blush.

This guy’s either the best salesman in the world or he’s Superman.

Well, whatever he is, I’ve got to get moving. Besides, it’s starting to look cloudy.

“So, how about we get started?” Emma suggested. “Bloody Ploughmans are great and all – my favorites – but I really want to make this just a one day trip and traffic is probably going to be a bitch getting back to Maine as it is.” At the location of Emma’s hometown, Killian’s brow raised.

“Maine? Well, that’s one hell of a day trip, but I can surely understand, so, as the lady insists.”

Emma nodded gratefully, and as she did, she noticed the smell of cinnamon and how it was still so strong in the air.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask: What’s that smell? I feel like I’m in a bakery.”

Much to Emma’s confusion, Killian gaped and the brow that was already raised as well as its brother practically flew out of his head. “Is this really your first time visiting an apple farm?”

“Yeah,” Emma answered, stuck between feeling guilty and laughing at the expression on Killian’s face through her befuddlement at the question.

With a click of his tongue, Killian smirked. “No wonder. You’ve never had an apple cider donut?”

Apple cider donut?

The words flowed off Killian’s tongue, and mental images of the idea of the snack started floating through Emma’s head. To add to that, the traces of cinnamon in the air made it all the more enticing. “Can’t say I have. They sound pretty good.”

“They’re better than good, Emma.” Killian pressed his lips together and looked at his store thoughtfully for a brief moment before turning back to Emma. “You know what, Emma? Come on in. I’ll give you a freshly made one, on the house.”

Emma was about to decline at the behest of her inner-chiding about her already expected-to-be long ride home, but her gurgling stomach betrayed her. Another smirk crossed Killian’s face, and if it didn’t look so good on his face, Emma might just be annoyed by it. Regardless, she was hungry and the donuts sounded delicious. “Lead the way,” she said as she signaled for him to do just that with a finger pointed towards the door.

“It’s weird though,” Killian commented as they enclosed on the shop’s entrance.

“What?”

“I smell the donuts too, but I haven’t made any today.” Killian then shrugged. “But then again, that machine is powerful and it’s old, too. Perhaps it’s just gotten a bit of a residual smell with age.”

Emma shrugged. “Makes sense to me.”

“But trust me when I say this, Emma: If you think the cinnamon is powerful now, when this thing gets kicking, your nose will be straight-up filled with the stuff.”

And whether it was the hunger softly making itself known through the pangs in her stomach or the aroma that she started to feel acting as a premonition for the success for the rest of the day going forward, but Emma found the idea of a cinnamon-filled shop to be not only delightful, but also worthy of a show of delight and one final disclosement about herself.

“Well,” Emma said, smiling. “Cinnamon just happens to be my favorite smell, so get cooking.” Killian grinned and with that, he opened the door to the store and the two of them walked in.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

True enough to Emma’s expectations and Killian’s word, as soon as Killian put the apple cider donut machine to work, the smell of cinnamon grew ten times stronger.

The batter, Killian told Emma, had already been prepared and refrigerated the night before, so all he had to do was place some in the machine, and it would do the rest. Watching it go was quite the spectacle. The machine molded the batter into the correct shape for the donuts and plopped them onto a conveyor belt that would from there take them to be fried and adorned with their cinnamon sugar coating. It was a cool process to watch and Emma would’ve been lying if she said otherwise.

The two of them filled the time waiting for the donuts to finish with light conversation, first with a cursory tour around the store, and afterwards with Killian showing Emma how his apple cider machine worked.

When the donuts were at last done, Killian stood at the end of the donut-making machine, grinning like a mad scientist as the coating was sprinkled on the freshly fried pastries. “Gotta love that smell – the cinnamon and sugar coming together. Best in the world if you ask me!”

“It does smell good.” Emma took another whiff and felt goosebumps as she took it is. “I love my cinnamon candle at home, but it has nothing on this.”

“And it gets even better! Just wait until you taste one!” A moment later, an apple cider donut was in her hand and another in Killian’s. He clinked their donuts together and took a bite, with Emma immediately following suit.

What next hit Emma’s lips she could most closely describe as a lightning bolt of sweetness. Sugar and cinnamon so fresh that Emma swore they came off their original plants spread across her tongue like fireworks. The pastry itself hit her teeth like a goose down pillow and when it opened, the texture of warm cake spread through her mouth. Emma closed her eyes as she absorbed the taste while the rest of her donut radiated warmth between her fingers.

Ooh. Is that–?

“Cinnamon? Yup, it’s in the donut batter too,” Killian said. Emma nearly choked on her donut, releasing a cough so that she wouldn’t spit out her food. Her eyes bulged open.

Is he psychic?

Killian seemed to think so. At Emma’s reaction, he gave her a shit-eating grin. “You’re a surprisingly easy read, Emma, and even for me.”

“You read everyone so well?”

“All part of the job, love. I’m quite an old hat at it.”

No, not psychic. Just cocky.

Though I’ll admit: cocky looks good on him.

Emma returned the smirk, not ready to be defeated at the game she excelled so well at. “Well, I’m pretty good at reading people too, and you’re not exactly War and Peace yourself.”

“Oh yeah?” Killian asked, his smirk having grown somehow even wider than before. “Then what am I thinking?”

This is too easy.

“You’re itching for me stroke your ego and compliment your donuts,” Emma answered, with not a single beat missed in the process. Killian looked impressed, his cocky smirk still present, but his eyes forfeiting his amazement.

“Very good. Now will you?”

She took a deep breath, revelling as cinnamon danced around her nose once more. “Yeah, they’re pretty good.”

The smirk on Killian’s face dissolved into a smile. “Always nice to hear.”

Emma was about to say something – granted, jokingly – about not letting the compliment go to his head when suddenly, a loud noise beat her to the punch.

Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

As the noise sounded off, Emma turned her head. Atop the cashier’s counter was a loud and colorful birdhouse with a clock in the top center of it. At the moment, a blue and yellow bird were rolling around a semicircle stretched out in front of the display of the time.

“The kids love it,” Killian commented, “and it’s a great reminder to check on our inventory regularly, especially in our peak season.” Nodding, Emma looked at the time, but before another second passed, her curious expression turned violently into a gawk.

Shit! It’s already one!

Killian had clearly noticed the change of face. “Are you okay, Emma?”

Emma sighed, remembering herself.

“Yeah. I’m okay,” she said. “It’s just that I didn’t think I’d be here this long. I’ve gotta get moving. Look, thanks for the donut. It was really good. Tell you what: I’ll grab a half a dozen of those for the road and take two bags of the Bloody Ploughmans.” Emma dug her hand into the pocket of her jeans, the leather of her wallet brushing against her fingers, but she soon stopped at the sight in front of her: Killian frowning. “What?”

“Come on, Emma,” he whined. “It’s your first time at an apple farm, and I’m not about to let you just buy the apples without picking them first.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Killian, but I can’t.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Killian chided, waving a finger. “There’s nothing like the feeling of pulling an apple right off a tree and taking a bite out of it. It forms an intimate bond between yourself and nature.” Emma raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Besides,” he continued, “I sold out of my pre-picked bags of them yesterday. Unless you can come back another day, you haven’t a choice.”

Emma pouted to herself. “No, I can’t. It took me hours to get up here and this is the only day I’ll be able to do it for like a month.”

“Look, Emma. If you want, I could go and pick the apples for you if you really don’t want to. I know the situation’s hardly ideal what with the weather so perhaps I can assist.”

Still pouting, Emma resigned herself to the idea. “It’s okay. There’s nothing else to do here. I may as well help you.”

So much for my quick trip.

Also, I should grab some gloves from my car. From the way Killian’s talking, it might get cold soon.

Killian smiled, practically stubbornly in the face of Emma’s pout. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fun,” he encouraged. “And I’ll come with you, take some pictures on your phone, and you can show Regina what a good time you had!” When faced with Killian’s grin, Emma felt her pout give out right before she grinned too. Killian seemed to be able to tell that he’d won the battle, his teeth flashing. “Will,” he called to a man sitting by the cash register in front of the store. “I’m going to accompany our lovely patron to the orchard for her first proper picking. You’re in charge until I get back.”

“Aye, aye!” the cashier said cheerfully. Content enough with the circumstances, Emma and Killian started for the exit out of the store. “Uh, before you go, Killian,” the man continued just before Killian could touch the doorknob, his tone now smaller. “Just reminding you that you said I could leave in two hours. I really need to get home soon.” Despite the meekness of Will’s words, Emma noticed that there was an underlying urgency to them too.

What’s beating him?

“Of course, Mr. Smee. We should be back with time to spare. Now come, Emma! The orchards await!”

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Jones Farms ended up being far more extensive than Emma thought. While the trees looked to be close to the house and storefront, the walk to the orchards had taken about five minutes, and Killian told Emma as they strolled through the trees that the Bloody Ploughmans were in the back of the fields, past the dozens of Macintoshes, Galas, and Granny Smiths alongside their path. The trek made Emma feel like the layers of trees were practically swallowing her whole. She looked to Killian who contrarily seemed so at home as he navigated through the dense forest. His eyes were shifting from branch to branch, muttering to himself about the state of the fruits on the trees and the fences on the border of the orchard that were just visible from the path. From what she could make out from his mutters and expressions, it all looked good.

Just before Emma was about to turn her head back to focus on the way ahead, Killian met her eye. Instantaneously, his expression popped from one of intense focus to one of an equally intense embarrassment.

“So sorry for the quiet, Emma!” Killian said. “Just wanted to check on everything. You can never be too careful with one’s livelihood when it’s forced to lay bare against mankind and the elements, and since I’m here and all, may as well look now.”

“I get it,” Emma replied, assuaging Killian of his clear guilt. “It’s your business, and work always means more when you’re your own boss.”

Killian quirked a brow. “You know from experience?”

“I’m a freelance bail bondsperson.”

“That’s pretty cool! What’s the work like? Is it like all the TV shows?” Emma almost wanted to laugh at the childlike enthusiasm on Killian’s face. It was wide-eyed, curious, and honestly just cute.

All of that made it hard for her to do what she needed to next.

Emma scrunched her face and shook her head. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but not really. I mean, sometimes, you’ll get a runner, and then you’ll have to play detective to find them, but it doesn’t happen often. Usually, I’m just filing paperwork, checking with the courthouses, and driving to defendant’s houses to check on them and make sure they haven’t skipped town. Thankfully, for most of the people I’ve worked with, they haven’t. It’s not the easiest lesson to learn when you’re a foster kid, but in my field of work, you realize that more people are good than not.”

Killian’s face fell, but only slightly. “Well, it’s at least an optimistic aspect of society nowadays, that those who you help are also working to help themselves.”

“Exactly,” Emma said, a feeling of profound satisfaction in her gut and a smile tugging at the edges of her lips. She hardly ever talked about work – mostly because it was as mundane as she described most of the time – but Killian just got what that mundanity meant.

I wonder what his story is…

…Couldn’t hurt to ask.

“By the way,” she continued, “how’d you get all the way from England to have an apple farm here in the states? They don’t have apple farms across the Atlantic?”

“They do, but –”

Wait, don’t tell me.

“Trying to avoid someone?”

Despite the interruptance, Killian seemed to take the question well, a brief low chuckle coming through his throat.

“That depends: Does an entire country count as someone?” Emma’s eyes bulged. Killian seemed to understand immediately where Emma’s mind had gone. “No, trust me. I’m not a criminal,” he explained. “Quite the opposite actually.”

“Oh?”

Killian pursed his lips. Though Emma could tell from there that the subject made Killian uncomfortable, right before she could stop him, Killian started speaking. “My brother and I were in the navy back home. He was killed in the line of duty and I lost my hand.”

Shit.

Emma grimaced, feeling guilty for ever bringing up the topic. She couldn’t imagine losing a limb, much less someone so close to her in a war. “I’m so sorry, Killian.”

“It is what it is.” Killian took a deep breath. Not wanting to miss the opportunity to spare Killian any further pain, Emma spoke again.

“We don’t have to talk about this if you want.”

“It’s alright,” Killian dismissed. “You told me a bit of your story. The least I can do is give you a glimmer of mine.”

Emma – touched – felt her hand drift to her chest.

“After being honorably discharged, I left the country,” Killian continued. “Life in England had never been easy for me, so I decided to make a new start in a new country.”

“All by yourself?”

“Yes. Our parents are long gone, one more loosely fitting that definition than the other, but gone all the same. I’ve Mr. Smee as an employee and a few townspeople as friends, but otherwise, no one really.”

Now that was a weird sensation. While it wasn’t something she was used to growing up, Emma’s small town these days carried with it a sense of intimacy. She had Regina who she was close to, but there were others as well and given the nature of small towns, she had at least some idea of everyone’s business. Sometimes, it was too much for her, especially due to her upbringing, but to be by yourself with all this land, Emma couldn’t imagine it.

“It doesn’t get lonely?”

“Oh, it does. To tell you the truth, I’ve hoped that one day, perhaps my soulmate will drop by the farm and from there, we’d settle down here together.”

Emma snorted, perhaps a tad more condescendingly than intended, but not enough that it looked like she hurt Killian in the process.

“You’re into that stuff?”

Killian raised a brow. “Who wouldn’t be?” She met his eye, and once more, he seemed able to read her thoughts. “You?” he asked, his surprise evident.

“Eh,” Emma shrugged.

“Hmm. I’ve always loved the idea,” he responded with a shrug of his own. “Being around someone and everything just feeling…right. Kind of like a safety net. The rest of the world gives us so much pain. It’d be nice to have one person who was always on your side, who you could always rely on, and could always rely on you.”

Boy, is that naive.

But Emma didn’t give voice to the thought. After all, when Killian finally found his soulmate, odds are that they’d have the same idea of what a soulmate is. And maybe it really would be as easy as that for them. For his sake, she hoped that was true.

As for her…

“I don’t know. I guess it just feels weird, like being in an arranged marriage by the universe.”

It was an understatement of her true thoughts, to be sure, but it was serviceable for their conversation.

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Killian said, musing. “I’d say it’s closer to…an apple farmer showing you where to find the trees you want are.”

Jeez, he’s a total romantic.

But hey, if anyone can make the whole soulmates thing work, it’s probably him.

I can’t imagine anyone would turn him down with a face like that, and that’s before they’d spend a minute with him.

“Speaking of,” Emma redirected, “so what about the apple farming?”

“My brother Liam and I used to work odd jobs as teenagers to make money. We found being farmhands for this one couple’s orchard to be the best of them. Besides, even though I wanted to leave my old life behind, it didn’t mean I wanted to leave my brother. You know what’s funny?” Emma hummed inquisitively. “You said earlier that Bloody Ploughmans were your favorite apple. Well, they were Liam’s favorite too. And speaking of,” Killian said, pointing ahead. “Look, we’ve arrived!”

Indeed they had. Emma’s gaze followed Killian’s finger. Beyond a small clearing was a messily labeled was a sign for Bloody Ploughmans and three rows of trees that extended back until a fence roughly three hundred feet away.

“Emma,” Killian said, walking past Emma until he could face her from the front. “I’m going to check on the fence at the back of this section.” He then produced a folded bag out of his coat pocket. “Why don’t you get a head start, and I’ll be right back?” She nodded and took the bag, and with a final toothy smile, Killian took off, leaving Emma alone.

For a moment, all Emma could do was take in the trees. There was such a beautiful familiarity in seeing the Bloody Ploughmans. After the tree in Regina’s yard had proved itself to be ill beyond repair, Regina had chopped it down, leaving only a small stump where the strong bark once stood. Emma had forgotten how they stood, shorter to the ground than she remembered, but  also fuller in its fruits and still as commanding in their presence as ever.

With the crunching leaves below her boots as her only companion, Emma stepped towards the closest apple tree.

Suspended in the air, just a half a foot above Emma’s head was a gorgeous looking apple. It was perfectly plump in its shape and was a shade of red that she recognized all-too-well.

Now that’s what I’m talking about!

Raising a hand up to the apple’s base, Emma pulled it towards her, twisting it slightly when she felt weakness in the top of the stem. When the apple was finally released, the branch that held it flung backwards – and as Emma found out before she could even hope to move to stop it – right into Killian’s unprepared face.

Oh crap.

Killian released a grunt that was deprived of any and all grace at the impact.

“Sorry,” Emma said meekly, an apologetic smile on her face. Killian enclosed his hand around the branch and steadied it. He didn’t look mad, but simply startled. As he sputtered, a leaf revealed itself to be in KIllian’s mouth, much to his clear disgust.

For the record, Emma did feel guilty. Truly, she did.

But she couldn’t help herself when she felt a bout of giggles in her chest as Killian coughed and pushed the leaf away.

So, after losing a battle of wills she never had a shot in hell of winning, Emma released a small chuckle, and much to her relief, Killian joined in.

“Might I suggest a less violent approach to picking apples?” he asked, chuckling not only from the absurdity of his previous situation, but also from the triumph that came with ridding himself of the stray leaf once and for all. “Not that your approach isn’t effective, but I’m quite fond of my face the way it is.”

So am I.

“Lead the way.”

“You got it, love,” Killian replied, a flirtatious wink at the word.

Emma felt her cheeks get pleasantly warm, making the cold air around her face feel all but nonexistent.

Killian took an apple less than a foot above him into his hand and with the other, took the branch.

“What you want to do is hold the apple - and you were right to give it a little twist at the stem - but what you want to do is keep the branch steady too. It’s not good for the tree for it to flail like that.” Emma watched closely, and as Killian spoke, she noticed his left hand - unlike the right - was gloved.

That’s probably the prosthetic.

Emma found herself impressed. The prosthetic moved almost as well as his hand did, perhaps a touch more rigidly, but it would be nothing anyone would be able to notice of they didn’t have the hawk-like eyesight of a bailbondswoman.

“So watch what I do.” Gently, Killian removed the apple while still keeping everything else relatively the same. Once the branch was safely put back in place, Killian showed Emma the apple. It didn’t gleam like an apple on a teacher’s desk, but it had this distinct and natural beauty to it within the thin layer of dirt at its surface. “And there you have it.” Killian gestured downward with his eyes and it took Emma a moment to realize that he was pointing at her bag. Immediately, Emma opened it, and both Killian as well as her own apple from earlier fell into it.

“Thanks.”

Killian gestured towards the very apple tree he had just picked from. “Now you try, if you think you can handle grabbing an apple without causing an earthquake, that is,” he challenged. The good-natured smirk on his face made it clear that he knew she’d be one to hardly pass up a challenge.

Good guess.

“Either way, I’m about to rock your world.” After taking a second to choose the perfect apple, Emma grabbed it, and was careful to use the strategy Killian taught her. When she was done, she hovered the fruit in front of Killian’s face, just as he had done with the one he picked.

“Indeed you have,” Killian remarked. “And a very nice choice on top of that, love! See? Told you it was a good idea to come pick the apples fresh.”

“Not like I had a choice,” she said, putting the apple into her bag.

“But admit it: it was still fun.”

“Fine,” Emma relented, an amiable eye roll trailing beside her words like a trusted friend. “It was fun.” As if to solidify the point, Emma grabbed another apple in much the same way as she did the last.

She hadn’t planned for today to go how it had. She never imagined that she’d actually had to go out into the fields and get her own fruits, but being around someone like Killian, someone so open and easy to talk to made her wonder why she’d have ever wanted to do this differently.

“Not to mention, Killian said, “you were also exposed to this beautifully crisp mountain air. Bet they don’t have this back in Storybrooke! Trust me, Swan, nothing makes you feel alive quite like when your lungs are full of it.” Dramatically with his arms open like he was performing the opening of The Sound of Music , Killian took a loud and deep breath. “Go on!” he encouraged.

And Emma did, albeit without the Julie Andrews pose. She took a sharp inhale and immediately, the fresh breeze began pouring throughout her entire being.

…Alongside something else.

Cinnamon?

Emma furrowed her brow. That didn’t make sense. They must’ve been a quarter of a mile away from the storefront of Jones Farms. And there’s no way with all the wind blowing that the smell from the donuts she ate over an hour ago was still strong enough.

So why was she still smelling cinnamon as if she was right in front of the machine itself?

Wait…Didn’t Killian say something earlier?

She remembered it so clearly.

“Gotta love that smell – the cinnamon and sugar coming together. Best in the world if you ask me!”

That’s what Killian said exactly. Word for word.

No…

But if Emma was right – and she got a good feeling she was – then so much now made sense: why she felt so comfortable telling him she was a foster kid, how he was able to convince her so easily to come up here and apple pick, and why Kilian couldn’t seem to take two steps without making her smile.

We’re soulmates.

Emma’s stomach clenched. She took another breath, this time more staggard.

This really wasn’t what she expected to happen today.

Soulmate.

Killian was her soulmate.

Killian, the kind farmer.

Killian, one of the most handsome men she had ever met.

Killian, someone she had already felt okay telling bits about herself to.

…

Killian, the hopeless romantic who was just ten minutes ago waxing about how great soulmates were.

Killian, the guy who thought that he’d find his soulmate and they’d be together forever like the ending of a storybook.

Killian, the guy who was now looking at her, seemingly able to tell that something was amiss.

And of course he could.

After all, they were soulmates.

“Everything okay, Emma?”

No. Things weren’t okay by a long shot. Killian was her soulmate and she was not ready to deal with that yet. There was so much to think about, so much to talk about, and a million ways that things could go wrong if it wasn’t handled carefully. Killian’s hopes were so high, too high, and telling him right now in the middle of a picturesque apple orchard, for as photogenic as she’s sure it would be, didn’t seem the best way to ease him out of that mindset.

At the same time though, that very mindset had begged the question: Had Killian figured it out, too?

Definitely not. If he had found out, he wouldn’t hide it. He’d say something. I can read him.

But if she could read him, it stood to reason that he could probably read her too, no matter whether or not he knew.

To be blunt, Emma didn’t want him to know, or at least, not yet. To tell him now, before she could figure out what to say would open a can of worms that she knew could hurt them both.

And currently, Killian’s question over her well being hung in the air, waiting to be answered.

Emma searched for a way out, knowing that a straight up dismissal of his concerns would only arouse Killian’s suspicion. Attempts at fake concerns fizzed in and out of her mind, killed by the consequences that could ensue in their wake.  

Thankfully, Emma looked at her apple bag and found her solution.

Perfect.

“I’m just hungry.” Immediately, she grabbed one of the apples she picked and shoved it into her mouth.

Damn, that’s good! But it tastes a little different. Did I just remember it wrong?

Emma scrunched her face in confusion.

Just then, Killian started chuckling.

Fuck. Why does he have to have such a cute laugh?

“Uhh,” Killian started. “You should probably know that there’s a layer of pesticides over that apple.” Emma gaped at the apple which now had a huge chunk removed from it, a chunk that was by now likely chilling in her stomach. “Nothing that’ll harm you!” Killian assured. “However, it does throw off the taste. I think that should solve that mystery for you.”

Emma chuckled, remaining conscientious as to keep the nervousness at bay despite how difficult the task ended up being. After finishing her apple over some small talk with Killian, she went back to picking apples off the tree. Killian took another bag from his coat pocket and at her behest, started assisting her.

Okay, good. We’ve just got to finish filling these bags and then I can get out of here.  

She’d come back. Emma promised herself and Killian that much, however silently. For right now though, she couldn’t handle a soulmate.

For God’s sake, this was supposed to be a quick apple picking trip, not a rom-com!

“I gotta say,” Killian spoke, taking Emma from her thoughts, “I admire you for your dedication to your friend, but it’s a weird time for you to come all the way out here.”

Emma quirked her brow. “Why’s that? Some sort of festival going on?”

Killian looked at Emma as if she was crazy. “No, love. Amelia.”

Oh, please don’t say love.

She could feel her heart protest that sentiment, the tenseness that existed since she found out the truth being somewhat mitigated by the cozy feeling of the single word.

“Who’s Amelia?” Killian bit his lip, which was quite worrisome given his more chipper disposition from just a few moments ago. “Killian?”

“Amelia’s not a person, Emma,” he responded, so soberly that she felt a phantom shudder as he stared at her. “She’s a hurricane, and a bloody strong one. I can’t believe you haven’t heard of her. You can hardly walk ten miles without hearing anyone talk about it.”

“Oh crap,” Emma said, taking a hand away from her apple bag to massage her forehead.

“If you want to leave,” Killian spoke, “you need to get out of here fast.”

It didn’t take Emma long to come to a decision. She’d head out now. It was too much to not only confront the fact that they were soulmates, but to be trapped in the same town…

No. Especially not after last month…

She’d get Killian’s number or come by again after the storm let up. That way, she could talk to someone about this back home first. Maybe Regina would know what to do. Or hell, maybe she made a mistake. It was fall. Maybe everything just smelled like cinnamon up here and if she came by a few months later, the smell would be gone.

…That probably wasn’t true, but Emma entertained the notion all the same.

Emma nodded. “Let’s get these apples packed up. I’ll pay you then head out.”

“Good thin-”

Two simultaneous beeping sounds interrupted Emma’s words and a feeling of vibration from her pants let her know exactly where it was coming from.

Killian got to his phone first. He looked for a few seconds at the device before turning back to Emma, his tenuous face giving her insight into what he was about to say.

“The hurricane’s already caught up with the next town over and the main roads that lead out of here have just been shut down as a precaution.”

Words dried up on Emma lips like an ice cube in a cup of tea.

Until Hurricane Amelia let up and those lonely roads could be filled once more, she was stuck here.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

After a brisk walk back to the buildings beside Jones Farms, Killian invited Emma to use his laptop in the farmhouse. Already, Hurricane Amelia’s strength started to show itself. The winds were picking up fast and it had started raining on the return trip. Still, Emma retained some degree of optimism. Until the roads were shut down from within the town, she could conceivably find a hotel to stay at and avoid Killian altogether.

Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on their side.

There were very few hotels in the area and those that were around either had no vacancies or were off of or directly on roads that were rapidly closing down more and more with every click on the mouse.

After an hour of searching and a final emergency alert that definitively shut down all roads in Hudson, Emma closed the laptop with a sigh.

“Nothing,” she concluded, her eyes dull with the haze that followed resignation.

“I’m sorry, Emma. I know you only planned for a day trip. But, if it helps, you’re welcome to stay here for the duration of the hurricane. I’ve a spare room upstairs that’s all yours.”

It couldn’t be understated how badly Emma didn’t want this to be her only option. Killian was a smart guy and while cinnamon seemed to be a common smell by the storefront, it would make itself apparent as an outlier soon enough. He’d figure out they were soulmates, probably before if she was being generous

However, the fact of the matter was that this was her only option. The winds had only gotten stronger and while she’d slept in her car more than her fair share of times, she’d never been stupid enough to do it during a hurricane and that wasn’t about to change.

As for Killian, she’d do what she could to handle things.

After all, if cinnamon was Killian’s favorite scent too, maybe there was some finagaling that could be done.

“Thank you,” Emma said. “That’s really sweet. Can I pay you or something?”

“Nonsense!” Killian dismissed. “Besides, you’re doing me a favor.”

“How’s that?”

“It gets lonely during these hurricanes. The power goes out more often than not, it’s dark and disgusting, I forget to buy books, and there’s little else to do around here than gorge myself on cider and donuts. It’ll be nice having a spot of company. We could have a drink, share a story by the fire, also gorge ourselves on cider and donuts, play a board game.” Killian smiled goofily at her. “I’ve got Monopoly,” he added with a shrug.

Emma, despite every bit of panic in her bones, couldn’t help but smile back at the joke. “I’m in, but only if I can play the race car.”

Killian shook his head. “I’m always the racecar, love.” At that moment, Killian lowered his eyes to the floor. Once Emma’s eyes followed suit, she saw the small dark and damp looking circle at her feet. “Tell you what. Why don’t we pause our battle over the pieces and get you out of those wet clothes? I’ve some clean sweats you can change into.”

“Aren’t you the gentleman?”

“I’m always a gentleman,” Killian countered, a finger pointed at nothing particular. “Now, how about I continue to show myself as a gentleman and escort you to your dwelling?” As he spoke, he mock extended his hand, as if asking a beautiful lady to dance.

If Emma hadn’t been trying to keep a secret, she’d have groaned.

Could he be any more romantic?

Hesitantly, Emma smiled and slid her fingers onto his palm, completing the joke.

Killian showed Emma the way to her bedroom. It was cozy and small with a queen sized bed, a dresser with a mirror against the front wall, and a window that gave a nice view of the orchard.

“The sweats are in the top right drawer of the dresser. If you need me, I’ll be in my room down the hall. I think I need some clean clothes myself.” With a tap against the door, Killian exited the room, leaving Emma all alone.

When his footsteps were finally out of earshot and a door clicked shut in the distance, Emma leaned against the nearest wall and sighed.

How am I going to handle this now?

After soulmates were introduced, it didn’t take long for them to realize it. For Regina, it had taken a few weeks, but she had the benefit of living far across town from Robin and by her own nature, was so focused on the Bloody Ploughmans that she went all that time missing the forest for the trees.

Killian, Emma was willing to bet, would not. Not only was he perceptive – and more emotionally speaking than most – but they were now in the same house and weren’t going anywhere until this hurricane passed. It wouldn’t take long before the smell of cinnamon became too abundant to ignore.

A sigh parted her lips.

So that left her wondering: should she tell him the truth now? On some level she wanted to. He was a great guy, if not a touch too idealistic in his views on love and harboring this secret was going to be a pain for however long she had to. That said, Emma also saw a future past the reveal, and things didn’t go smoothly there. Killian was so invested in the idea of soulmates. If Emma approached things the wrong way, it could make for a very awkward evening.

Besides, Emma reminded herself, she had a plan.

She’d go home.

She’d talk to her friends.

She’d maybe even see a therapist.

Then she’d come back and talk to Killian, when she knew the right thing to say.

But that meant until then, she’d need to fight the clock.

Emma looked out the window. Leaves flew through the air like bluebirds, and the comparison was only solidified by the unique whistle that the wind made. She was going to be stuck in the house for the night, maybe even two if things weren’t better the next day.

Of course I don’t have anything I can pretend is perfume or deodorant.

As Emma took in and mused over her situation, she took a deep breath. As the oxygen inflated her lungs like a vacuum bag, it revealed something quite curious: the smell of cinnamon was out of her nose shot.

And as loathe as she was to admit it, that revelation gave her a glimmer of hope.

Maybe Killian wouldn’t figure out they were soulmates if Emma played things smart. When they were both in their rooms, any clues that they were soul mates were nonexistent. Obviously, she couldn’t ignore Killian, but if she could keep in her room just long enough to keep any suspicions that he’d have at bay while not proving herself to be rude, she’d possibly be able to get away with their secret intact.

Just until she had that precious time to think.

A squishy feeling from below Emma’s boots drifted her away from her thoughts. Though not as big as the circle she made downstairs, this room’s beige carpet was starting to darken from the wayward drips of rain coming off of her jeans.

Speaking of thinking, I think I need to change clothes.

Emma looked at the top drawer that Killian pointed her to when she had first entered the room. Inside it was a pair of grey sweatpants as well as a matching sweatshirt. Both looked to be about a size bigger than she was, but Emma could tell that they’d fit fine enough.

So, to the sound of musical winds and thumping against the outer walls, she began to undress.

She got on the sweatpants and was about to put on the sweatshirt. Her hand had enclosed the garment when all of the sudden, less than six feet from her, there was a crash.

The entire explosion happened in an instant. Glass shattered and spread across the room like water over a beach at high tide. Right afterwards, the wind and rain began pouring in as aggressively as a hornet.

And somewhere in that mix, though she was uncertain of exactly when, Emma screamed.

“Emma!” Killian shouted as he ran inside. “Are you alright?” He looked at her with a primal fear in his eyes, only turning to look at the shattered window after a few seconds.

“Y-yeah. I’m okay. A branch must have crashed through the window.” Her words were proven true by the large piece of bark that currently leaned against her bed.

“Damn,” Killian muttered, right before turning to her again. “But at least you’re okay.”

Then something strange happened. Killian, who was noticeably only looking Emma in the eye, choked.

It was only at that point that she realized he, with a labored but steadily heaving chest, was shirtless.

In the moments where Killian had just entered the room, Emma had been too focused on the ruckus, as she should’ve been and the panic in his eyes as he examined both her and the scene.

But now the worst of the danger had passed, and his assets were fully on display.

And hers too.

Crap!

The sweatshirt - still not on her body, but pressed against her nonetheless - had done a fine job concealing Emma’s top half, but now was the time to properly wear it.

Killian seemed to realize this too. He held his left hand to his eyes and averted his gaze back towards the window.

“I’m sorry, Emma. I heard the crash and a shout-”

“It’s fine. I get it,” Emma interrupted, somewhat muffled by the sweatshirt that was going over her head. When it was finally on her person, Emma set about grabbing the stuff she’d brought into the room before stepping aside so Killian could inspect his window.

As Killian looked around, it became increasingly clear just how unsafe the area was. Glass was still falling off the window and rain was flying from the other side, and while the glass had mostly just missed him, the rain had been far more successful in that endeavor, hitting his face more and more with every passing second. After a full minute of this, Killian stepped back and turned to Emma.

“How bad?” Emma asked.

“Mother Nature’s quite upset with us. That branch did a clear number on this window and the room. I won’t be able to repair that, at least not until the storm’s gone. I can try to tape a shower curtain over it, but with the fierceness of this storm, I’m not confident it’ll hold. The most I can do otherwise is I bottle it shut with some towels.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“There’s a container down by the kitchen – big and blue, you can’t miss it – that could hold back the excess water from getting all over the floor and causing flooding. If you could get me that, that’d be great. I’m going to put my sweater back on and get to work.”

Emma headed downstairs and made her way into the kitchen. Sure enough, just as Killian said, there was a big blue container in the back.

Okay. Time to get this sucker upstairs.

Taking an edge of the container in each hand, Emma lifted it. She was all ready to go back upstairs and deliver the container to Killian when suddenly, something appeared out of the corner of her eye. Had she moved her head at any other angle, she would’ve missed it completely, but she hadn’t, and there it was, calling out to her like a sign.

A box of apple cinnamon tea and an old iron kettle right by its side.

Talk about fate.

The ensuing plan was formed in a matter of seconds and her hands were bringing the kettle to the sink after another pinch of them. Emma dropped the box and began to fill the kettle with water and stuck the last of the tea into the infuser inside of it, feeling a certain culpable delight as she got a whiff at the cinnamon, artificial for the first time since she’d discovered the truth. She set it on the stove and put the heat on.

The whole while that Emma conspired and enacted her plan, she felt her heart thumping heavily and quickly in her chest, beating as if she could be discovered at any minute.

Or like she wanted to be discovered.

Emma dismissed the notion as she continued to toil over her brew.

It’s for the best, just for now.

Once she was done, Emma grabbed the container again and brought it back upstairs to her room. As she entered, Killian was still at work, doing his best to hold the shower curtain down against the violent rain and winds. If Killian wasn’t already soaked from the downpour and his initial inspection of the window, he certainly was now. Emma quickly dropped the container in her arms and rushed to his side, holding the sides of the shower curtain he wasn’t using down.

“My hero!” Killian praised upon realizing what she was doing. The two smiled at each other and with the other sides of the shower curtain taken care of, Killian was able to make fast work of the project. After he was done, he put some extra towels on the floor and Emma put the container on top of them.

Breathless after the whole ordeal was done, Emma made a move to sit on the bed.

“Wait!” Killian cried before her tush could land. Carefully, he grabbed a piece of glass from just under her. “There’s more on there, too.”

Taking the hint, Emma leaned against the wall instead, just as she had when she first entered the room. At that moment, she noticed, much to her chagrin, that the smell of cinnamon had returned, and that the tea she prepared downstairs wasn’t anywhere close to boiling yet.

Fortunately, Killian seemed too occupied examining the destroyed room to contemplate the smell in any meaningful way. Emma looked on at the glass spread all over the floor and over the bed. The branch may have only given the window a single hit, but that single hit had evidently been more than enough to not only break the glass, but to shatter it entirely. All the while, the outside world was trying its best to wreck the window’s replacement. The wind puffed the shower curtain forward like a sail on the sea, and while it put up a good fight, there was no guarantee that it would be a solution that could unquestionably whether the storm.

All in all, Emma knew she couldn’t stay here.

Apparently, Killian picked up on that as well, for he moved to answer it for her.

“We’ll have to get you to another room,” he said.

Thankfully, Emma had a plan already brewing for that.

“Don’t worry,” she said, shrugging. “The couch looks comfy enough to spend a night or two on. I’ll ride out the storm there.”

And it seemed to be one that would work fine.

…For about as long as she was saying it.

But as soon as she was done, the pushback began.

Killian shook his head. “Not a chance. No guest of mine will stay on a couch, or at least not that couch. It my appear to be good for a nap, but trust me when I say its springs will surely kill you. No, you can have my bed, and I’ll weather that accursed thing.”

Emma groaned internally, knowing what she had to do. Damnit, the idea of them being in separate rooms was so perfect! It would’ve kept them apart and more importantly, keep the truth at bay, just until Emma figured out how to handle it.

But she couldn’t kick Killian out of his own room. Not after everything he had already done for her. Not with his low-hanging shoulders. Not with the way his hair that had fallen from the moisture of a long day’s work and a hurricane, doing more to show off his exhaustion than Emma was willing to bet his words ever would of Killian’s own volition.

And not after he had shown himself to be such a good guy.

“Why don’t we share it?” Emma suggested, fighting the hesitation that threatened to voice itself as best as she could.

Killian’s brows raised, and she could see him get smaller in the way he carried himself. “Are you sure?” he asked, the light glaze of nervousness obvious in his voice. “I-I mean, I promise to be a gentleman, of course.”

Despite her concerns, at the memory of a familiar phrase, Emma couldn’t resist the urge to make a little quip.

“I thought you were always a gentleman,” she countered.

“I-,” Killian started, but stopped his words in their tracks. After releasing a cough, he adjusted himself, looking like he was willfully banishing the worry from his system. He seemed to have accepted Emma’s offer with no reservations. “Thank you, Emma,” he said. Emma could feel his earnestness, just like she imagined he felt hers as she wordlessly told him that he was welcome.

The gratefulness there made for a meddlesome reminder that she was lying to his face.

Universe, you sure you didn’t mess this one up too?

He deserves someone who’ll be a real soulmate to him, someone who believes in the whole soulmate thing and that it really can last forever.

What he doesn’t deserve is a liar.

Suddenly, from outside the room, Emma could hear a loud whistle, pulling her from the inside of her head.

“Did you make tea?” Killian inquired, a cocked head.

“I figured it would be good to get ourselves warm after we were done with the window.”

Killian smiled. “Generous and kind. You’re one of a kind, Emma Swan, and I hope a friend.”

Emma felt her breath stagnate.

Once you figure out we’re soulmates, you’ll definitely want to be more than friends.

And that’s only going to make it worse when I tell you I can’t.

Because while you deserve a happily ever after, I don’t know if I can give you one.

I hope you know that when I finally tell you, it’s gonna hurt for me too.

He was close to her now, close enough to kiss if either of them wanted to.

It was annoying how appealing that was and how the notion so nearly overpowered her fears.

It was extra annoying given how the appeal of Killian Jones in general had so far won on more than one occasion, and she wasn’t about to let it win here.

“Monopoly!” The word burst out before Emma could process it. Fortunately, it didn’t take long for her to catch up. “Bet you won’t consider me a friend after we play Monopoly. So why don’t you get dressed and I’ll serve us up a cup of tea? Then I’ll show you how generous and kind I really am when I get those railroads from you.”

Killian smirked. “Game on, Swan. You best take the race car, cause you’re going to need it for luck. I’ll see you in five.” With that, he made off for his room, leaving Emma to descend the staircase with both hope and dread battling a what was essentially a Cold War in her chest as the scent of cinnamon vanished once more.

Oh believe me, I’ll need luck for a lot more than Monopoly.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Never let it be said that tea time couldn’t get intense.

Killian and Emma were quite the fierce competitors and Monopoly had run them well past the setting of the sun, running so late that they took a break to make dinner. All the while, their tea – and more importantly to Emma, the accompanying cinnamony aroma – continued to permeate the living room for the duration of the game.

“Shouldn’t have given you that race car,” Killian said, a good-natured tone present in his voice as he shook his head. “Told you it was lucky.”

Emma, proud of her victory, smirked. “Luck has nothing to do with it when you’re smart enough not to buy Baltic.”

“What did you want me to do? I had a Monopoly there!”

“Maybe use that to buy some houses on your yellows.”

She looked over at Killian, who was now slumping in his chair. A drawn out yawn roared from the innards of his mouth and much like a disease, it was quite contagious and suddenly, Emma was belting one out as well.

“Quite a day it’s been, between apple picking, hurricanes, a shattered window, and a positively gruesome game of Monopoly,” Killian said.

Emma, content as she rubbed her belly to alleviate the full stomach dinner and their dessert of apple cider donuts, snorted. “I’ve been to New York a few times, and the one thing I’ve learned throughout all of them is that you never know what you’re gonna get.”

“Does anything top this?”

“Not unless you count ramen burgers.”

“That’s a thing?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

“You know, when the song said, if you can make it in New York, you could make it anywhere, our city neighbors took that a touch too literally.”

The two of them laughed for several long minutes. During that time, Emma’s guard began to drop and her mind wandered to places she hadn’t allowed it to go. She imagined a reality were she felt comfortable telling Killian they were soulmates, one where tonight could be celebrated as the first adventure in a life that would be full of them. She imagined coming home to a house draped with the scent of cinnamon and beaming, just knowing that inside was someone who would stand by her forever, no matter the obstacle.

It was a reality she had only recently barred herself from, but one that was so comforting to return to.

One that was too comforting to return to.

Shit

Emma knew she could drop the truth bomb now. Killian clearly hadn’t figured out the truth yet.

But the thought of it made her too nervous. Opening the door to the truth meant opening the door to their future together.

The only problem was that there was a chance neither of them would like where that door led, and that possibility held Emma back.

If things fail, I don’t want to hurt him.

If things fail, I don’t want to hurt me .

Killian, still oblivious to all of this, looked towards the distance at what Emma soon discovered was a clock.

“It’s getting late,” he said. “Why don’t you head off to bed?”

Emma felt a hitch in her throat, rendering her nearly speechless.

“Yeah,” she croaked, wishing that there was still some of the apple cinnamon tea left.

“You sound parched. How about you go upstairs and get settled in and I’ll grab you a glass of water.”

“Are you sure? I could grab it if you want.”

“Nah, that’s fine. Besides, there’s something I wanted to check on in the kitchen.”

Emma was vaguely curious about what exactly it was that Killian wanted to check on, but the idea of having some time to herself was too alluring to possibly risk by asking questions. And so she went upstairs, making a quick trip to the bathroom before heading to the bedroom across the way. Killian’s room was cozy, furnished with a neatly made king-sized bed with a navy comforter and one nightstand at each side, beige cabinets and drawers spread around the room, and a television parallel to the door. Much like Emma’s room, there was a large window, though it thankfully wasn’t broken.

Closing the door behind her, Emma sat down on the bed and put her head in her hands, finally letting out a half-hearted groan.

Killian was right: It had been a long day, and an even longer on for her.

This whole ordeal was harder than she’d thought. When she first learned she and Killian were soulmates, Emma hadn’t come to terms with it – she still hadn’t – but at least she had a plan and didn’t feel as tight knit to him as to make her feel too guilty about implementing it to stop herself from doing so. But the later afternoon and evening had exposed more than her prowess at board games.

It had exposed something of a normalcy. Were they together, she knew when times were good, that a day like this – the introductions and storm aside – could conceivably be what she could expect. The layout felt right enough: a trip to the fields, discoveries of even more personal stories, a night playing a game or even just watching TV together, and bantering all the while.

And Emma liked that. Talking with Killian was the most natural thing in the world. Even as she swallowed her insecurities through the hours she spent together, she could hardly say she was having a bad time throughout it. Spending time with him was fun. Killian was charismatic, but not too over-the-top and made the unexpected into an adventure just through his presence and sense of humor.

Yes, when times were good, Emma could see an ideal future with Killian Jones forever by her side.

The only troubling thing was the reality she was all too aware of: Times weren’t always good, and of that inevitability, she had no vision of what could come to pass.

What was Killian like when he was sad or upset? What about when he was angry or was going through real misfortune? A couple of times throughout their games, Emma was tempted to test those emotions, but she didn’t want to cause him harm, especially when he had done nothing to warrant it.

It was the exact same reason why she had continued to hold her tongue about the very matter of them being soulmates, and why she would continue to do so for however long she’d have to.

Now how long will that be?

Emma checked her phone. She opened up the weather app and saw a rain symbol right under the word “Tomorrow.” Of course, it wasn’t indicative of whether or not the hurricane would continue, but the possibility still existed.

Another groan, this time closer to a whine came out.

Damnit. Not what I wanted to hear.

She took a pause and another deep breath. It would be hard – just as today was – but she’d figure it out.

And so Emma picked herself up and settled herself into the left most and less lived-in side of Killian’s bed, all the while continuing to lick her proverbial wounds and try to plan for what the next morning might bring. The plush mattress underneath her form cozily ensnared her and the still whistling winds began to sing her their own kind of lullaby to the beat of the tapping rain against the roof.

Emma felt her upper eyelid start to succumb to its own weight, threatening to close. Just as she was about to let them, Killian stepped into the room, a glass of water in hand.

“Thanks,” Emma murmured sleepily while he placed the glass at her nightstand. She looked at him and noticed an apprehensive expression across his features. “Everything okay?”

In an instant, Killian’s expression made a complete change, now appearing as if he were just caught.

“Yes,” he dismissed. “Everything’s alright.”

If Killian had hoped to fool Emma with what he said, he was wrong. However, the pull of sleep won out over any curiosity that she had for the matter, and she let it go.

We’ll talk tomorrow.

A duet of good night’s filled the air, and as light left the room, so did all but the sounds of natures and snores.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

CRAAAAAACK!

In the midst of ebony left shortly after a shockwave of brightness, Emma gasped, startled awake.

A fear of thunder had never been something she ever fully got over from her childhood uneasiness, but this outburst of the elements was a particularly loud one and took Emma out of her slumber with a single crack.

“You okay?” a quiet whisper from beside her spoke.

“Killian?” Emma mumbled. She coughed once and composed herself. “I’m sorry,” she said, her volume restored. “Did I wake you up?”

“No need to apologize,” he assuaged. “And no, I was up earlier from another bolt. I’ve never been great with thunder either.”

“You could tell?” Even though she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face, Emma could tell he was smirking as he heard her question.

“As I said earlier, you’re an easy read.”

Not to mention, your soulmate.

And suddenly, Emma too notice of the scent of cinnamon in the air. It wasn’t heavy, but what it was was hard to ignore.

She only hoped that Killian somehow had been able to do it.

Emma, biting her lip, checked her phone for the time. It was a little past two in the morning. That crack of thunder had fully woken her up and if Killian had been up for some time like he said he was, the same could definitely be said for him.

Great.

“May I turn on a light?” Killian asked from across the darkness.

“Yeah. Go for it.” A second later, the lamp from Killian’s nightstand lit up the room. It was bright enough to cause discomfort for a moment or two, but not enough to give that feeling of needing to start the day. Emma sat up in the bed, matching Killian who was already in the position. With her phone still in her hand, she tried looking at the weather app, but the service she had enjoyed all throughout yesterday was nowhere to be found.

“You can thank the hurricane for that little inconvenience. The service went out at least an hour or two ago. Small towns, you know. Cell phone towers are the first thing to go. I’m just glad we still have power, at least for now. Of course, if you need a phone, I’ve a landline downstairs. All yours.”

“No thanks. I just wanted to see an update on the storm.”

“I’m afraid that’s still up in the air.” As if to emphasize the point, a flash of lightning as well as an accompanying crack of thunder chose that moment to present themselves to the world. It wasn’t as powerful as its predecessor, but it nonetheless had the both of them letting out a small shudder. As they locked eyes, they gave each other a comforting smile.

“How bad was the one that woke you up?” Emma asked.

“Not too bad. Definitely not as loud as the one that got you, but to be fair, I’m quite perceptive when it comes to sounds to begin with.”

Apart from a courteous chuckle, Emma said nothing and for a moment, a silence bubbled in the space between them. She looked out the window at the skies. It wasn’t easy to see, but from what she could make out, the weather was just as violent, if not more so, than it was Hurricane Amelia first started up yesterday afternoon.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck here,” Killian said quietly.

Emma shrugged. “It’s fine,” she answered. Though careful to keep the lie off her tongue, Emma found that it was a task she found easy enough to do when she thought of her relative fortune given the circumstances. After all, a broken window aside, she was in a safe house in the middle of a harsh hurricane. “Besides, you’re a good host.”

“Thank you,” Killian said. Emma took a glance at him and saw that he was biting his lower lip.

He’s…nervous?

She was about to give voice to her concern when Killian beat her to the punch.

“Can I say something?” he asked.

“O-of course.”

“Remember last night, when you asked me when everything was alright, and I said it was?” Emma nodded, the memory as fresh as the apples on the trees outside. “Well, I lied,” he confessed.

“Yeah, I figured. Just like I told you earlier, you’re not the hardest read either.” Killian gave a chuckle that was very much like the courtesy chuckle Emma gave him earlier, but otherwise remained quiet. At a closer look, Emma saw him once again biting his lip. “So, what’s up?”

“It’s just that I-” Killian stopped and took a deep breath before starting again. “Emma, I’ve noticed something.”

Oh crap.

As Emma listened to Killian and processed his words, she began to notice the speed at which her heart was beating. “O-oh?” she uttered. “What’s that?”

Killian, clearly too caught up in his own nerves, didn’t seem to pick up on the fact that hers were shooting through the roof. “Last night, while we were playing, I realized I was smelling cinnamon all around the house.”

“You mean from the tea?” Emma quickly suggested in a vain hope to deter Killian’s line of thought.

However, it didn’t work.

“That’s what I thought at first,” Killian explained. “But I’ve been drinking that tea for years now, and it’s never been that powerful. Even when we finished, the smell was still there. So when you went up to the bedroom, I grabbed the mugs, but when I took a whiff out of mine, I could barely pick up the scent. The smell went from being everywhere to practically gone. Then I went back to my seat in the den and tried smelling for it. I even went outside to see if it was the machine. But nothing.” He stopped and took another deep breath and turned to Emma, the corner of his lips tugged up ever so slightly. “And then I thought of something you said back at the store.”

Oh crap.

“W-hat was that?” she asked as if she didn’t already know.

“How much you loved cinnamon,” he said simply. “ So I came up with a little theory and tested it. I grabbed that glass of water for you and came upstairs and when I reached my room…the smell came back. It was just as potent as it was when you left.”

Oh crap.

Emma struggled to speak or even make a single noise.

“Emma,” Killian said, his volume just above a whisper. “I think we’re soulmates.”

As Killian’s – and unbeknownst to him, Emma’s – truth proclaimed itself once and for all, only one thin went through Emma’s head.

Oh crap!

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

For the first few seconds after Killian announced his and Emma’s shared fate as soulmates, Emma felt her entire self go as blank as a sheet of paper. She found her ability to speak as nonexistent as a unicorn riding atop a dragon. Her thoughts blurred like the eyesight of a drunkard. Her hearing was muffled like a groan into a pillow.

Killian found out they were soulmates.

For as much as Emma had tried to prevent him from finding out the truth, she hadn’t thought of how she’d handle it when he eventually did.

But that time had finally arrived and now the best Emma knew that she could hope to do was try and hide the fact that she knew for as long as she did.

So when those mercilessly slow seconds at last passed, she realized she’d need to react somehow to the news.

Here goes nothing.

A smile and a “yeah” that was as excited as Emma could hope for was the response she settled on.

Right beside her, Killian was beaming, as ecstatic as Emma imagined he would be.

And as ecstatic as she feared he would be.

“I can’t believe–I’d always hoped–And with you–” Killian was practically tripping over the words that came out of his mouth at a mile a minute. “This is amazing!” he cried, the volume in his voice now bereft of its respect for the quiet of the early morning and was as loud as it would’ve been in the middle of the day.

In the midst of Killian’s tornado of thrills, Emma did her best to get swept up in it too.

With the bounciness of a box of puppies, he certainly made it enticing to try.

As he talked, Emma made the effort. She pushed for a hearty laugh and she made her smile large enough to match his.

While not entirely for naught – doing as much as could be conceivably done for the ten seconds of work she could afford to give in the time she had – it did little to banish the butterflies in her chest.

Suddenly, through her cotton sweats, Emma felt a patch of heat gently pressed against her. She looked to her side and saw that Killian had placed his hand upon her forearm.

“I’m so happy,” he said, practically cooing. Emma’s smile grew smaller, but at the same time, so much more sincere. “Are you?”

It was a tough question to answer.

Killian’s short term excitement should’ve made her happy. His smile should’ve made her happy.

And they almost did.

Key word: almost.

And there lied the problem.

Killian was a perceptive man. It was something he had proven himself to be throughout the past day and Emma knew better than to doubt it now. If she lied, he’d know it.

It was one thing to project a negative emotion onto something other than its intention. Emma was able to do it earlier on the orchard by feigning hunger. It was another thing to straight up lie about an emotion’s existence.

No matter how badly she wanted to feel it.

But it didn’t stop her from trying.

“Of course,” she answered, fighting with all her might to will her words into fact.

Sadly though, despite her wish, it didn’t take.

Killian’s face crinkled as he listened. His features darkened, his smile dissolved and his brows furrowed. “No you’re not,” he said, so much conviction in his voice that Emma believed that he was as sure of the truth as the sun is sure of rising each day.

And the exposure of that one lie seemed to start a domino effect of doubt.

“Emma, you have been smelling something, right?”

At least I can tell the truth about this.

“I have,” she responded, her tone now matching his.

“When did you first notice it?” he asked immediately afterwards. There was an imperativeness to his words, but his eyes were pleading with her. They looked to be trying to find an excuse to reject the truth that was undeniably becoming so clear.

Emma worked to give him that truth, but Killian had clearly run out of patience.

“You…you said earlier that you didn’t care for soulmates,” he pointed out. Emma saw him putting puzzle pieces together and finally, reaching the conclusion Emma was most afraid of. “Emma, Did you know…the whole time?”

No, it wasn’t the whole time, but it was damn well over half of one and well past when Killian discovered it. To point out the difference would be meaningless.

So Emma said the only thing she could.

“I…” Emma sighed. “I did.”

The effect was instantaneous. Killian’s lips seemed to be forming the word “why,” but couldn’t get enough support from his diaphragm to give it any voice. He slid back down so he was once again lying in the bed. His eyes took on such a sad expression. Emma wasn’t sure whether or not there was the start of welling tears, but there grew a certain puffiness to his eyes.

In short, he looked like she’d just ripped his heart out of his chest, and hell, in that moment, she felt like that’s exactly what she did.

Killian turned so that his back was to Emma. If Emma felt at a loss for what to say or do before, it was nothing compared to how she was feeling now. A verbal apology would do nothing, a touch would feel too intimate and raw, and now she couldn’t even apologize with her eyes.

Before Emma could think anymore on it, Killian got up from the bed.

She knew she couldn’t leave what had happened at that, but what exactly she wanted to say still left her struggling to convey properly. In the end, something that was a mix of a squeak and a protest came out of Emma’s mouth, though it was as meager as the size of an ant’s leg.

“I,” Killian started, cutting her off while not even looking at her with a hurt-strained voice. “I just need a minute.”

Out of his line of vision, Emma nodded, her mouth agape from the seemingly guiltlessness of how he went about his decision. Since yesterday afternoon when they had met, he had constantly given her a choice as to how he’d behave, whether formal or friendly. For the first time though, as he’d walked out of the bedroom door, he had taken the decision for himself alone.

As the door closed, vacating Killian’s form from her line of sight, so did the smell of cinnamon vacate Emma’s nose.

And once it was gone – after staying with Emma in the midst of a hurricane – Emma realized just how much she missed its presence.

Emma, who remained sitting up in the bed, listened as the sound of creaking floors grew softer and softer. For the next hour, she continued doing just that, frozen with both regret for her lie and hope that at any second, she’d hear him come back.

It was a childish presumption and after the shock and initial run of panic had worn off, it didn’t take long for her to realize that.

So what am I supposed to do now?

Throughout their time together, Killian had only expressed a true desire for only one thing: His soulmate.

And for almost just as long, Emma knew exactly where he would find them and chose to withhold it.

Were they worth the guilt that was now cutting into her chest? Worse, were her fears worth the betrayal in Killian’s eyes or the destruction of the newly formed yet completely solid companionship they had built thus far? Were they worth the tells of doubt and worries of worthlessness that spread across his features like sand over a beach?

No, of course not. And now that the fallout had ensued, she’d regretted making it so.

And it was now her job to fix it.

But how would she do it?

Was it better to give him his space, or should she talk to him before the situation became unfixable or at the very least too awkward to mend in a meaningful way?

As Emma pondered this, she realized that she ended up answering her own question and quietly, she got up from the bed and left the room.

The walk down the staircase had Emma’s heart feel like it was thumping like a rabbit’s foot with nervousness and anticipation. It felt like a puzzle to not let the errant boards squeak, as if she would further hurt Killian by making any premature noise, and when it was at last over, she felt relief.

She found Killian sitting on the couch, a box of apple cider donuts in front of him. He didn’t seem to register her presence, apparently too caught up in her own thoughts to do anything other than look down towards his hand and prosthetic.

As the scent of cinnamon returned once more, something that Killian either hadn’t noticed or hadn’t care any longer, a fresh pang of guilt attacked her: guilt over causing this and guilt that her nerves still had power over her even as she attempted to do damage control.

Should I be doing this?

Yes, she pushed herself. She should. A lie got her into this mess, and the truth would be what would hopefully set things right.

“Hey,” Emma spoke softly. Killian blinked and turned to her. His mouth opened as if to speak, but ended up staying silent.

So Emma chose to fill the air instead.

“Can we talk?”

With his teeth pursed against his lips, Killian nodded and Emma sat down at his side.

“Are you mad?”

Killian let out a sigh, as if he was finally releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I…I don’t know. Confused, definitely. Hurt too. But- no,” he seemed to decide. “I’m not mad.”

For a moment, Emma desperately wanted to smile. Despite his suffering and what could’ve been justifiable anger, Killian had chosen to instead be kind to her and honest with himself.

Universe, this guy is way too good for me.

But she couldn’t, for with every word Killian spoke, Emma felt her guilt pound at her like the wood beneath a judge’s gavel, and despite knowing that Killian hadn’t intended it, the pain was insufferable.

She was willing to bet that his pain could match it. After all, what does one think when their soulmate lies to them about it? Rejected? Unwanted? Like a trapeze artist who just lost their safety net in the midst of the circus?

Emma knew those feelings all too well.

Never had she imagined she’d pass them along to someone else.

What do I do now?

“I’m sorry I lied, Killian,” Emma said. “The whole soulmate thing, it’s…” – how would she finish that? – “Complicated.”

Killian, despite Emma’s every expectation, gave her a soft smile. It was as thin as a piece of angel hair spaghetti, but it said all that it needed to about whether or not he’d forgive Emma.

“It could definitely be worse,” he commented, shrugging with a lightness in both his form and tone.

“Really?”

“Remember that big TV special about the soulmates who hated each others favorite smells and had to video chat just so they could stay together? I’d say this is a touch easier.”

He’s got a point there.

“You’ve got a point there,” she said, reflecting her thoughts perfectly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. A jackrabbit on methamphetamine could’ve moved slower than Emma’s thoughts. Killian had taken her lie and apology far better than Emma could’ve hoped for or even deserved.

But what would they do now?

Well, one thing was for certain: Emma needed to start explaining herself.

“I was going to tell you,” Emma explained. “Not during this trip, but I was planning on coming back to tell you.”

Killian nodded, apparently taking the information in.

“May I ask you something, Emma?”

Emma knew what was coming, but nodded just the same.

“Why don’t you want to be soulmates?” The utterance was just as predictable and heart breaking as she expected it to be, and knowing that it was coming didn’t help it feel any better. “Is it just the concept of soulmates in general, or is it me?”

“No,” Emma practically shouted. “It’s not you.”

Well, not fully, but I’ll get to that.

Killian snorted, probably at the sheer loudness of her outburst. “Good to know. But why then?”

Emma took a deep breath. She hadn’t told anyone about a good deal of this. Hell, some parts even Regina wasn’t privy to.

And now she was about to tell Killian every bit of it, warts and all.

Well, he deserves the truth.

“I grew up in the foster system.” Another deep breath came to pass before Emma realized it. “But you already knew that. What you don’t know is that my parents left me on the side of the road.” Killian gave a nod, something Emma surmised was the best he probably felt he could do without coming off as pitying.

She’d be lying if she said it went unappreciated.

“When I was fourteen, a woman named Ingrid and her husband fostered me for a bit, and she and I grew close. We went on walks to the park, amusement parks, the pier. There was hardly a weekend we weren’t together. I really thought she’d adopt me. But then, one day, a social worker came and just like that, I was off again, with hardly a goodbye from her.”

Killian made eye contact with Emma, signaling to his hand as if asking permission to use it to comfort her. Emma gave him permission with another light nod, and Killian delicately placed his hand on her shoulder.

“Emma,” he said. “You don’t have to do this. It’s okay if you want to stop.”

“It’s alright,” she said. “I want to. This is just…”

“A lot,” Killian finished.

“Yeah.” Emma took another deep breath. “Besides, you told me a bit of your story. The least I can do is give you a glimmer of mine.” Emma found herself able to smile at that homage to KIllian’s words. And just like Emma, Killian’s hand drifted to his heart.

Maybe we really are soulmates.

“I dealt with it and moved on – don’t get me wrong. After I made it through the foster system, I moved to a nice town, made friends, and got a good job. And then a month ago, I got a message from her on Facebook. She had looked me up and invited me to come to her house. So I went, hoping to get some answers.”

“And did you?”

Emma bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah,” she said, the volume of her voice only a touch above a whisper. Killian gave her shoulder a small squeeze, and she melted into the touch.

“So what happened?” he prompted.

“I got right to the point and asked her why she gave me up.”

Killian gave a light smirk. “You’re the blunt type,” he excused when Emma gave him a raised brow.

Fair enough.

In keeping with that very same blunt nature, Emma continued. “She had a lot to say on the subject. Turns out she wanted me, but her husband didn’t. He had commitment issues, according to Ingrid. Foster care was their compromise, but the idea of actually adopting a kid? That was a different story. Ingrid loved me, but her soulmate Spencer didn’t and there was no way she’d be able to adopt me alone on an ice cream lady’s salary. And so I went back into the system.”

“I imagine that didn’t bode well for Ingrid and Spencer.”

“You’d be right,” she said. “After I left, apparently things went south with Spencer.”

“And they were soulmates,” Killian repeated. Emma nodded.

“Ingrid said she used to smell fresh mowed grass every day before she and Spencer split up, but unless the gardeners show up, she hasn’t had a whiff of it since, and when she does, she can barely stand it.” Killian moved his arm from Emma’s shoulder onto her arm and the warmth of a tender squeeze graced her skin again.

“Swan –”

Emma lifted a hand to stop Killian’s words early, silently begging him to let her keep going. Killian closed his mouth, and she continued on.

“Before I left her house last month, Ingrid warned me about soulmates and love and all of it. She told me soulmates were like two scoops of unlabeled ice cream. You could get two that complement each other perfectly, like vanilla or chocolate, or you could get two that go together like cilantro lime and carrot top.”

“Are those actually ice cream flavors?” Killian had a face that was just as silly as his question was.

Emma, at a loss for words, albeit for an entirely different reason, gave Killian a look that screamed of exasperation with another raised eyebrow for emphasis.

Killian’s expression lost its hold, though its kindness remained as it was. “Just trying to lighten the mood.”

“You’d be surprised what ice cream can taste like,” Emma said, indulging him. Then, remembering her point, she sighed. “But you get it right? I mean, we’re soulmates, sure, and you’re great, but I- with what happened- how can we know if we belong together? Soulmates usually work out, but sometimes they don’t and I don’t want to end up like Ingrid. And I know that it’s just one time, but it just got me thinking: What’s going to happen when things get tough? Right now even, we live six hours away from each other and I don’t even know if either of our careers would allow us to move. Just…with the odds against us like they are, it’s..” When she was finally done speaking, she took a deep breath, finally allowing an admittedly very patient Killian to take the floor.

“It’s just got you nervous,” Killian finished.

Emma gave him a light smile. “You know me well.”

“Better now that we’re really talking.”

“And what do you think of me now?”

“That you’re an intelligent woman, although you could stand to trust a bit more.” Emma massaged the bridge of her nose with her fingers and after a moment, her entire hand encapsulated her face as she openly groaned into it.

He’s not wrong.

“You also understand love in a different way than I do, and that’s not a bad thing,” Killian continued. “Thank you for telling me your story. And I get why you’re so skittish at the idea of us being soulmates.” Emma removed her hand from her face.

“I know you want one,” Emma said. “You wanted someone who’d always be with you and live up here on the farm and survive everything with you. I’m just not sure if I can be that. That’s why I kept quiet. I just wanted some time to figure out what to say after I told you the truth.”

“And it was just a hope, but hopes can change.”

“But how much of your hopes are you willing to bargain with? I don’t even know what the answer would be with me.”

It was true. Emma liked her affordable and established home in Storybrooke. She liked being close to Regina, the closest thing to family she had. And while her job certainly had its hit-or-miss days – though she reminded herself that no job didn’t have that – she liked it more than she didn’t and it was the first career she felt she’d ever been truly good at.

Even if things worked out with Killian, could she see herself giving all of that up? And if not, would there be room for compromise or would they just fall apart?

So much of her didn’t want to find that out.

And suddenly, she felt that same racking of nerves that she allowed to control her all throughout yesterday.

“Emma,” Killian called. She looked up at him.

Guess I got caught up in my own head.

“You’re getting caught up in that head of yours,” he mock chided. Emma took a deep breath.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re too good at that?”

“I have a feeling you’re about to,” he countered, smirking. “Emma, I honestly understand what you’re talking about.”

“You do?”

“More than you would think,” Killian commented. He bit his lip and Emma by now was more than well aware of his own tell of nervousness. “Remember when I told you about my parents?”

Emma nodded slowly. “Yeah. You said they were gone, but one more than the other?”

“Indeed I did,” he concurred. “My mother died when my brother and I were young. She said she and my father were soulmates and that she’d smell a freshly printed pound every day when he came home from work, just as he’d recount the smell of the sea whenever he was by her side to us.”

“It didn’t last?”

“No. Shortly after her death, he left us. Apparently, he loved the smell of pounds so much, that he made off with a briefcase of them one day, but forgot us on the way out. While I didn’t get to spend much time with my mother, I know she’d never have wanted that.”

“You’re right,” Emma agreed. “I can’t see anyone related to you who’d do that.”

“Then I’m happy to know I take more after her then. Anyway, Liam and I did a lot of traveling when we were on our own, and do you know what I discovered along the way?”

“Bloody Ploughmans?” Emma quipped.

“Smart ass,” Killian shot back, smiling all the while. “No, Emma. Soulmates. All kinds. Ones that worked out, and ones that didn’t. Ones that were divorced, widowed, went off into the sunset, and everything in between. And I realized what made the good ones good and the bad ones bad: Effort. Emma, even soulmates are still human, and no matter what, humans will do as humans do. What will make us work or not work will be the effort we give to each other. And I like you, Emma. I like you a lot. I promise that if we try, I’ll work with you night and day to build a future and a life together.”

Suddenly, Emma felt a weight on her hand, very much like the one she felt hours ago when Killian first discovered their shared destiny.

“So can we at least try?” he finished.

Emma took in what he said. She took in everything – about him, about her, about her past, about his past, about the smell of cinnamon that permeated every bit of air that they breathed, and about their hearts. And in between it all, a fight ensued from within her. Pulses nervous and infatuous lunged for each other like two wrestlers in a championship.

Finally, when she was at last done taking things in, and one set of emotions finally overcame the other, she took one last cinnamon-filled deep breath and gave her answer.

“Okay. Let’s try.”

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Emma ended up staying at Jones Farms for another three days. Together with Killian, they endured the remaining gusts and shocks of Hurricane Amelia and after it passed, began rebuilding the thankfully not-too-tattered parts of the farm side-by-side.

With every second that passed – through a greatly-needed nap following their heart-to-heart, a power outage, lots of conversations, and even another game of Monopoly – Emma felt herself feeling more comfortable with the idea of a soulmate, and thus, more in love with Killian as he showed her just the kind of soulmate he would be.

Killian had truly proven himself to be a man of his word, taking the initiative and bringing up uncomfortable subjects that Emma introduced that night such as how often they’d see each other and where they would live if things worked out.

When things worked out. That had been Emma’s push for herself. Because before the evening of their third day together, Emma had truly believed in a when for them.

And all throughout their days and nights, the rich aroma of cinnamon embraced her senses, only now, instead of queasiness that came from fears of the future, it brought on the same warmth one would get from a hearth, a symbol of the love she’d choose to let reside there in its place.

They would’ve continued, but dinner time had interrupted their bubble of isolation with something borderline unwelcome: A new client for Emma. Though she tried to give herself reasons to decline, the reality was that she couldn’t live on love alone.

Regardless of her decision, the idea was tempting.

But even Killian had supported the idea of returning to Storybrooke, and that all but solidified her answer.

“It’ll just go to prove what I already suspect,” he said. “We can overcome everything, especially a little separation.”

And so it was agreed, albeit reluctantly. Connections were made on every platform from their phones to their Facebook accounts and after a final connection in the bedroom, they were ready to leave each other.

Or as ready as they were ever going to be.

They stood in the front of Jones Farms – and Emma swore it was the spot where they’d first shook hands – as they said goodbye.

“I need to get back,” Emma moaned, more at herself than anyone else, especially Killian.

“I know,” Killian said, smiling sadly.

Emma found that it was so hard to pull away. There was a comfort with Killian, just like a spot of shade under an apple tree, and she didn’t want to lose it.

No. I won’t lose it.

“But I’ll be back soon,” she reminded both Killian and herself.

“And I’ll be waiting on bated breath until you do.”

Killian cupped Emma’s face and Emma leaned into the touch. Hardly another second passed before she closed the already small distance between their lips once more.

Like velcro being opened, Emma found it damn near impossible to separate from Killian, but it was done all the same, though their eyes stayed locked until Emma finally drove off and she was willing to bet that Killian’s remained on her for as long as her bug remained in view.

The war between Snow White and the Evil Queen has been going on for nigh three decades now. Camelot has been aligned with Misthaven and they are against the Queen as well, despite all her efforts to lure them over to her side. Liam, Killian’s brother and the king of Camelot, remained firm in his decision to ally themselves with Misthaven.

Five years ago, the Queen staged an uncalled for, unprovoked attack on Killian and his fiancée, Milah. Killian had lost his hand and Milah, her life. Fueled with rage on the behalf of his brother and his dead fiancée, Liam promptly declared war against the Queen.

This led them to the situation they are in right now.

Liam is bedridden, poisoned by the Queen, and only has a few weeks to live.

None of the best healers and sorcerers in the land could do anything to help Liam. When all of their attempts failed, Killian and Belle began their own research, working desperately to find a way to save him.

While searching through the many texts on magical ailments and cures in the library, Killian has come across a legend about of the most powerful being to ever live:

The Dark One, a mighty magician who has the power to alter the laws of magic itself.

Or so the legend told.

Belle is vehemently against this plan.

“Seeking out dark magic is never a good idea, Killian,” she insists, nervously wringing her hands. “And the Dark Ones are known for their penchant for making deals. Trust me, that is one price you do not want to pay.”

“We’ve run out of options, lass,” Killian says forcefully. “Liam only has a few weeks to live and I don’t plan on sitting around and waiting for him to die.”

“And you think I am?” Belle asks shrilly, and the pure hurt in her voice makes Killian flinch. He knows that Belle and Liam have had feelings for each other for quite a while now, although both are too stubborn to admit it. When Liam was poisoned, Belle was beside herself with grief, spending the few hours she wasn’t slaving in the library with Liam, trying to raise his spirits and hiding her worry from him. “I want to save Liam as much as you do! But if we resort to seeking out the Dark One, we’re liable to be killed and we’re not much good to Liam dead, are we?”

Killian nods slowly. “You’re right,” he says, and Belle almost sighs in relief but his next words throw her for a loop, “That’s why I’m going alone.”

“Killian, you could die!”

“If I’m trying to save my brother, then so be it I’m happy to,” Killian says resolutely. “And if I fail, I have faith that you will find a way to save him instead.”

Belle is quiet for a long minute and Killian wonders if he’ll have to try harder to convince her. But then she speaks, her tone resigned,

“You’ll need supplies for your journey.”

“I’ll pack them up myself,” Killian assures her, inwardly sighing in relief that he doesn’t have to resort to drastic measures. “In the meanwhile, could you please scrounge up any information you can get about the Dark One?”

Belle nods. “That I can do. When will you leave?”

“At night. No one must know about this save for you and me. I suspect that there are spies of the Queen among our court members. We cannot risk any of this getting back to her.”

“Agreed,” Belle says grimly before another thought occurs to her. “What shall I tell Liam?”

Killian shrugs. ‘I’m sure you’ll think of something. The castle of the Dark One, according to the maps I referred to, lies between the borders of Misthaven and Camelot. With luck, I should be back within four days.”

“You’re really doing this,” Belle says, exhaling loudly.

“Aye, that I am.”

“Just…just be careful.”

“Always am,” Killian says, but Belle simply narrows her eyes at him. Relenting with a sigh, he nods.

“I promise. Take care of Liam for me.”

Belle only nods. Killian accepts it, knowing that he’s leaving his brother in good hands.

It’s a two day journey to the Dark One’s castle.

Killian travels through most of the night, stopping to rest for only a few hours before he starts again. By the time he reaches the castle, he is immensely exhausted from the journey; yet triumphant that he has finally made it.

Now the next step is actually confronting the Dark One.

Belle had told him that the previous Dark One, Rumplestiltskin, had been killed ten years earlier. Not much is known about the current Dark One.

They only know that the she is a woman, who has kept to herself for the past decade, rarely coming out of the castle. Killian finds this strange, wondering why a being of such great power would choose to lurk in the shadows, instead of using her power to command nations and make the people of the world bow to her.

According to the texts he’s read, whoever kills the Dark One is doomed to take on the darkness next. Killian wonders if killing the Dark One was an accident, if this woman did not want the power at all and so is hiding away from the rest of the world. He can certainly sympathize if that’s the case. Of course, it then begs the question as to whether she will even help him now.

She has to. Killian does not want to think about what would happen if he lost his brother. He knows tragedy quite intimately, having lost his father to illness seven years prior; as well as his love and hand to the Queen’s Black Knights two years later. He cannot lose his brother. Even if it means resorting to dark magic, he will save him.

Killian enters the castle cautiously, his hand on the hilt of his sword and his prosthetic tucked behind his back, out of habit. It’s a huge, formidable fortress; the doors opening into a large, elaborate room which is covered with layers of dust, books and all manner of trinkets strewn about a large table in the center. In a dark corner, there lie the remains of what might have once been a spinning wheel, but the object is now destroyed beyond recognition.

A flash of gold catches his eye. Killian approaches the table and picks up a dream catcher that perches on the pile of books. A shudder wracks through him and he quickly drops it. He might not have too much experience with dark magic, but he can tell that the dream catcher is absolutely soaked in it.

Belle was right, this is a terrible idea.

But it’s too late to turn back now.

The doors at the back of the room swing open with a bang and Killian spins around, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword. A woman strides into the room and pauses when she spots him, her eyes narrowing. Killian knows without a doubt, at this moment, that she is the Dark One.

She doesn’t look evil. Her face is hard and her posture stiff but she doesn’t seem menacing, only defensive. Her silvery hair is gathered in a severe bun at the nape of her neck, and she wears a long, sweeping dress of midnight black, a cutlass at her side. Killian takes a hesitant step forward, letting his hand fall from his sword.

“What do you want?” the Dark One asks. She sounds almost bored. Her voice is soft, yet seems to echo in the silence of the castle. Killian stares at her blankly for a moment before he recollects himself.

“My name is Killian. I am the prince of Camelot,” he says, a little surprised at how steady his voice sounds. “I…heard that you are a being of great magical power. I have come to seek your help.”

The Dark One simply watches him, her brow creased. After a long moment, she sighs and turns away.

“Seek help elsewhere. I’m not interested.”

Panic blooms in Killian’s chest.

“No, wait! Please,” She glances back at him, raising a brow at his frantic plea. “It’s my brother, the King. He’s been poisoned. By the Evil Queen,” For some reason, the green of her eyes blackens with anger at the mention of the Queen and her hands curl into fists. “He only has a few weeks to live, and he needs help. None of the sorcerers or healers in my kingdom have been able to help. Please, I’m begging you, help him,” Killian’s voice cracks. “He’s all I have.”

Silence reigns as the Dark One thinks his request over. When she finally speaks, her voice is curiously sympathetic.

“You’re the prince of Camelot, you said?”

Killian nods. “Indeed.”

“Tell me, does a wizard named Merlin reside there?”

He frowns, perturbed by at the strange question. “No, he died many years ago.”

The Dark One lets out a harsh sigh, and then glances to the side, a dark scowl crossing her face. Killian follows her gaze but can see nothing.

“Some of his spell books remain,” he offers. “If that could be of any use to you…”

It’s true that the spell books remain, but they are also treasures of Camelot, treasures that only Liam himself has access to. Killian knows his brother will be furious with him, but it will be worth it.

She looks back at him. “Then let us make…a deal,” She speaks the words almost reluctantly, glancing to her side again. “I’ll come with you to Camelot and help your brother, and you allow me access to Merlin’s spell books.”

“Deal,” Killian says instantly and her lips tug into a slow smirk. She crosses the space between them, the heels of her boots clicking against the floor. Killian swallows and resists the urge to back away. Her very presence radiates power and might, and it dazzles him.

The Dark One snaps her fingers and a large scroll appears, hovering in the air. She hands him a quill, and Killian takes it hesitantly, his fingers brushing against her cool skin.

“Sign on the dotted line,” she says smoothly.

Liam is going to kill me , Killian thinks wryly as he signs. When he draws away, the parchment glows gold and vanishes.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” the Dark One drawls. “Shall we, then?”

“Wait,” Killian stops her. “You haven’t told me your name yet.”

An odd expression flashes across her face and for a moment she looks strangely vulnerable.

“…Emma,” She says at last, slowly, as if she’s not used to saying it. “My name is Emma.”

A beautiful name, Killian thinks and then hastily shakes the thought away. The Dark One, no, Emma strides past him to the entrance and he quickly follows, thinking that she is dangerous; not just for the darkness flowing through her veins but for the strange effect she has on him.

Frankly speaking, Emma thinks this is a terrible idea.

When the Prince of Camelot, Killian, he said his name was, showed up on her doorstep begging for help, Emma’s first instinct was to turn him away. She has no use for random people who come hoping to gain from her powers, nor does she have any desire to use said powers. It’s been ten years since she became the Dark One, and in those ten years, she’d refrained from using her magic as much as possible.

Possible being the keyword.

Dark magic is like a drug. It entices you at every step, luring you in despite your best efforts to stay away. And if you use even a little, even if it’s just a tiny spark to light a candle, that’s it. It’s hopelessly addicting and even the smallest taste leaves you thirsting for more. Even the simple act of conjuring the scroll for Killian to sign had caused an itch under her skin, a terrible urge to use more and more of it.

Emma was born with light magic flowing through her veins, being the product of True Love. The very idea of giving into the darkness she had been cursed with had disgusted her, and she refrained for as long as she could. But in the end it had been too much; the darkness that was always flickering in the corner of her eye tempted her to the point when she eventually gave in, and there was no turning back.

Still, she stubbornly tried to resist. Ignoring the temptations of the darkness as best as she could, she kept from using magic as much as she could. Giving it up altogether was impossible, but resisting and struggling as much as possible… well, that Emma could do.

Once, she was a princess.

Once, she was the beloved of Misthaven, the heiress to the throne, the warrior princess who grew up with a sword in her hand and who joined the fight against the Evil Queen when she was merely eighteen, much to her parents’ protests. The Queen had almost won when she had teamed up with Rumplestilkskin to defeat them, but Emma had had a plan. A rather stupid plan, when she thinks about it now, but a plan, nonetheless.

On the day of the battle, she stole away and to Rumplestiltskin’s castle to find the dagger she knew could control him, thinking that that would be the first step to ending the war.

The dagger could control Rumplestilkskin. That was the extent of her knowledge.

Emma found the dagger, rode back to the battlefield to see Rumplestilkskin standing over the broken, battered body of her little brother, Leo. She had snapped.

Giving into pure rage and hatred, she had driven the dagger through his chest. As she did, Leo’s body vanished in a wisp of smoke, Emma realizing too late that his death was a trick and her vengeance was for nothing. However, her revelation was too late and she was consumed by the darkness.

Now, she is the Dark One.

Even now, she has futile dreams of one day defeating the darkness, of vanquishing it for good and going home. For she cannot return as she is now, cannot face her parents as the Dark One, cannot bear to see the horror and disgust that will surely be there in their faces when they lay their eyes on her. The darkness taunts her, telling her that it is a pipe dream, that what she wants can never be accomplished, that she should simply give up.

But Emma is nothing if not stubborn.

Through the numerous texts and books in the castle, she learned that Camelot is the place where the darkness was born and that the wizard Merlin was the only one who was ever thought to be capable of defeating it.

If Camelot is the place where the darkness was born, then surely it can be the place where it can be defeated.

And having access to Merlin’s spell books will make it all the easier.

Hence her reason for agreeing to Killian’s request.

(And perhaps she sympathizes with him because she knows what it’s like to lose a loved one to the Evil Queen. Emma has suffered much at the Queen’s hands, both directly and indirectly and she has no desire to see another suffer as well.)

It’s still a terrible idea, though.

“We’ll be traveling through the woods,” Killian says, breaking her out of her thoughts. “It’s easier than traveling through the towns. The Queen’s spies are all over the place and I’d rather not have her acquainted with my plans.”

“Fine by me,” Emma says shortly. She definitely prefers the woods to the towns. It’s been almost a decade since she has been in the company of actual, breathing human beings who didn’t approach her for reasons beyond wanting her power, and getting used to being around one person is hard enough, let alone towns and villages of them.

Though she’ll probably have to get used to it pretty quick once they arrive in Camelot.

This is really a terrible idea , Emma thinks with a stifled groan.

She glances at the man walking beside her curiously. Unlike most people who had dared to approach her, he had been quite calm and fearless when he had asked for her help. At first glance, one wouldn’t think that he’s a prince. The clothes he wears are quite plain - although that may be more out of a desire to go unnoticed than anything else and he doesn’t seem to have the stuck-up, snobbish nature that most royals have.

Of course, as a former princess herself (because Emma refuses to think of herself as a princess anymore, not after she practically abandoned her kingdom.) Emma really doesn’t have much room to talk. Her parents had always taught her to be kind and respectful to her subordinates, but the other royals at court didn’t always share their views.

Emma has always been good at reading people, a skill that seems to have been sharpened when she became the Dark One. However, she can’t quite get a read on Killian. He seems perfectly normal at first glance, but there are shadows in his eyes and a quiet tension in his shoulders as if he carries the weight of the world upon them. Again, Emma can’t help but sympathize.

“Why do you want Merlin’s spell books?”

Emma looks up at the question to see Killian studying her curiously as they walk through the woods. “You are the Dark One and you have plenty of magic at your disposal. Why would you need any more?”

“Light and dark magic are quite different,” Emma replies. “This has to do with, let’s say…a personal project of mine.”

“You could easily tear apart Camelot and take the books by force, if you wanted to,” Killian points out. “Why make a deal?”

“I may be the Dark One, but I still have honor,” Emma says sharply and he has the grace to look abashed at her words. “I wouldn’t simply hurt innocents to get what I want.”

“My apologies,” Killian says quietly. “I didn’t mean to assume, I just…haven’t had very good experiences with people of your kind.”

“Welcome to the club,” Emma says wryly. Killian gives her a long look before speaking again.

“Regina…the Evil Queen…what did she do to you?”

Emma stiffens at his question. “What makes you think she did anything?”

“When I mentioned her before, you grew angry,” Killian says and Emma reels, stunned at his perception. “Surely she did something to incur your wrath?”

Emma looks away, unwilling to answer. Killian catches on, thankfully and doesn’t push the issue.

They continue to travel in silence.

Whatever Killian had expected the Dark One to be like, it certainly wasn’t this .

Frankly, his mind had conjured up all sorts of terrifying images of monsters and demons cloaked in darkness with insincere voices and harsh deals. Instead, he has found a guarded, somber woman with haunted eyes and clenched fists. She seems to have a vendetta for some reason against the Evil Queen and Killian finds that he can hardly blame her for that.

The Queen has stolen from him, too.

Of course, Emma doesn’t tell him why she hates the Queen. Which is understandable, of course-she obviously isn’t the type who trusts easily or spills her secrets in the blink of an eye.

They trudge through the woods in silence and Killian stops only at sundown.

“Emma?” He ventures and she whips around to look at him, her eyes widening in shock, and Killian is confused for a moment before he realizes that he used her name for the first time. His heart pangs with sympathy, and he wonders just how long it has been since anyone called her by name.

“What is it?” Emma asks after a beat, a strange, soft note in her voice that sends a shiver down his spine. Trying to ignore the feeling, he continues.

“We should stop for the night and get some rest. We can continue at dawn.”

“Oh…right, of course.”

Killian frowns at the pause; it’s as if she never even considered the fact that they might have to rest at one point. Perhaps she doesn’t tire easily? Or pushes herself too hard? She certainly seems like the type.

Why does he care, anyway?

They find an empty clearing, and Killian offers his satchel to Emma, telling her to pick freely from his stash of food while he starts a fire. Soon enough, they are sitting on opposite sides of the camp, eating some of the meat pasties from Killian’s stash, an awkward silence hanging between them.

After his meal, Killian pulls out his flask and offers it to her, hoping to break the strained quiet. “Rum?”

Emma quirks an eyebrow, but accepts it anyway. “Are you sure you’re a prince and not a pirate?” she asks dryly and Killian chuckles.

“Perhaps I’m a bit of both.” He had never been an orthodox prince anyway, always preferring the taverns and the open seas to his castle. Before Father’s death, he’d been lax in his duties, serving as a great source of frustration for Father and Liam. Killian had sobered up quite a bit after his father’s sudden death, but it wasn’t until after losing Milah that he threw himself into his princely duties; especially duties that pertained to winning the war against the Queen. He’d once thirsted for outright vengeance, but Liam and Belle had talked him down, serving as voices of reason to break through the anger and sorrow that had surrounded him.

“We should get to bed,” Killian says presently. “We need to be well rested if we are to leave at dawn.”

“Sleep,” Emma tells him, her voice quiet. “I’ll keep watch.”

Killian opens his mouth to protest-they are a quite a way from the villages within the domain of the Queen, and it would be ungentlemanly on his part to let her keep watch while he rests - but something in her face makes him stop, and he instead agrees reluctantly.

“If you’re certain.”

She gives him a terse nod and he obeys her wishes, lying down on his side with his back to her before he closes his eyes.

Sleep does not come easily to him that night. Whenever Killian turns, subtly, to glance at Emma, he finds her curled up under a tree, fiddling with an unfinished dream catcher, her movements fevered and hasty as she hurries to complete it. Her eyes are almost black with the shadows that lurk in them and her fingers tremble from time to time, causing the twine she’s weaving to slip out of her hand, eliciting a curse from her before she returns to her task.

The flames have burned down to mere embers by the time Killian slips into a restless slumber, full of dream catchers and Milah’s laughing eyes and darkness swallowed by fire.

The nights are really the worst, Emma reflects, as the sky blushes pink with the early light of dawn. If there’s one thing she misses about being mortal, it is sleep. It has been a decade since she has slept, or even felt that physical need to sleep, for that matter. She has been spending the nights by weaving dream catchers and immersing herself in memories of the past, in hopes of chasing away that darkness that always lurks by her side.

It never works.

With a sigh, Emma tucks the finished dream catcher away into a pocket of her dress and grimaces at the sight of her fingers, rubbed raw from the twine she had been weaving all night. The marks will disappear soon, but Emma hates the thought of Killian noticing and asking her about it; as he undoubtedly will.

Emma absently rubs at the marks on her hands, flinching when the darkness cackles.

Go on, dearie, vanish them away. After all, you don’t want him to see you for what you truly are: a monster.

Shut up, Emma thinks savagely, magic sparking under her skin with the force of her anger.

As if on cue, Killian stirs and Emma draws back her magic, breathing in deeply as she tries to calm herself.

He sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes and gives her a lopsided smile. “Good morning, love.”

Emma raises a brow at the endearment and says nothing, but warmth builds in her chest.

The darkness hisses in disapproval, and retreats.

Killian takes an apple out of his satchel and offers it to Emma, but she declines, wrinkling her nose. Ten years as an immortal being, and she still isn’t quite comfortable around apples.

Well, given her family history, it’s understandable.

Killian looks puzzled at her aversion, but lets it go, taking a bite out of the apple.

“Why did you not sleep last night?” he asks casually, and Emma sighs, having expected him to ask.

“Dark Ones don’t sleep,” she replies shortly and rises, brushing leaves off her dress. “We should get a move on.”

“As you wish.”

While they continue travelling, Killian keeps up a light stream of conversation, Emma’s replies and comments are few and far in between, but she enjoys listening to him speak. It’s been a long time since she was given the comfort of good company, and even the small talk that the prince makes is welcome.

Killian speaks of his brother often, clear admiration and love in his voice when he does. Through what he tells her of him, Emma finds herself respecting Liam, he sounds like a good and honorable man. Killian does not say why Camelot is at war with the Evil Queen, however, a shadow crossing his face at the very mention of it. Emma doesn’t ask, knowing from experience that some things are just too painful to talk about.

The pleasant time comes to an end soon, as the sound of heavy footsteps clamoring through the forest makes them pause and look at each other in dismay.

“Black Knights,” Killian says grimly and they both draw their swords.

There are about a dozen of them and the leader gives Killian an ugly smirk. “Well, if it isn’t the Prince of Camelot. Far from home, aren’t you? And who is your…companion?”

He leers at Emma and she gives him a smile that is all teeth and no humor. Killian remains defiantly silent, his knuckles turning white as he grips his sword tighter.

The leader nods at the other knights. “Kill them.”

The knights may be well trained, but they are no match for them. Killian is a skilled swordsman, Emma notices, disarming the first who charges at him and running the second through. Emma, on the other hand, steadfastly ignores the darkness that whispers to her, tempting her to use her magic to kill them all and instead wields her cutlass to either disarm or wound them so they are unable to get up. She only kills the ones who arm persistent; shuddering as every drop of blood spilled adds another black patch to her already darkened heart.

Emma has killed before, of course. Not too long after she became the Dark One, Black Knights of the Queen came to her castle, looking for answers about what had happened to Rumplestiltskin. When they found that the new Dark One was actually the Princess of Misthaven, they had laughed cruelly, taunting her even as she tried to ignore them.

“The Crown Princess has gone dark,” One of them taunted. “I wonder how the people of Misthaven would react to this. They would surely turn on Snow White and Prince Charming, and the Queen would win.”

Emma snapped.

Before she knew it, she was striding across the expanse of floor to him and he got little warning before she plunged her hand into his chest and took a hold of his heart. He let out a cry of pain and his fellow knights gasped in fear.

Emma ripped her hand out, clutching the beating organ as the knight gripped at his chest, staring at her with fearful eyes.

‘Go ahead,’ the darkness whispered. ‘Crush it.’

“No,” Emma mumbled blankly, gazing down at the heart, her hand trembling. “I can’t.”

‘Yes, you can,’ the darkness hissed. ‘He deserves it. He deserves to die.’

Emma’s grip around the heart tightened, and the knight let out a pained gasp as he collapsed to the floor, begging for mercy. She ignored him, her gaze focused on the darkness that hovered at her side, encouraging her.

‘If you let him live-let them live, they will tell the kingdom about what happened to you. They will turn on your parents and the Evil Queen will have the opportunity to kill them. Is that what you want?’

“No!” Emma gasped out, her voice tortured. “I can’t let them die!”

‘Then do it. Crush his heart.’

“If I kill him, I will become just like him. Like Regina.”

‘It’s not murder, dearie, it’s an execution,’ the darkness tempted. ‘Think about the many he must have killed while serving the Queen. It’s what he deserves.’

“You deserve to die,” Emma told the knight, mindlessly parroting the darkness’ words as she squeezed the heart tighter. The knight screamed in pain and rasped out broken pleas.

“Mercy, please! I’ll do anything-“

He abruptly cut off as the life faded from him and his body hit the floor. Emma stood still, gazing at the dust seeping from between her fingers.

The other knights made to move, to run away. Emma spun around, her hardened gaze freezing them in place.

‘Don’t show them any mercy,’ the darkness said. ‘Kill them.’

Emma raised her hand and twisted it. Suddenly, the knights were clutching at their necks, struggling for air as an unseen pressure curbed any of their attempts to draw in breath. Emma held it up for a few minutes until they collapsed to the floor, dead.

‘Very good, dearie,’ the darkness said, before promptly vanishing.

The dull crimson haze that had covered Emma’s vision disappeared as well and she gasped, staring at the bodies that lay around her in horror.

“No. No! What have I done?!”

Her knees weakened, and she sank to the ground, drawing in harsh, labored breaths. “No….” She muttered, as darkness engulfed her. When it vanished, the gold of her hair had faded to silver, her skin had become unnaturally pale and the armor and breeches she’d worn before had turned to a leathery costume of stark black.

At that moment, Emma knew (and the darkness never failed to reassure her of it) that there was no going back.

Killian lets out a sharp hiss of pain, rousing Emma from her memories, and she whips around to see him gingerly brushing his prosthetic across his right shoulder, blood seeping through the thin material of his shirt. The knight who injured him raises his sword, preparing to lop off his head and an urgent bolt of panic rushes through Emma. She hastily waves her hand, and the knight flies into a tree and promptly falls unconscious.

The other guards, stunned by Emma’s display of magic, take to their heels and flee.

Killian sinks down onto a log and with a bit of struggle, manages to lift the sleeve of his shirt with his prosthetic, inspecting the wound with a grimace. Emma hovers awkwardly. The wound isn’t too deep, but it looks nasty. And painful.

“I could, uh, heal it. If you want,” Emma says hesitantly. Killian glances up at her, looking rather surprised at the offer, and shakes his head.

“There’s no need, love. I…noticed that you were rather averse to using your magic during the fight. I don’t want you to needlessly use it on my behalf.”

Emma’s heart does a little flip in her chest, so startled and touched is she at his perception. She sits down next to him and offers him a genuine smile.

“It’s no problem. Really.”

Killian’s cheeks tinge crimson and he ducks his head shyly, holding out his arm. Emma takes his hand in hers, pretending not to notice the shiver that wracks through his body at the contact. She pauses momentarily, shutting her eyes. She knows she’s already promised to heal Killian’s brother, but this, somehow, is different. It shouldn’t be, really. But it is, and the thought of messing it up frightens her far more than the thought of failing to heal his brother does.

“It’s alright,” Killian murmurs gently and Emma opens her eyes in shock. He smiles up at her gently. “I trust you.”

Emma’s heart stutters painfully in her chest at his words and without another thought, the magic flows through her body. Killian lets out a gasp as the wound closes smoothly, not even leaving a scar. Emma smiles in triumph, withdrawing her hand.

“Thank you,” Killian says gratefully. Emma gives him a short, jerky nod, her fingers still tingling from where she touched him (and not from the magic) and glances down at his arm, her attention diverted by the crimson tattoo that decorates it.

“Who’s Milah, on the tattoo?”

The warmth in Killian’s eyes vanishes, and he quickly stands, yanking down the sleeve of his shirt to cover the tattoo. “No one,” He says quietly, sheathing his sword and slinging his bag over his shoulder. Emma stands as well, realizing his aversion to discussing the topic.

“We’d better get a move on,” Killian continues, avoiding her gaze. “If we move fast, any knights that are still around won’t be able to catch up.”

“Right, let’s go.”

When night falls, they are only a few hours away from Camelot. They stop and set up camp as they did the night before, and Killian glances at Emma as he lights the fire.

She has not spoken since he dismissed her question about the tattoo. Killian sighs as he thinks of it…the knowledge of what had happened five years ago is so common in Camelot that no one has questioned him about it in a long while. Emma’s question came as a shock, and his first instinct was to shut her down completely, the wound left by Milah’s passing still raw and bleeding; even the loss of his hand not comparing to it.

Killian looks at Emma again. He fears that he might have offended her by his silence on the topic. He’s not sure why he cares about her opinion of him so much. It’s true that she’s the key to saving his brother, but it’s much more than that. She’s not the cold, ruthless demon he had pictured in his mind, but instead a rather complex woman; a witch who avoids using her magic, who remains awake during the night and weaves dream catchers. She healed his wound like it was nothing, and her touch had sent flames shooting up his arm. She carries the weight of the world upon her shoulders and her eyes are full of old pain and buried hopes.

“Emma?” He begins tentatively and she looks over at him, raising her eyebrows in silent question. “I apologize for being short with you earlier, it’s just that-“

“It’s alright,” Emma interjects. “I brought up a painful topic. I apologize for that.”

“How do you know it’s painful?” Killian asks defensively. Emma smiles wryly.

“You’re something of an open book,” She says simply. “And it takes one to know one.”

“You lost someone?”

Emma nods. “A lot of someones, actually,” She says. Killian’s heart pangs in sympathy.

“Milah was my fiancée,” He begins haltingly. “She was killed by the Queen’s black knights,” Killian holds up his prosthetic. “It’s how I got this.”

He expects to see pity in her face, but finds nothing but a quiet understanding. “I’m sorry,” Emma says sincerely.

They remain in companionable silence, after that, the only sounds being the crackling of the fire and the occasional snapping of a twig. It feels like they are closer, somehow, as if at least one of the many walls that stand between them has been broken down. Killian finds himself drifting off soon, and the last thing he hears is Emma’s whispered ‘goodnight’ before he falls into a deep slumber.

Emma does not weave her dream catchers that night.

Instead, she thinks of things she hasn’t allowed herself to ponder for a long time. She thinks of the way her mother’s brow crinkled every time she laughed, of how her father lovingly cradled the back of her head every time he hugged her and of the way she and Leo would run around the castle, staging mock sword fights and driving the staff to near distraction.

She thinks of Killian and the gentleness of his smile when he told her he trusted her.

She thinks of the way using her magic had felt right , for once, when she wielded it to vanish away Killian’s wound.

And for once, the darkness remains silent.

The next day, they reach Camelot by noon.

Emma swallows apprehensively at the large number of guards and courtiers waiting at the gates to greet them, or rather, to greet Killian.

Killian, as if sensing her discomfort, slips his hand into hers and squeezes reassuringly. Emma glances up at him sharply, his touch sending heat through her body.

Killian retracts his hand and gives her a last smile; just as a dark haired woman comes running out of the gates and towards them.

“Killian!” She hugs him tightly, and Emma takes a step back, irrational jealousy flaring in her gut. Is she his lover? Or his wife, perhaps? He’d never mentioned having one, though.

“ Belle ,” Killian grunts. “I can’t breathe, lass.”

The woman, Belle, draws away slightly and sniffs. “I was worried,” she says. “Can you blame me?”

Belle glances past Killian at Emma and her eyes widen. “Is that-“

Killian releases her and nods. “Aye. Emma-” he turns to her. “This is Belle, the castle’s librarian. Belle, Emma.”

“You succeeded,” Belle breathes, a large grin lighting up her face.

“Did you doubt I would?” Killian teases and then his eyes grow serious. “How’s Liam?”

“Not good,” Belle says somberly. “He’s finding it hard to even stand, now. And he’s worried about you.”

Killian rolls his eyes. “Of course he is,” He mutters, but there’s affection in his voice. “Bloody idiot won’t even worry about himself. Well, there’s no time to waste,” he nods to Emma. “Shall we?”

“Of course.”

Belle looks nervous. “Uh, maybe I should talk to him first. He’s not going to be happy that you, uh-” She glances hesitantly at Emma.

“Brought the Dark One into his home?” Emma finishes for her, dryly, and Belle flinches, as if waiting for Emma to blow up in her face. When she does nothing of the sort, Belle looks visibly relieved and leads them into the castle.

“Wait here,” she tells them when they stop outside the king’s chambers and slips into the room, shutting the door behind her.

Emma and Killian wait in awkward silence and she catches him wincing when the sound of raised voices reach their ears. They hear Belle’s voice, soft and pleading; and then a noise of assent before Belle exits the room, looking harried.

“I take it my brother isn’t exactly an ideal patient?” Killian asks with a forced grin. Belle looks unamused.

“He wants to talk to you,” She informs him and Killian nods, glancing back at Emma.

“Go ahead,” Emma tells him. “I’ll be fine.”

Killian smiles and Belle narrows her eyes, looking back and forth between them sharply. Emma ignores her curious gaze, but feels heat creeping up her neck.

Killian casts her one final glance before entering the room.

“Hello, Liam,” Killian greets his brother with forced levity, his heart sinking at the sight of Liam’s condition. His brother is gaunt and pale, black veins from the poison creeping up his arms.

“What the bloody hell is wrong with you?”

Well, at least it seems like Liam still has his temper.

“Liam-” Killian begins, but is abruptly interrupted.

“You brought the Dark One into our castle?”

Liam speaks the words with disgust and Killian feels a sharp jolt of anger rush through him. He forces it down, trying to maintain his calm.

“It’s the only way to save you.”

Liam scoffs and Killian flinches at the harsh sound. “By resorting to dark magic? Aye, sounds like a wonderful plan.”

“I’d rather use dark magic than watch you die,” Killian snaps defiantly and Liam’s eyes flash.

“After all that we’ve suffered-“ He begins lowly. “After all that you’ve suffered because of dark magic-shouldn’t you be disgusted at the very idea of seeking it out for help?”

“Any magic that could be used to save your life could never be dark,” Killian says passionately and Liam seems to soften slightly at that. But the next moment, he’s protesting again.

“And the Dark One , at that, Killian…do you know how dangerous that is? He could have killed you.”

“She, actually.”

“What?”

“The Dark One is a woman.”

Liam raises his eyebrows at that, but continues. “Regardless, how do we know that we can trust her?”

“You can trust me ,” Killian says steadily. “You can trust me that she’s not lying, that she really is ready to help you.”

Liam regards him in silence for a long moment and then sighs in relent. “Very well, you can send her in.”

Killian nods, relieved, but before he can call Emma in, Liam stops him. “Wait. I know that the Dark One makes deals. What did you promise her in return?”

Killian shifts uncomfortably, reaching up to scratch behind his ear. “Ah…about that…”

“Spit it out, Killian.”

“I promised her access to Merlin’s spell books.”

“You did what ?!”

“Alright, I’m calling her in,” Killian says quickly, ignoring Liam’s outraged protests. He hurries to the door to open it and ushers Emma in, smiling weakly when she raises a brow at him.

“Good to see you’re still alive. I heard shouting.”

“Right as rain, love,” Killian promises, and over Emma’s shoulder, sees Belle’s eyebrows disappear into her hairline. “Come on in,” He mumbles hastily, blushing.

Emma notices, and smirks at his embarrassment before sweeping past him into the room.

Liam pushes himself up on his pillows and tries to look as intimidating as possible, but Emma doesn’t look the least bit fazed by the effect.

“Hello,” She says softly. “My name is Emma, I’m-“

“I know who you are, Dark One ,” Liam says tersely and Killian groans, wanting to punch his brother. Emma looks unaffected.

“I was going to say that I’m here to save your sorry ass,” Emma says calmly, and next to Killian, Belle chokes. “But it’s nice to see how grateful you are.”

Liam goes red at the chastisement and Killian struggles not to laugh, reflecting that Emma really doesn’t seem to give a damn about whether they’re royalty or not. Then again, she is the Dark One; she has no reason to be intimidated by them when she could easily snap their necks in the fraction of a second.

For some reason, that really doesn’t bother him at all.

“My apologies,” Liam mutters, and Emma makes a noise of dismissal, moving closer to the bed. She observes his condition in silence, the inky veins travelling up from his arm, disappearing into the sleeve of his shirt. The veins on his chest are obscured by his clothing, but can be seen inching up from the collar of his shirt, dangerously close to reaching his face.

Emma releases a deep breath. “Alright,” she murmurs. She positions her hand over Liam’s chest, slowly rotating it, stretching and motioning her fingers as if to draw something out. Emma’s arm shimmers a bright gold and Killian stares, transfixed, unable to look away.

This may be dark magic, but it also may be hands down the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Beside Killian, Belle squeezes her eyes shut, clasping her hands together; as if sending up a silent prayer.

Liam’s body glows, and a ripple of magic pulses through the room, nearly knocking Killian and Belle off their feet. Liam gasps in shock as the veins marring his skin vanish, the color returning to his cheeks and the strength to his limbs.

Killian sags in relief and before he can even say or do anything, Belle rushes past him to the bed, practically collapsing on it as she flings her arms around Liam. His eyes widen in pleasure, and he draws her closer, pressing a kiss to her head.

Emma backs away from them, looking visibly exhausted. Killian lays a tentative hand on her shoulder, smiling at her gratefully.

“Thank you, Emma.”

“No problem,” Emma says brusquely, but her pale face flushes, her mouth curving into a pleased smile.

Killian feels the oddest urge to kiss that smile from her lips.

Coughing, he hastily backs away, just in time as Liam and Belle part from their embrace.

Liam stands up and offers Emma a courteous smile. “I owe you my life, milady.”

“There’s the gratitude,” Emma quips and Liam has the grace to look abashed. “It’s no big deal,” She continues. “As long as your brother there follows up on our deal, of course,” She gives Killian a pointed stare.

Belle looks confused. “Wait, what deal?”

“Access to Merlin’s spell books in exchange for the King’s recovery,” Emma says breezily and Killian shifts uncomfortably under Belle’s incredulous stare. “That’s the deal we made.”

“I’ll retrieve the spell books for you,” Liam says briskly. “Belle, would you escort Lady Emma to the library? Killian, you should accompany them.”

Killian sees Emma’s lips twitch into a knowing smile, clearly understanding that Liam wants him to go along for Belle’s safety. Thankfully, Emma doesn’t seem insulted by Liam’s lack of trust in her, only amused.

Before they leave, Liam strides up to Killian and hugs him. “Thank you, little brother,” he murmurs. “I was right to trust your judgment.”

“ Younger brother,” Killian corrects him, but he can’t hold back his delighted smile.

“It’s quite the collection you have here,” Emma remarks when they step into the castle’s expansive library. “Do you manage this all by yourself?”

The question is directed to Belle, who flushes.

“I have help, of course,” She stammers, still clearly intimidated by Emma. “But mostly, yes.”

Emma hums in reply. The library in the castle of the Dark One was possibly as expansive as this one, but that had more of texts concerning dark magic and ancient spells. Most of the books had been dangerous, even; the spells written in them could be blown off the page and towards a target. The library itself had been dark, musty and unorganized; and the airy, bright and neat room in this castle is a stark contrast to it.

Belle goes to arrange something at the counter, and Emma and Killian find a table at the back and settle down.

“So,” Emma begins casually. “How long has Camelot been at war with the Evil Queen?”

“About five years, now,” Killian replies. “Why?”

“Just curious,” Emma mumbles, picking at the sleeve of her dress. Killian clearly doesn’t buy it, and opens his mouth to question her further, but is interrupted as Liam appears with the spell books. Emma’s eyes light up at the sight of them. There are only a couple of them, but they could be the first step to finally defeating the darkness.

The darkness cackles in amusement. Quite naïve of you, dearie , it sneers. Haven’t you learnt by now? The darkness cannot be vanquished; you’re wasting your time with this little endeavor. Your time could be spent in a better way, like taking revenge on the Queen for all that she has done.

Emma firmly ignores the darkness, clenching her fists under the table in an attempt to curb the prickling under her skin.

“These are all of them,” Liam says, setting them down on the table. “But it’s getting quite late. I asked the servants to prepare a room for you, so perhaps you could rest for the night instead.”

“Thank you,” Emma says, deciding against mentioning that she really doesn’t need rest. “That’s very kind of you.”

“You’re welcome,” Liam says and turns to Killian. “There’s a Council Meeting. Your presence is required.”

“I just got back,” Killian protests but Liam just gives him a stern, no-nonsense look and he sighs and acquiesces, rising to his feet.

“I’ll see you later,” He tells Emma with a rueful smile and she nods, ignoring Liam’s suspicious frown.

The room that has been prepared for Emma is large spacious, a huge, four poster bed by the window as well as a desk, a vanity and a wardrobe. It’s not unlike Emma’s own bedroom back when she used to be a princess, and for a minute, she aches with homesickness, wishing for nothing but to go back to those simpler times.

The wardrobe has been furnished with clothes as well, most of them beautiful dresses of bright colors, ranging from cotton to satin. Emma ignores them completely, finding a grey silk nightgown and putting it on. She has no intention of sleeping, of course, but it’s far more comfortable than her black dress.

Emma sits at the desk with one of Merlin’s spell books open, a roll of parchment next to it. This particular book is in a foreign language, but thankfully, during her time as the Dark One, she dedicated a lot of her time to learning new languages. This one is a bit trickier than most, but Emma sets her quill to the parchment determinedly, ready to do whatever it takes to get some answers.

As the hours pass, the light dims and the shadows lengthen. Just as Emma flicks her wrist to light the lamps in her room, there’s a knock on her door. She rolls up the parchment and tucks into the book before going to the door to open it.

It’s Killian.

“Good evening,” he greets. “I just wanted to see if everything’s alright with your room.”

“Its fine,” Emma assures him. “Your brother is very kind,” Killian looks a bit awkward, standing in the doorway, and she steps aside. “Would you like to come in?”

Killian looks startled. “I’m not sure that would be appropriate.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “I’m not inviting you in for anything inappropriate, just so we can talk more comfortably.”

Killian gives her rakish grin, though the effect of it is lessened by his flushed face. “I wouldn’t object to….more pleasurable activities, milady.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Emma says dryly although she is rather surprised that he even tried to flirt with her. He’s never made an advance before. Still, it must be easier now that he doesn’t have the threat of his brother’s death hanging over him. “Come on in.”

They sit side by side on the huge bed and talk about many things and Killian asks her how the progress with the book is coming along.

“Slowly,” Emma says. “But I know I’ll get through soon.”

“Why do you want those books?” Killian asks. It’s not the first time he’s asked her this and Emma isn’t surprised, knowing her never bought her lies before. Still, she doesn’t tell him the truth.

The Dark One lies, the Dark One tricks.

“Why every great wizard does,” She says offhandedly. “To gain more power.”

“You don’t even like using your power,” Killian points out.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be using it to level your kingdom,” Emma says acidly, her temper getting the best of her. Killian looks taken aback.

“I know you wouldn’t do that,” He speaks the words which so much certainty that it makes her heart ache. Emma ducks her head, feeling guilty.

“Sorry,” she mumbles. Killian waves it away.

“S’alright, Emma.”

He lingers a bit more than is strictly necessary, talking about such mundane things that Emma wonders if he’s doing it on purpose to spend more time with her. Then she shoots the idea down, not wanting to explore that line of thought now. Or ever.

Killian chuckles, dragging Emma out her musings and she looks at him inquiringly. “What?”

“Nothing,” He says with a grin. “I was just thinking that if Liam knew I were here, he’d certainly kill me.”

Emma frowns. “Why?”

“Well, it’s not very gentlemanly to be in a lady’s quarters at night.”

Emma snorts. “Aren’t you the type of prince who prefers the taverns and towns over the comfort of his own castle?” She’d know. She was the same.

“A rake I may be, but I still believe in good form,” Killian insists. “And as for a lady such as yourself-“

Emma cuts him off. “I’m not a lady,” She says shortly. “I’m the Dark One.”

“You may be the Dark One, but you are still a woman,” Killian murmurs, his eyes sweeping over her form in a manner that leaves her pulse racing. “And a breathtakingly beautiful woman, at that.”

Emma swallows, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks. Suddenly the large, spacious room feels far too small, the respectable space they had put between them suddenly not enough. She searches his eyes for the lie, but finds nothing but sincerity.

Her eyes flicker to his mouth, then, and the irrational urge to haul him into a kiss startles her out of her daze.

“I think it’s time you go,” Emma breathes, curling her hands into fists so she doesn’t give into the temptation of touching him. Killian nods slowly, seemingly as dazed as she is.

“Right. Of course.” He rises and holds her gaze for a long moment before giving her a short bow. “Goodnight, milady.”

Killian leaves the room quickly and Emma allows herself to collapse on the bed, drawing in her breaths harshly.

What the hell had just happened?

When Killian is done with his duties the next day, he goes straight to the library to see Emma. Belle barely acknowledges him when he enters, practically buried in a pile of books.

He finds Emma at the back, writing on a parchment while referring the books scattered on the table. Killian sits down from across her, waiting patiently for her to finish.

Finally, Emma sets down her quill and looks at him expectantly. “What?”

“Good morning to you too, Emma,” Killian chuckles, a little relieved to see that she doesn’t seem to be bothered in the least about the moment they had shared the night before.

Looking back on it, Killian honestly doesn’t know what he was thinking. Going into her rooms in the first place had been a bad idea. Calling her beautiful an almost kissing her, for Killian is sure that if she had not asked him to leave he would have definitely kissed her-was an even worse idea.

But Emma had looked so relaxed, the nightgown she wore giving her a younger, girlish appearance, that Killian had let any rational thought fly out of the window.

“Good morning,” Emma replies. “Now then, what did you want?”

“As charming as ever, I see,” Killian teases. Emma actually laughs, as if enjoying an inside joke, and the sound is like music to Killian’s ears. “I simply wanted the pleasure of your company.”

“Don’t you have Council Meetings and princely duties?”

“Done,” Killian gives her a mock pout. “Are you truly that eager to get rid of me?”

Emma huffs, looking amused. “Fine, you can stay. Just don’t disturb me.”

“As you wish, milady.”

Killian busies himself with an administrative text, but ends up not paying much attention to it; constantly distracted by the curve of Emma’s jaw, the way she frowns in frustration upon encountering something particularly trying, the few strands of hair that slip out of her normally immaculate bun when she rakes her fingers through it in frustration.

Bloody hell, Killian thinks, forcing his gaze away from her and back to his book. I’ve got to stop this.

Emma sets down her quill after a while, rubbing at her tired eyes with a groan.

“Alright, love?” Killian asks in concern, the text forgotten.

“Yeah…just…this isn’t exactly easy,” Emma sighs. “I’m getting there, but…..” she rotates her neck, wincing at the tension.

Before Killian can think twice, he gets up and moves to stand behind her. Emma twists in her seat to look at him.

“What are you doing?”

“I thought I’d help you relax,” Killian murmurs. The dress she’s wearing today exposes her back and shoulders and when Killian ghosts his palm over the bare skin, Emma stiffens momentarily at the contact.

“Is this okay?” Killian asks tentatively. Emma hesitates for a moment and nods.

Encouraged by her assent, Killian settles his hand at the base of her neck and begins to gently knead at the muscles, slowly easing out the knots. Emma lets her head fall back with a soft groan of approval. Killian freezes at the sound, heat rushing to his cheeks, but continues with his task, forcing himself not to react to the little sounds she makes.

Killian rubs at her shoulders next, massaging until he feels all the tension seep out. He then moves to gently toy with her hair, twisting and weaving the strands that have escaped her up do.

He should move away. He really should, it’s probably the gentlemanly thing to do, but Killian doesn’t and Emma doesn’t tell him to, either, her eyes closed in content.

She is like a siren, Killian thinks, rousing feelings and desires that he has not felt in a long time, causing his broken heart to beat again.

He wants to kiss her, right at the spot where her pulse flutters in her neck, to map out the freckles dotting her skin with his lips and teeth, to draw out those intoxicating sounds from her again and again.

Killian lets out a barely audible groan at his own thoughts. What is this woman-this beautiful, mysterious woman-doing to him? He hasn’t felt such a swift, powerful attraction to anyone in so long, no, not since Milah-

Milah.

The reminder of his lost love is like a swift punch to the gut. Killian steps back from Emma like he’s been burned, eliciting a small noise of confusion from her as she turns to look at him.

“I-I’m sorry,” Killian gasps out, his mind whirling, the very thought of Milah sending flaming agony and guilt through his veins. “I-I have to go.”

Before Emma can say a word, Killian turns and strides out of the library.

Emma knows that she has been starved of physical affection for a long time, but this is just insane.

As she slowly got to know Killian over the past few days, it quickly became obvious that he was a very physically affectionate person, casual with his touches.

Every touch sets her off, causing an intense buzz in her veins. His touch shouldn’t affect her this much, but it does, heat flaring in her stomach at the slightest brush of skin against skin. And as for Killian’s gentle way of easing the tension from her shoulders, it had left her positively addicted. Every rational part of Emma’s brain screamed at her to get away, but she was helpless to move. Killian might be a mere mortal, but he has still bested her.

But then Killian had sharply pulled away, leaving the library with stammered apologies. Emma sits at her table quietly, her work abandoned as she tries to figure out the reason for his hasty departure.

He probably came to his senses, dearie, the darkness taunts. He must’ve finally realized that it’s the Dark One he’s dallying with, not a normal woman.

“He doesn’t think that,” Emma mutters aloud, digging her nails into her palm until she draws blood. The wounds vanish instantly, but the sting of the act remains. Then Killian’s words from the previous night come rushing back to her.

“You may be the Dark One, but you’re still a woman.”

He wasn’t lying….was he? Emma’s ability to detect lies has always been uncanny, since long before she became the Dark One, but her emotions always tend to cloud her judgment.

They were merely pretty words, the darkness says immediately. Don’t believe a thing of what he says. You know better than that. Everybody lies. Everybody leaves. There’s no use getting attached.

The darkness is probably right, Emma thinks.

Everybody leaves. Everything good vanishes.

Killian is no exception.

Knowing she won’t get any more work done, not now, Emma gathers up her notes and storms out of the library, ignoring all the fascinated courtiers and maidservants who stop to gaze at her as she passes them by. She sighs in relief when she reaches the solitude of her chambers, slamming the door shut.

Emma hates this. She hates caring so much about what Killian thinks, about whether he’s lying to her or not, about him. She hates the burn of rejection in her gut when he left her hastily. And Emma hates the longing she feels for him to return, to make her smile with his small talk and attempts at flirting.

And she absolutely hates the acute pain in her heart at the thought of him just being someone who leaves her in the end.

Killian escapes the castle for a while and rides to his favorite spot to think, a cliff that overlooks the sea. The sight of the waves crashing over the rocks and the ships in the harbor and the sea gulls flitting around the cliffs calms his heart slightly, the pain ebbing to a dull ache.

What was he thinking?

To be harboring such romantic thoughts about a woman is surely a dishonor to Milah’s memory. When she died, he’d sworn to himself to remain faithful to her memory forever, to never love again.

And the worst part is that Killian doesn’t even know if this is love. With Milah, it had been easy. He’d fallen hard and fast and knew without a doubt what his feelings towards her were.

But with Emma, it’s different.

He knows that his heart beats faster whenever she’s around, that a rare laugh or smile from her builds an indescribable warmth in his chest, that he always wants to seek her out and be by her side, that he wants to chase away the shadows in her eyes and the sadness in her heart.

But he doesn’t know if he loves her.

And that’s probably the worst thing out of this whole mess, not knowing .

Light footsteps sound behind him and before Killian can turn, Belle appears by his side suddenly, offering him a kind smile as she sits down.

“Everything okay?”

Perceptive as ever. Killian lies, trying to play it off as nothing. “Of course, lass.”

Belle hums in disbelief, clearly not buying it. “Uh huh. Then why did I see you leave the library as quickly as you did? Not to mention, Emma did the exact same thing not too long after.”

Killian curses inwardly, knowing that he must’ve hurt or offended her with his abrupt departure. He can deal with her hating him, but he can’t stand the thought of her being hurt because of him.

There it is again.

“You’re falling for her, aren’t you?” Belle asks knowingly. Killian stiffens.

“ Belle -” he pleads. “Don’t.”

Belle crosses her arms and looks at him expectantly. “Don’t what?”

“Just don’t,” Killian says shortly. “I can’t fall in love with her.”

“Why in the world not?” Belle demands.

“Milah. I’d be dishonoring her memory-“

“That’s utter crap and you know it,” Belle snaps and Killian blinks in surprise at her curse. “You know Milah would want you to be happy, not wasting away like this.”

“Wasting away?” Killian repeats indignantly.

“ Yes. That’s exactly what you’re doing, shutting the world out, even Liam and I at times and not allowing yourself to fall in love.”

When Killian says nothing, instead staring at the horizon, Belle sighs and reaches over to take his hand.

“You deserve this, Killian. You deserve a second chance at love.”

“I-”

“Just because you’re falling in love again doesn’t mean you’re loving Milah any less,” Belle says patiently. “You’re honoring her memory by moving on.”

Killian simply nods, absently brushing his prosthetic over the tattoo on his arm. Belle sighs, and pulls him into a one armed hug.

“Come on,” She says presently. “We should get back to the castle.”

The next day, Emma is back working in the library again. Belle throws her an odd look when she enters, but quickly covers it with a welcoming smile. A little puzzled by it but deciding to brush it off, Emma returns to the books.

A passage in one of Merlin’s books makes her pause. The word ‘Excalibur’ is mentioned, along with a theory about it being a weapon with the ability to destroy the darkness.

Excitement surges through Emma, her heart racing and she quickly flips through the pages. Sure enough, Merlin has written the details of how the darkness came to be. The first to be tethered to it was a woman named Nimue and Merlin broke the sword Excalibur in half, using one half to create the Dark One dagger, which he tied the darkness to. The other half of Excalibur was set in a stone, not too far away from Camelot, only to be drawn out by its rightful owner.

Emma closes the book and leans back, thinking. If only she could get her hands on this ‘Excalibur’ and translate the rest of Merlin’s works, then maybe, just maybe she could finally destroy the darkness.

Of course, there is the problem of finding Excalibur. And according to what Merlin wrote, only the rightful owner of the sword could draw it out of the stone. Emma isn’t quite sure as to what that means. Does that mean the Dark One, as the dagger that controls her is the other half of Excalibur. Or is the meaning a little more traditional, the rightful owner being someone of great courage and a true heart?

If that is the case, then all is in vain, Emma thinks a little bitterly. After all, she has none of those things.

Still, it’s a start.

Emma rises and hurries to Belle, who is sorting out books at the counter. “Are there any books on magical artifacts here?”

Belle nods. “Yes, anything in particular?”

Emma hesitates before she answers. “Anything that mentions the sword Excalibur.”

Belle looks skeptical. “Excalibur’s only a myth,” she points out. “Are you sure that’s what you’re looking for?”

“ Yes ,” Emma says impatiently. The darkness is hissing in disapproval and she can feel it struggling for dominance, to try and quell her desire to destroy it. Magic threatens to seep from her hands and Emma clenches them into fists, ignoring the burn.

Belle, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice and is about to agree to her request when the doors to the library slam open.

The young librarian swings around with a scowl, ready to scold whoever it is but falls short when she sees Liam and Killian stride in, looking tense.

Emma carefully averts her gaze from Killian’s, clenching her fists even tighter as the darkness continues to struggle.

“What’s wrong?” Belle asks worriedly, her gaze darting between them. Liam and Killian share a glance before the older brother speaks.

“Bad news,” Liam admits, quiet fury in his voice. “Misthaven has been overtaken by the Evil Queen.”

Liam’s words, while said under a calm façade, absolutely knock the breath out of Emma. She staggers back, suddenly finding it hard to breathe, her vision blurring.

Oh God. Oh God.

“Are you certain?” Next to her, Belle is speaking frantically, but Emma barely hears it.

Then Killian speaks, his voice strained and it’s enough to break Emma out of her daze. “I’m afraid so, lass.”

“The King and Queen,” Emma says suddenly, through gritted teeth and the other three glance up at her in surprise. “Are the King and Queen, the royal family, are they still-“Her voice cracks and a shudder wracks through her. “Are they still alive?”

“We-we don’t know,” Killian answers slowly, his eyes narrowed in confusion. “They are nowhere to be found, apparently, they might have gone into hiding…“

And then the dam breaks.

Suddenly there’s a crash, and then chairs and tables are upturned, decorations hanging from the ceilings are shattered and the shelves shake ominously, books falling to the floor.

Belle lets out a little shriek, Liam stumbles back, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword.

Killian, astonishingly enough (when will he stop surprising her?) takes a step forward. “Emma, what’s wrong?”

Emma clasps her hands together desperately, as if that will stop her magic from going out of control and her gaze darts around, flitting from Belle’s fearful eyes to Liam’s distrustful ones and back to Killian again, to the gentleness in his face and she breaks and for the first time in a decade, she feels like she might break down into sobs then and there.

“I can’t-“ she chokes out because it’s hard to breathe and her family might be dead and-

And then Emma does what she does best, and runs.

When Emma runs out of the room, leaving chaos in her wake, Killian hesitates only for a moment before following, ignoring Liam’s calls, faintly hearing the sounds of him and Belle arguing as he moves further away from the library.

“He can’t, she’s dangerous , she might do something-”

“No, she isn’t. Not to him, at least. Let him go to her, Liam.”

Killian finds Emma soon enough, huddled in a stairwell, her skirt hiked up as she hugs her knees to her chest, her body shaking uncontrollably.

Killian’s heart hurts at the sight.

“Oh, Emma.”

She glances up sharply and then shakes her head fervently as he comes closer. “No, don’t. Don’t. I might hurt you, Killian, you can’t-“

“You won’t hurt me,” Killian insists, kneeling down before her. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“ Damnit Killian-“

“I mean it,” Killian says. “I could never be afraid of you, love.”

Emma actually shrinks away at the endearment and Killian’s heart sinks, but he plows on.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

Emma remains silent for a long time, stubbornly picking at the hem of her skirt before she finally gives in.

“I told you my name was Emma, when we met,” she begins haltingly and Killian frowns, confused, but doesn’t interrupt. “That was the truth, but I also didn’t tell you something else. I’m actuallyPrincess Emma, daughter of Queen Snow White and King David.”

Killian’s jaw drops as he struggles to process the information.

Bloody hell.

“I-everyone thought the princess was dead,” He splutters out. Emma lets out a harsh, humorless laugh that makes him wince.

“As you can see, the truth is far worse,” She mutters and Killian wants to refute it, tell her she’s wrong, but Emma continues.

“Nobody knows the truth. Not even my parents.”

“What happened, love?” Killian asks, almost dreading the answer.

Emma sighs and averts her gaze. “It was Rumplestiltskin,” she murmurs. “The previous Dark One. He tricked me into thinking he killed my little brother Leo.

“There is a powerful dagger that can control the Dark One. It is also the only object capable of killing the Dark One. I knew that at the time…I just didn’t know that whoever kills the Dark One is next in line.”

“And you killed him to get revenge,” Killian guesses. He hurts for her, wants nothing more than to take her in his arms and comfort her, but knows she will never allow it. He settles for simply reaching for her hand, not taking it in hers, but simply drawing soothing circles over the skin.

Emma gazes at the movement of his fingers, seemingly fascinated before answering. “Yeah. And the rest, as they say, is history.”

“I’m sorry,” Killian whispers. “You shouldn’t have had to go through that. No one should.”

Emma nods. “If my family is dead-” she begins.

“They aren’t,” Killian says firmly. Emma laughs bitterly.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Call it hope. Or optimism. Or something.”

“You sound like my mother.”

“A wise woman, to be sure.”

Emma laughs again, but this time it’s not forced, and it’s like music to Killian’s ears.

“Our army is preparing for battle,” He says presently. “We leave at dawn tomorrow.”

“I’ll fight with you,” Emma says immediately and Killian smiles.

“I’d expect no less, love.”

He almost says my love and holds himself back at the last moment, instead giving her a last smile before he goes back to the library to explain things to Liam and Belle.

And hopes selfishly, for a day when he might be allowed to call her his.

“Rest up well,” Liam tells Killian as they exit the Council Room that evening. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

Killian acquiesces with a nod. Liam had softened a bit after hearing Emma’s story and did not hold the incident in the library against her, much to Killian’s relief. They went to the Council Room to discuss battle plans after that, and two hours later, are finally done.

After wishing his brother good night, Killian heads straight to Emma’s chambers, not even hesitating before he knocks. Emma opens the door, and his heart practically stops at the sight of her. She’s wearing a silvery dress that clings to her figure, the sleeves belling out elegantly and her hair is braided loosely, draped over her shoulder.

 “Eyes up here,” Emma teases when he takes a little too long to recover and Killian coughs, embarrassed.

“Sorry, love.”

“No problem. Was there something you needed?”

“Actually yes,” He extends his hand to her. “If you would come with me, there’s something I’d like to show you.”

Emma raises a brow at this but agrees readily enough.

“You know, if you just told me where we’re going, I could easily poof us there,” Emma says as Killian leads his mare out of her stall. He chuckles.

“Call me old fashioned, but I prefer this method of travel better,” Killian teases and Emma huffs. “Trust me, you’ll enjoy it,” He continues. “Shall we?”

Emma hoists herself up behind him and he can hear the smile in her voice when she speaks. “Lead the way, then.”

They ride away and to a meadow Killian had discovered a few years ago blooming with middlemist roses. Emma lets out an audible gasp when they arrive and dismounts from the horse, looking around in wonder. Killian grins in triumph.

“ Wow . Killian, this is-it’s beautiful ,” she says, awed. “It doesn’t look quite real.”

“There’s still beauty in the world, Emma,” Killian says. He takes her hand in his, interlacing their fingers together as he leads her out into the field. “All you have to do is look for it.”

Emma smiles at him gratefully. “Thank you. For bringing me here, I mean.”

“You’re most welcome,” Killian bends to pluck a flower and moves closer to Emma, tenderly tucking it behind her ear. Her cheeks flush, the same pale pink of the middlemist rose. “ Lovely ,” He murmurs, gently stroking her face; her eyes falling half-shut at the caress.

They remain there in silence for a while, standing far closer than is appropriate and Killian takes Emma’s hand again.

“I’m afraid,” she says suddenly and Killian glances down at her, his brow creasing in confusion.

“Of what?”

“Of facing my parents,” Emma says softly, barely a whisper. “I don’t want them to see what I’ve turned into. A monster .”

Killian flinches at the self loathing in her voice and squeezes her hand tighter. “You’re not a monster, Emma.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t know. The things I’ve done, Killian-“

“I don’t need to know,” he says firmly. “I see you . The woman who saved my brother when he lay at death’s door. Who healed my wound without a second’s thought in the forest. Who saved me from the Black Knight that tried to kill me.”

When Emma says nothing, Killian continues, determined to get her to see what he does. “After all of that, how could you call yourself a monster? You’re not. And your family will see that, too.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because they’re your family and they’ll always love you, no matter what you’ve done.”

Emma meets his gaze, tilting her head to one side. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

Killian nods. “I’ve done a lot of foolish things, Emma. When Milah died, I was consumed by rage and hatred for the Evil Queen. I tried to seek revenge, but it only resulted in endangering Liam and Belle. Yet, after all that, they forgave me.”

“This is different, though.”

“It doesn’t matter. They will forgive you.”

Emma nods shakily. Suddenly, she says,

“Merlin’s spell books. I was lying to you about why I wanted them.”

“Aye, I gathered as much.”

“I’m…hoping to destroy the darkness.”

Killian looks at her in shock and she continues. “I know that the darkness was first born in Camelot, and that Merlin had something to do with it. That’s why I wanted the books.”

“Because you think he might have a way to destroy it,” Killian guesses.

“Yeah. I think I might have had a breakthrough, but there’s still a lot more to be done.”

“You’ll do it,” The conviction in his voice makes her look up at him in surprise.

“You think so?”

“I’ve yet to see you fail.”

Emma says nothing, seemingly at a loss for words. She simply holds his gaze, her green eyes brighter than ever.

Then she pulls him closer, pressing their joined hands to his chest as she kisses him.

Killian stills in shock for a moment, before closing his eyes and responding in kind. The kiss is sweet and tender, tasting like gratitude and affection. Emma sweeps her tongue over his lips and he lets out a soft sigh of pleasure, opening for her.

When they have to part for breath, Killian moves to kiss her cheeks, the curve of her jaw, the hollow of her throat. He can’t get enough of her, Killian thinks, as he presses an open mouthed kiss to her pulse point, teeth scraping over skin. Emma lets out a little, keening moan at his ministrations and drags him up to kiss her again.

“ Emma ,” Killian murmurs against her lips. If there was any doubt before, it has all vanished. He knows what this is. “Emma, I-“

“Shh,” she interrupts, cutting him off with a kiss. Killian groans against her mouth, cradling the back of her head as he pulls her into him.

“ Later ,” Emma promises, pressing a kiss against his jaw. Killian struggles for a moment before giving in.

“Fine. Later, then.”

The next day, they prepare to leave Camelot by the early light of dawn.

Belle is to remain behind, and Emma watches from the sidelines as she says goodbye to Liam and Killian. Belle hugs Killian fiercely, murmuring something in his ear that makes him flush in embarrassment before releasing him. Emma idly wonders what it is. She doesn’t feel jealous, knowing quite well that Belle has eyes only for the older of the brothers and even if she didn’t, from what happened the previous night, Emma has it on pretty good authority that Killian’s feelings for herself go way beyond platonic.

“ Emma, I- ”

There was no doubting as to what he was going to say. It scares Emma, but also leaves her with unspeakable joy, warmth flooding her at the thought that Killian is capable of loving her despite what she is.

But there are more important things to worry about.

Like the war. And the Evil Queen. And her family.

A low murmur ripples through the air and Emma glances up to see that Belle has shocked the entire crowd waiting to see them off, and the army, by pulling Liam into a fervent kiss. Emma can’t help but grin at the sight.

Liam seems just as shocked, but returns it with equal fervor.

Killian is grinning like the Cheshire Cat at the sight.

Then they ride away from Camelot, the mood becoming somber once more at the reminder of the grim battle ahead.

Misthaven is in chaos.

Now that the Evil Queen has taken over the castle, the common people don’t seem to be satisfied with sitting back and waiting for the battle to be over. They have joined it, instead, fighting against the Queen’s knights ruthlessly, wielding pitchforks and axes. Although the Black Knights are well versed in combat as compared to the peasants, they are hopelessly outnumbered.

The army of Camelot waits at the border, awaiting Liam’s orders.

“It’s clear that the Queen has employed most of her army in eliminating the rogue warriors outside the castle,” Killian begins.

“Which means the castle will be left unprotected,” Emma finishes. “We can sneak in, rescue my parents and take the Queen by surprise. The rest of the soldiers can take out her army, so she’ll be left defenseless. ”

“Except for her magic,” Liam points out.

“I think you’re forgetting that you have an extremely powerful sorceress on your side,” Emma says dryly. “Leave Regina to me. I’ll deal with her. She has a lot to answer for.”

Yes, you can finally kill her , the darkness suggests.

No one’s killing anyone, Emma retorts inwardly. Get out of my head.

And much to her astonishment, the darkness retreats.

Emma doesn’t dwell on it, returning to the discussion. “There are underground passages that lead into the dungeons. I can guide you through them. Regina has most likely imprisoned my family there.”

Liam thinks it over for a minute before nodding. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll go give the soldiers their orders.”

He walks away and Emma is about to follow, but is stopped by Killian.

“Wait, love.”

“What is it?”

In response, Killian tugs a chain over his head, one that she hasn’t noticed before, except for the previous night, because it’s always hidden beneath his clothes. There’s a beautiful ring attached to it, silver with a crimson stone set in the metal. Emma’s breath catches.

“You’re not gonna get down on one knee, are you?” she jokes weakly. Killian doesn’t smile, looking solemn.

“This ring belonged to Liam,” He begins. “Given to him by our father. Liam gave it to me when he became King. It’s what’s kept me alive, all these years.”

Emma glances up at him sharply.

Killian presses it into her palm, curling her fingers over it. “I want you to have it, love.”

“I can’t die today, Killian,” Emma says gently. “I’m immortal.”

Killian exhales. “The Dark One is immortal. But the strong, brave lass I know- you aren’t. Keep it, Emma.”

“What will protect you, then?” Emma asks.

Killian grins at her. “I have you by my side, love. What more protection do I need?”

Overcome by emotion, Emma leans into him, pressing her forehead to his, shutting her eyes. In a few minutes, they go into battle, to face possible death.

But for now, they can have this.

I love you , Emma thinks, but doesn’t dare to say it aloud.

The underground passage leading to the dungeons is exactly as Emma remembers and she guides Liam and Killian through the twisting, maze-like pathways with little difficulty. There are a few of the Queen’s guards stationed there, much to their surprise, but Emma makes short work of them, knocking them unconscious with her magic.

Liam looks impressed. “Nice work, milady.”

Emma nods in thanks and hides a grin. Liam’s opinion of her has bettered considerably and she can’t say she’s disliking it too much.

Everything abruptly goes to hell then, as the sound of running reaches their ears and before they can react, or do anything, a dark haired man rounds the corner, catching hold of Killian and holding a knife to his throat.

“Killian!” Liam draws his sword, but the man presses the knife hard enough to draw blood.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warns. Emma snarls wordlessly, raising her hand to dispose of him, when something makes her pause.

The man looks strangely familiar, his defiant glare and the blue of his eyes tugging at a long lost memory.

Then he looks at her and lets out a cry.

“Emma?!”

And that’s when Emma instantly knows.

“Leo?” she croaks out, her eyes watering. Leo promptly lets go of Killian and runs to her, embracing her tightly. Tears flow down Emma’s cheeks as she hugs him back. It’s her little brother, who’s all grown up now.

“Gods, Emma,” he mutters into her hair. “We thought you were dead.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Leo pulls back to take a good look at her. “What happened to you, Emma?”

Terror seizes her, she knows that this is the moment of truth. But there’s no point lying now. She can’t .

“Because they’re your family and they’ll always love you, no matter what you’ve done.”

The memory of Killian’s words gives her a boost of courage and she swallows before answering.

“I turned into the Dark One,” Emma says steadily. “Rumplestiltskin, he tricked me into thinking he murdered you and I-“

“Oh, Emma.”

And then Leo is hugging her once more and Emma cries again, because Killian was right and he doesn’t hate her, and-

“You’re all grown up now,” Emma says with a half laugh, half sob. Leo snorts, drawing away.

“It’s been ten years, sis.” he glances at Killian and Liam and frowns. “But who are they?”

The brothers, who had been watching the reunion in silence (Killian smiling proudly all through it) look at each other before Liam answers.

“I’m King Liam of Camelot. And this is Killian, my brother.”

Leo’s eyes widen and he lets out a sheepish laugh. “Oh, you’re our allies. My apologies, I thought you were part of the Queen’s army.”

“Speaking of,” Emma says anxiously. “Where are Mom and Dad?”

Leo sobers. “Regina captured them. I managed to get away, thankfully, and I’m here looking for them.”

“So are we.”

“There are more Black Knights stationed further in the dungeons, guarding them.”

“Not a problem,” Emma says, her eyes hard. “I can take them out. Are there any more in the castle?”

“Yeah, but not many,” Leo replies.

Emma nods and turns to Killian and Liam. “You two should go take care of the rest of the knights. Leo and I will find my parents and after that, I’ll go face Regina.”

Killian looks upset at the idea. “Emma-”

“ Please ,” Emma says quietly. “This is something I have to do.”

Killian holds her gaze for a long moment before nodding. “Alright.”

“Let’s be off then,” Liam says. “You stay safe, milady.”

Emma grins and nods. But before they go, Killian hastily turns to pull her into a lingering kiss. Forgetting about their audience, Emma clings to him desperately, tears burning at her eyes.

“Come home to me,” she murmurs against his lips when they part.

It’s not quite an I love you , but it will do for now.

“I will.” Killian vows.

And like that, he’s gone.

“What was all of that about?” Leo demands as they run further into the dungeons.

“Shut up,” is all Emma says, but she’s smiling, clutching at the chain around her neck.

The Black Knights guarding the cell Emma’s parents are trapped in barely get a warning before she knocks them unconscious with a blast of her magic. Leo whistles, impressed.

Snow and David come running to the bars and when they see Emma, expressions of pure shock appear on their faces.

“ Emma? ” Snow breathes, as if barely able to believe what she’s seeing.

Emma melts the bars with a wave of her hand and then she’s running into her parents arms, the tears coming back in full force as her mother tackles her into a bear hug and her father cradles the back of her head, kissing her forehead tenderly. Leo joins the embrace, slinging his arm over Emma’s shoulders.

“We thought you were dead,” David whispers brokenly. Emma nods guiltily.

“I’m so sorry,” she says and then recounts her tale again.

When Emma finishes, her parents are crying as they pull her to them again.

“We’re so sorry we weren’t there for you, Emma,” Snow murmurs, clinging to her daughter like she might disappear any moment.

Emma shakes her head. “It was my fault for not seeking you out before. I just-“ her voice breaks. “I was so afraid that you’d despise me,” she confesses.

Snow cups her cheeks in her hands. “Emma, you are our daughter,” she says firmly. “Never think for a moment that we do not love you.”

When their tears have been dried, David finally asks,

“Did you come here by yourself?”

“No, she came with Camelot’s army,” Leo says wryly.

“Camelot?” Snow questions. “I know they’re our allies, but how on earth did you get affiliated with them?”

“It’s a long story,” Emma says quickly. “We really don’t have the time-“

“You could at least tell them that you’re engaged,” Leo butts in. Emma splutters and David’s face turns purple.

“Engaged?!” He demands, outraged. Emma tosses her brother a furious glare.

“We’re not engaged! Where did you even get that idea?”

“What’s the ring around your neck for, then?”

“What it is , is none of your business,” Emma retorts smartly. “Killian-“

Snow gasps loudly. “ Killian ? The Prince of Camelot is courting you?”

“We’re not courting,” Emma says defensively. “And anyway, don’t we have more important things to discuss right now? Like ending this war once and for all?”

Her parents sober up instantly at that. “Right, of course,” David says. “What’s your plan, Emma?”

“I’m going up against Regina,” Before they can protest, Emma holds up a hand. “I’m not taking no for an answer. We all know that I’m the only one capable of facing her right now.”

“We can be back up,” Snow argues, but Emma disagrees.

“Liam and Killian will need help with the rest of the Black Knights. You three can to that. I’m facing Regina alone.”

Snow and David clearly realize that there’s no point arguing with her, and sigh and relent.

“Be careful,” David says softly.

Emma smiles. “Always am.”

“That’s all, I think,” Killian says as he pulls his sword out of the body of the last knight, grimacing at the blood that coats the steel. Next to him, Liam nods, exhausted.

“Aye. What now?”

Before Killian can reply, they hear the sound of footsteps and swing around. A tall woman with steel grey hair, dressed in black, with a wicked smirk on her face strides into the hallway.

The Evil Queen.

“You,” Killian snarls and Liam holds him back, just barely.

“Hello, little prince,” Regina mocks, but her smile disappears when she sees Liam, angry confusion replacing it. “How are you-you should be dead-”

“Unfortunately for you, I’m not,” Liam says with a grim smile. “Perhaps this time you’ll fight fair, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, how naïve of you,” Regina practically purrs. “I never fight fair.”

Before Liam can blink, she snaps her fingers and suddenly he is bound by an invisible force, unable to budge an inch. Regina moves towards Killian swiftly and plunges her hand into his chest. He lets out a cry of pain, his head slumping forward.

“No!” Liam shouts in panic, desperately fighting against his bonds.

But before Regina can rip Killian’s heart out, a shockwave of magic pulses through the room and the Queen is thrown to the floor. Killian gasps in relief, clutching at his chest and then looks upwards.

It’s Emma.

She walks towards Regina, eyes black with anger, the air around her crackling with magic, looking like an avenging angel ready to destroy whatever stands in her path.

Regina looks up at her, eyes narrowing in uncertainty. “Who are-”

“You should’ve done your research first, Regina,” Emma says coldly. “Then maybe you would’ve known better than to touch what is mine .”

The possessiveness of her tone sends a sharp thrill through Killian.

Regina stands up, studying her carefully. “You’re the Dark One, aren’t you? Rumple-”

“I killed him, ten years ago.”

“Who are you?”

Emma bares her teeth. “Guess.”

Recognition dawns over Regina. “You’re Snow’s daughter, aren’t you,” her face twists in a sneer. “Well, well. I do wonder how your mother took the news of her daughter going dark.”

Emma ignores her taunts. “I’m not here to talk, Regina. I’m here to defeat you, so let’s get on with it.”

Regina snorts. “Please. You might be the Dark One but I can tell you never bothered training your magic. You’re no match for me.”

“Well then, let’s test that theory, shall we?”

Without further warning, Emma draws back her hands and emits twin bolts of grey light, sending them straight towards Regina. The older woman stumbles back, but quickly regains her footing, conjuring fireballs to throw at Emma.

Emma dodges them nimbly, the last one singeing her hair, but she barely flinches at it, attacking again.

The fight continues like this for what seem like hours to Killian but in reality are only a few minutes. Regina begins to get visibly tired, her earlier boasts falling flat as the Dark One’s magic proves to be superior to hers. Hope flares brightly in Killian’s chest, thinking that they might win.

But he thought too soon.

“You’re good, Dark One,” Regina sneers between pants. “But you made a mistake.”

Emma raises a brow.

“You revealed your weakness.”

And before Emma can do anything, Regina swings around, and sends a greenish-black bolt of magic towards Killian. It hits him squarely in the chest and he collapses to the ground.

The last sounds he hears are Emma and Liam’s panicked voices calling his name before everything fades to darkness.

“No! What have you done?!”

Emma gazes at Killian’s unmoving body in horror. Her magic threatens to fly out of control again, pure fear coursing through her veins.

Regina chuckles and thrusts her hand out and suddenly, Emma crashes into the wall. She slumps down on the floor, raising her hand gingerly to the blood that flows down her forehead.

“I may not be able to kill you, but I can at least incapacitate you,” Regina says, stalking over to Emma. At that moment, Snow and David enter the scene, but neither women notice them.

Emma pushes herself up with some difficulty. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Regina,” She waves her hand and blasts her back, and before the Queen can stand again, restrains her with magic.

“You can’t run now,” Emma snarls, towering over the woman.

Regina laughs mockingly. “Are you going to kill me?”

Yes, the darkness insists. Make her suffer for all that she has done.

“Your parents will despise you, you know,” Regina continues. “They do so hate the idea of killing. And you’re the exact same. Dark One or not, you won’t do it.”

Do it, the darkness commands, it’s voice rising to a high shriek. Don’t go back to being nothing .

“You’re nothing,” Regina hisses. “You’ll never be able to protect them. Any of them.”

Something in Emma snaps. The weight of the ring against her chest burns and all the memories of being too weak to fight the darkness, of losing control wash over her, and-

“I am not nothing!” Emma growls , her hands clenching into fists until her knuckles turn white. “I was never nothing! I don’t need to kill you to prove a point. I will never turn into what you are. I amstronger than you ever will be!”

Emma reaches into her pocket and pulls out a black leather cuff. Regina glances at it, and her eyes widen in fear.

“I won’t kill you,” Emma says. “But I will make sure you never hurt anyone again.”

And in a swift motion, she clamps the cuff over Regina’s wrist.

Abruptly, the magic holding Liam down vanishes and he stumbles forward. Emma backs away from Regina and into the arms of her parents and Leo.

“You did it, Emma,” Snow praises. “Oh, we’re so proud of you.”

Emma gives her a weak, watery smile and then glances at Killian, her eyes widening. She runs to him, kneeling beside his prone form.

“What’s going on?” Emma looks up frantically at Liam’s stricken face. “All of Regina’s spells were cancelled, he should’ve woken up, too.”

She reaches over to feel his pulse and it’s like a punch to the gut when there’s nothing.

“ No,” Emma whispers. Behind her, her parents are murmuring sympathies, but she ignores it, shaking him desperately.

“Killian, please,” she begs. “Please, come back to me.”

“Can’t you do anything?” Liam demands, his voice shaking. “Your magic-”

“I don’t even know what’s wrong with him.” Emma says brokenly.

There’s a terrible pain eating at her heart, so dreadful, that Emma can barely hold herself up, slumped over Killian’s body; her breaths coming out in heaving pants.

She never told him she loved him .

The thought just sends a fresh wave of agony through her and Emma sobs like she never has before, clutching at the lapels of his coat as she begs him to come back to her.

“I love you,” Emma whispers and as a last, desperate resort, she presses her lips to his.

For a moment, nothing happens.

Then a wave of pure love rushes through her, nearly knocking her over. Emma barely has the time to register to startled gasps of the others before her vision turns a dazzling white, light magic swirling around her.

When she opens her eyes again, the darkness is gone and Killian wakes with a gasp.

It’s a flood of warmth and magic that jerks Killian into wakefulness, his eyes flying open as he gasps for breath. He sees Emma immediately and lets out a low cry of surprise.

The silver of her hair has turned to gold, silky waves that spill down her shoulders and chest. The black dress she’d worn previously has transformed into garments of pure white.

She looks like an angel .

“Emma,” Killian breathes, reaching up to cup her cheek. She lets out a little, relieved cry, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“Killian,” Emma says. “I-I thought you were-”

“I’m fine, darling,” He reassures her immediately. “I didn’t mean to make you worry,” Killian sits up, gazing at her in wonder. “Wha-What happened?”

Emma looks down at herself, then, as if not having noticed her transformation before. Her voice shakes when she speaks.

“The darkness,” Emma whispers in awe. “It’s gone .”

“Gone?” Killian repeats. “How?”

“True Love’s kiss,” Emma realizes. “When I kissed you, it broke the curse, and-”

The breath flies out of Killian’s lungs. “True love?” he croaks.

Emma meets his gaze and smiles, gently brushing her knuckles over his cheek. “I love you,” she says simply. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, I-”

Killian doesn’t let her finish, pulling her into her arms, burying his face in her hair. “I love you, too,” He says, his voice muffled. “And you have nothing to apologize for, my love.”

Emma wraps her arms around him tightly, holding to him as if she fears he’ll disappear any moment. “I didn’t need Merlin’s help to defeat the darkness, in the end,” she says, sounding awed. “I didn’t even need Excalibur. All I needed to do was open my heart to love.”

Killian chuckles, drawing away. “I told you you’d do it, Emma.”

Emma laughs, a pure, delighted sound before she pulls him into a kiss. And this time, when Killian kisses her, it feels like coming home and the darkness and walls which separated them have finally been vanquished.

When she releases him, Liam embraces him, calling him a ‘bloody idiot’ and ordering him to never nearly get himself killed like that again.

(“I’m the King, you know. You have to obey my orders.” “Whatever you say, brother.”)

Emma is in the arms of her family, all of them laughing and crying at the same time as they cling to each other. Snow then moves to hug Killian and Liam, thanking them profusely for their help. David shakes Killian’s hand, thanking him gruffly for ridding Emma of the darkness. In the background, Leo elbows Emma slyly and she scowls at him in response.

When Camelot’s army comes back, victorious and Regina is locked away in the dungeons, Emma turns to Killian, grinning brightly.

“I’m glad I met you, Killian,” she says, brushing her lips against the corner of his mouth. Killian turns so he can kiss her properly, relishing in the sound of her pleased moan when his tongue slides over hers.

He breaks away, and rests his forehead against hers.

“I’m glad I met you, too, love.”

When she was younger, Ingrid had been her foster mother, caring for her as a teenager. But as with most teenagers, Emma had a problem with authority and ran away from Ingrid’s home. She went out on her own, eventually tracking down bail jumpers to make ends meet. It was fine until one in particular busted her arm. She still got her bounty but decided it may be a good time to try something different, and since she was so good at finding people, she decided to find Ingrid.

Her former foster mother had moved to a small town in Maine and opened a store specializing in homemade ice cream made on site. At first, she seemed surprised to see Emma, but quickly gave her a smile and a hug. The next thing Emma knew she was whipping up cream and sugar and whatever else Ingrid had decided to try for customers.

The store sold ice cream staples: chocolate, vanilla, cookies and cream. But it was really known for its more unusual or fun flavors, which brought people in from all over Maine. They were one of the first stores in the state to make cake batter ice cream from scratch, and Emma’s frozen hot chocolate ice cream was a favorite. She often encouraged customers to add a little shake of cinnamon from their toppings bar.

This month, Ingrid had encouraged Emma to come up with some good fall flavors. She whipped up the perfect batches of pumpkin spice ice cream and candied pecan ice cream. She also found some amazing apples at the local orchard and used them to create an amazing apple cider ice cream. It was just like drinking the real thing.

“This is the best one you’ve ever made,” Ingrid said when Emma finally let her try the recipe.

They quickly sold out of the first few batches, including a few gallons that Granny ordered for the diner.

Granny was one of their best customers, always putting in an order for gallons of vanilla ice cream to go along with her pies. The unique flavors were also a hit with customers who got a scoop included as part of the dinner special.

Emma’s feet crunched on the dry leaves in Granny’s courtyard, which made her smile. She swung the door open and walked in, taking a quick look at what the miners sitting at the counter were eating for lunch. Lots of lasagna, a few grilled cheeses, and Leroy’s heaping bowl of orange sherbert. He was definitely their best customer.

She headed back to the kitchen window where Granny was placing orders with the kitchen staff.

“Thank God you’re here,” she told Emma. “We just ran out of vanilla. I thought a cupcake/ice cream combo would be a hit, but it was way too popular at lunch today.”

Emma gave her a perplexed look. “What kind of combo?” she asked.

“Delicious cupcakes with ice cream, Swan! In fact, I’m here to drop off a new batch myself.”

Emma scowled. She recognized that voice and was not surprised when she turned to see its owner leaning against the counter with a smug grin on his face next to Granny’s cake plate stocked full of cupcakes.

Killian Jones.

She had no idea why the cupcake store owner insisted on wearing all black. It seemed so impractical for a cake maker who was constantly around flour and sugar, but he made it look effortless. Emma was always picking sugar out of her hair or cleaning spilled cream off her clothes. His clothes were immaculate and made her mouth water.

She would never tell him that second part. Because honestly, everyone knew that man was gorgeous. But not everyone recognized the feud there was between Any Given Sundae and The Jolly Cupcake. Hell, even Ingrid thought Emma’s belief that The Jolly Cupcake was a rival was overblown.

“Sweet treats can co-exist in this town,” Ingrid once told her. “I don’t know why you have such a grudge against one of them.”

Because one of them was run by an infuriating man. He was gorgeous and successful and, dammit, his cupcakes were amazing. His flavors were special and perfectly balanced between the cake and the icing. It was annoying.

He was annoying.

Emma gave the smiling baker a once over and sighed. “Jones.”

“What did you bring with you today, Swan?” He swaggered over and pushed into her personal space. “I do hope it’s deletable.”

Emma just rolled her eyes. “Of course, it is. I made it.” Her eyes darted over to the cake plate on the counter. “What about you?”

“Delightful as always,” he said with a wicked smile. “Would you like to try a maple brown sugar cupcake? Or perhaps a dark chocolate one with cinnamon icing? I hear it’s a favorite of yours.”

Emma’s mouth was watering from the cupcakes and Killian’s voice was heating up other parts of her body. Dammit, why did a rival who pressed her buttons have to be so delicious as he did it?

“They sound fine.”

Emma grabbed the empty cooler sitting in the pick-up window from the kitchen and started to head out.

“I thought we were sharing, lass?” Killian asked as she walked by. “What new concoction did you whip up?”

“Ice cream,” she yelled back.

“Sounds tasty! I can’t wait to lick it up!”

Emma was thankful to hear the door close behind her as she pushed her way into the chilled fall day outside. She needed a little air to cool off after that meeting with Killian.

Of course, she was going to go back to Granny’s and try that chocolate cupcake with cinnamon icing. What kind of person wouldn’t want that? But there was no way in hell she was ever going to tell Killian she did it. Just like there was no way she was ever going to tell him about her taste tests of several other flavors she quietly snuck out of Granny’s Diner over the past few months. It would be better to not inflate his ego anymore than it already was.

xxx

Apparently, today was not Emma’s day. As soon as she got back to the store, Ingrid sent her out on another ice cream run, this time to Hansel and Gretel’s candy shop. She had no problem with the brother-and-sister duo, probably because neither of them was as infuriatingly attractive as Killian Jones.

Which is why she was so frustrated when she ran into him – literally – as she was leaving the candy shop.

“Careful with the cupcakes, Swan. You wouldn’t want to smash my treats.” He leaned in and gave her a wicked grin. “Or perhaps you would.”

Emma rolled her eyes. Infuriating.

(Also, she wouldn’t mind smashing his treats. Also, that made her frustrated. Again.)

But there was one place where she could really throw him off his game: The Rabbit Hole.

Emma smiled as the bar’s owner, Liam Jones, poured his creamy concoction into two glasses, adding straws to both of them.

“OK, let me know what you think of that,” he said as he grabbed his own off the bar.

It only took a few sips before Emma moaned in delight. “This is amazing, Liam.”

“Hey!”

Emma smiled. Once again, she recognized the voice. “Hey, Killian. What’s up?”

He put down a large white baker’s box on the bar and pulled the bar stool out from right next to her. “Don’t ‘what’s up’ me, Swan. What are you doing here?”

“Just drinking.”

Her lips curled dramatically around the straw again and she took another drink. She could tell it had the effect she wanted on Killian. His eyes trailed down to her mouth, his jaw did that thing where he flexed it whenever he was tense. She could play this game all night.

“Here, try this, brother.”

Liam put a glass down in front of Killian and poured some more of his experiment into it. Killian gave the glass an odd look and then did as he was told, his long lashes fluttering shut as he drank.

“Bloody hell,” he finally said. “What is that?”

“An apple pie. It’s apple cider ice cream from Any Given Sundae mixed with vanilla vodka. It’s great, right?”

Killian’s ecstacy turned into a scowl as he looked at Emma. “Are you turning my brother against me now?”

She just shrugged. “I saw a business opportunity.”

She leaned over and drank more, keeping her eyes focused on Killian as his did that thing where they lingered on her lips again. Was this really what their relationship had come to? Trading jabs over ice cream cocktails at a bar?

And yet, after the day Emma had, she didn’t mind it. She liked teasing him like this. In fact, she liked alot of things about him. She liked the way he responded to her teasing. She liked the way he smiled at her comebacks. She was definitely impressed with how he looked in that black outfit of his, no matter how infuriating it was that he could keep it so clean.

Killian finally cleared his throat to gain some composure. “Well, if you want to talk business, Swan.”

He gave her one his trademark eyebrow raises and reached over to the box next to him. He lifted the lid just high enough for Emma to see all the cupcakes inside. They all looked amazing. Killian’s decorating skills were ridiculous. Then he set a dark cupcake down in front of her.

“Winter ale cupcake with a stout frosting. Tell me what you think.”

“Really?” she asked skeptically.

He seemed undeterred, giving her a warm smile in return. “Go ahead, and be brutally honest. I know you won’t hold back.”

“And not to sway you one way or another,” Liam said. “But we sold out of yesterday’s batch in an hour.”

She looked at the bartender, who simply smiled and grabbed the box of cupcakes off the bar and took them to the back. Emma turned to the cupcake, pulling the wrapper down to expose the moist cake inside. It looked amazing – fluffy and light with just the right amount of frosting. Some cupcake makers added too much frosting, but Killian had a knack for getting the right balance. Dammit again, it was so annoying that he was so good at this. And he opened the shop only six months ago! Crazy prodigy baker always dressed in black.

She stared at the cupcake a bit longer and then finally took a bite. Damn, it was good. Great flavors that weren’t overwhelming. The frosting and cake complimenting each other so well. If she wasn’t being watched, she would’ve quickly stuffed the rest of it in her mouth at once.

But she was being watched. She couldn’t see his eyes – she was still staring at the cupcake. But she could feel his glare. He was anticipating her response. Because for as much as they teased each other, as much as they were at odds – whether true or exaggerated – there was a mutual respect between them when it came to their crafts. Emma could give him some snarky comment in response, or she could just tell the truth.

She looked up to see him staring at her in anticipation. She couldn’t tease him about these.

“This is amazing.”

His face broke out into a huge smile. “Be honest, Swan. Do you really like them?”

She rolled her eyes. “It pains me to say it, but I honestly do.”

“Better or worse than the chocolate with the cinnamon frosting?”

“Couldn’t tell you. Never had one of those.”

She took another bite, the cake and frosting melting together in her mouth.

“That’s a lie,” Killian teased. “Granny said you bought half a dozen from her.”

Emma stopped eating as she stared at the man next to her. She loved Granny dearly, but that woman sold her out and told Killian her secret. And yes, she had in fact bought out all of Granny’s inventory of the chocolate cupcakes with cinnamon frosting. They were delicious. So what?

“Emma, you’ve got some frosting…”

His voice trailed off as he motioned on his face to a spot near his lips. She swiped at the spot, but it only caused Killian to laugh at her more.

“Hold on, let me help.”

“This is your fault,” she said. “You put too much frosting on this one.”

He didn’t have to say anything. The disbelieving look on his face said it all.

“OK, fine. It had the right amount of frosting.”

“Thank you,” he said as he reached for her. “And for the record, your apple cider ice cream is mind blowing.”

She could only stare at him. Mind blowing? He thought her ice cream was mind blowing? Wow. That was… quite the compliment from the cupcake king.

He swiped at the frosting on her face, his fingers warm against her cheek. “There,” he said quietly.

But instead of pulling away, his hand pulled her closer, his breath against her face. Then he kissed her. It was warm and gentle and sweet. So sweet. The buttercream frosting from the cupcake mixed with the apple cider ice cream on his lips. It was like kissing a heaven full of fall flavors.

He pulled away slightly, an awkward smile teasing at the corners of his lips. “Sorry, lass. I don’t know what came over me.”

She shook her head, trying to clear out the fog that seemed to have settled over her brain. “Um, it’s OK. It’s fine. Well, more than fine. It was, uh… Well, this cupcake is pretty magical or whatever I guess.”

The tension in Killian’s shoulders disappeared, his swagger back but with a genuine warmth in his smile.

“I’m glad you like it.” He leaned over and took another drink from his apple pie cocktail. “This, by the way, is bloody amazing.”

“Do you like it?” she asked. “It was actually Liam’s idea. He came into our shop after he had some of our ice cream at Granny’s.”

“Liam has a knack for finding new flavors for the bar.”

Emma looked down at her half eaten cupcake and smiled. Maybe Liam wasn’t the only one who could try new flavors. Maybe it was time for Emma to try something new, starting with Killian Jones.

She turned to Killian and smiled. “So were the winter ale cupcakes Liam’s idea?”

“Of course,” he replied in a dejected tone. “And he hasn’t let me forget it.”

Killian started talking about Liam’s ideas for spiked egg nog cupcakes for Christmas and Irish Creme cupcakes for St. Patrick’s Day. He talked about the bad batches he still made on occasion that would crumble instead of stick together. Emma suggested maybe using the broken cupcakes in a vanilla base for a new ice cream flavor. Then she talked about the latest cake batter flavors they were trying for the ice cream with Killian giving her tips on different ways to mix the ingredients she was using.