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believingispowerfulmagic · 5 years

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“The Dark Legacy” Chapter 2: Birth

Robin woke up the week after Memorial Day to a fine sheen of sweat covering his body and the thinnest sheet on their bed sticking to his skin. He sat up, grimacing as he felt how hot the room was. The shower was running in the bathroom and he knew Regina was in there, hopefully cooling herself down. He climbed out of bed, deciding to join her.

Once he slid into the bathroom, he waved his hand and magically removed his clothes. He opened the glass door and stepped in, relishing the feeling of the cool water on his burning skin. Unable to help himself, he let a moan.

Regina jumped before twirl around, holding her hand over her heart. Her eyes were wide. “Robin! You startled me!”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he said, rubbing her arm. Guilt filled him, knowing what he did about her childhood and her mother’s abuse. Regina tried to hide it, but she flinched easily and did not react well to people crowding her space. He should’ve warned her before he got in.

She shook her head. “It’s okay. You were sweaty too?”

He nodded. “It’s like an oven in the room. What happened?”

“Summer surprised us,” she said with a sigh. “It’s like someone just cranked up the thermostat. Speaking of which, can you check that so we can get the air conditioning working before we all die of heat?”

“You read my mind,” he replied, not sure what he could do but wanting to help in some way. “I’ll check it as soon as we’re done cooling down in here.”

She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him. “Thank you so much. Now, do you think you can do my back for me? I can’t reach it.”

“Of course,” he said, looking her over. Her breasts had grown, ready to provide milk for their daughter, and she was now carrying lower. It hadn’t escaped his noticed that she had dropped during the week and he knew it meant the birth was imminent. He had then tried to get her to rest more but his wife was too used to always being on the go, so taking a break seemed wrong to her. Robin had no doubt that she would leave the shower, dress and head to the mayor’s office—even though Maleficent was more than capable of taking over for her.

Regina turned around and he grabbed her loofa, squirting some body wash into it. Once he worked up a good lather, he started to wash her back. “When will you be home?”

“By lunch time,” she said and it raised his spirits to hear that. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “There are a couple reports I want to go over with Mal and they shouldn’t take too long.”

He gently turned her so the water could wash the soap off her back and he smiled at her. “Does this mean you’re getting ready to stay home for good until the baby is born?”

She sighed though she continued to smile. “Yes, it does. I’m admitting that it’s time for me to stay home with my feet up until our little princess is here.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I know it’s hard for you to do so but I am glad. It’ll be a relief to know you’re here and relaxing, ready to go whenever the time comes.”

“And what about you? What will you be doing?” she asked, snaking her arms around his neck as she tried to get as close as her stomach would allow.

He peppered her face with kisses as he answered her: “Waiting on you hand and foot. Will and my other men are going to keep up patrolling and protecting the forest so I can stay home, ready to whisk you to the hospital when the time comes.”

“I quite like the sound of that,” she said, smirking. She then reached for his shampoo, squirting a generous amount onto the palm of her hand to lather it up. “Now, let’s get you all clean so we can get ready to start our day.”

“Or we can have a little fun to start our day,” he told her, gently cupping her sensitive breasts in his hands.

She bit her lip but shook her head. “We can’t. Sex this close to my due date could trigger labor and I can’t have her just yet.”

Robin knew she had a point and that while he was eager to meet his daughter, there were still a few things they needed to do to prepare for her arrival. So he nodded, bowing his head. “Then scrub away.”

*****

Feeling very refreshed and a lot cooler after their shower, Robin changed into cotton t-shirt and jeans. He certainly appreciated the clothing of this world over the garments they wore in the Enchanted Forest, especially in the summer. They aren’t as warm and let his skin breathe, keeping him cooler longer. Cotton was certainly a miracle fiber.

He then went to check the thermostat, frowning as he looked it over. The technology in this world still baffled him, so he waved his hand and let his magic fix it. A blue glow covered the white box before dying down again. Within seconds, he heard the air conditioning kick on and cool air filled the hallway.

“Thank goodness,” Regina said, leaving their bedroom. She wore a beautiful red maternity sundress with a white cardigan over it. Her hair was down, falling around her shoulders, and her makeup natural. Robin thought she was an absolute vision.

He smiled as he wrapped his arms around her. “Anything for my family’s comfort.”

“Our hero,” she teased, rubbing his nose. “I’m going to go downstairs and get breakfast started. You get the kids up and ready?”

“I will. Permission just to dump Henry on the floor?” he asked, knowing their oldest was not a morning person.

She nodded. “If you must. I think he gets that from Emma.”

“I can see that,” he acknowledged, stepping away from her. “At least Roland and Haven are easier.”

“Haven is also six months old. She can’t put up much of a fight,” Regina told him.

He pressed his lips together as he tilted his head. “And who ended up wetter the other night when we tried to bathe her?”

She grimaced. “Right. She still is a Mills. And we are stubborn.”

“I love that about you and her,” he replied. “I’ll also love it in our other daughter.”

“Well, quit stalling,” she said, giving him a gentle push. “Or else the boys will miss the bus.”

The door to his right opened and Roland emerged, dressed in the Storybrooke Academy summer uniform of a white polo shirt and blue shorts. He held out his arms and grinned at them, proud of himself. “I won’t. I’m ready.”

Robin and Regina chuckled and she held out her hand to him. “Yes, you are. Want to help me make breakfast?”

“Yes!” he said, taking her hand and skipping next to her as they head for the stairs. Robin watched them with a goofy grin until they were almost to the first floor.

He then turned to head into Henry’s room, steeling himself for a fight. As Henry entered his teenage years, he was getting more and more difficult to wake in the morning. When left on his own, he often didn’t wander downstairs until after noon. They didn’t mind on the weekends but on the weekdays when he needed to get up for school, it always led to a fight.

Because of the heat, all of Henry’s blankets were pushed to the very edge of the bed. He lay sprawled over the mattress, arms and legs akimbo as his mouth hung open. Snores drifted up from him as he slept on, his alarm clock turned off—meaning he hadn’t turned on the snooze option. Robin had no doubt that if he didn’t come in to wake him, Henry would’ve slept right through most of the school day.

Robin shook Henry’s leg. “Time to wake up, son.”

“Five more minutes,” the boy mumbled, trying to roll away from Robin. “Then I’ll wake up. Promise.”

“No deal, my boy. It’s almost seven. The bus will be here soon and you definitely want to have breakfast before heading out,” Robin replied, shaking him more. “So, up and at ‘em or you’re going to have a hard meeting with the floor.”

Henry rolled away, curling up as far as Robin as he could possibly get. With a sigh, Robin gripped the mattress and started to tip it. “Last chance, Henry. Wake. Up.”

When all he got in response was a groan, Robin let out a resigned sigh before tilting the mattress up until Henry landed on the floor with a thud. The teenager popped back up, glaring at the older man. “What was that for?”

“I gave you the chance to get out of bed on your own and you didn’t take it,” Robin explained with a shrug. “So I got you out of bed.”

Henry sulked. “Did Mom agree to this?”

“She did,” he said. “Now, get dressed and head downstairs for breakfast. I’m going to get your sister and this room better be empty when I get back. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Henry replied, heading toward the bathroom. “I won’t go back to bed, Robin. I promise.”

Robin nodded. “Good. I’ll see you downstairs then.”

His only answer was the slam of the bathroom door.

Sighing, Robin left Henry’s room and crossed over to the nursery. Two cribs stood in the room, as did two changing tables and two dressers. Different stuffed animals decorated the room, which was still painted lavender. One wall, though, had Haven’s name written in fancy pink lettering while the other wall was waiting for when they officially named their other daughter once she was born. Her half of the room looked empty, but Robin knew it was only a matter of time before she was there as well.

A soft coo drew his attention to the occupied crib. Haven was sitting up, her pudgy arms raised as her little hands reached for him. Her red curls stuck up in different directions from her night of sleep and Robin tried to smooth them down as he picked her up. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

She laughed, clapping her hands as he kissed her nose. It made Robin smile even wider. He gave her a little bounce. “Let’s get you ready for the day, okay?”

He laid her on the changing table, taking off her nightgown and undoing her onesie in order to change her diaper. Once her bottom was clean and a dry diaper was put on her, he snapped the onesie back in place before heading over to the closet. Robin stared at all the dresses Regina had arranged by color. “What do you want to wear today? Blue? Green? Yellow?”

Though Haven couldn’t answer them with words, she had her own ways to respond when her family talked to her. She always reached for Regina whenever she spoke to the baby girl, wanting to be held by her mother and to look right in her eyes. Whenever Roland spoke to her, Haven would let out the purest laugh and clap her hands as her blue eyes sparkled. She gave Henry her undivided attention whenever he spoke, especially if he was telling her a story. For Robin, her father, she always tried to babble back to him as if trying to hold a conversation with him. The sounds made his heart soar and so he continued on talking, pretending to answer her. He was always rewarded with a beautiful smile that was still mostly pink gum, though she had a few tiny white teeth to show off by now.

She babbled at him now and he pulled out one of the dresses. “Alright, sweetheart, yellow it is. You’re right that it’s your best color, though you look amazing in all of them.”

Robin kept talking to her as he dressed her and placed little white socks on her feet. He picked her up, running his hand over her curls. “You know what? Let’s let Mummy sort your hair out,” he said.

He carried her from the nursery, stopping to check on Henry’s room. Pleased to find it empty, Robin continued downstairs so he and Haven could join their family in the kitchen for breakfast.

Nuzzling her as they entered the kitchen, Robin smiled when he saw both Roland and Henry at the table. They sat with Regina and all three were eating yogurt mixed with granola and fruit for breakfast. She caught his eye and pointed to the counter. “I have a bowl ready for you as well as a bottle for Haven.”

Hearing Regina’s voice, Haven turned around in his arms and reached out for her as she babbled away. Regina held out her arms and nodded at Robin. He handed her the baby girl and kissed the top of her head as he set down the hairbrush. “All yours.”

“Gee, thanks,” she said sarcastically as she picked up the brush. She leaned closer, smiling as she spoke to Haven. “We need to teach your daddy how to do your hair too.”

Robin chuckled as he grabbed his yogurt as well as his daughter’s bottle and carried it to join the rest of his family at the table. He sat down next to Regina, who had already managed to wrangle Haven’s red curls into a cute little ponytail. She then placed the little girl into her highchair and Robin handed Haven her bottle, guiding it into her mouth and watching as she started to drink the milk inside.

As they ate their breakfast, a feeling of contentment washed over Robin. His family was safe, happy and about to expand. Sneaking a glance at Regina’s round stomach, he grinned at the thought of the baby girl growing inside her and once again became excited to meet her. It wouldn’t be easy juggling two children under one years of age but he knew he and Regina could handle it. None of their children would ever lack for anything—especially love.

He took another spoonful of yogurt and his eyes caught sight of the time on his watch. Frowning, he let his spoon fall into his bowl. “Bus is going to be here in a few minutes. You boys need to finish getting ready.”

“Yes, Robin,” Henry said, pushing his chair back as he picked up his bowl. “Come on, Roland. I’ll help you with your shoes.”

Roland hopped up, grabbing his bowl as well. “Thank you, Henry.”

They placed their bowls in the sink and as they walked toward the entrance, Regina stopped them. “I most likely won’t be able to see you off, so let me say goodbye to you now.”

“Bye, Mom,” Roland said, hugging her. He kissed her cheek before kissing Haven’s head. “And bye, Haven.”

Henry also kissed his mother’s cheek before kissing Haven as well. “We’ll see you later, okay?”

She laughed, banging her empty bottle against her highchair’s tray. Roland grinned. “I think she’s saying okay.”

“Go on, you two,” Regina said, chasing them out of the kitchen. “Your father can’t drive you to school.”

“Only because someone won’t lend me the Mercedes,” Robin teased her, finishing up his yogurt.

She just stared at him, nonplussed. “Someone needs to get his driver’s license first and then I’ll buy him his own car. Then maybe after a few years of good driving, I might let that someone drive the Mercedes.”

He chuckled, knowing she had a point. “Emma is teaching me how to drive. I asked David but she jumped in and insisted on doing it.”

“Good,” Regina said, shuddering. “Dealing with the damage wrought when he decided to give Henry a driving lesson was bad enough. I don’t want to deal with what he would make you do.”

Robin leaned back, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not sure if you were insulting me or David.”

“David,” she clarified. She then motioned to the hall. “You should probably check on the boys.”

He stood, nodding. “You’re right. I’ll be right back.”

After kissing her head, Robin entered the hallway. Henry was just finishing up tying Roland’s shoes and he straightened up, grabbing his brother’s backpack. “Here you go.”

Roland took it and put the straps onto its shoulders as he smiled at Henry. “Thank you, Henry!”

It was a sweet scene but Robin had to move it along. “Okay, you two, time to go meet the bus.”

“Bye, Papa,” Roland said, hugging him. “I’ll see you later.”

“Have a good day at school, my boy,” he replied, kissing Roland’s cheek. He then looked up at Henry. “You too, Henry.”

Henry grinned at him as he took Roland’s hand. “Thanks, Robin. I’ll see you later.”

Opening the door, the teenager ushered his little brother out of the house and Robin sauntered up to the doorway. Leaning against it, he watched as the two walked down the path as the yellow bus pulled up. The driver opened the door and they climbed on, both pausing to wave to him. He waved back and they finished getting on, both finding their seats before the bus pulled away, whisking them off to another day at school.

Emma’s yellow bug pulled up right behind it and she gave two honks, her signal to Regina. She then waved at him and he returned it as his wife approached him. Regina handed him Haven, kissing the baby’s cheek as she shouldered her bag.

“Lunch?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded, smiling softly. “Yes. I’ll see you then. Maybe you can pick us up something from Granny’s?”

He laughed, kissing her cheek. “I will. Now go and don’t forget to thank Emma.”

“I won’t,” she replied, rolling her eyes as she walked down the path to the yellow bug. She paused at the gate to wave to him and Haven one more time before getting in the car. Robin waved Haven’s hand for her as the car pulled away and disappeared around the corner.

He kissed her little hand as Haven cooed in his arms. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s finish getting you ready for daycare.”

Robin headed into the house with Haven, closing the door behind him as he got ready for the rest of the day.

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#once upon a time #outlaw queen #oq au #oq ff #dark robin saga #the dark legacy

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snowbellewells · 6 years

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“Oh Night Divine”

(A CS Secret Santa 2017 gift)

This is my slightly belated CS Secret Santa gift for the lovely and kindly patient @princesswan. Thank you, my new friend, for understanding out-of-town family and sickness constraints, and I hope you will still thoroughly enjoy this holiday fluff. It’s a future one-shot, canon divergent, but one could easily imagine it having happened sometime between where season six left off and where season seven began with Henry heading out on his own. The only thing truly AU about it is that Emma and Killian have had a little girl seemingly much sooner than they did in the show’s timeline. Enjoy the Christmas fluff! Hope your holiday was a wonderful, peaceful one and that your New Year is blessed and full of joy.

“Oh Night Divine”

By: snowbellewells

The deep night’s watch was still and silent in the chill, frosty air of Maine as Killian Jones – mostly retired pirate captain, part-time deputy and harbormaster of Storybrooke – padded in sock feet and flannel pajama pants (an article of clothing he had gained quite an affinity for in the past handful of years) down the stairs of his family’s home. Certainly the sleeping house, his Savior wife wheezing the teeniest of adorable snores upstairs in the bed they shared, and the now-soothed infant daughter once more dozing in his careful arms, were all peaceful, and the darkness broken just slightly by blue lights that wash over the living room from their Christmas tree placed proudly in the front window, guiding his steps enough to safely make his shuffling way toward the screened-in back porch, his favorite part of the house.

Just as his long sailor’s instinct had surmised, Killian found the indigo sky above them dazzling with a vast array of bright stars. Humming an oft-remembered shanty he had heard on his beloved older brother’s tongue of many a similar dark night in the hold of a ship long ago when the dark wrapped around his child self in a much more sinister way, and Liam’s wiry arm had tucked against his side and his calloused fingers siftied through Killian’s dark, wispy hair as he lightly breathed the words he barely remembered their mama, Alice, singing to put them to sleep at night. The whole refrain was lost to his memory ages ago, but strains of it sometimes came to him as he sought out his deepest memories – in echoes of the voices he loved most, all he’d had to love in the world until a green-eyed Savior, her son and family, crashed into his life like a tidal wave, taking him over with a power that couldn’t be held back. It had been a wild, challenging, unbelievable journey from that first glimpse of his lost princess wife’s mistrustful face glaring at him over the smoking wreckage of an Enchanted Forest refugee camp, to where he now stood barefoot on the wooden porch floor, holding their infant daughter, the product of their own True Love, in his arms. Yet, as Killian mused over it, slight up curved tilt to his strong, full lips as he husked the last few notes of the lullaby against soft, downy wisps of dark hair at the crown of his daughter’s head and bounced slightly at the snuffled grunts she made against his shoulder, not sure if she wanted to fuss more or not, every inch he had fought for as he climbed over the walls around his Emma’s heart, had been worth it to bring him here.

Deftly catching up an afghan made specifically for them as a first anniversary gift from Granny Lucas herself, Killian looped it over his stump and lifted it from the back of an old rocking chair to drape it over his other shoulder, arm, and the infant cradled within its grasp. Unfazed, his sleepy daughter huffed slight gusts of warm baby breath against his bare chest, where she was snuggled, calming from the tears she had woken in when he’d gotten her from the nursery some minutes before. Though she clearly enjoyed the warmth and security offered by the skin-to-skin contact with her sturdy, doting papa, Killian could not fathom that she gained more from these pure and priceless moments in the peaceful stillness on quiet nights than he did.

Stroking a gentle brush of his blunted wrist over her shoulder as she nuzzled in a bit more comfortably, he watched her eyelids flutter sleepily and a soft yawn stretch her little mouth momentarily wide. Killian stepped quietly over to where they could both look out on the pristine white lawn running all the way to the iced-over, rocky shoreline where the back of their property met the bay, glowing under the moon in a perfect Maine winter’s night. His Morgan Ruth blinked once again, her green eyes - every bit as beguiling as her mother’s – opened to stare amazedly at the scene stretched out before them. Chuckling lightly in the back of his throat, Killian readjusted his grip as she sat forward curiously, gazing over all the blanketed white where usually there was grey and green, so that her back was now facing him, and she could really take in the nighttime landscape. “That’s right, my bonny wee lass. A Christmas Eve snow…many believe it lucky,” he murmured to her low and easy, a warm undercurrent to their quiet vigil, mere soothing sound to young Morgan Ruth Jones, but he was unable to stop the flow of words he had for her, and the overwhelming flood of pride and love he could never have imagined experiencing for himself – that of a father for a child of his own.

As they stood before the large bank of windows, and he whispered lilting nonsense to her of the brightest stars on the midnight canvas of the sky and pointed out for her enjoyment the lighted angel on the top of Marco’s woodshop and the lights on the dock festooned to warn unfamiliar ships of the harbor’s edge, he couldn’t help marveling at the fact that he stood peacefully, the seething anger and revenge that had dogged him for centuries finally still, in the home he shared with his True Love and stepson, and the precious child in his arms. Bending his head once more to press a gentle kiss to Morgan’s head, it was easy to marvel at how far he had voyaged from the black-hearted villain he had let himself become to the man of honor he was once again, and the gift that the journey had given him.

With Morgan in his arms, the blue glow of Christmas tree lights still shining from behind him as he looked out over the snow and the waves lapping gently against the rocky beach, even the thought of their entire extended clan of family and friends joining them tomorrow for Christmas dinner and the sharing of gifts, songs, stories, and laughter, could top the stolen hour he had with his little girl, the one who had recaptured his heart already stolen by her mother. There was no other holiday event to equal the poignant thrill of the one he was already in, and it was that moment when he heard Emma’s soft tread coming up behind him, followed by her cool, soft hand trailing over his side as she stopped right next to him.

His breath trapped itself in his chest as he blinked rapidly, wondering if he had somehow drifted off into a dream standing still. He had been wrong seconds ago, because only with his wife’s presence as well was the night’s magic fully complete.

^^^^^^^^^^***^^^^^^^^^^***^^^^^^^^^^^***

Emma Swan-Jones had woken up alone, and after groggily feeling around in the cooling sheets and covers rumpled on her husband’s side of their bed, she had awakened more fully, and then admitted defeat, pulled on her robe, and gone in search of him. It hadn’t really taken her long; there was a definite circuit her startlingly predictable and domestic rapscallion made when he was up late at night. Starting at the room just down the hall from theirs, tucked into the northern corner of the house, Emma peeked in to see her now nearly adult son sleeping soundly, his feet kicked out from under the blankets and arm flung up over his face. Though he was not Killian’s by birth, it had never stopped making Emma’s heart beat faster at how much Killian treasured her son, and always thought of him first. Henry’s room was still her captain’s first stop on his nightly check-in, whether Henry was almost eighteen or not.

Moving back the way she had come on silent, slippered tiptoes Emma paused to smile in warm affection at the pictures scattered along the walls of their upstairs hallway. They had – almost a year ago now, she mused – commissioned a large, spreading tree painted on the wall, its large branches filled with craggy twigs and green leaves reaching to cover the full length of the upstairs hall. Hung at staggered intervals on the overspread branches were family photos they had taken and framed, gradually filling the wall with treasured memories. Emma traced a finger over the picture just before her – one of herself in the delivery room with a mere minutes-old Morgan in her arms while her father stood at her bedside, hand cradling the back of her head as he often did, unabashed tears streaming down his strong face as he traced a finger over his granddaughter’s soft baby cheek and bent to place a kiss to Emma’s hair.

The whole thing, a “literal family tree” Killian had marveled enthusiastically when she had shared the idea with him, and again in awe when they stood back to look at it finished with pictures on its boughs, no longer brought the ache of pain in her chest that it once had. She had often seen the family tree for pictures years ago, when she was about seven, at one of the first foster homes she’d been placed in long term. She had loved the thing, spent hours staring at all the pictures until she knew every single one and its spot of honor by heart. As she stayed there one month, then two, and then three and her birthday neared, she had begun to hope that she might be adopted and added to the tree – a picture of her own saying that she finally belonged. When she had instead been gifted a new lunch box and a fitting for the glasses she’d needed instead, and had then haltingly braved asking, only to be told offhandedly than that she was “a good kid” but she wasn’t family, wasn’t going to be staying forever, Emma had shattered somewhere inside, beyond repair, and the first level of that wall around her heart had been completed.

Looking at the next picture, one of Henry, Anna, and Kristoff sprawled in a tangle of arms and legs on the ice rink Elsa had whipped up for them when their friends visited from Arendelle two Christmases ago, with Emma and Elsa laughingly trying to help them up instead of joining the giggling heap, Emma smiled gently despite the bittersweet scene that had bubbled back up momentarily. Seeing their happy memories preserved right in front of her, she was prouder and more contented than ever that she and her True Love had created this tree of their own, both of them now celebrating the holidays – and every day – with family neither of them had believed they would ever have…the family she had always wished for.

Her smile small and knowing as it curved the soft contours of her face, the dimple pressing clearly into her cheek, Emma quickly checked Morgan’s nursery just across from she and Killian’s bedroom, but was not a bit surprised when she found both the cradle and the rocker, where she often discovered her husband sitting with their daughter, crooning to her until she went back to sleep, both empty. She knew exactly where she would find them both, and suddenly she needed to see them, to wrap her arms around her husband and her daughter, to touch them both and remind herself that her once wistful dream had come true at last.

When she stepped off the linoleum of their large kitchen – who would have ever imagined a pirate captain and a teenage boy would become adventurous cooking enthusiasts together? – and onto the hardwood of the enclosed porch, she knew Killian almost instantly sensed her presence. Not much got by him after all. Still, the sight of him in the glow of the moon through glass, cradling their child in his arms, near took her breath away, the dim light stealing none of his beauty, nor succeeding in hiding the handsome contours of his scruffy jawline or the twinkling blue of his mischievous gaze as she drew up alongside him, simply having to reach out and touch his warm skin as he turned to smile down at her.

“What’re you two doing out here in the middle of the night again, hmm?” she murmured lowly, pressing a kiss to his bare bicep while happily burrowing into his side and then trailing lazy fingers over Morgan’s back before resting her hand at Killian’s waist, soothingly rubbing there as he hummed low in his throat, contented as a cat now that both his loves were with him.

“Merely enjoying the few festive lights around the water,” he spoke lowly in response, his doting glance slipping down to Morgan, who had since turned back into his chest and resumed her sleep, belying his words about them both watching the lights and clearly gaining much more enjoyment from some cozy rest in her father’s arms.

“Is that so?” Emma nodded playfully, as if humoring his ridiculous fancy. Beyond Marco’s décor and the dock lights, there wasn’t much Christmas lighting out so near the harbor. She knew her husband still loved being close to the water, watching its perpetual ebb and flow ease his soul, and that he was probably hoping the same affinity would transfer to their daughter. Smirking, at the impish idea that entered her mind, Emma rubbed her hand up and down over his lower back, once more drawing his full attention. Quirking an eyebrow as well, she added playfully, “Well, what if I really gave you something to look at, Sailor?”

“Why,” he quirked his own rascally eyebrow with a curious tip of his head, “whatever might you mean, Love?” he returned, tip of his tongue sneaking out to run over his lower lip in a way Emma’s eyes couldn’t help but follow with her own hungry gaze. Years may have passed since their trip up the beanstalk, but he had never ceased being sizzlingly attractive to her – at a moment’s notice, with a single gesture.

“Hmm…” she pursed her lips, looking at him deviously while merely pretending to think, “maybe something like this?” She didn’t even look away from him when she twisted her hand, and with a flick of her fingers, seemingly illuminated the night in front of them.

Turning to look back out the windows, Killian couldn’t miss his own ship at the dock, as his dazzling wife had just lit it up like their living room tree. White twinkle lights outlined the sails and the bow against the night sky, complete with a bright red star atop the main mast and running multicolored bulbs trailing down the mast from the star and over to circle the ship’s wheel. “Bloody brilliant,” he mouthed in almost silent admiration, and Emma snorted lightly, shaking her head at this man who had seen and done so much, and yet still could be made so genuinely happy with the smallest sincere gesture.

“So, that’ll do, will it, Captain?” she asked teasingly.

“Aye,” he nodded, eyes coming back to hers and looking down on her and Morgan with such love that Emma again struggled to catch her breath. “It will indeed.”

She clasped his elbow, squeezing tightly and content to stay there with him the rest of the night, hating to move and have the moment of rare perfect contentment end. “Merry Christmas, Killian,” she whispered lightly.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” he replied, moving to the settee where they both could huddle with Morgan and enjoy their newly festive lighted view to their hearts’ content. “I love you, my Swan.”

#cs secret santa gift #cs christmas one shot #future cs family fluff #canon divergent oneshot #for princessswan

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