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booksteaandtoomuchtv · 1 year

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Dum Spiro, Spero - CS One Shot

AO3 Killian was paralysed as he watched the yellow bug disappear over the horizon. He had always thought the sound of heartbreak was gloomy, desperate pleas, or maybe the dramatic sounds of an organ played by a tortured soul. But, as the wind stirred trees full of bright green leaves and the birds chirped joyful songs to one another, he realised the sound of heartbreak could be those of an ideal spring afternoon.

She’d always said she’d get out of this town one of these days; it had never occurred to him that Emma would do it without him. They’d been inseparable for as long as he cared to remember - the time before her was a haze of emotions that hurt to revisit and memories that seemed to have happened to someone else. Even as he helped her pack up the few items that would make the journey with her to New York, he hadn’t fully accepted that they were actually going to be separated.

When she’d gotten the opportunity to join her college roommate’s art gallery, she’d hesitated - I am not ready for this. He wouldn’t hear any of that nonsense; reminding her how incredibly talented she was and how her work thus far only proved she was absolutely ready for something exactly like this. He pulled her into his chest and kissed the top of her head. He held her, giving her comfort, until she’d pulled away, “I have to pack. I have to find a place to live. I can’t believe this. Where will I get coffee?”

He’d chuckled at her, “I bet they have coffee places in New York; it’s a big town.”

“Not with an owner who adores me enough to have my order ready before I’ve walked in and paired with a pastry that I didn’t know I needed.”

“You’ll charm one soon enough, love.”

She’d pouted at him. “Or you could take me with you,” he’d said it playfully, with a flirty smile on his face, but his heart pounded in his throat when he’d said the words. She scoffed but hadn’t answered. Instead, she’d offered him some wine to celebrate her way out of this hidden town and the subject was forgotten.

He cursed himself for never telling her how her eyes were the most beautiful shade of green he’d ever seen, how she took his breath whenever she smiled at him, how he wished he could come home to her and trade the stories of their days in person every evening while he cooked dinner (Emma was an awful cook), and how lost in love he was for her. He couldn’t tell her these things now without her assuming that he was asking her to stay, to give up her dreams, for him.

When she’d called him this morning, he hoped it was to say she’d miss him or anything other than to beg him to bring her one last perfect cup of coffee when he came over to say goodbye later.

He met her at her flat with lunch and a full thermos and helped her carry her stuff down to her tiny vehicle. He held on hope that she’d give him any indication that she was already missing him even the smallest bit, even as she carried down the last box from her flat and stuffed it in her tiny car. She blew a stray hair from her face and gave him a quick hug, “Well, wish me luck.”

“You’ll be brilliant, Swan.”

She gave him one of her small smiles, one that flirted the line between a frown and a smile, before she drove away from him. His vow to never go a day without thinking of her was drowned out by the hum of the engine; the shattering of his heart too quiet to be heard over the cheery birdsong.

§§§§

They’d talked every few days when she first moved. Days turned to weeks turned to months. They’d planned a trip for him to see her gallery and her new life. But, she’d asked him to reschedule when a big commission came in that week. She started dating a fellow artist at the gallery and stopped answering Killian’s calls. The trip never rescheduled. The months turned to years.

As time passed, Killian expected the crippling ache in his chest to lessen, but the sharp pain never dulled.

He hadn’t stopped living his life; he had a standing game night with close friends, he had expanded his coffee shop and started shipping his speciality roasts all around the Northeast, and he was mostly a kind of good. It was just that his “good” was haunted by the constant presence of her absence.

It was another one of those unbearable spring days, filled with sunlight, bird chatter, and her ghost, so he’d taken off from work at lunch. Killian started walking without a destination in mind, just a need to escape the memories threatening to catch him and swallow him whole. He walked until the sweet smell of blooming flowers was replaced by the briny scent of the sea, the crunch of gravel underfoot turned to the rich thud of steps on wood, and a torturous spring day transformed into the ideal afternoon for sailing.

He spotted his sailboat, Dum Spiro, Spero, standing proud in her mooring and smiled. His kind of good wasn’t so bad.

“Killian?” a woman’s voice called over the sound of water lapping on the hulls and piers around him. He turned with a warm smile on his face, ready to welcome Belle on his impromptu adventure. She would often join him on days like these. He suspected the sea granted her wounded heart the same serenity it gave his.

His heart tripped and his smile faltered when he did turn to find the woman who’d called his name. The ghost that had haunted him made flesh. “Swan?” his voice was thick with emotion, too quiet to carry the distance to her.

She must have heard him though because she started running toward him. He stood a moment, dumbfounded before he walked quickly toward her. She jumped into his arms and he held her tight for a moment before he returned her to her feet, “I doubted I’d ever see you again.”

“I know.”

“I called.”

“I know.”

“You didn’t.”

“I didn’t.”

The muscles in his jaw twitched as he studied her, afraid to ask but desperate to know all the answers to the questions he has held on to since their last conversation. He didn’t know where to start or what it meant that she was here, now. “Why?,” he asked, voice quiet.

“I couldn’t,” her eyes flashed with hurt and anger that he couldn’t discern. But, he knew better than to press her on it.

“Why are you here, Swan?”

Tears pricked at her eyes, the nickname seeming to break something in her. “I’ve missed home. But, I wasn’t sure how to come back.”

“Couldn’t find a map? Google didn’t have directions to Storybooke?” Killian quipped.

Emma looked away. She studied the boats around them as if they could give her words she was struggling to find. She let out a breath and looked back to Killian, “I didn’t know how to come back to you. I missed you. But, I was the one who pulled away.. how do I undo that?”

“You can’t,” Killian was interrupted by Emma’s humourless laugh. He started again, “You can’t undo it, Emma. But, maybe if I had your word that you won’t shut me out again, we can get to know each other again?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Emma flashed him a smile that fused together a few of the fissures in his heart.

“Well, Swan, join me?” he gestured to his boat, eyebrow raised in question.

Emma studied the boat. “While I breathe, I hope,” she translated as she boarded the boat behind him. “Hope for what?”

“For you, love,” Killian answered. Always for you.

#cs fanfic #captain swan #killian jones #emma swan #killian x emma #once upon a time #cs modern au ff #angst with a happy ending #this is what the muse wanted to write?#I'm sorry - I think?

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wr1tten · 3 months

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@andthe6 asked : you have no idea who i am , do you ?

𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗦𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗔 𝗕𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗘𝗟 𝗣𝗢𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗔𝗧 𝗛𝗜𝗠 — he had ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ to say. gun was 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍, ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵘʳᵉ, the 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲 was on, but it was still 𝙡𝙤𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙙. pistol had been tucked underneath her 𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 for instances like this. 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝘩𝑒𝑟 𝘩𝑜𝑚𝑒. ❝ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪ ? ❞ ᶜˡᵒᵃᵏᵉᵈ in 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, metal 𝑠𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 in his sleeve ; odd to see in the small town of storybrooke. no more 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝑖𝑡’𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑛 𝑎 𝘩𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝘩𝑒𝑟. ❝ out of all the places, you chose to come to the ꜱʜᴇʀɪꜰꜰ’ꜱ house? i suggest you leave before my ᵗʳⁱᵍᵍᵉʳ ᶠⁱⁿᵍᵉʳ slips, ❞ this stranger was acting like he 𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘥 the place. вαrɢιɴɢ ιɴ, being all ᴄᴏᴄᴋʏ. ❝ get out of my house. ɴᴏᴡ ! ❞

#andthe6 #• | muses ━ emma swan.#• | dynamics — killian jones ( feat. andthe6 ).#another curse maybe?#idk #thought it would be funnnnn

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smiletimeisrunningout · 11 months

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one of those 'nothing has prompted this except me opening new verses and I'm anxious about people thinking I'm godmodding vs me unnecessarily weakening her to make people happy' posts about Emma's fighting skills:

-princess Emma, fantasy or historical, has been exercising from age 6 to 14, then officially training from 14 to 18, then aggressively training from then on as well as, from age 18 to now (30?) going out to fight in the field, which means not only severe fighting training with both swords and hand-to-hand combat but actual field experiences, which adds the whole 'dirty fighting/knowing tricks/actually knowing what she's doing' to the potential good form that she can ditch as needed. We are talking about 24 years of general training and exercising, of which 16 were of official training, 12 of severe training and field experience.

-modern Emma was always very athletic, playing sports and exercising, but not training to fight until nearly 18 when she took on various arts. From age 20 to now (30?) she went on to properly fight, especially in verses where she goes vigilante, but in general, and therefore has 10+ years of experience plus several of more rigid training. Also, guns, but mostly hand-to-hand. So ten years of training AND field experience.

so if your muse has less experience in the field/isn't properly trained and fighting randomly/is trained but not in hand-to-hand combat/is very strong but not trained or doesn't have actual serious experience, it's unlikely they'll win against Emma. In fact, if your muse is a muscular man who gets in a fight every now and then and that's all, they will immediately lose.

Keeping in mind factors such as luck/body type and what's their training and expertise of course. I feel like it's realistic, she earned it, she's not just being Special, but I cannot stand when in shows a woman is weaker regardless of experience and training just because the man is muscular. If unsure, ask and we'll plot.

#about;#important #psa #I mean Killian Jones has 100+ years of swordfighting training so uhm he's going to win #unless she tricks him because he doesn't expect her to play dirty lmao #but when it comes to fistfighting it depends on what his mun headcanons about his training and experience?#she's not acrobatic but she can do a few things with her legs too anyway #in Turn I have NO IDEA because it also depends on people's headcanons for their muses #when it comes to their fighting regime #I've discussed it before but in Lost she's Sayid level #Sayid wins at the end but she's close second place #if you want your guy to be Stronger go to Ada lol #if your muse is one of those female characters who do fifty summersaults in air when fighting #they have a hell of an advantage regardless are you kidding #btw besides the death I will never forgive lost for having BENJAMIN LINUS WIN AGAINST ANA LUCIA #like you take a young woman who is a trained and muscular cop #and then there is ben who starts choking her and she cannot fight him??? BEN?

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aprilqueen84 · 2 years

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Did I write 2 paragraph's of a new CS Enchanted Forest AU one shot after months of nothing just randomly out of nowhere yesterday? Yes, yes I did! Fingers crossed this momentum continues!!

#captain swan #cs enchanted forest au #killian jones #emma swan #writing process #my writing #well damn #i guess my muse just needed a sudden idea and she going with it

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piraticalwit · 2 years

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lottie what the fuck.

#save ;#nothing to see here i'm just saving something that made me emo wtf #i remember those days when i was like 'oh man. a killian jones and jack sparrow bff idea would be so great'#and then our muses just said 'absolutely not'.#but i dont even care because killian has grown so much thanks to jack and your other muses #it has transcended anything i could have imagined 8 years ago lmao #you are a beautiful writer and a beautiful friend.#both are rare to find and to have two in one person is truly astounding.#you're just one of those people i am so entirely grateful for both when it comes to tumblr and just life in general #and i can't wait to see how we turn lucas and villanelle competing in the bake off undercover #into the most angst filled thing ever like spice world lmaooo

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saltyunordinaryprincess · 5 months

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( sound of Hope crying over the. baby monitor)

Killian- “ Love, I believe it’s your turn to tend to her”

Emma peeked open one eye from under her pillow, onde curls tangles across her face. It took a moment for her ears to focus on the sleep deprived voice of her sailor husband before she heard the distinct sound of their newborns cries through the crackling baby monitor. They really should upgrade from the one Regina handed down from when Henry was a baby. Maybe one of those fancy video ones she saw on Amazon last week. "'ightimup..." She yawned, pushing herself up off the mattress and sliding to the floor, her barefeet cool on the hardwood floors as she made her way to the nursery next room over.

"There there little pirate princess... what's got you all kerfuffle at this hour, hmm? You know... if you're gonna take after momma, you need to learn to love sleep..." Emma's voice came through the baby monitor followed by more baby cries and mumbles of soothing talk from Emma.

#muse: swan #(Killian Jones)

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camilish · 9 months

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Feeling like bringing another old muse of mine... he was a mix of an oc, and killian jones, but I'm leaning more into the pirate, because the oc only had sense in the old rp blog

#new muse soon?#i really miss playing this bastard lol #indie rp #ouat rp #killian jones

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malevolent-muse · 26 days

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❈🦎❈

Want more? Join the Tag List Tagged: @nephrysdarkwater-blog, @Teesee975

#ouat #once upon a time #snow white #mary margaret #david nolan #prince charming #mr. gold #rumplestiltskin #emma swan #regina mills #evil queen #killian jones #captain hook #belle french #henry mills #random polls #muse's polls

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emmasaviorswan · 1 year

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Shippy threads welcome ⚓

Need some romance/smutty-ish writing 💕

#emmasaviorswan #ouat roleplay #emma swan #ouat #ooc #open call #all the muses #all the ships #neal cassidy #Killian jones #regina mills #any for Ruby #snow for David

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jrob64 · 6 months

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Hitting a High Note - A CS Modern AU Christmas Story

Merry Christmas everyone! While looking through my library of stories, I realized I've never written a Christmas story and decided to remedy that.

Special thanks and a very Merry Christmas to my loyal beta @hookedmom who has already agreed to stick with me and my muse through the New Year.

SUMMARY: Emma Swan talks her friend Killian Jones into going Christmas caroling, but she gets more than she bargains for when she hears him sing.

Rating: G (pure Christmas fluff!)

Words: 6227 (one-shot)

Also posted to Ao3 and ffn

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Killian Jones buttoned his black pea coat, then wrapped a festive green and gold scarf around his neck. After pulling a red knit cap onto his head, he checked his reflection in the mirror above his dresser and arranged his hair so that a few strands fell artfully over his forehead.

“I can’t believe she talked me into doing this,” he grumbled under his breath, but in truth, he absolutely could believe it. Emma Swan would be able to talk him into just about anything, seeing as how he was utterly and completely in love with her.

If only he was brave enough to tell her.

It wasn’t love at first sight for him. The first time he laid eyes on her was at the end of his second week in Storybrooke. She was tucked into her boyfriend’s side at The Rabbit Hole, a local hangout. That boyfriend happened to be Walsh Osterfeld, one of the most arrogant and irritating men Killian ever had the misfortune of meeting. He made the assumption then and there that the blonde who looked happy to have Walsh’s arm wrapped around her was just as bad as him.

But you know what they say about assuming.

In the weeks following that initial introduction, Emma frequently visited the library where Killian had just begun working. It turned out she was quite the bookworm, dispelling his theory that she wasn’t very intelligent, formulated solely because of who she was dating.

Usually, Killian politely waited on her while speaking minimally, but when she checked out a book written by his favorite author, he complimented her choice. Looking up at her when he handed her the receipt, he was frozen in place by the sparkle in her emerald eyes as she gave him a rather shy smile.

“Thanks,” she replied. “My ex told me he hated this author, and since he and I ended up not having much in common, I figured it was worth giving one of these books a try.”

“Your ex, huh?” Killian couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Yeah, we recently broke up.”

“Sorry to hear that,” he mumbled, though he was not at all sorry.

“Don’t be. We dated just long enough for me to figure out he’s very annoying.”

“So, just a few minutes, then?” Killian quipped, then realized his mistake.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why would you say that?”

He felt his face heat with embarrassment as he reached up to scratch nervously behind his ear. “Oh, um, I…I saw you at The Rabbit Hole a while back and you were, uh, pretty cozy with Walsh Osterfeld. I’m not a fan of his.”

Emma looked surprised. “How do you know him?”

“When my brother was setting up his accounting office, he and I went to Osterfeld’s store in search of furniture. He tried to sell Liam the most expensive pieces on display and when Liam said he wasn’t interested, Walsh treated him like he wasn’t worth his time. I convinced Liam to leave and we hired Marco Booth to make everything he needed for half the price of what Osterfeld was asking.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Emma responded. “He treated all of my friends pretty much the same way - like they didn’t measure up to his standards. I got tired of it rather quickly.”

Killian hummed, then leaned forward to tap his finger on the cover of the book she held. “Well, I truly think you’ll like this. Hopefully, I’ll be working when you return it and you’ll be able to give me your review.”

“Chances of that are pretty good, because you seem to be here nearly every time I come in lately. You haven’t worked here long, have you?”

“Only a few weeks. My brother and I moved here after I recuperated from surgery.” He held up the prosthetic at the end of his left arm. “Liam hated living in a big city and since I no longer had a job, I decided to make the move with him. Once tax season was over in April, he quit his job at an accounting firm in Boston because he was planning to open an office here. The bonus is that Storybrooke is a harbor town. Liam and I both like being near the water.”

“How did you find out about Storybrooke? It’s a pretty obscure place.”

“Do you know August Booth?”

“Yeah, he goes to my church. Marco’s son.”

“That’s the one. He’s my brother’s friend and former college roommate. He told Liam there weren’t any accountants in this town. ”

“I’ve seen your brother’s office. I’ll probably be requiring his services on April 14th next year.”

He chuckled. “Even though he’s very good, we hope not everyone in town waits until the last day of tax season to employ him.”

“You’re good at what you do, too,” she commented.

“Well, it doesn’t take a genius to work in a library.”

“Maybe not, but it does take someone who is helpful, knowledgeable about books, and treats people with respect. I’m Emma Swan, by the way,” she said, offering him her hand.

He shook it. “Killian Jones, at your service.”

That was the beginning of their friendship. He started to look forward to her frequent visits to the library and their impromptu discussions about books and other things. He found himself telling her about the accident that cost him his hand and job in construction. He explained that with the settlement he received from workman’s compensation, combined with his savings, he was able to afford to move and take a job that, although it paid less, was far more enjoyable.

Soon, they were meeting in the mornings for coffee before she left for her job at a flower shop, and watching movies at each other’s apartment on evenings when he didn’t work. Her friends became his as they hung out together at The Rabbit Hole on the weekends, and attended the same church.

When the announcement about Christmas caroling appeared in the church bulletin, Killian didn’t give it a second thought. Singing in the shower was one thing, singing in public was quite another. But when Emma asked him to come along, explaining how much fun it was to sing to people who were shut-ins, lonely, or just needed some Christmas spirit, he caved. Now he’s a man in love with a woman who liked him only as a friend, doing something that took him way out of his comfort zone.

He had never been Christmas caroling before, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. He did know it would only be a small group of them singing though, which made him a little nervous. He felt more comfortable fading into the background in the middle of a crowd.

When he was growing up, his vagabond father moved their family often, not staying in any one place longer than a year or two. Liam took it as a challenge, making new friends and trying to fit in at every new school and neighborhood, but Killian grew more withdrawn and quiet. Even as an adult, he avoided situations which would draw attention to himself.

His phone buzzed on the dresser. Pulling himself out of his morose thoughts, he picked it up and read the message.

E: See you in 10 if you don’t chicken out.

The gif of a squawking chicken accompanying the text made him laugh. Emma had a knack for finding funny gifs and memes, which always brought a smile to his face. His thumb hit the microphone key and he spoke into his phone to record a return message.

K: I won’t chicken out as long as there are donuts & hot chocolate afterwards, as promised.

E: There better be, or I’m gonna be one cranky caroler.

After sending a laughing emoji, he stuffed the phone into the front pocket of his jeans, checked his reflection one more time, and left the small house he shared with Liam.

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Emma fluffed out her blond hair over the collar of her red winter coat and adjusted the buffalo plaid scarf around her neck. After tugging a gray beanie onto her head, she checked her reflection in the mirror, applied some tinted lip gloss, and gave herself a small nod of approval.

She felt a little guilty being so concerned with how she looked, because the idea of Christmas caroling was to make other people feel good. Besides, she was going with a group of her best friends, so it wasn’t a matter of trying to impress anyone.

Except Killian Jones.

“You are such an idiot,” she quietly admonished herself. “He’s just a friend and you’re not supposed to be looking for someone to date. Remember the promise you made to yourself after you broke up with Walsh?” she asked her reflection.

Just thinking about her ex-boyfriend made her cringe. She kicked herself many times over agreeing to go out with him. He was pompous, domineering and snobby, all things she despised in a person. Although, to be fair, she didn’t know those things when she first started dating him. They came to light gradually as she spent more time with him, leaving her with the feeling that she wasn’t a very good judge of character.

She didn’t think she was wrong about Killian, though. He was sweet, sincere, considerate and humble; any woman would be lucky to date him. Maybe she should try setting him up with someone. He was still fairly new in town, and hadn’t met all of her friends yet. Belle had just gotten out of a bad relationship, and Mary Margaret’s teacher friends, Aurora and Jasmine, weren’t seeing anyone.

She wondered if he was even interested in dating. In all the time they’d known each other, he never mentioned a significant other. Maybe he had a girlfriend back in Boston and just didn’t talk about her. Or maybe, like her, he’d been in a bad relationship and swore off dating.

Regardless, she was going to be late if she kept musing about him. Grabbing her purse off of the bed, she dug through it for her keys, then left her apartment and hurried outside to her car parked along the curb.

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Emma and Killian pulled up to the church simultaneously and parked beside each other. After unbuckling her seatbelt, she swung her car door open, got out and slammed it shut. She might love her little yellow bug, but it had some issues, such as the door popping back open if you didn’t shut it hard enough.

“Hey, Jones,” she called, walking around the back of her car to meet him. “Went with a sock hat, I see.”

“Pardon me?” he asked, puzzlement apparent on his stupidly handsome face.

“Your hat. I thought you would wear something different.”

She watched him scratch behind his ear, a habit she found quite adorable. “What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Maybe a top hat with a sprig of holly?”

“I agreed to Christmas carol, not to look like I belong in the ‘Christmas Carol’,” he replied, rolling his eyes.

Emma giggled. It seemed nobody could make her laugh more than Killian Jones, with his dry but sharp sense of humor.

“Are you ready to do this?” she asked, beginning to walk up the sidewalk to the church.

He fell into step beside her. “Uh, I guess.”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“I’ve never gone caroling before,” he admitted.

She threaded her arm through his left elbow. “Well, there’s a first time for everything. It’ll be fun, you’ll see.”

He hummed and patted her arm with his right hand. “If you say so, Swan.”

“I do.”

They entered the church lobby and saw that most of the other carolers were already there. Ashley and her husband, Shawn, Mary Margaret and David, Ruby, Belle, Elsa, Anna and her fiancé Kris, and a few other people from their church - around fifteen in all.

“We’ll be singing to eight elderly church members and then going over to a nursing home,” Mary Margaret informed them as soon as they joined the cluster of people. “Since they’re spread out all over town, we’ll need to drive from place to place. We’ve already determined who is driving and who will be in each car. The two of you will be with us in my car. David will drive.”

“Why can’t I drive?” Emma asked.

“Perhaps because we all value our lives,” Killian teased, tongue in cheek.

“Hey!” Emma protested. “I’m an excellent driver!”

“It’s not your driving skills we question, Swan. It’s that dodgy excuse for a car.”

She glared at him. “Insult my car at your own risk, Jones.”

“I just did,” he assured her.

They realized the rest of the group had started to file out of the church, so they followed along, still arguing about her car. In front of them, Mary Margaret and David shared amused looks.

Just as Emma and Killian were settling into the back seat, there was a knock on Emma’s window. She looked over to see August peering in at her. “Got room for one more?” he asked, loud enough to be heard through the glass.

“Uh, sure,” Emma said, opening the door, then sliding over to the middle of the seat. August squeezed in beside her and she scooted even closer to Killian.

“Thanks,” August said. “I lost track of the time and was afraid I would be left behind.”

“It’s good to have you with us,” David commented as he put the car in drive and followed Kris’s vehicle out of the parking lot.

“Hey, August,” Killian greeted, leaning forward to speak around Emma.

“Hey, yourself,” August smiled. “Is Liam in one of the other cars?”

“No, I invited him to come, but he’s an old Scrooge and said it was too cold. It’s probably for the best, though. He’s a terrible singer.”

Emma elbowed him sharply. “Be nice.”

“Ouch!” Killian exclaimed. “Are you trying to break a rib, Swan?”

“Stop being so dramatic. You probably didn’t even feel it through all your layers of clothes.”

He continued to rub his side. “Once you hear my brother sing, you’re going to realize I was right, and then you’ll owe me an apology for bruising me.”

“I hate to say it, but I agree with Killian on this one,” August piped up. “Liam and I were fraternity brothers at college, and hearing him sing the Alma Mater had me wishing I could transfer to another university.”

Everyone in the car began to laugh. “Poor Liam,” Mary Margaret said when it died down. “We shouldn’t be making fun of him when he’s not even here to defend himself.”

“Liam is plenty talented,” Killian said. “Just not in singing.”

“Oh, don’t forget to buckle your seatbelts,” Mary Margaret stated, ever the designated mom of the group.

Killian felt Emma’s hand reach down between their hips and brush against his butt as she searched for hers, and he leaned toward her to say, “Um, that’s not your seatbelt, Love.”

She jerked her hand away quickly and he chuckled when he saw color fill her cheeks. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Think nothing of it.” He reluctantly moved closer to the door and pulled the buckles between them free so they could fasten their belts. “Maybe someday I can return the favor,” he continued, flirtateously waggling his eyebrows at her.

As he expected, she rolled her eyes at him playfully, then turned to ask August a question. Killian rubbed his gloved hand and prosthesis against his jean-clad knees, and looked out his window toward the sideview mirror, only to see Mary Margaret’s face reflected in it. His eyes widened and he felt himself blush when he saw the sly smile and sparkle in her eyes as her gaze bounced between himself and Emma.

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The first stop was a learning experience for Killian. He stood in the middle of the group and sang along softly, but mostly just watched the rest of the carolers and the recipients of their songs. Observing the smiles on all of their faces, his heart filled with the joy of the season

Marco’s house was the next stop and after they piled out of their car, August went inside to get his father. While they waited for him to bundle up and make his appearance, Killian edged closer to where Emma stood chatting with Mary Margaret.

When the dark-haired woman noticed his presence, she gave him a conspiratorial smile and subtly took a step to the side, leaving a gap beside Emma, which Killian filled immediately. He always liked listening to her voice as she sang the hymns in church and wanted to hear her sing the beautiful Christmas carols.

He watched her bounce on her toes and rub her upper arms briskly, breath coming out in steamy clouds. “Cold, Swan?” he asked.

“A little, but I don’t mind. It just makes me look forward to the hot chocolate even more.”

“I’m sure Marco will appreciate our caroling,” he said, stepping closer to her, hoping to block the wind a bit.

“Yeah, he will. He appreciates everything. I love his cheery outlook on life.”

“Aye, he’s a sweet soul…”

At that moment, the front door opened and Marco stepped out, followed by August, who descended the steps to rejoin the group. Mary Margaret began singing “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing” and everyone else joined in immediately.

When the song ended, Marco applauded, a smile lighting up his weathered face. “Now don’t be afraid to sing a little louder,” he said. “These old ears don’t work so well anymore!”

They appeased him by adding more volume to “Jingle Bells” followed by “Up on the Housetop”, complete with all the hand motions.

“Let’s do one more,” David said.

“Dad’s favorite carol is ‘The First Noel’,” August shared.

Everyone nodded their agreement and once again, Mary Margaret started the song. By this time, Killian felt more comfortable and confident in his singing, his clear tenor voice gaining volume. Every now and then, he saw Emma glancing at him, giving him a somewhat quizzical look. He briefly wondered what she was thinking, but he was enjoying himself and didn’t dwell on it.

When he hit the high note on the final ‘noel’ of the song, he was watching Marco’s beaming face, so he failed to see the look of awe on Emma’s.

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After bidding Marco goodbye and returning to their cars to travel to the next place, Emma sat wedged between August and Killian, trying to evaluate the feelings washing over her. Of course she liked Killian, and of course she found him attractive. She was a heterosexual female, after all. But after months of convincing herself that he was nothing more than her friend, suddenly her eyes were opened to the truth - she had feelings for him that went much deeper than simply friendship. It was as if that high note he sang hit her right in the heart.

“Alright there, Swan?”

She startled at his question and shook herself out of her musing. “Oh, um, yeah. I’m fine, just a bit chilly,” she replied, not looking at him. She didn’t want to risk him reading her thoughts.

Killian reached over to adjust the temperature setting on the console in front of her. His arm brushed against her leg, causing a rush of warmth through her that had nothing to do with the car’s heating system.

“Thank you,” she murmured, wondering why she hadn’t thought of doing that herself, while at the same time knowing it was because her mind was elsewhere. For the rest of the ride to the next location, she engaged August in conversation.

As the evening progressed, Emma somewhat successfully redirected her thoughts to the fun and joyful activity. Whenever they gathered to sing, she intended to put some distance between herself and Killian, but was magnetically drawn to him and his melodious voice.

After caroling at all of their scheduled stops, they made their way back to the church, where volunteers had coffee, hot chocolate and donuts waiting for them in the community room. Emma picked up her warm beverage and snack, then busied herself talking to Elsa and Anna. She saw Killian sitting with David and Mary Margaret, but didn’t join them as she normally would. Once her conversation with the sisters was over, she noticed Killian heading her way and quickly tossed her trash in the bin, then ducked into the restroom.

When she emerged several minutes later, Killian was leaning against the wall beside the door. “Swan, are you avoiding me?” he asked.

“What? No!” she immediately responded. “What makes you think that?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just seems like you’ve been talking to everyone except me this evening. Have I done something to upset you?”

Her fingers began toying with the chain around her neck, a nervous habit of hers. “No, Killian, you haven’t done anything wrong. I just…I guess I was busy catching up with some of my other friends.”

Killian scratched behind his ear, a nervous habit of his own. “Sorry, Swan. I didn’t mean to accuse you. Of course you have other friends and want to talk to them. I shouldn’t have been so sensitive.”

Emma felt bad. Here he was apologizing when she had been avoiding him most of the evening. “Don’t worry about it, Killian. Like I said, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Looking around, she realized many people were getting ready to leave. “I think I’m gonna say goodbye to Mary Margaret and David and call it a night.”

“I think I’ll do the same.”

They walked together to the table where the couple still sat. After chatting with them for a few moments, Killian helped Emma into her coat and donned his own, then they exited the building. There was an awkward silence as they walked side-by-side toward their cars and she knew it was her fault. They usually spoke so freely and easily to each other, but now, her discomfort and confusion over her newly discovered feelings was driving an invisible wedge between them.

They reached her car and Killian yanked the driver’s side door handle, but it wouldn’t budge.

“You have to have the magic touch,” Emma stated. After breathing on the side of her balled fist, she rapped it on the doorframe just above the handle, then grinned at him triumphantly when she pulled on it and it instantly opened.

He was unimpressed. “I don’t think you need the magic touch, I think you need a tow truck,” he said dryly, rolling his eyes.

Giving a little huff, she settled behind the steering wheel. “My car might not be as fancy as yours,” she said, eyeing his Chevy Chevelle parked beside hers, “but it gets me where I want to go.”

“If you say so, Love,” he sighed. “Drive home safely.”

“I will,” she promised, then closed the door and fastened her seat belt. The VW’s engine roared to life, she pushed in the clutch, then shifted into reverse. After backing out of the parking space and putting it into gear, she waved at him and pulled out of the parking lot.

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Killian watched the dilapidated bug until it turned the corner, before he got into his own vehicle. As he traveled home, he wondered about Emma’s behavior throughout the evening. Everything seemed perfectly normal for the first couple of stops, but after caroling to Marco, she hardly said another word to him.

He racked his brain to figure out what he did to upset her, but couldn’t come up with anything. When they were in the car, she was either talking to August or appeared to be lost in thought. After arriving back at the church, he thought she would join Mary Margaret, David and himself at their table. He didn’t think anything of her talking to Elsa and Anna instead of sitting with them, until he was walking over to ask if he could get her another hot cocoa. She still had a small piece of donut left, but when she saw him coming, she tossed it in the trash and hurried into the bathroom.

It was at that point that he realized she was avoiding him for some reason. Even though she walked with him to her car, she still hardly said anything to him.

The Christmas caroling was fun. He thoroughly enjoyed the fellowship with the other singers and seeing the obvious pleasure the caroling brought to the recipients, but as he drove home, he had a hollow feeling in his gut. He wished he knew why Emma suddenly seemed uncomfortable in his presence.

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Emma couldn’t sleep. Once she got home after Christmas caroling, she soaked in a hot bath for a while, then tried to read, but her thoughts kept drifting, so she finally gave up and went to bed. Now, she was lying wide awake, while memories of the last seven months ran through her mind.

When had she developed romantic feelings for Killian Jones? And more importantly, what was she going to do about it?

She never had any luck with dating. Oh, she’d been asked out plenty of times, but it usually ended up being a one time thing. The only two guys she went out with more than once were Neal and Walsh, and both turned out to be losers. Maybe the problem was that she set her standards so high, nobody could meet them.

Killian Jones might just prove her wrong…if she gave him a chance.

Rolling onto her side, she stretched to grab her phone off of the nightstand and checked the time. Seeing that it was only a few minutes after eleven, she sighed. She felt like she had been in bed for hours, tossing and turning, trying to clear her mind of the swirling thoughts.

Almost subconsciously, she tapped on her messages app and scrolled through until she reached the thread with Killian. They sometimes texted late in the evenings, so she was sure he wouldn’t mind.

E: Are you awake?

K: No. Sound asleep.

E: Liar.

K: What’s up?

Emma hesitated before answering, debating whether or not to take a risk. Killian had become a good friend and she had no idea if his feelings were anything like her own. If she admitted them, would it ruin their friendship, or lead to something wonderful?

Finally, she made a decision.

E: Can I call you?

Within seconds, his name appeared on her screen as an incoming call. Taking a deep breath, she steeled her nerves and answered, “Hey, I hope you don’t mind me texting you so late.”

“Not at all, Swan. What’s on your mind?”

“I, uh, I wanted to apologize for tonight. You were right - I was avoiding you.”

There was a long pause before he replied in a quiet voice, “May I ask why?”

It was her turn to pause as she tried to establish what she wanted to say. “I didn’t know you had such a great singing voice.”

“My voice is what caused you to avoid me?” he asked incredulously.

“No, I…it’s just that I…” She heaved a sigh. “I’m screwing this all up.”

“Screwing what up?”

“My apology and my…confession.”

“Confession?” he asked, his tone heavy with confusion. “What are you confessing?”

“I…you know what? Just forget it. This is a conversation I’d really rather have in person.”

She heard him clear his throat. When he spoke his next words, she had to strain to hear him. “I can be there in fifteen minutes, Emma.”

“Killian, I’m not asking you to come over in the middle of the…”

“I know you’re not asking, but I’m offering. Is that alright with you?”

Emma plucked at her blanket, knowing she probably wouldn’t get any sleep until she talked to him. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Positive. I’ll change clothes and be there as soon as possible.”

“Thanks, Killian. Drive carefully.”

After his assurance that he would, she hopped out of bed and tugged a hoodie over her pajama top. Then she began pacing the floor as she waited, trying to compose in her head what she was going to say.

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Killian was never so glad that Storybrooke was small, since Emma lived on the opposite side of town. It also worked in his favor that the streets were nearly deserted and the town sheriff was likely snoozing in the police station, because he couldn’t help going a little over the speed limit to try to get there quicker.

His mind was racing, replaying what Emma said over the phone. A confession. What could that mean? Was she going to confess she didn’t want to be his friend anymore, or maybe she was dating someone? Engaged? Secretly married?

Stop it, he commanded himself. Of course she wasn’t married or engaged, or surely he would have found that out in the last several months.

Still, a confession usually meant something that was hard to admit. Could she possibly have feelings for him that went beyond friendship? Dare he hope for that?

Finally arriving at her apartment, he pulled up to the curb, cut the engine, and took a couple of deep, calming breaths. In a few minutes, he would find out whatever it was Emma wanted to confess. He just hoped he could handle it.

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Emma was still trying to figure out what she was going to say, when she heard a soft knock on her door. Always the gentleman, she knew Killian wouldn’t want to wake her neighbors by knocking too loudly.

She gave herself a quick pep talk as she crossed the living room, then turned the knob and opened the door. If she hadn’t been so focused on the upcoming conversation, she would have laughed at her friend’s untidy appearance. He wore a pair of baggy gray sweatpants and a navy blue hoodie with ‘Adidas’ emblazoned on the front in white letters. His usually neatly combed hair looked like he’d run his hand through it numerous times and she saw a bit of toothpaste at the corner of his mouth.

Stepping aside, she waved him into the room. “Thanks for coming over.”

“Not a problem, Love,” he said.

She closed the door and turned to face him. It was obvious he was just as nervous as her by the way he rubbed at the nape of his neck. “Do you want to sit down?” she offered.

“Uh, sure.”

He sat on the edge of the sofa and she dropped down onto the other end of it, fidgeting with the drawstring of her hoodie. After several moments of tense silence, she said, “I guess I owe you an explanation for why I acted the way I did tonight.”

“You don’t owe me anything, but I’ll listen if you want to tell me.”

She gave him a small smile and he encouraged her with a slight nod. “I…we, um, we’ve known each other for over seven months now, right?”

“We met in May, so that sounds about right.”

“You’ve become a good friend to me, Killian. You’re easy to talk to and you always make me laugh, no matter how bad of a mood I’m in. But tonight, when I heard you sing, it was…it was like a switch flipped and suddenly I realized I feel…different towards you.”

When she paused for a few moments, he coaxed her to continue. “What do you mean by different, Swan?”

Slowly, she pulled her eyes up to meet his, and the gentleness she saw in the blue depths gave her the courage to go on. “My feelings have gone beyond friendship. I…I think I’m falling for you.”

Holding her breath, she awaited his response. The stunned expression on his face had her rethinking her decision to tell him, but the grin that slowly stretched across his handsome features soon pushed that thought away.

“I’m really happy to hear that, Emma, and I must say that it’s about bloody time!” he blurted, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

It was her turn to be stunned. “Wha-...does that mean that…that you…”

“I’m falling for you?” he said, completing her question. “I already did a long time ago.”

“Y-you did? But why didn’t you tell me?”

He nervously scratched behind his ear. “I didn’t think you were ready to hear it and I was afraid my confession would drive you away.”

“That’s why I was hesitant to tell you, too.” She paused and squinted at him. “You said a long time ago. Just how long?”

“Remember that day in August when you talked me into going to the beach with you? I was so self-conscious about taking my prosthesis off and letting you see my stump, but you grabbed me by the wrist to lead me out to the water like it didn’t bother you at all.”

“Of course it doesn’t. I’m a fan of every part of you, Killian,” she said, reaching out to take his prosthesis in her hand. “That was a long time ago. You kept your feelings hidden really well.”

“It wasn’t easy, but now,” he said, moving closer to her on the couch, “I don’t have to hide them anymore."

“No, you don’t,” she agreed, moving easily into his arms and peering up into his face; the look of pure adoration he wore melting her heart, while at the same time, making it beat faster.

Without a doubt, she knew she made the right decision.

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It has to be a dream, Killian’s mind was telling him. Emma just confessed having romantic feelings for him and now she was in his arms, looking for all the world like she wanted to kiss him. This couldn’t really be happening, could it?

There’s only one way to find out, he reasoned. Closing the distance between them, he brushed his lips against hers, then pulled back enough to see her chasing after him, clearly wanting more. Who was he to deny her?

The moment their lips connected in a deeper kiss, the sparks flew. What he had been thinking for months was confirmed; he truly was in love with Emma Swan.

He would have happily continued kissing her for the rest of the night (or of his life), but a need for oxygen superseded his plans. Slowly opening his eyes, he took in the look of complete bliss on her face. “Emma?” he whispered.

When her beautiful green eyes blinked open, he saw the same happiness he was feeling reflected in them. “Yeah?” she breathed.

“I’m way past falling for you. I’m in love with you.”

It was his turn to hold his breath as he waited for her response, but not for long. Immediately, she surged forward to kiss him again. Then, as her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck, she replied, “Good, because I love you, too.”

Another breathtaking round of making out followed their declarations. Since neither of them was ready to let go of the other yet, they stretched out side-by-side on the couch, cuddling and kissing under a fleece blanket, while listening to Christmas music set to a crackling fire video on TV.

Soon, they were asleep in the arms of the person they loved. When Killian woke up In the morning with a crick in his neck from sleeping in an awkward position, he considered it well worth the pain.

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Emma sat in the church on Christmas Eve, listening to Killian sing a solo of ‘O Holy Night’. It had been a year since she declared her love for him and a lot had happened since then, not the least of which was him asking her to marry him.

When he hit the high note towards the end of the song, Emma felt the now familiar tingle run down her spine. She was sure his smooth, mellow voice would always have that effect on her. As the final notes of the song faded away, she met his eyes and knew he would see all of the love and pride shining in her own, even in the dimly lit sanctuary.

He rejoined her in the pew and she entwined their fingers, then leaned in to whisper, “It was absolutely perfect, my love.”

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A year ago, Killian didn’t want to sing loud enough for other people to hear; he never would have been brave enough to sing a solo in front of the whole congregation. Having Emma’s love changed that, along with so many other things in his life.

One thing that hadn’t changed was the fact that Emma is his best friend and soulmate. Having so few friends growing up, he cherished having someone with whom he could share everything. She is always there for him - listening, discussing, and cheering him on. Proposing to her was the easiest decision in the world.

It was her idea for him to sing a solo for the Christmas Eve service. As he prepared for it, he once again asked himself how she talked him into it, but the answer was the same as it was last year, when he made the momentous decision to go Christmas caroling.

He was utterly and completely in love with Emma Swan.

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Wishing all of you a very Merry Christmas and a New Year that hopefully has lots of new Captain Swan content!

Tagging: @hookedmom @kmomof4 @cs-rylie @qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @wyntereyez @the-darkdragonfly @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper @julesep3026 @courtorderedcake @lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @captainswan4life85 @bluewildcatfanatic @eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426 @julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling @andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @huntressandlioness1 @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @laschatzi @zaharadessert @jennjenn615 @yasbio2015 @lyssapup27 @nachocheese-itsmycheese @singersdd @mie779 @undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @xsajx @jackieorioncat @teamhook @bdevereaux-blanche @soniccat @searchingwardrobes @jarienn972 @apiratewhopines @softkilly @goforlaunchcee @kymbersmith-90 @captainswan217-blog

#csff #CS Christmas #CS modern AU #Hitting a High Note #jrob64 #art by jrob64 #cs fanfic #Christmas fluff #Christmas caroling #friends to lovers

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kyliafanfiction · 1 month

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Honestly, I actually like the idea that Hook's hand was actually like... still evil. That would have been more interesting.

Not that I believe Rumple when he says it wasn't cursed.

#Musings #Kylia Watches OUAT #Killian Jones #It's Lindsey's Evil Hand all over again

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idristardis · 4 months

Text

And So We Meet Again

OUAT/Captain Swan - Rated very mild T

A/N: Okay, so after four years (literally) and more than a few false starts and rewrites, I have at long last finished this Captain Swan fic. I received a prompt for a fic based on an "accidental hug" around four years ago, quickly wrote the first section of this fic and then, just...nothing. Somehow a month or so ago, I got inspired again, dusted it off, and wrote (and rewrote) sections two and three...and....voila! I'm both inspired that I could do it, and afraid that I've forgotten how to write...but here goes nothin'!!

I think I tagged everyone who asked - apologies if I missed you!!

Word Count: 3,669

Read it on: AO3

“Heeeeey, hiiiiii!” The cheery shout was all the warning Killian had before a blur of red leather and long blonde hair barreled into him, knocking him back a few steps and forcing most of the air from his lungs.

(He managed to hang onto the bag containing Liam’s birthday present as her momentum spun them nearly all the way around in a circle - but only just).

“Er, hello,” he croaked, fumbling to find his footing and regain his breath. “I think you might have the wrong person, lass. I’m new to the area and I don’t believe we’ve met.”

The unknown woman looked up at him, and Killian promptly lost his newly restored ability to speak. She was…well, there was no word for it other than stunning. Wide, jade-colored eyes set under strong brows, a gloriously riotous golden tumble of hair spilling down over her shoulders, and soft pink lips that were stretched into a mischievous grin.

“I know we haven’t,” she replied, laughter coloring her tone. She didn’t seem phased in the slightest to be standing as they were, still pressed closely together. His arm had gone around her when they’d first collided - an instinct, purely to prevent her from toppling over, of course - and his free hand was pressed to the small of her back to steady her. One of her hands was braced on his shoulder, the other on his chest - as happenstance would have it, right over his heart. The warmth of her palms seemed to sink right into his muscles where she touched him, though her words put a bit of a damper on the situation. “And I've definitely got the wrong person."

“Oi! That’s not fair, lass. We barely know each other - you didn’t have to agree that quickly,” he teased, feigning a slightly offended tone. “You’d give a lesser man a complex.”

She raised her eyebrows before executing an impressive eyeroll and Killian found himself unexpectedly captivated and charmed. "I meant you weren't who I was intending to hug.” She shrugged slightly without ever stepping away from his arms. “It wasn’t a comment on the general state of your...uh...rightness.”

He chuckled. "I was only teasing - I’d gathered as much,” he murmured, smiling down at her. “Though I have to ask why, if it was an accident, is it...uh…still going on?” He tilted his head inquiringly and continued. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

She looked up and their gazes met and locked. Her eyes bored unblinkingly into his, searching for something - perhaps trying to gauge the sincerity of his words. She must have found what she was looking for, because after a long moment her shoulders relaxed and she huffed out a wry chuckle. “It’s kind of an embarrassing story.”

Killian simply looked at her patiently. “I’m sure it can’t be that bad. Why don’t you let me decide?” He tilted his head expectantly, silently prompting her and hoping that she’d continue.

She hesitated for a moment and he smiled encouragingly. “I don’t even know your name,” she mused, but he could tell from her tone that she’d already decided to share the story with him. For some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on, Killian was very glad that she had - he’d only just met her, and all he knew was that he wasn’t ready for her to slip back into the throngs of shoppers packing the mall on this drizzly Saturday afternoon and disappear.

“Killian Jones,” he murmured with a wink, and a slight wiggle of his eyebrows. “At your service.”

She rolled her eyes again at his antics, but this time she also smiled back at him, something warm softening her gaze as they continued to stand close, inhabiting each other’s space. Without turning around, she tilted her head and jerked it pointedly a couple of times until Killian realized she wanted him to look in the direction she was indicating. “See that guy over there in the leather jacket? About two stores back and to my right?”

Killian scanned the modest crowd milling about in the nearby section of the mall’s main concourse. It took him a moment, but then sure enough, right in front of the bookstore, he spotted the man his new acquaintance must be referring to. He was tall, with warm brown hair that curled gently and a short beard. He was wearing a leather bomber jacket and dark jeans. Once he’d gotten a good look, Killian nodded. “Yes. Your intended hug-target, I assume?”

She sighed, though it didn’t sound sad so much as resigned. “Yep. That’s my ex. He’s...look, I’m probably about to overshare, but it’s the only way to explain, well, how we,” she gestured between them for a moment before returning her hand to his shoulder, “got here.”

Killian shrugged slightly. “I’m not judging you, lass.”

“Right, right,” she exhaled deeply, seeming to gather her thoughts. “Okay, so...he’s a good guy, my ex, but it just didn’t work out. We dated, on and off, for about six months...ish, before deciding that we were better as friends, and then - almost before I knew what was happening, he got a job offer and packed up and moved to Portland about four months ago.”

“You stayed in touch, I take it?” Killian asked, curious as to where this story was going.

She nodded, glancing up at him again. “We’d been friends before we dated so we stayed friends after. He’s been back a couple of times to visit and whenever we see each other, I just sorta-”

“Gently tackle him?” Killian teased, prompting his still unnamed acquaintance to slap his arm lightly with the hand that rested on his shoulder.

“Basically. It was just kind of a joke, a harmless thing we did...something we always did, as long as we’ve known each other...but this time...it’s a bit complicated.”

Just then, a flash of movement in the near-distance off to the woman’s right caught Killian’s eye. A petite brunette with a kind face, wide smile, and bright blue eyes stepped out of the bookstore. She was impeccably dressed, all the way from her tidily styled hair down to the sky high heels that had looked impossible to walk in - though somehow she managed it with grace. Objectively, Killian could admit to himself that she was quite pretty - though personally he was far more captivated by the as-yet-unnamed stunner who was still wrapped in his arms.

The brunette approached the mystery woman’s ex, curling herself into his side and stretching upwards to kiss him - perhaps just a shade too passionately for the middle of the afternoon at the Storybrooke Mall, not that that really mattered to Killian.

“Ah, yep...yes. I think I see the...complication, as it were. They seem rather cozy, don’t they?”

“Uh huh...and that’s great for Graham. I’m absolutely thrilled for him - I just don’t want his new girlfriend’s first impression of me to be as a so-called jealous ex who, quite literally, can’t keep her hands to herself. Especially when I’m not actually jealous, you know?”

Killian nodded. “Makes sense to me, lass.”

“Unfortunately, Graham neglected to mention that he was bringing her on this trip...so I only found out when I spotted her for myself just as they kissed before she ducked into the bookstore a moment or two ago - but by then it was too late, I’d already-”

“Launched yourself at him?” Killian supplied with a chuckle, causing her to narrow her eyes at him and frown - though he thought he could see amusement tugging at the edges of her mouth. He raised his eyebrows at her, a wide-eyed, innocent expression settling over his face. She glared playfully at him in return - at least he hoped it was playful.

“Yeah, something like that…then had to adjust course last minute and, well, here we are,” she murmured, a sheepish grin finally breaking over her face. “Look, I’ve taken up a good chunk of your time with my nonsense, and you’ve been really great about it. But if they’ve gone, I’ve gotta go myself - Graham, or, well, I guess, they will be looking for me down by the fountain in the atrium, which was where he and I were actually supposed to meet. I’d just spotted him early and, well…you know the rest.”

Reluctantly, Killian pulled his gaze from hers and scanned the area behind her - quickly realizing that there was no sign of this mystery blonde’s ex and his current paramour anywhere. Glancing down at her, his lips involuntarily twisted in a wry grin. “Coast is clear,” he informed her, hoping that he didn’t sound as disappointed as he felt to have their brief, odd interaction coming to an end. He stepped back from her slowly, his arms receding, fingertips trailing lightly down her sides as he moved out of her space.

Maybe he was just indulging in a bit of wishful thinking, but it seemed that she was just as loath to pull away as he was, a slightly unfocused daze clouding her brilliant green eyes and making her look just a bit entranced before she shook her head to clear it. “Thanks, Killian,” she murmured with a smile. “It was nice to meet you - even if it was a surprise.”

He nodded in agreement as she stepped a bit further away. “I agree, love.” She turned and began hurrying away down the mall’s central walkway before something occurred to him. “Wait!” he called after her. “You still didn’t tell me your name!”

She turned, and though it was hard to tell with the distance now between them, he thought she winked. Her voice was decidedly mischievous as she called back to him. “You seem like a smart guy…I’m sure you’ll figure it out sooner or later!” After that, she turned away again and disappeared into the crowd of shoppers.

Killian chuckled to himself as he watched her go. “Oh, challenge accepted love….”

~*~*~*~*~

“Swan! At last…I’ve been looking all over for you!” Emma had only a moment to look up from the bakery window where she’d been moping over the empty bear claw display and turn to brace herself for impact before the owner of the voice with the smooth-as-silk British lilt (who had fueled more than a few of her recent daydreams if she were being honest) enveloped her in an embrace, sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her into his side.

For a brief moment, she was so lulled by the very tempting smells of leather, salt, and his deeply spicy cologne as it wrapped around her that she didn’t react much to being tugged against him. She enjoyed their close proximity for a moment, taking the opportunity to sneak an inhale of his amazing scent before giving herself a mental shake and pulling back slightly. Arching an eyebrow at him, she replied teasingly. “I see you managed to figure out my name after all - I have to admit, I’m kinda impressed.”

“Ah, I’d like to think I’m fairly resourceful, Swan,” he murmured, glancing back over his shoulder briefly before turning back to her. “But not to diminish my own skills…this is a very small town. It didn’t take too long to figure out that the sheriff likes to come into Granny’s diner a few times a week for lunch, or that you,” he tapped the badge fixed to her belt with the index finger of his free hand, “were said sheriff.”

“Well done, Jones,” she smiled at him again. “Although, I do have to ask…what’s up with, uh, this?” she swept her hand back and forth between them in a gesture that encompassed where the two of them were nestled together. “It seems we’ve found ourselves in a familiar position.”

As she indicated the lack of space between them, Killian sighed heavily and turned them so that they were facing the wide picture window on the front of All You Knead, but he wasn’t looking down at the remaining pastries the bakery had to offer. Instead, his eyes flickered up and to their left. He tilted his head closer to her, murmuring softly. “D’you see the two women across the street and down by the clothing shop?”

Emma forced away the cascade of goosebumps that started to skitter down her arm at the sensation of his breath washing over her ear and neck - get a grip, Emma! - and focused on the women he’d indicated. They were a bit far away, a couple of blocks or so, but the perfectly-arranged, designer black hat perched atop an artfully upswept tangle of red curls was unmistakable, as were the jagged, black-and-white asymmetrical locks that passed for an avant garde hairstyle in sleepy Storybrooke. “Oh…I see. You’ve met some members of our so-called local coven, have you?” she joked, a grin pulling at the corner of her mouth. “Zelena Mills and Cruella DeVille - and yes, if you can believe it, those are their real names.”

In turn, his lips pulled into a frustrated scowl. That should not be so sexy - stop it, stop it, Emma! “Bloody hell,” he muttered, “are they always so…so…”

“Invasive? Pushy? Disturbingly thirsty?” Emma supplied, her grin growing wider as she watched a pink flush spread down Killian’s neck and disappear beneath the collar of his button down.

“Yes, yes, and bloody damn-it-all, yes.” He shot a look at her out of the corner of his eye before returning his gaze to the window and keeping an eye on the other women in the glass. “I’ve run into them once or twice since my brother Liam and I moved here…usually when I’m in Granny’s or somewhere where there were more people about, but today…well,” he hesitated, “...they were a bit more…overt than they’ve ever been before.”

Emma tilted her head inquisitively and caught his eye in their window reflection. She wanted to return the favor of the kindness he’d shown her a few months ago when she’d gotten into a silly predicament with Graham and his new girlfriend. Echoing what Killian had said to her then, she nodded at him to continue. “I promise, you can tell me and I won’t judge.”

Killian glanced again at the women’s progress in the window and turned a bit, moving Emma along with him and starting to walk slowly down the street away from them. “I was in the clothing shop just a bit ago…looking for a few new shirts, mainly. Well, I was in the changing room and…” he trailed off for a moment and swallowed hard before continuing, “...the changing room walls are unfortunately very thin and sound carries rather easily from the main sales floor, which I suspect they might have known. They were not making any effort to hide what they were saying - and most of it was about me. Let’s just say that I’ve caught their attention in a way I never sought to, and their, er, carnal imaginations are rather vivid.”

“Oh my God, that is….well, that’s just awful.” Emma involuntarily shuddered a bit as she sympathized with Killian’s discomfort, but was still a bit puzzled as to how that led to her sharing the current moment with him. “But then why did you come sweep me up like you did?”

He chuckled slightly, and his free hand reached up and scratched at a spot just behind his right ear. “Well, that is both a happy accident and a bit embarrassing,” he said, looking down at her as they walked. “Er, I was so eager to get out of the shop and away from where those women were lying in wait that I just, well I guess you could say I bolted and headed right out the door. You just happened to be in my eyeline as soon as I left the shop…luckily for me. But honestly, Swan, I’d been hoping to run into you again for a while, so I was very glad it was you.”

“Well, I’m glad I could return the favor and help you out of a jam, even if it is a kinda ridiculous one,” she said with enough of a smile to let him know she was teasing. But then something caught her eye and she stopped in her tracks. “Uh, Killian, did you say that you ran out of the shop immediately?”

“Yes, why?” he shot her a confused look.

“Uh, well, I hate to tell you this, but I think we have to go back there right away,” she turned around and his arm dropped from around her waist, but she caught his hand and before she could think too hard about what she was doing, she’d laced their fingers together and gently tugged so he’d fall back in step with her.

“What? No! Swan, did you not hear the tale of my escape from perilous circumstances?” Killian protested. “You’re leading me right back towards the lion’s den, as it were,” he kept his voice low as they were once again pulling even with where Zelena and Cruella were headed towards them on the opposite side of the street.

“A bit overdramatic, huh?” Emma laughed. “Seriously though, I did hear what you said…but I also saw this,” she thumbed at a tag that she’d noticed a moment ago, pinned to the edge of the pocket of the shirt Killian had on. “I’m guessing that in your haste to escape those perilous circumstances, paying for this shirt might’ve slipped your mind?”

Killian looked down at the tag and then at her with a chagrined expression. “Shite,” was all he muttered, before nodding. “Lead on, Swan, let me rectify my accidental misdemeanor before you have to take me back to the station with you.”

“Oh buddy, if you stole something from Mabel Tuffet - even accidentally - it’s not me you have to look out for,” she smirked at Killian as he let out a pained noise. “But don’t worry - I’ll help you explain it, or at least I’ll try.”

Killian shot her a genuine grin and a gaze whose warmth was so unexpected in that moment that Emma felt her face flushing again. “Well Swan, it would seem I’m doubly in your debt. How can I ever repay you?”

Emma grinned back at him, but hers was a bit more knowing around the edges. “I’m sure I can think of something.”

~*~*~*~*~

Nearly two years later…

“Hello love, fancy meeting you here,” Killian stepped up behind Emma and slid his arms around her waist. A low, pleased hum instinctively escaped him when she immediately leaned back against him. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head and heard her sigh happily in response. “I’ve been looking for you since I finished up at the pub and handed off the dinner service to Liam.”

“Hm, I dunno,” he heard her say, her voice soft and gently teasing. “I would’ve thought this would be the first place you’d look.” She kept her face turned to the harbor as she spoke, and he could understand why. The pastel pinks and deepening purples of the twilight sky spread out before them over the pearlescent sheen of the water, boats and ships of all shapes and sizes bobbing and swaying on the slow rise and fall of the waves generated by a passing tugboat. Somewhere a dog was barking, but the sound was muted and echoed a bit, as if it were coming from further off down the shore.

It was, in a word, idyllic.

“You’re quite right, it should have been,” he murmured in her ear and pulled her closer to him. “I’m sorry t’have kept you waiting, love.”

Emma turned in his arms to face him then, smiling up at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. The waning light was just bright enough to lend a bit of luster to the rings that adorned her left hand as she slid her palms up the lapels of his jacket - that soft gleam was a sight Killian found he wasn’t yet tired of after two months. And it’s doubtful I will be after fifty years, he smiled to himself at the thought. Emma’s hands had continued up over his shoulders while he’d been lost in his musings, before anchoring themselves in the soft leather of his collar. “It’s alright…today was just a long day at the station, and waiting for you here gave me a nice chance to relax and unwind. Also, I got to thinking…”

“Oh? Should I be worried?” he teased, his own arms sliding around her waist and settling at the small of her back, feeling the cool press of his own ring against his other hand as he laced his fingers together. “Just what schemes are unfurling in that brilliant mind of yours, love?”

Instead of replying verbally, Emma smiled brilliantly at him before stretching upwards while tugging gently down on his neck, bringing their mouths together in a kiss that started out playful, but quickly turned sensuous…and definitely not appropriate for the very public Storybrooke waterfront park. Killian found he was having difficulty caring much though, particularly when Emma’s hands tugged on his hair and she nipped lightly at his bottom lip before pulling back and blinking up at him, her cheeks flushed, her hair mussed, and her eyes hazy but happy.

“...I was thinking that David has the overnight patrol and Liam’s got things covered at the pub, so you should take me home, we should turn off our phones, and, uhhm…” she fumbled her words a bit when one of his hands slipped into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled her impossibly closer, “...do a lot more of this…and perhaps a few…mmm…other things as well…” she murmured as he bent his head again, dragging his lips up the side of her neck until they were pressed against the shell of her ear.

“I have to say, love, I like the way you think.”

~*~*~*~*~ THE END ~*~*~*~*~

Tag List: @spartanguard, @hollyethecurious, @wingedlioness, @lenfaz, @shady-swan-jones, @teamhook, @bluestarburst1217, @lfh1226-linda

#ouat #captain swan #cs ff #my fic #writing again #at least a little bit #now maaaybe i might finish a couple of other things that have been kicking around in my drafts #we'll see #no promises!!#hope you all like this though

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