#love4teamhook

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Once Upon a Flower Shop

Pairing: Captain Swan

Summary:  When Killian’s flower shop, Jolly Blooms Flower Shop, fails to deliver the bouquet Emma ordered, she pays the establishment a rather angry visit.  Little to either of them know this mix up might just turn into the best thing that ever happened to them.

Rating: G/K

Words: 1520

Other Chapters: (2) (3)

This fic was written for the #love4teamhook event as a way to support Alma, @teamhook while she’s going through a difficult time.  Thanks to @jrob64 for her work in betaing for me!

  Killian Jones cupped the delicate blooms of an orchid in his hand and nodded in satisfaction.  He’d been rather worried about this particular plant.  It had shown signs of distress a week past, and for several days he’d feared  it wouldn’t make it.  He had done his research, separated the diseased plant from its mates and cared for it as tenderly as a parent would their child.

Today was the first day the orchid showed signs of improvement.  Like Killian himself, this orchid was a survivor.

Killian gathered up the plant and placed it back inside the bright, humid greenhouse, and then stepped back behind the counter of his shop Jolly Blooms Flower Shop.  Sometimes it amazed him, the life he now led.  As a young man, he’d longed for adventure, danger.  He’d joined the navy to be close to his brother, and the life they’d led had been fascinating.  He’d loved every minute of it.

Until the moment his brother Liam opted to leave the navy and marry his highschool sweetheart, Elsa.

Suddenly, with his brother no longer at his side, danger and adventure no longer looked nearly as appealing.  Left at a crossroads, he’d taken some time to evaluate what he wanted to do with his life, and in the end, he’d opted for the pursuit of beauty.

There was something so calming and yet rejuvenating about being surrounded day after day by beautiful flowers. Providing a product that brought joy and comfort to his clients was infinitely rewarding.  His was a quiet, peaceful existence.

His introspection was interrupted when his shop door was suddenly, forcefully opened.  He looked up to find himself face to face with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.  Her golden hair fell on her shoulders and down her back like a cloud of sunshine.  Her green eyes shone.

Unfortunately, today they seemed to be shining with anger.  So much for his quiet, peaceful existence.

“May...may I help you, love?” he asked, hesitantly as she reached his counter, planted her feet and crossed her arms.

“Yeah, I wanted you to help me yesterday, but apparently asking for a flower shop to deliver flowers was too big of an ask,” she clipped out.

Killian found himself at a loss for words, barely even registering what the vision before him said.  They say when you’ve found your soulmate, your True Love, you just know.  You can feel it.  He’d rather thought that was nonsense, but now...well, now he was beginning to rethink every notion he’d ever had about attraction, romance and even love itself.

“Well?” she exploded, planting her splayed hands on his wooden counter and scowling fiercely at him.  

Killian blinked, shaking his head slightly, willing himself to come back to his senses.  Whatever his attraction might be to this woman, she was a customer, and he must get it together and provide her the customer service that had made him one of the most sought-after small flower shops in the area.

“My apologies,” he said.  “Was there a problem with a flower delivery?”

She rolled her eyes.  “Oh I don’t know.  I ordered a bouquet to be delivered yesterday, and yet still no flowers have arrived.  Seems like a bit of a problem to me!”

Killian frowned.  He’d had several flower orders go out yesterday, and he’d gotten no complaints from his delivery people that they’d been unable to complete their tasks successfully.  “Could I have your name, love?”

“Not your love,” she gritted out.  “Emma Swan.  I ordered a bouquet of snowbells to be delivered to Mary Margaret Nolan.  It was very important that they arrive yesterday on her birthday.”

He remembered the order, because of its unusualness. Few people specifically requested snow bells, and those who did typically wished for them to be an accent in a larger arrangement rather than the sole flower within the arrangement.

Killian typed for a moment on his computer, bringing up the order details.  “According to my records, that bouquet was delivered as requested bright and early yesterday morning.”

“And yet my sister still does not have her bouquet of flowers,” the woman, Emma Swan, said.

Killian peered down at his information once again and groaned.  Will.  He should have known his newest--and most annoying--employee would be at the center of any mix up.

“Scarlet!” he called over his shoulder. 

A moment later the man in question stepped through the back room door and walked up to the two of them.  “Anything I can do for ya boss?”

“There seems to be a mistake with yesterday’s deliveries,” Killian said, willing himself to keep his voice even.  There was just something about Will Scarlet and his care-free and yet somehow insolent style that made Killian wish to throttle him more often than not.

“Nope,” Will said, grinning.  “No problems with yesterday’s deliveries.  Handed the flowers personally to every person on my list.”

“What about the bouquet of snowbells for Mary Margaret Nolan?”

Will tapped on his chin, seemingly deep in thought, and then he brightened.  “I remember her.  Pretty woman, that.  Long, curly, fire-red hair.  Kinda thought about asking her out, but decided that might not be so professional-like.”

“Curly red hair?” Emma Swan bit out.  “Mary Margaret doesn’t have curly red hair.  She has dark brown!  I don’t think she even knows anyone with curly red hair!”

“Did you confirm the name of the recipient?” Killian asked.

“Yep, just like you taught me,” Will said, nodding vigorously.

“And this red-head confirmed that her name was Mary Margaret?” Killian asked.

“Well, I mean she said her name was Merida,” Will conceded, “but I figured hey, that must be a nickname for Mary Margaret or somethin’.”

Killian rubbed at his temples, a pounding headache beginning to set in.  “And you didn’t think to confirm that you had the right address and that this person, with a different name, was the actual intended recipient of your delivery?”

Will shrugged.  “Hey, I don’t ask questions.  I just go where the Google maps lady tells me.”

Killian full-on facepalmed this time before glaring at his unbelievably dense employee.  “Just...just go back to what you were doing.  Later, we’ll have a long, probably rather loud discussion about the proper way to deliver flowers.”

Killian watched the idiot disappear into the backroom, muttering to himself about it being Mrs. Google’s fault and then turned back to face the wrath of the avenging angel before him.

“Miss Swan, my sincerest apologies for this unfortunate mistake,” he said.  “The delivery man at fault will be dealt with, and I will set to work this moment to create a replacement for your sister.”

The remainder of the visit was completed in a matter of moments.  Killian took down his dream woman’s information, apologized profusely, and then assured her yet again that he would personally see to the creation and delivery of the arrangement, that it would be his first priority.

Killian’s reassurances seemed to mollify the woman slightly, though her ire was clearly not entirely ameliorated.  Satisfied that she’d at least accomplished what she’d set out to do, Emma Swan turned and walked briskly out of his shop and out of his life.

It rather amazed Killian what a profound sense of loss he felt as the door closed behind the lovely lady.  He’d only known her for the space of five minutes, for Zeus’s sake, and most of that was spent with her yelling at him.  It made no sense that he’d feel such a deep, elemental pull to her already, and yet the heart wanted what the heart wanted.

Killian grabbed a vase and headed in the direction of his snowbells.  There was no doubt about it; he must find a way to see Emma Swan again.  Slowly, an idea began to take shape within his mind.  It was a bold move, perhaps even risky, but if there’s one thing Liam had instilled in him it was this:  A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.

If he didn’t at least try with Emma Swan, Killian knew he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

 Notes:

--This story is loosely inspired by The Words music video, as you might have picked up.  I’ve never written about florist Killian before, and I decided it was time to change that.

--I’m anticipating 2 more short chapters that I’ll post on each of the next Thursdays.  (The point of this event was to post one shots...but my muse is terrible at following directions, lol.

--Up next: We’ll get some Killian pining (a la the music video), but the bulk of the chapter will be from Emma’s POV.  We’ll find out why she was so angry about her flowers not being delivered, and we’ll see her reaction to Killian putting into action the plan he comes up with at the end of this chapter.

                                                                                     NEXT CHAPTER-->

#love4teamhook #teamhook #cs ff #captain swan au ff #cs florist au ff #fluff #my fanfiction

[justanother-unluckysoul]

A Quiet Moment

Emma's been stressed lately, so Killian takes her to visit a secluded beach. That’s all. Just sweet CS fluff without a plot.

A/N:  For the ever so lovely @teamhook , who has been completely amazing at making me feel welcome in this fandom. I hope this brings a smile to your face in these tough times.

Unbetad as always so mistakes are all mine.

Read this story on AO3

A Quiet Moment

Emma thinks the soft rush of waves against the sand would lull her to sleep if she wasn't so damn cold right now. The ground she’s sitting on is doing nothing to make her more comfortable either, cold and unyielding and she’s getting irritated. She shivers slightly, tugging the collar of her jacket higher on her neck, as if that will help.

“You couldn’t have chosen a warmer night for this?” she asks, careful to keep her voice down. She tries to keep the frustration out of her voice, not wanting to direct it at Killian. It’s not his fault she can’t get comfortable - he had urged her to bring more layers, but it had been such a lovely warm day she had brushed off his warning that it would get cold on the beach.

Killian appraises her with a lifted eyebrow and a gentle smile.

"Sorry, love," he murmurs, "I promise it won't be much longer."

He removes his leather coat, draping it around her and she quickly shoves her arms through the sleeves. It's quite a bit too large on her smaller frame, but that only makes her feel cosier as she nestles into it, protected from the chilly sea breeze by the heavy embrace of the coat, the leather still holding Killian’s body heat.

“Thank you.” She sighs, leaning against Killian contentedly as the warmth returns to her bones.

The sun had slipped below the horizon half an hour ago, and while it had been a beautiful evening, the temperature had dropped rapidly once darkness fell. She feels rather foolish for not rugging up the way Killian had instructed and a little bit guilty for borrowing his jacket, leaving him to brave the cold air without it. Though he never seems as affected by the temperatures as she does. He certainly doesn’t look like he minds now either, staring out to sea with a focused, hopeful expression, and Emma realizes he’s as eager to see this as she is. 

“How many times have you come out here?” she asks softly.

“A few times. Enough to know the cold is worth it.”

A light in the sky catches Emma’s attention and she looks up. A shooting star arcs across the darkening sky, burning brighter than she’s ever seen a star burn before.

“Make a wish,” Emma says reflexively.

“Everything I’d wish for is already right here, Emma,” Killian tells her quietly, and her heart swells with love for him and for the way he never lets pass an opportunity to remind her how he feels about her.

“You’re so cliche.”

He hums in agreement as he brushes some wayward hair away from her face. “And you love me for it.”

She can’t help grinning, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. She does love him for it; for that and for many other things. He dips down to kiss her, just a brief touch of his mouth to hers and then he straightens up again to simply hold her to him, letting out a contented sigh of his own. Emma smiles as she snuggles into his arms. Even if nothing else comes of this evening, it’s been wonderful to finally have a quiet moment, here on the beach under the stars with the man she loves. And while Emma’s body may still be cold, her soul feels warm. All too soon, Killian is shifting and letting his arms fall away from her. But Emma doesn’t have a moment to think about how much she misses his embrace because he’s staring excitedly at the water.

“Look, Emma,” he hisses, and Emma follows his line of sight across the beach. 

Riding the roll of the surf is a small blue and white penguin. Emma’s breath catches on a quiet gasp as the adorable creature lands on the beach, getting to its feet as the wave recedes and beginning a hasty waddle towards the rocks her and Killian are sitting on. It’s even smaller than Emma had imagined when Killian had told her of them. 

“Killian-”

“Ssshh. Just stay still.”

The tiny penguin approaches them fearlessly and comes to a halt just out of reach, its head cocked to the side slightly as it observes the two people sitting in front of it. Its blue-grey feathers contrast with its white belly, soft and downy and still glistening with droplets from the sea. It’s the cutest thing Emma’s ever seen. She hardly dares to breathe, afraid she’ll scare it away. She wishes she could pet it, wanting to know if it’s really as soft as it appears, but Killian had warned her not to. It’s an honor to even be allowed on their beach, love, but we shouldn’t ask for more than that. It wouldn’t be proper. And you mustn’t forget they are wild animals, however tame they may seem. It makes perfect sense, but the temptation remains as Emma watches the penguin step even closer. A second penguin makes its way up the beach now, and distracts the first from its curiosity about the humans, the two creatures letting out soft chirruping sounds as they greet one another. It’s clear from their affectionate behaviour that they are a couple, and Emma can’t help smiling at their antics. Shortly the two penguins toddle off into a gap in the rocks further along the beach, disappearing into the sheltered crevice where they have made their nest.

“Come, love,” Killian whispers, taking her hand, “Let’s not overstay our welcome.”

The moon has begun its climb out of the ocean, not yet full, but more than bright enough to light the way as Emma and Killian walk hand in hand up the winding path away from the beach. On the grassy knoll overlooking the sea, they pause to take in the view. The moonlight catches the curve of each wave in silver as it folds upon the sand. The air around them is damp and salty against the back of Emma’s throat, but the chill of the night doesn’t bother her as much now, not with Killian’s coat still wrapped around her.

“Worth it?” he asks.

“God, yes. Thank you, Killian. I needed this.”

She pulls him in for a slow, passionate kiss, which he returns without hesitation, kissing her deeply and thoroughly as his hand cradles the back of her head, fingers tangling into her hair.

“I love you so much,” she murmurs against his lips.

“I love you too, my darling.” He kisses her once more, before adding suggestively, “Now let’s go home and get you properly warmed up.” 

Emma giggles, slipping her hand back into his.

“With hot chocolate?” she teases.

“Aye, that. And other things.”

And damn, the way Killian deepens his voice like that and leans in close always does things to her.

“Hmm, I like the sound of that.”

THE END

#cs ff #cs fluff #seriously this is the fluffiest thing I've ever written lol #look no angst! #captain swan #love4teamhook #my fanfics

[thesschesthair]

My addition to #Love4TeamHook. Thank you to all the wonderful ladies that put this together and let me be a part of it.

@teamhook I hope this helps in bringing you some comfort x.

Early S4 date fluff.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The sun was beginning to retreat for the day, turning the sky a rich orange as Killian headed into the station. It was usually the sign of warm weather but with their current guests in town, a chill still remained in the air.

He found Emma sitting behind her desk with her feet propped up, concentrating on her phone screen. She managed to look up when he entered and flashed him a smile that warmed him more than any sun could. The last rays peeking through the blinds created a warm glow around her, giving her blonde hair and fair skin the illusion of a halo.

She looked so beautiful in these moments that it took his breath away.

He wouldn’t tell her that just yet; compliments still managed to make her shy and deflect, but once she was more accustomed to his affections, he promised to let her know each and every day. For now, he settled for returning her smile.

“What brings you here?” she asked as she set her phone aside.

“Just came to see if you were finished for the day.”

“Yup! It's been nice and slow for once, thank god.” she sighed in relief.

“As it’s quiet for once,” he began as he rounded the desk to perch on it in front of her, “and no crisis or villain’s popping up at hand…”

“Uh huh…” Emma urged him on, liking the sound of where he was headed.

“I’d imagine you’d like to work on a defence plan? Perhaps I can be of service.”

“Oh.” Emma deflated, causing his face to scrunch up into confusion.

“If you have other plans-”

“No!” she insisted, not wanting him to get the wrong idea, “I was kind of hoping you had something a little more…. relaxing in mind?”

Her batted eyelashes and sheepish smile caught him by surprise. He grinned in return as he realised she was looking to spend some time having a night of… with him.

“If it’s relaxation you’re after, love, I just might know a place.”

He held his hand out and she took it eagerly, letting him help her rise from her chair.

“Shall we?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“You know, when I said relaxing,” Emma teased through short pants, “I wasn’t expecting a damn hike through the woods.”

“We’re almost there, Swan.”

His cheeky glare had her shooting back one that let him know she was unimpressed. They continued their trek through the trees, heading higher and higher up a hill. He admitted to himself that it was quite the small journey but he knew- at least he hoped he knew, that it would be worth it in the end.

Though he worried it might be rather difficult on the way back, what with the sun almost gone from the sky… he wouldn’t mention that to Emma just yet.

Finally the trees were behind them and he led Emma to a grassy edge that overlooked the town below.

With the last rays of sun leaving, a deep purple twilight set in that just about kept an array of flowers around them illuminated. The twinkle of lights from the town dotted below them melted in with the stars appearing in the navy sky above.

“Wow.” She breathed, impressed with the sight before her.

Killian didn’t speak, noting her response was an impressed one. He removed his jacket and spread it on the grass before he took her hand and guided her to sit.

“I’ve lived here for years now and never seen this place before.”

“Your boy showed it to me,” Killian confessed, “claimed it's one of the best places to come and think.”

Emma shook her head with fondness, aware that her son was always full of surprises.

They sat and watched the last spectrum of colours in the sky disappear as night finally settled in. Emma scooted in close and made herself comfortable at Killian’s side while he was more than happy to hold her.

They spoke in small bursts, more than happy to just listen to nature around them; little murmurs of conversation was all they needed as they embraced their surroundings and just existed.

Her thumb drew light circles against his knee as his hand held her waist. She felt him move from time to time to drop a kiss to her head, somehow managing to make her skin thrum with warmth each time.

Emma surprised him the next time felt his lips touch her forehead by reaching up and returning one of her own.

The action sparked a whole new desire within them, shifting from comfort to want.

A soft caress of lips was followed by arms reaching to touch the other.

Small moans of pleasure joined the quiet of the night as their need grew and their slow exploration of one another sped up.

Emma was soon seated on his lap with her knees either side of his hips. Her hands gripped his shoulders and disappeared into his hair as his hand squeezed her rear each time she ground down on him.

She reluctantly pulled away for air as they both tried to calm their urge.

This wasn’t the place.

“I should walk you home.” Emma suggested, causing him to laugh with her.

“You know, once there, you could come in.” he suggested as he watched their fingers entwine.

She knew what he was suggesting. The next step. What they’d been building up to for a while.

Her hand held his tight and her thumb teased the skin of his palm.

She brought it up to her lips and kissed it, holding his gaze.

“I’d like that.”

She looked at him through hooded eyes, well aware of the awe he tried to hide. His thumb traced her bottom lip and she surprised him further by catching it with her teeth, gently suckign the tip that lit a roarin fire within him.

“Let’s go.” he ordered, feeling the effects of her teasing rile him further.

They managed to find their way back through the forest, laughing at the multiple missteps and trip ups on stray branches and rocks. Once the road was visible and they were on level ground, they walked arm in arm towards the diner, taking the time to share kisses and caresses as they went.

The eagerness to get inside was just as strong as their enjoyment at spending time together. It was as if they were drunk in each other’s presence; neither could rid themselves of their need to smile or touch. They remained stuck together as they approached main street. Emma's hand was buried inside his back pocket while his arm was secure around her shoulders.

The town remained quiet and untouched, and Emma and Killian were all too glad.

They finally had a moment alone that they were looking forward to turning into a whole night of undisrupted... ‘relaxation’.

#love4teamhook #captain swan #cs ff #little ficlet

[snowbellewells]

“Thick as Thieves (or Princesses)”

I hope you will enjoy my first brand new one shot in quite a while. It’s written for the lovely Alma ( @teamhook ) for the #love4teamhook collection. Though I realize this didn't happen in canon, I consider it more a divergent missing moment which could have happened than fully AU. Killian did seem to make friends with a lot of the various princesses who came and went on "Once", until it sort of seemed like he had a Princess Squad. This story came from that.

Alma, it’s my hope that this little sidetrip to Agrabah might bring a few chuckles as welll as some heartwarming fluff.

Summary: When Killian, Emma, and the Storybrooke crew travel to Agrabah for the wedding of Aladdin and Jasmine, our pirate learns just how many people have his back.

Also available on AO3 here

“Thick as Thieves (or Princesses)”

by: @snowbellewells 

“I never thought I’d see the day,” a disgruntled voice tsked, standing at the mirror and just out of Emma’s line of sight. The speaker had that disapproving tone to her words, one that Emma had come to know well growing up surrounded by people who looked down their noses at her and were constantly disappointed in her prickly demeanor and tough exterior.

The speaker’s companion, a woman whose robes were a violently garish mauve and who kept fluffing her already quite voluminous mane of curly dark hair, sighed in regretful agreement. Her curls bounced as she seemed to nod sagely at her friend’s words. “It’s true - seems just about anyone can marry into the royal family now.”

The first woman tittered gleefully, enjoying having a sympathetic ear for her gossip no doubt. “Never mind the scruffy length of that Aladdin’s hair…” the mocking emphasis she put on the new prince consort of Agrabah’s name, as if it were too ridiculous to take seriously, had Emma clenching her fist angrily, ready to storm into view and speak up on her friend’s behalf. However, the rest of the woman’s words, knocked her back on her heels for several stunned, painful seconds, “...but did you see the sort of riff raff on his side of the aisle? Street rat that he is, I suppose I really shouldn’t have expected more from the guest list, but honestly!”

“And the visitors are no better! What are Queen Snow and her Charming thinking accepting a pirate for a son-in-law… with his reputation and that hook?”

Emma’s pulse was pounding so strongly in her temples that her vision was going a bit hazy when she charged into the ladies room from the short hall where she’d been listening, revealing herself to the bitter hags at the sinks, practically vibrating with righteous anger and staring them both down as their mouths fell open in shocked embarrassment. Their entire aspects changed as they began to simper and apologize, hoping to placate the royal standing before them.

Emma was having none of it. She might not have grown up being taught the diplomacy and etiquette she would have if she’d had the chance to really grow up as Princess of Misthaven, but she had enough manners not to mock people behind their backs and then feign sweetness and innocence to their faces. Breathing heavily, she glared at both of the Agrabahn women. She darkly thought that the scare served them right as their obsequious attempts to atone eventually trailed off into silence. Crossing her arms over her chest, intending to cut every bit as imposing a figure in demure light blue dress (so she’d wanted to try to match her pirate’s eyes, sue her!) as she would wearing her red leather jacket and sheriff’s badge.

“You two should be really glad I don’t know your names. I can’t imagine that the Sultan would like to deal with this sort of disloyalty on such a happy occasion. He at least seems astute enough to care for who brings his daughter happiness rather than who comes bearing the fanciest pedigree or the newest style.”

Blowing out a breath, she almost turned on her heel to storm back out and leave them with some food for thought, but then she wheeled back around, drawing even closer, until she was almost nose-to-nose with the two gossips. “And furthermore, my husband might have been an indentured servant, and a pirate, but he is the finest man in all the Realms, and I won’t stand for any insinuations otherwise. If you really want to pick on a street rat, you might as well start with me. I may have been born a princess, but I grew up as much ‘riff raff’ as you called your new prince.”

She gave them an arched brow and waited; a clear challenge to direct their taunts and barbs to her face. 

Shaking their heads in nervous denial the two women quickly excused themselves and hurried from the room without looking back.

“That’s what I thought,” Emma muttered under her breath with a curt little bob of her head as she watched them flee. She wasn’t even offended on her own behalf; she didn’t care if some strangers and hangers-on thought she was the “right sort” of royal, and she knew her parents felt the same. The barbs struck beneath Killian’s armor though. He talked a good game, and played off such insults well if one didn’t know him as Emma did. He judged himself too harshly and was loath to bring any imagined slight to her name with his past.

Shaking her head, Emma breathed out a sigh, hoping to shrug off her consternation, knowing said pirate would be waiting for her just outside. 

Sure enough, as she re-entered the large, open air ballroom set up on the shining gilt-covered porches of the Sultan’s palace, her husband was at her side in moments. Brows waggling playfully, he clearly had a quip or come-on at the tip of his tongue, but he stopped short at the sight of her face. Head tilted to study her, his hand came to her elbow, steadying her curiously. “What is it, Love? You look like thunder!”

She wasn’t about to lie to him any more than she intended to hurt him; they understood each other too well for that. “Nothing important,” she fluttered her hand carelessly. “Just turns out that snobs and bullies are the same in any realm is all.”

He gave a small nod of affirmation, clearly understanding her. “Aye, that does seem to be the way of it.”

Both were quiet for a moment watching couples dancing, Aladdin and Jasmine mingling and greeting their guests, Belle laughing merrily as Henry told her some story with impassioned and enthusiastic gestures for emphasis, before Killian spoke up again. Devilishly handsome smirk in place once more, his eyes sparkled as he added. “No matter, Wife. I’m sure you showed them the error of their ways.”

She snorted, shaking her head at his antics, even if he was absolutely right. Holding out his hook to her gallantly, Killian bowed before murmuring so close to her ear that it sent shivers all along her skin, “Pay no more heed then. Dance with me, instead?”

Flushing in a way that she knew spread all the way down to her more pushed-up and on-display than usual decolletage, she grinned broadly. Her husband seemed rather spellbound, his eyes following the rise and fall of her breaths helplessly and his tongue flicked out to trace his full perfect lips at the sight on display. “If you think you can handle it,” she winked. “I was starting to think you’d never ask.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometime later, after several dances and Emma’s begging to rest her feet, unused to heels that weren’t knee-high boots these days, Killian had seen her back to the table they were sharing with her parents and Henry, and was fetching them both drinks from the elaborately flowing sangria fountain, somehow arranged to flow steadily into a large punch bowl, where waiters then dipped it into crystal glasses for guests as they approached the table.

“Two please,” he told the server when it was his turn.

Accepting the filled cups a moment later, Killian couldn’t resist a quick sip right then, having worked up quite a thirst with he and Emma’s exertions, the close crowd, and the arid desert surroundings. Humming at the pleasant blend of flavors on his tongue, he questioned curiously, “Is there rum in this? It tastes as though some of the best has been blended in with the fruit juices.”

“I - I believe so,” the server stammered rather uncertainly.

“Well, my compliments. It is one of the better libations I’ve had the pleasure of imbibing.”

It was as he had turned away, heading back to Emma at their table, that he heard the words whispered behind him. “Well, he would know, wouldn’t he?” hissed one lowered voice.

“Word has it he’s found the bottom of more liquor bottles than most people have ever seen,” countered another insinuating murmur.

“A one-handed pirate with a drinking problem given free rein in this palace full of treasure to tempt his baser instincts… seems like a recipe for disaster, if anyone had bothered to ask me,” chimed in a third, the sniff of indignance making that barb carry with a bit more volume. Killian felt his shoulders hiking up toward his ears with the tension, but he managed to hold himself steady and not to turn to glower at the servants threateningly. Time was he would have whirled and taught them all a lesson they’d not soon forget, but he was trying to be a different man - a better man - though it would seem to some his efforts made little difference.

“And to think, he has the Crown Princess of Misthaven on his arm!” huffed yet one more hateful voice, again well within his sharp hearing whether or not that had been the intent. This was the shot which met its mark, causing Killian to drop his eyes to the two cups balanced carefully in his right hand, hoping to make a quick escape before anyone realized he was around. It was like he had tried explaining to Emma before  - people had a long memory when it came to expectations for their leaders, and married True Loves or not, there were some who would never approve of Captain Hook as Prince Consort to one of the most prominent kingdoms in the Realm.

His hasty retreat was abruptly blocked however, by two dainty feet in golden and turquoise-jeweled sandals, barely skimmed by the hem of a long, white silk gown standing right in his way.

Surprised, Killian’s head jerked up to find Princess Jasmine’s eyes staring back at him sympathetically. She had clearly heard the same hateful words he had just been subjected to, yet she appeared anything but ready to sneak off and let it continue. In that moment, with her lips pursed and eyes calculating as she weighed her next move, a delicate hand on his forearm to stall his retreat, she looked incredibly like his fierce and beautiful Swan.

“Speaking of temptation,” she purred, the feigned placid smile on her face a warning as she stepped around him to eye the gathered help pointedly. “The only thing I am tempted to do is search for a new kitchen staff - one cultured enough not to speak ill of a particular friend of the bride and an honored guest.” Princess Jasmine was a petite woman, but the way she drew herself up before them, staring down her nose imperiously at each offender in turn, made her seem every inch a tall, proud monarch it would not be wise to cross.

A hushed, abashed-eyed chorus of “Yes, ma’ams” and “Apologies, your majesty,” fell over each other as the whisperers bowed or curtsied and then hurried from the princess’ sight, properly rebuked for having displeased her, and on her wedding day no less.

“Ahh… thank you, Milady,” Killian offered quietly, feeling more than a bit awkward that she had felt she must come to his defense in such a way. He had certainly heard similar insults before - and much worse. Even carefully cradling the two drinks in one hand, he still found the curve of his hook raising to rub behind his ear in nervous embarrassment - his eyes hardly wanting to hold his saucy friend’s gaze even as she eyed him knowingly.

“Nonsense,” she dismissed easily, waving away the sheepish gratitude with a quick flutter of her hand. “They needed correction. Anyone who is going to work in the royal palace needs to be wise enough not to insult the guests!”

“Be that as it may, Lass, there’s no need for you to trouble yourself over my hurt feelings. They weren’t wrong, after all…”

Jasmine was having none of that. Her dark hair beneath the gorgeous flow of her organza veil swished around her as she shook her head emphatically, eyes sparking intently as she refused to allow him to glance away. “Hardly, Captain! I think I am a better judge of character than that, and I know backbiting chatter does not begin to capture all of your fine qualities, merely the flaws. Besides,” and she winked here, lacing her arm through his free one as she steered them back toward his family’s table to greet them all herself, “you would do the same thing for me were the situations reversed.  And I hear that your lovely wife has already been speaking up for my own handsome scoundrel. We princesses who can recognize a diamond in the rough have to stick together!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things calmed down as the reception festivities wore on through the afternoon. Killian found it easier than expected to brush the sniping words he’d heard to the back of his mind and enjoy himself. There was too much to see and do, too many friends, both new and old, to catch up with, and far more happiness to celebrate than sour notes to dwell on. He had challenged David to a game of darts and trounced the royal soundly. He had spoken at length with Aladdin himself about the future as a married man, starting families, and loving a princess. He had even attempted to settle a heated debate between Henry and Belle over whether The Thousand and One Nights or The Book of the Wonders of India were the better read.  He had respectfully declined to offer his opinion in the end though, knowing better than to side against either one of them when they were so passionately involved.

As the hours seemed to melt heedlessly into evening and the lavish banquet was served to conclude the night, Killian found himself seated with Henry and Emma on one side of him and Belle on the other at a long table, and across from him, grinning broadly with the guileless enthusiasm one couldn’t help but love was none other than Ariel and her husband, Prince Eric. Everyone was chatting happily throughout the appetizer, but as those first plates were cleared away and the main course was served, Killian encountered a rather vexing conundrum. 

The fragrant lamb dish placed before them was tempting enough to make his mouth water in mere seconds. However, how to actually go about eating it posed a bit more of a challenge. Had he been on his own or back in Storybrooke where he was comfortable, it would have been no trouble. He would simply have pierced the larger cut of meat with the point of his hook to hold it still and then cut it into smaller pieces with his knife, then switched to his fork when finished. However, using his hook at this fine a table and in such company seemed as though it might raise a few eyebrows.

He paused, attempting to gauge his options without alerting his companions that anything was amiss. And, of course, it took no more time than that for the jackals to begin circling once more. Prickling along the back of his neck, Killian sensed that he was being watched as he debated his next move. Glancing about him surreptitiously, he found the culprits easily enough. Agrabahn nobles or wives of council members, he thought he remembered vaguely from an earlier introduction. They had also seemed reluctant to shake his hand, and now he saw that his instinctual assessment has been correct. Though he couldn’t hear their actual words, their heads were bent together as their eyes drifted from him to his plate and utensils and back before he did hear a small trill of smug laughter.

What he did not expect was the cry of outrage that rang out just across from him in the next moment. Shooting to her feet with an abruptness that sent her chair toppling to the floor behind her with a loud crash, sweet natured Ariel herself was pointing at the two catty women with a finger that practically trembled in her righteous anger. “How dare you, y-y-you harpies!” she exclaimed, her volume attracting more attention than Killian would have hoped, staring at his plate with jaw clenched enough to make the muscle within it tick noticeably as well as the heat of a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks.

“You ought to be ashamed of yourselves!” Ariel continued, her own pale cheeks flushed with her fit of pique. Eric reached out a concerned hand in an attempt to soothe her, but she wasn’t finished. Killian half expected her to stamp her foot for more emphasis.

“Have you - either of you - any idea how much the man you’re giggling at can accomplish with just one hand? How much he has done for numerous ones gathered at this very table? It would hardly matter if you were about to see him use one of these ridiculous forks incorrectly!”

As if to illustrate her point, Ariel picked up a fork and twirled it around her fingers rather menacingly, if Killian did say so himself. “I’ve had to learn to eat with unfamiliar manners and utensils too. It’s not as easy as it looks! And if any of you have any more to say about it in regards to my friend, well… I’ll show you another way to weld the pointy end of these things, right in your pompous behinds!”

The whole gathering was stunned into silence for a moment. Killian could hardly move as he watched Ariel breathing heavily and then plunking back down into her righted seat and leaning in Eric’s solid comfort. He could sense Henry’s wide-eyed awe beside him as he looked at the mermaid princess admiringly. Yet, he struggled to make himself shift his eyes to Emma on Henry’s other side, hating that he had put her so close to such an embarrassing spectacle. Though when he did, a relieved whoosh of air escaped as he saw her glancing back at him, biting her lip and looking torn between wanting to pull him away from the table and soothe him as only she knew how, and standing up to whistle and applaud her agreement with Ariel’s speech.

Leaning closer, so that only he and Henry could hear her, Emma’s eyes twinkled merrily with mischievous pleasure as she told him, “You’ve got an entire Princess Squad watching your back, don’t you, Pirate?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Late that night - or early the next morning, depending on how one wanted to look at it - Emma rolled over in bed to prop her chin on her husband’s chest, idly running her fingers through the dark hair covering his always deliciously warm skin. Though he had been holding her cozily as always, arm around her waist and her back pressed to his front, cocooned in his embrace, she knew he was still awake and was sure she knew what was troubling him.

She couldn’t help thanking her fellow princess once again in her mind for remembering that she and Killian were basically still newlyweds as well. Jasmine had seen to it that they had a gorgeously appointed suite to themselves, far enough from her family and the rest of the Storybrooke visitors to afford them some privacy. The large, open room’s windows with gauzy curtains let in the rapidly cooling air deliciously after it had blown so hot across the desert all day. It felt luxurious on her bare skin beneath the fine, light sheets in the giant canopy bed. She had definitely thought there would be some things they could get up to in that bed once they’d returned from the reception some hours ago, but Killian had merely readied for sleep, lay down, and opened his arms to hold her.

Not that there was anything wrong with that, or that she minded cuddling up with her handsome husband whenever they could catch a quiet moment, but she sensed something bothering him in his lack of playful banter and the tension she could feel in his body. That was why when she rolled over and began to run her fingers lightly over his skin. She took a deep breath, and then finally raised her eyes to meet his. Words were not always her strong suit, but she was determined to try - especially when she got a glimpse of the melancholy lingering behind the look of sleepy affection in his eyes.

“You know that those few people who would doubt you are such a tiny minority… don’t you?” she asked, hoping that he did, and that he would believe her in this as he always had before. “And even if they weren’t - which they are - it wouldn’t matter. The people who count know what kind of man you really are; they see the same hero that I do.”

Emma paused, holding her breath, watching as Killian opened his mouth, then closed it, then swallowed hard, before finally speaking aloud in ragged but determined tones. “Aye, so all of you have assured me. Most of the time, I even believe it. Still, those incidents tonight…. They remind me that I do not wish for my past, my villainous reputation, to cast doubt upon your family. I would never want to tarnish your rule or your standing with your people.”

He looked so distraught, so painfully sorry that Emma had to cradle his face in her hands and lean up to kiss him right then, trying to pour all of the comfort and reassurance she possibly could into the gesture, even before she answered his concerns. When she did pull back, he offered her a smile looked at least mildly soothed, and she gently brought one hand back to his chest while the other sought out his hand to twine her fingers with his.

Squeezing gently for emphasis, she tried to answer him the best way she knew how. “Okay, first of all, what’s this about my family and my people? They’re yours now too. Killian, you have to know that my family loves you. My dad is like a lost puppy when you can’t come to his Tuesday Guy’s Nights - ” That did make him crack a genuine smile she noticed happily. “That’s what it means when you marry and two become one, right? What’s mine is yours, and what’s yours is mine. There’s no separating it back out now.”

Killian nodded his agreement, but a furrow of concern still creased his forehead. “Aye, Love, of course you’re right, but still - ”

“Ah ah ah,” she shook her head, cutting him off, “I’m not done. You also have to see that though it felt like a lot bubbled up today, it was less than 10 people, in a gathering of hundreds. They are such a tiny percentage, and they do not matter. Anyone who really knows you would never think any of those things you heard today. Besides that, this rule and kingdom you seem so concerned about? What bearing does that have on our everyday life? Storybrooke isn’t some old-fashioned monarchy, and we’re going back to Storybrooke. You aren’t hurting anything… you make it so much better.” She spoke that last with fervent emphasis, clinging to his hand and waiting for his response.

Slowly the last of the clouds and the frown of concern seemed to ease from her husband’s face. Emma felt her heart flutter a bit as he met her eyes with a look of such awed reverence and love, and joy where there had been shame and self-doubt. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Emma, but you’re right. I’ll not allow a few naysayers to ruin what we’ve built.”

Shaking her head, eyes welling with tears of relief and love of her own, Emma just managed to choke out, “I’m the one who doesn’t know how I managed to deserve you. You chose me, you didn’t give up on me - even when I made it difficult, and you put me back together, Killian. You - you showed me my heart still worked.”

He was on her the minute she stopped speaking, lips capturing hers as his thumb came up to brush away her tears. He rolled them to hover over her, and just stared at her for a moment, both their hearts pounding, before she reached up and pulled him back to her. There were still a few hours of darkness left, and neither of them planned to waste it with any space between them.

Tagging a few others who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi  @revanmeetra87 @xsajx @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @therooksshiningknight @spartanguard @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @hollyethecurious @gingerchangeling @kday426 @profdanglaisstuff @shireness-says @thisonesatellite @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @let-it-raines 

#love4teamhook #cs ff #ouat canon divergence #ouat missing moment #thick as thieves (or princesses) #cs one shot #ouat one shot

[karlyfr13s]

Crafty: A CS One-Shot

A fluffy moment in time post-wedding. For @teamhook our fearless leader of the CSMM, my encourager, and the one who unites this wild group. We love you, and I promise there is even more light on the horizon. Keep a weather eye. 😉

“Swan, what are you doing?” Killian arched a brow at his wife, curled up by the fireside with her hair piled atop her head and a basket of yarn beside her. Her tongue poked out between her lips and her brow furrowed as she concentrated on whatever she was doing with the small metal hook in her right hand. She glanced up at him briefly before returning to her work with a grunt. “Darling, it’s the middle of the night…”

“Hush, I’m focused.” He crossed the room and peered over her shoulder at what she was creating. At the moment it looked to be a large flat swath of fabric--a scarf? A blanket? He wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t about to choose the wrong option. Instead, he rubbed the back of her neck, suppressing a grin at her sigh of pleasure.

“You’ve been down here for hours. Come to bed,” he suggested. Her absence in their bed was what had woken him in the first place, and he wasn’t about to return without her. “This can wait until morning,” he added when he heard her yawn. He was winning her over, he could feel it. He kept up with the gentle pressure on the base of her skull, knowing she often held tension in her neck and shoulders.

“I’ll make coffee and we can watch the sunrise from the balcony,” he promised, leaning in to kiss the shell of her ear and yet she stubbornly persisted in her work. “I’ll make breakfast while you continue this craft of yours. Come now, love. I know you’re exhausted. What’s the rush?”

She paused in her efforts and turned to look at him, blush painting her cheeks a rosy pink. “I, uh, well...the last time we were aboard the Jolly...” She made a terrible impression of his accent and cleared her throat. He fondly recalled that outing--it had been just the two of them, Henry otherwise occupied at the movies with Violet. They’d sailed out past the safety of the harbour and along the coastline for a while, enjoying a picnic on deck and entirely different pleasures as well once safely out of view of a spyglass. Her hair fanned out like spun gold, her skin luminous in the early evening glow off the water...Killian shook himself from his imaginings.

“What about it, love?”

“I may have ripped your blanket that second time we...in your cabin,” she bit down on her lower lip and he grinned broadly at her. “I figured I should replace it myself, so I’m learning how to crochet. It’s getting cold and I thought we’d need it soon. Well, and maybe want it again soon.” She smiled up at him and tried her best version of his own eyebrow arch. It was sweet and he echoed her expression with his own. Killian adored how much his Swan loved their time on the water, how much she’d embraced the Jolly as an extension of their home. The captain’s quarters had never been so filled with warmth and light as they were now that she accompanied him each night they were aboard.

She relented at last, standing and stretching her weary limbs. First reaching up toward the ceiling, which gave Killian the most enticing peek at her stomach, then down to touch her toes. At that point, he couldn’t resist and moved lightning-quick to slap the round swell of her arse. “Hey! Who do you think you are?” She rose up on her tiptoes, pressing an accusing finger to his sternum, and trying for ferocity but landing somewhere on the verge of laughter based on the sparkle in her eyes.

“Your husband,” he retorted, licking his lips and bending down to scoop her up. He tossed Emma over his shoulder, clicking off the lamp before packing her upstairs and to their bedroom. Killian was grateful Henry was staying the night with a friend so he wouldn’t wake to hear her shrieks of feigned distress now, or the filthy demands that poured from her in the hour that followed. Gods knew they tried their best to keep quiet when they weren’t alone, but it was freeing to hear his wife’s unrestrained passion as he worked her up time and again.

Both sated and on the edge of sleep, Killian basked in the pearlescent glow of Emma’s sweat-slicked skin in the moonlight. It was entrancing, the way her magic often shimmered like this, following the path of his hand as he traced little patterns across her skin. She hummed as if in thought, turning and brushing her lips across his. “Y’know,” she mumbled, “that blanket would go a lot quicker with a much larger hook…” His silver hook appeared suddenly in her hand and he shook his head at the impossible woman who had somehow chosen him.

“You, my love, are a goddess of mischief.” He set the hook aside, pulling her close and curling himself around her. “There will be no using the legendary weapon of Captain Hook to make a bloody blanket. Now, sleep Swan. It’s far too late already.” She mumbled something that sounded awfully like we’ll see about that, and both drifted off in the comfort of one another’s arms

#love4teamhook #captain swan #cs fluff #cs fanfics #emma swan #killian jones #domestic fluff

[sailtoafarawayland]

Entwined: Family Outtakes Ch. 2

Summary: An outtake that centers around some worries and family feels for Hook and Emma as they confront something we all must at some point, and the first appearance of Hope Swan-Jones in our little universe. 

Rating: All chapters range G - T (to be safe)

AO3 - FF

For @teamhook

Chapter Two: Falling Behind

Bleariness clouded Emma's vision as she woke, eyelids blinking away the late morning sunlight that streamed through the window and lit the soft whites and creams of their bedroom. She rolled the kinks from her neck and stretched, enjoying the crisp coolness of the sheets against her sleep warmed skin.

She must have overslept – the house was uncharacteristically quiet for a Sunday, and even though it had been years since Storybrooke had been disrupted by anything more villainous than teenage rebellion, something about the peacefulness pushed her into abrupt wakefulness. She lurched upright in bed, snatching her robe from the back of the door and wrapping it around herself as she stepped into the hallway.

The sound of something sizzling in the kitchen soothed any immediate worry, but still, she peeked into Hope's room to make sure everything looked normal – her comforter made and folded neatly below the pillows, as it always was when either of her dads oversaw the morning routine. It was definitely a far cry from when Emma was in charge and the entire wad of blankets and sheets was left knotted at the foot of the bed, a tangle-haired little girl hopping up and down on one foot while pulling on socks and trying to brush her teeth.

She let the smell of bacon lead her quickly down the stairs, the floors cool against her bare feet. Her eyes caught the clock and she frowned – it was earlier than she expected her husbands to be back and making breakfast on a Sunday. Usually they were somewhere between Granny's and the docks with Hope until at least nine.

“Hey,” she murmured, coming around the corner into the kitchen and seeing Hook bent over the stove, the last pieces of bacon dropping onto a paper towel lined plate from the fork in his hand, neither Killian nor Hope anywhere in sight. “Just us this morning?”

“Aye,” he smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes in the way that Emma loved.

“What's wrong?” she asked, concern rising up the back of her throat as she moved behind him, standing on her tiptoes and resting her chin on his shoulder, her arms encircling his waist – taking what reassurance she could from his solid presence.

“Everything's fine,” he insisted, his smile broadening as he flicked off the stove and dropped the fork beside the spread of bacon and eggs, turning in her arms and pressing a kiss to the top of her hair before meeting her eyes. “I just thought today I'd stay in and take care of breakfast. Killian and the wee lass should be back from 'pirate practice' soon enough.”

“Well, I'm glad you're here,” Emma teased, her hands traveling along his sides and sweeping upward to find the open edges of his button down, her fingers curling around the fabric and settling in his generous chest hair, silver and dusky against his tan skin, “and I'm not gonna lie, bacon that's already made is a bonus too.”

She pressed her toes against the cool floor and sought his lips, humming against them when she tasted the salty sweetness of maple bacon.

“Look's like someone was stealing pieces out of the pan again.”

“Pirate,” he reminded her, his brace and fingers pulling her more firmly against his chest as his mouth slanted hungrily over her own, their tongues rolling together with practiced ease – what Emma had intended to be a lazy, morning kiss stoking that familiar need in them both.  

He backed her insistently against the kitchen table, fingers tugging at the drawstring of her robe as she pushed into him, thoughts of breakfast fading as she considered the other things they could be doing on the table, but her movements stopped suddenly when the press of her hand against his shoulder was met with a hiss of pain. Hook stepped back from her, his own fingers moving to soothe the hurt she hadn't known was there.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

“No,” he sighed, an edge to his voice that she didn't often hear. “Simply a stiff neck this morning, love.”

“I'm sorry,” she faltered, wanting to simply place her palm against his hurt and make it disappear, her intention clear enough in her face that he pulled back, taking her hand in his own and giving it a squeeze. “You should have woken me up. I can just – ”

“No, Emma, it's fine. I can't have you –” he paused, placing a breath of a kiss against her knuckles, looking for all the world as if he wanted to pull her into his arms again, but was afraid of what moving too swiftly might do. “Perhaps I'll just set the table and the strain will work itself out on its own.”

Letting her hand fall back to her side, she watched as he crossed the kitchen and opened the cabinet, pulling out plates for the four of them.

“Is that why you didn't go with Hope and Killian to the docks?”

It had become something of a longstanding tradition for Hope, Sunday morning with her dads. They would stop at Granny's hot cocoa and then take in the cool sea air, some mornings spent sharing stories and others spent sparring – something their daughter lovingly referred to as 'pirate practice', all three of them armed with blunt wooden swords.

It was the first time she'd ever seen Hook miss one.

The plates clinked against the table as he sat them down heavily.

“Aye,” he rumbled, fingers scratching behind his ear before running through his mop of hair, the black holding much more silver now than it had six years earlier when he'd tumbled into their lives and hearts.

“You know that Hope doesn't care how she spends time with you. You're her father. That's all that matters. She just wants to be with you, whether you're swinging a sword or not,” Emma pointed out softly, watching him carefully as his jaw tightened, insecurity warring with what he knew in his heart. It wouldn't be the first time that Emma had seen it – the way he'd started frowning at himself in the mirror, silently mourning the slow march of grey across his head and scruff. “It doesn't make a difference to any of us.”

“It makes a difference to me, Emma,” he ground out, turning abruptly and gripping the edge of the counter as he stared unseeingly out the window into the yard beyond.

“Jones,” she sighed, closing the distance between them and pressing her body to his back, feeling every tight cord of tension running through him, “Killian...”

She didn't call him Killian often – the three of them had decided early on that it was simply too confusing for everyone – that Jones would do, or Hook – but every now and then Killian would slip from her lips when he needed to be called back to them, when he needed reminding of who he was and who they both saw and loved.

He exhaled heavily, letting his worries fall from his lips as he relaxed into her.

“I know it doesn't make a difference to our little girl, Emma, but...this was the first morning that I woke and truly felt the age that I see in the mirror – and then I watched Hope bound down the porch with her sword already swinging, Killian at her heels and I just...I don't want to fall behind. I feel like I'm falling behind.”

“Hey,” she murmured, urging him around to face her, palm against his rough jaw, “that's not possible. We're family. We're in this together, and that won't ever change – whether you're running after her or not. One day she isn't going to want sword fights and treasure hunts, or someone to draw a smiley face on her pancakes with whipped cream – she's gonna want a shoulder to cry on when her heart gets broken...”

A low growl hummed in the back of his throat, his jaw twitching beneath Emma's fingers at the thought of anyone hurting his little girl.

“...or someone who can look over her shoulder when she paints and tell her just the right shades of purple and red to use for a sunset. We're all gonna get older and change, but that doesn't mean anyone is falling behind – we'll just be moving on to new adventures...together.”

“And what of us, Emma? Five years from now when there's only gray hair and wrinkles, when I've grown softer than I used to be, what will you and Killian think then?”

“None of that is going to change how much I want you, how much I love you...” her fingers found the place where his heart was beating solidly in his chest, pressing firmly and reminding him of just how they'd gotten here. “None of that is going to change how much Killian loves you.”

“Aye,” he murmured, fingers looping with hers as they both remembered the fear that day had carried – the day they put an end to his curse entirely – all of it washed away by hope and love and leaving them standing here. “You'll have to forgive the insecurities of an old pirate, darling.”

“Our pirate,” she chided. “Besides, did you want me any less after I'd added a few more stretch marks to my stomach and my hips got wider – when my boobs sagged a little more after years of nursing?”

“Your breasts, Emma, are still perfect works of art,” Hook promised, looking affronted at the mere notion that they were any less beautiful than they'd once been.

In fact, he loved them all the more for having watched her nurture and care for their child, feeding her through the long hours of the night and comforting her when the trials of the day were simply too much for a little one to stand. That type of love – a mother's love – it was something Alice had never known as a baby, and he worshiped his wife a little more each day for having given that gift to Hope. There wasn't a mark left on her body that he didn't cherish, that wasn't a reminder of the depth of her heart.

To him, she was a goddess.

“If you can still look at me and see beauty in all these stretch marks – then you can't doubt it's the same when we look at you – and some more gray hair and a rum belly won't change that, not ever.”

“Well, let's not allow things to deteriorate to that point, shall we?” Hook muttered, his cheeks reddening at the remembrance of Emma's story – of her meeting with aging Captain who no longer existed, a future that he'd thankfully avoided by following the Seer's advice and seeking out a small town called Storybrooke, a town that held not only the promised end of his curse, but the rest of his happiness for days to come.

“I'm just saying,” Emma whispered, her fingers dragging along his skin as she pressed the smile of her lips to his own, “it still wouldn't matter, Jones.”

He swallowed her surprised gasp as his hand slipped into the loosened folds of her robe, calloused palm glancing along the warmth of her skin before the sound of the door flying inward had them both pulling apart – the stillness of the house shattered by the return of their yet-to-be-tired-out daughter.

“Hope,” Emma sighed, tightening her robe and turning just in time to catch the tornado of long, dark locks and flailing limbs running headlong into her arms, barely leaning her head out of the way in time to keep from getting whacked with an errant wooden sword. “What have I said about not throwing the door open? You're gonna break it down one of these days.”

“And you know the rule about swords in the house, my love,” Hook reminded her, plucking the wooden toy from her hands and placing it on the counter. “Now, where's Dad? Did he make it home, or is he still outside bemoaning the loss you surely handed him?”

“Let's not be hasty – I wouldn't go so far as to call it a loss,” Killian insisted, stepping through the door and easing it closed behind him, his own wooden sword dropping into the umbrella stand near the entrance. “Our little lass put to use some very impressive evasive maneuvers – quite insistent on hurrying home this morning.”  

“Did she now?” Hook laughed, “and what could have been the cause of that?”  

“We missed you, Papa,” Hope explained, reaching out and squirming until Hook plucked her out of Emma's arms, jogging her into a seat on his hip. “And bacon.”

“Ah, now we get to the truth of the matter,” he murmured, placing a lingering kiss on their daughter's curls, nearly as dark as he and Killian's, though her face was the tiny, spitting image of Emma. “I suppose it's a good thing I made bacon then – because I missed you as well.”

“It was a quiet morning without you,” Killian added, still shucking his jacket as he met Emma's cheek with a kiss and then leaned over their daughter to brush his lips against Hook's as well. “Despite this one being up well before the sun, I seem to have failed at running her ragged even in the slightest – we'll have to take her out for some more sparring this afternoon.”

“Aye, that we will.”

“That all sounds great,” Emma agreed, grabbing the abandoned stack of plates and placing them down neatly in front of the chairs at the table, “but I woke up to the smell of bacon and still haven't gotten to eat any – so let's make plans after breakfast, sound good?”

“Aye aye, Captain!” Hope yelled, her words devolving into a stream of giggles that she buried in Hook's chest as both her fathers protested that Emma certainly didn't hold the qualifications to captain a ship.

“Mama's captain of the house – the house!” their daughter squealed, trying desperately to bat away Killian's fingers as he tickled her sides, eventually settling for throwing herself out of Hook's arms and running to the other side of the kitchen, the table a staunch line of defense against any further onslaught. “I've heard her say it, so it's true,” she insisted, blue eyes glimmering with the type of conviction only a four-year old can muster.

“Well, you must be right then, lass,” Killian relented, raising his hand and hook in surrender before pulling out a chair. “Now, come, sit and eat – before the Captain has us all walk the plank. You know how grumpy your mum gets when she's hungry.”

“I do not get grumpy,” Emma growled playfully, the mock indignation in her voice doing nothing to quell the smile lines around her mouth or the soft crinkle at the corners of her eyes.

Hope jumped into the seat Killian had pulled aside for her, eyebrows raised halfway toward her hairline as she watched Hook carry over the plates filled with fresh eggs and bacon, her feet kicking the underside of the chair in a steady rhythm.

“Can we go to the park this afternoon?” she asked, two pieces of bacon already gripped tightly in her small hand before any of her parents had even noticed her snatch them from the plate. “I want to have a treasure hunt.”

“Of course we can,” Hook smiled, sitting down and watching as their daughter munched happily on her bacon, his gaze drifting to Killian as he doled out eggs and Emma as she made her own plate, stealing some bacon from the pile that had somehow doubled in size on Hope's plate.

Emma's eyes lifted, meeting his own over the table – her green gaze so filled with warmth and love that he immediately felt foolish for the fear that had overtaken him that morning, for thinking that something so simple as time could ever make them drift apart, could somehow make them less than what they were and had always been destined to be – a family.

END

Tagging: @justanother-unluckysoul @kmom0f4 @the-darkdragonfly @teamhook @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight @tiganasummertree @pirateprincessofpizza @lfh1226-linda @alexa-fangirl-forever @alifeofdreams @superchocovian @donteattheappleshook @hollyethecurious @caught-in-the-filter @snowbellewells @itsfabianadocarmo @stahlop

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#Captain Swan #CS fic #cs fanfic #sailtoafarawayland #entwined #love4teamhook #emma swan #killian jones #wish hook #hope swan jones

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

A Visit with Marco's Home for Lost Boys by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Read on AO3 or FF

This extra chapter to my completed fic Marco's Home for Lost Boys is dedicated to Alma (@teamhook) I hope this fluffy little addition to this finished story brings a smile to your face and happiness to your heart. Even in the darkness, a little light can bring you joy.

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly

A Happy Beginning

“Henry, can you make sure that Hope has her sun hat, I don’t want her to get burned on the water.”

“Sun hat, sun hat, want sun hat henny.” The little girl came bounding through the back door, a trail of dust flying behind her as the small puppy jumped up and down with muddy paws against the teetering toddler.

“Hope, what did you get into?” Emma exclaimed. The girl’s face was covered in dirt, her white dress stained with paw prints across the front.

“Found cheasure.” She beamed.

“Hope, your dress is ruined.” She groaned and the little girl frowned.

“Got daddy cheasure.” She whined, holding up a small bottle, dirt adhering to the edges of it as her wet fingers clung to the bottle as if it were the most priceless item she had ever owned.

“I see that, but I told you not to get dirty in your dress.” Emma scolded as Killian returned through the front of the house.

“Daddy.” The little girl’s face brightened as she wrestled out of Emma’s grasp, advancing on Killian, and jumping up into his outstretched arms.

“There’s my girl. What have you got there? Is that treasure?” The girl nodded excitedly, pushing the bottle into his hands. “For me? It’s amazing little one, I’ll cherish it forever.”

Emma rolled her eyes as she stood, the sight of her husband and their daughter easing her frustration. “She won’t be able to wear her dress today.”

“Daddy didn’t like this dress anyway.” He whispered against the little girls’ golden curls. “I think she’d look better in the blue one.”

“But we picked out the white one especially for today.”

He walked toward her, leaning over, and kissing her cheek as he cradled the toddler against his side. “And I told you that I don’t care what she wears, so long as you are all there, so it’s going to be fine. Besides, the blue one will match her eyes.”

“Don’t use the pretty blue eyes thing against me. I know how you work.”

“Do you now, love?” His own ocean blue eyes glinted in the light, a playful smile crossing his lips. He brushed them against her own, heat splaying across her cheeks.

“Cheater.” She whispered against his mouth.

“Pirate.” He responded with a smirk.

“Daddy piwate.” Hope giggled between them.

“Eww, are you two kissing again?” They turned to see Henry enter the room with Hope’s hat in his hand, two small boys following closely behind him.

Killian stepped away from her, Hope still on his hip. “One day you’ll understand why, son.” Killian winked at the older boy, then tousled the small boy’s hair beside him. “You want to help me find the blue dress for Hope?”

“Do I have to wear this jacket?” The boy fussed.

Killian glanced over his shoulder and Emma narrowed her eyes. “Only until the ceremony is done, Leo, then I promise you can put it in the back of the truck and never wear it again.” He whispered the last part and Emma rolled her eyes. The boy hollered in excitement and followed Killian to the back of the cabin.

“You both ready to go?” Emma watched as Henry snapped the last button on Roland’s jacket.

“Everything is ship shape, Mom.” Henry replied. “You worry too much; you know that right?”

“Who said I’m worried?”

He chuckled. “I’ve known you for over four years now, any time you worry about something, you bite your lip, and your eyebrows do that thing.”

“What thing?” She laughed, reaching up to touch her eyebrow.

“The wavy thing where you look like you’ve been thinking too long.”

“I’m not nervous, I’m just anxious. I want everything to go right today. This is a big deal for your dad and the family today.”

“I know and everything is going to be fine.”

She wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulder and pulled him to her as he groaned when she planted kisses against his cheek and forehead. “Come on Mom, no more kisses. I’m too old for that”

“You’re never too old for my kisses.”

“I want kisses!” The smaller boy whined, and Emma scooped Roland into her arms and planted her lips on his cheek.

“Hey now, why am I missing out on all this family love?” Killian entered the room, their daughter skipping happily beside him in her favorite blue dress, Leo following quietly behind.

“No more kissing.” Henry demanded as he pulled away, scooping Hope into his arms, and stepping out of the family circle. “We’re going to be late if we don’t get out of here anyway.”

Emma smoothed down her dress and brushed the strands of her hair behind her ears. Looking over her family, she surveyed each of them to ensure they were all ready to leave. Her heart swelled with happiness as she watched her husband standing there, their children gathered around him at his feet. They had been blessed beyond comparison when Henry arrived on their doorstep. After Hope was born, Henry helped change diapers, fed her bottles, read her stories, and quickly became part of the family.

After they found out who his stepmother was, the woman he had run away from the night he came to live with them, Emma knew they could never let him go back to the life he tried to escape. Marco’s Home for Lost Boys was reinstated, and Killian and Emma began their quest to honor the man who had saved them both by continuing his legacy.

A couple years later, Leo turned up in the neighboring town while Leroy was on a fishing expedition. He knew immediately that the boy would find a home with the Jones family and before they knew it, their family had grown again.

Six months later, Roland was turned in to the police station in the middle of the night with just a note stating that the parents were unable to take care of the boy and knew that there was a family that would take in lost children in town. Emma had a full home and a husband who was determined to ensure that every child that stayed with them felt like they were loved just as much as Marco had loved them.

“Ok, I think we look presentable.” She said with a grin. “We’d better go before David starts texting us asking where we are.”

Killian glanced at his phone. “You’re about ten minutes too late for that.”

Emma laughed and pushed her family out the door toward their truck, buckling the kids into their seats as Henry jumped in between her and Killian in the front.

“Who’s ready for a new adventure?” Killian announced as he started the truck.

“Daddy piwate venture.” Hope cheered.

“Yes, Daddy is taking us on a Pirate adventure.” Emma glanced at her husband who smiled in her direction. The man was a marvel to look at even after all their years together. He was the only man she had known who could make her stomach flutter with butterflies and her knees weak with anticipation simply from a glance or a smile. The sunlight was shining on his face, flecks of grey were sprinkled throughout the hair on his chin. He was older, more mature, yet still the same fierce man who had protected her from harm all those years ago.

“What’s in that head of yours?” He questioned as he pulled her from the truck twenty minutes later. “You were quiet on the drive over.”

The corners of her mouth turned upward, “Was just thinking about how sexy you look with all that grey hair coming in.” She ran her fingers through his soft hair.

“Even with all the years, I’ve still maintained my youthful glow.” He winked.

“You still turn me on.” She whispered as he closed the door. He turned toward her quickly, a glimpse of longing in his eyes.

“Do I now? Perhaps tonight you can show me exactly how much.” She started to walk away when he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest and nuzzling his nose into her neck. “Did I mention you look gorgeous in this dress?”

“You did not, but I am very glad you noticed.” She giggled.

“Mommy, Roland won’t stop hitting me.” Leo tugged on her dress and Emma bent down and scooped the boy into her arms.

“Did you tell him that wasn’t nice?”

“No, I kicked him.” Emma narrowed her eyes, trying not to laugh.

“Well, that’s not how we solve things, Leo.”

Killian patted the boy on the head. “Next time, try asking nicely first. If he doesn’t stop, then come get one of us.” The boy nodded and Killian reached into the truck and pulled Hope to his side and Emma stepped toward the harbor to join the rest of the boys.

“There you are! Dave’s been going on for ten minutes about how late the two of you are for everything.” Will approached them, reaching out and pulling Leo from her arms. “Go, before he drives everyone insane.”

Emma chuckled and rushed forward with Killian and Hope, making their way to the bottom of the pier. David saw them as soon as they turned the corner and darted toward them. “It’s about time, you weren’t making more children were you.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Killian teased and Emma smacked him lightly on the shoulder.

“You know it takes a while to get all these kids ready to do anything.”

“The press is already here. Graham is on board, August, Arthur, and Robin are already in place on deck.”

“Alright, Will is bringing all the kids down now.” She turned and watched as Will skipped and ran with the boys, laughing as they made their way down the pier.

“Alright, I’ll see you guys up there.” David turned and walked up the plank to the ship. She turned toward Killian and reached out to take her daughter from him.

“Are you ready for this?”

He bit his lip, looking up at his ship docked at the pier in front of him. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” His eyes were back on hers and it caused her heart to skip at the emotion she saw there.

“We’re a team, right?”

“Aye, I love you.”

She leaned up, planting her lips on his. “I love you too.”

He reached out and took her hand once Will had retreated up the plank with the boys. They walked up the plank together, overwhelmed by the amount of people already standing on the deck when they reached the top. There were cameras everywhere, and they were ushered to the bow of the ship. Emma stood off to the side when Graham gestured for Killian to join him.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, it appears our guest of honor has arrived.” Graham announced and the cameras turned toward them, and the crowd began to hush. “We are here today as Killian Jones takes on a new role in the town of Storybrooke.” He gestured to Killian who stepped up to the mic, putting his hand on the bible in front of him.

"I do solemnly swear that I am duly qualified, according to the constitution of this state, to exercise the duties of the office to which I have been elected and that I will, to the best of my ability, discharge the duties thereof, and preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of this state and of the United States.

As Mayor of the City of Storybrooke, I will equally, fairly, and impartially, to the best of my ability, and skill, exercise the trust reposed in me, and will use my best endeavor to preserve the peace and carry into effect according to law, the purposes for which I have been elected, So help me God."

Emma clapped loudly as he finished his line, Hope bouncing excitedly on her hip. “Daddy.” The girl squealed. Emma was so proud of her husband. He had come so far in the last few years, doing everything he could to put his past behind him and ensure that everything he did going forward would make his family proud.

Killian shook the Sheriff’s hand and turned back toward the cameras. “I wanted to take a few moments today, to recognize the reason I’m here today. None of this would have been possible without one man. Marco meant a lot to many of the people here today. Without his love, compassion, and guidance so many of us wouldn’t have had a home, or a family…” He paused and looked at her. “So many of us would have been lost, never finding the love we deserved.”

He turned away, and she wiped the tears from her eyes. “My wife, Emma and I took over the home that took us in so long ago, and we’ve welcomed many lost boys since those doors opened. My father would be proud to know that his legacy still lives on. Because of Marco, I have a family, a wife, children, and hope.”

Her daughter squealed upon hearing her name and Emma quieted the girl on her hip.

“We stand today at the helm of my newest ship, The Jolly Roger, a ship by the same name once held memories of a very dark time in my life, but today, I hope it will bring light to all who board her. Today, we are opening our doors to a new adventure, a ship where children young and old can come and have their own pirate adventure, learn to sail, search for treasure, and find their happy ending.”

He gestured to Will who pulled Belle with him to stand beside his brother. “My brother Will and his wife Belle have signed on to Captain this vessel. I know they will do our father proud as they bring happiness and joy to the children who come seeking adventure.”

Killian gestured to David on the other side of the deck. “In partnership with Marco’s Childhood Adventures run by my brother David and his wife Mary Margaret, they will be covering the cost of the adventure for needy children near and far.”

Cheers erupted all around them and Killian once again shook the hand of the Sherriff.

“Most of all, I couldn’t have accomplished any of this without my beautiful wife, and my first mate, Emma Jones. Without her, this ship is just a few planks of wood, but with her by my side, we have created a life that is worth living, and worth sharing with others.” He stepped back toward her. “Congratulations Mayor Jones.” She grinned as Hope lunged toward her father.

“Want daddy.” She cried and Killian pulled her into his arms.

“Then daddy you shall have little one.” Emma felt her heart flutter again as she watched the two of them on the deck of the ship, Hope taking shaky steps as she held her father’s hand and they walked along the planks of the ship. Emma was reminded of her childhood when Killian held her hand and walked her out of the shipping crate he had found her in. She had been scared and unsure of who to trust, but Killian had enough trust for them both.

Just as he stood with his daughter, their hands intertwined as he pointed out at the ocean in front of them, she could see the boy she fell in love with. The boy who never stopped believing in her, who always protected and loved her. The man who had become her world.

“So, did you tell him yet?”

Emma jumped as Will approached her, putting an arm around her shoulder. “Tell him what?”

He rolled his eyes and pulled her closer. “That he needs to buy a new truck.” Emma elbowed him in his side, and he pulled away from her with a laugh.

“No. Today is his day. I want it to be about him and Marco.”

“Emma, you’ve known for two weeks now. What are you waiting for?”

“I don’t know. I mean, so much is going on. He’s Mayor now, and the ship is finally taking off, and good Lord Will, we already have four kids at home.” She bit her lip with worry.

“Sis, it’s Killian, the two of you love children. He’s going to be bloody ecstatic with the news.”

“You really think so?”

“If he didn’t want any more kids, he’d stop doing that thing that causes them.”

“Very funny!” Emma chided. “I could say the same for you. Belle was positively glowing during the press conference.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. We don’t behave in that way.” He said with a wink as he wandered back toward his wife, his hand absentmindedly resting against her slightly swelling stomach.

Emma pressed a hand to her own, feeling a bit queasy on the bow of the ship. She didn’t know why she hadn’t told Killian yet that she was expecting. It had been quite the shock to her when the doctor told her the news. She had thought she had a bit of the stomach flu when she went in to see Dr. Whale. Finding out she was pregnant was a bit overwhelming with everything else that was going on. There would be five kids in their home. Five truly loved children, of course, but it was still five children.

“Mom, I think we are going to Granny’s for dinner…” Henry paused as he watched her. “Are you alright?”

Emma leaned against the ship to steady herself. “Yeah, I’m fine, just not feeling my sea legs today.” She joked. “Perhaps you could help me back down the ramp.” Henry held out his arm and she walked beside him down the plank until she was back on solid ground and her head stopped swimming.

“You sure you’re alright, Mom? I know it’s been a busy day. You seem tired. Do you want me to tell dad we need to go home?”

“No, I just need to eat something.” They walked quietly toward the car. “Henry…” She paused. “You’re happy here right? I mean, when we took you in, it was just us and now we have Roland and Leo and…”

“Mom, I have the best life anyone could ever have. I never had a family before I met you. Now I get to play on a pirate ship and be a big brother to three exuberant but happy kids, and I have a dad who would do absolutely anything for me, and a mom who never lets me forget that I’m loved. I wouldn’t change anything about my life.”

Emma smiled softly, “I’m so happy you found us, Henry.”

“Me too, mom.”

Once they got to Granny’s, Emma made her way around the room, interacting with the people who had come to celebrate. She caught up with August and Arthur, who had returned for the swearing in, reminding them that they needed to visit more often. She approached Robin, turning toward his wife Regina. “How does it feel to be retired?”

The woman laughed. “I’ll miss the job, but I think Killian will do a better job than I did.”

“So, what now?”

“I’m putting her to work at the bar.” Robin announced and Regina only giggled.

“I told him I would do it, if I got free drinks.”

“I don’t think she realizes how good a deal I got out of this.” As they kissed, her attention was drawn to the booth in the corner where Killian was sitting with their daughter. He had a pile of whipped cream on his nose, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he teased Hope beside him. She excused herself and made her way toward the man, watching as his daughter grabbed ahold of the cream, slipping the mess into her mouth, and sucking the cream from her fingers.

“What’s going on over here?” She said as she sat down across from them.

“Daddy silly, I ticky.”

“Yes I see this.” She reached across the table and wiped the rest of the whipped cream from his nose.

“Ticky daddy, wash.”

“Are your hands sticky, love?” He took her hands in his and wet the cloth in front of him, wiping her hands clean. “All better, beautiful?”

“Daddy hero.” She beamed; her face glowing as she stared up at her father.

“Did you ever think this would be our life?” Emma asked suddenly.

Killian turned toward her, his smile still on his face from looking at his daughter. “Did I ever think that my daughter would call me her hero while my beautiful wife looked on adoringly? Not in a million lifetimes.”

“Do you regret any of it?”

“Never. If we didn’t go through what we did, we might never have gotten to where we are.”

She reached across the table and held his hand, watching as his daughter played with the prosthetic on his other wrist. Killian never let his handicap stop him from accomplishing anything. He had never wallowed in self pity when they came out of the nightmare that caused it. He had faced everything with her as a challenge to overcome. And they had overcome everything together.

“Remember what happened after Henry’s softball game a couple of months ago?”

Killian pushed a mouthful of food into Hope’s mouth. “Not particularly, you know how excited I get at those things. I always get worked up at the umpires.”

“Right, but remember when Henry hit that home run and you kept telling everyone that it was your boy that won the game?”

“Of course, crowning achievement of the year. I was very proud.”

“And very excited.” She whispered. “If you remember…” She leaned forward, “Under the bleachers.”

He held his hand over his daughters’ ears. “Not in front of the lass, love.” She laughed and he removed his hands before he smirked. “But of course, I remember that day. It had been a while since I remember you cursing like that, pretty sure I accomplished a record that day…” he held up three fingers and Emma remembered that he was able to bring her to orgasm three times in such a small span of time as the two of them raced like children tearing off just enough clothes to allow him to enter her in the small space under the bleachers.

“Yes, you did.” She said, feeling her cheeks warm. He still made her feel like a teenager, no matter how old they got.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what brought on that trip down memory lane, love?”

Hope giggled beside him and Killian leaned over to blow a kiss against the girl’s neck which elicited a loud squeal. “Marco would be proud of you.” She said with a smile which caused him to sit up and stare at her.

“You think?”

���I know. You’re an amazing father, you’re going to be the best Mayor this town has ever had, you make me happier than I ever could have hoped, and you are carrying on his legacy.”

“I’m only being the man I know how to be, the man he raised me to be.”

“Even if it means that our house is full, and we never get alone time?” She laughed.

“I prefer to think of it as a challenge.” He winked.

“It’s about to get a lot more challenging.” She said with a serious sigh.

“Emma, we have three boys and a toddler running around the house, how could it ever get more challenging than that?” She bit her lip and he paused. “Wait…are you saying…” She closed her eyes and scrunched her nose. “You’re…” When she opened her eyes, his were as big as saucers. “Emma, are you pregnant?”

She nodded nervously as she held his eye contact. “I didn’t want to ruin the celebration for you, but…”

“A baby.” He said softly, sitting back against the seat.

“Baby.” Hope announced loudly. “Momma baby.”

Emma lunged forward to push another spoon of food into the girl’s mouth as people were starting to stare in their direction.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m more than ok, I mean, we’re gonna need to get one of those ridiculous minivan’s or something because we aren’t all going to fit in the truck anymore but…”

Emma snorted and he looked at her in confusion. “I’m sorry, but I’m just picturing you driving a minivan.”

“I beg your pardon; I’ll have you know that I’ll be the sexiest dad at the school drop off you’ve ever seen.”

“Baby. I, baby.” Hope squealed.

“Yes, love, you’re the baby.” Killian teased his daughter, tugging at her curly blonde locks before turning back to face her. “Are you ok with this?” He asked her seriously.

She nodded. “I am, I love our children, all of them, and I love you more than I’ve loved anyone in my entire life.”

“You know Henry and I were going to build a tree house in the back yard this summer. Might be a fun project to get all the kids out of the house for a bit.”

“The boys will love that.”

“I want tee house too.” Hope complained.

“Of course, love, when you are bigger.”

“I am big.” She pouted.

“You are, but you need to watch over mommy, you’re going to be a big sister now.”

“Mommy baby.” The little girl repeated while clapping her hands.

“Do you think the boys are going to be upset that there’s going to be another baby in the house?” Emma asked with concern.

“I think the boys are going to love the baby as much as they love you, as much as I love you.” He smiled, reaching out and taking her hand.

As they made their way back to the cabin that evening, thoughts, and excitement running through her brain, she tucked her children in to each of their beds, kissed their heads, and shut the door to their rooms. When Killian closed the door opposite her to Hope’s room, they met in the middle, his arms wrapping around her.

“We’re going to need to build onto this house if we keep growing this family.” He chuckled.

“I know, the boys are going to want their own rooms eventually.”

“Thankfully, we have a lot of brothers in town who are good for some free labor.”

“Did you know Henry has started writing?” Emma looked back at the door behind her. “I found a notebook on his bed while he was showering.”

“Aye, I think he has a crush on a girl at his school which has inspired his tale.”

“What? Who?”

“Violet.” Emma’s eyes grew large. “Don’t tell him I told you, it was not a mom discussion.” She reached up and pretended to press a key to her lips.

“Secret is safe with me. How is he getting so old already?” She followed him to their bedroom as they both began to undress for bed.

“The lad is growing like a weed.” He turned to face her, his hand resting on her stomach. “Perhaps it’s another lass?”

“Maybe, or a dashing pirate like his father.”

“I am dashing, aren’t I?” He teased, pushing her back toward the bed.

“You already got me pregnant, Mister.” She cooed as she scooted up on the bed, his body resting over hers as his mouth brushed against her jaw.

“We should make sure, can’t hurt to practice.” His hand ran up her thigh. “I remember last time you were pregnant that you really enjoyed it when I…”

“Oh…” She moaned softly when his hand hit the spot she needed him to touch. “I suppose it would be a good idea to practice, it has been a while since I was pregnant.” She chuckled as her hand fisted in the sheets.

“I’m honored to assist you in any way that I can.” He breathed against her thigh.

“I have such a talented husband.” She grunted when he hit the spot that had her biting her tongue, his name flowing from her mouth, she could feel him smirk as the scruff on his chin grazed her sensitive skin. “How did I get so lucky?”

He sat up on his elbows and placed a kiss on her stomach. “How did a lost boy and a little lost girl end up finding a happy ending together?”

“That’s not what this is, it’s something else.”

“What, then?” She pulled her husband toward her, his lips grazing hers as she murmured against his skin.

“A happy beginning.”

#love4teamhook #stacy's fics #marco's home for lost boys #killian jones #emma swan #captain swan #captain swan fics #captain swan au #captain swan modern au #for alma

[the-darkdragonfly]

{NEW} A Missing Moment: The Ripple Effect

A Missing Moment - Chapter 11: High Tide

For Alma ❤

* * *

“Have you burned down our house yet, Swan?”

Emma chose to ignore him, titling her chin higher to look down her nose at the next circular victim to be dropped into the fryer.

“Still angry, are we?” There was a smirk in his tone which she should have expected, and she could feel her resolve to stay ridiculously annoyed at him diminish as he pressed the cold tip of his nose behind her ear.

* * *

Read the rest here!

Confused? Read The Ripple Effect - A Captain Swan Tale here!

Tagging: (there's always room for more - let me know if you want to be added. xox)

@elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @sailtoafarawayland @teamhook @wefoundloveunderthelight @caught-in-the-filter @batana54 @ultraluckycatnd @veryverynotgood @veryverynotgoodwrites @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @jrob64 @kmomof4 @artistic-writer @gingerpolyglot @xarandomdreamx @xhookswenchx @justanother-unluckysoul @itsfabianadocarmo @zaharadessert @jadehowlettthewolf @xsjax @karlyfr13s @tiganasummertree @asluve @winterbaby89 @wyntereyez @klynn-stormz @onceratheart18 @rkrbirdgirl @ouatdaily @blowmiakisscolin @courtorderedcake @winterbaby89 @pirateprincessofpizza

Thank you to @donteattheappleshook for making this presentable!

#the ripple effect #a captain swan tale #the darkdragonfly #missing moments #they cant get home #so they're stuck in the past #but #they have each other #and they fall in love #and it's amazing #emma swan #killian jones #emma x hook #emma x killian #ouat #captain swan #love4teamhook

[veryverynotgoodwrites]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan, Captain Swan Characters: Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Emma Swan Additional Tags: Fluff, One Shot Summary:

A fluffy one shot for my dearest @teamhook

Yesterday, @karlyfr13s sent me a message on Discord with an idea to pull together members of our community to write a collection of short stories for @teamhook​ to offer her our love and support in any way we can during this season of her life. Within minutes, we had pulled together an impressive list of willing participants and started planning. This is her baby, and she deserves all of the credit.

It really goes to show you just how much @teamhook​ means to so many people in this fandom. You are a pillar to our community, and so many of us have the same story: we wouldn’t be writing if it weren’t for your constant love, support, and encouragement. I know it’s certainly true for me. I hope over the next few weeks these little fluffy offerings of words and art from all of us give you a bright spot in a challenging part of your life.

We love you more than we can express.

#love4teamhook #captain swan #cs ff #one shot #fluff #a little bit of angst but nothing stressful #we love you more than words can express #so here are some words to express it lol

[zaharadessert]

No Time To Hesitate

Summary: When Emma agrees to do Mary Margaret a favour she has no idea what she's in for. Luckily, it turns out better than she hoped.

Rating: T

Length: ~5,000 words

Notes: Thanks to @whimsicallyenchantedrose for betaing! Written for @teamhook. I hope you enjoy it my love and that it makes you smile!

Tagging: @jrob64 @xhookswenchx @kmomof4 @wefoundloveunderthelight @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @jonesfandomfanatic @tiganasummertree @onceratheart18 @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @itsfabianadocarmo

Also on AO3

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“Emma, you know that favour you owe me?” Mary Margaret said casually as they both sat at the breakfast bar one morning.

“You mean other than being your maid of honour?” she replied once she’d swallowed her mouthful of cereal.

“It’s for a good cause?” she tried tentatively.

“So, I take it you picked an idea for the school library fundraiser?” Emma asked, putting her bowl down on the counter.

“Actually, I picked several, but I only need you to help with this one event, I promise.”

There was a beat when Emma looked at her best friend’s wide-eyed pleading gaze and then she sighed in defeat.

“Fine, but if it turns out to be terrible, you owe me,” she said, poking her friend in the arm.

“Deal!” Her friend replied brightly, apparently unconcerned by the threat.

With everything else that happened over the next couple of months with Mary Margaret and David’s wedding, Emma almost completely forgot about her promised involvement with the fundraiser. She had Mary Margaret bachelorette (classy and refined, and no Ruby there will not be strippers) to organise. She’d had dress fittings for Mary Margaret as well as trying to organise the rest of the bridesmaids into some semblance of order and into the same damn dress.

At least that appointment had been more hilarious than the wedding dress appointment. Ava, Mary Margaret’s mother was… extremely picky, and while she’d ‘donated’ five thousand dollars to the dress budget she thought that meant she had the deciding vote. When Mary Margaret had been practically in tears begging her mother to let her get the dress she loved, Emma had to step in. It wasn’t a dress Emma wouldn’t have picked for herself, but she loved it on Mary Margaret. She suggested that the consultant take Mary Margaret back to the dressing room for a minute to think things over and come out in the dress she wanted and then turned on Ava. She’d told her that if Ava wasn’t going to get off her high horse, she could have her money back and get out and Emma would help her best friend pay for her dream dress. Leo, Mary Margaret’s father, had shot her a wink as he’d squeezed his wife’s hand. Emma had always thought they were a weird couple but somehow, they’d always made it work.

Emma had never been so lucky in love, and that had never really bothered her, but it had seen her moving back to her hometown and back in with her college room mate who had moved to the town to be with Emma’s adoptive brother, who was now the town Sherriff. That had been five years ago, and Mary Margaret and David were engaged about to be married, and Emma needed to find somewhere else to live…

Because there was no way in hell she was sharing a loft apartment with newlyweds.

It didn’t take living with newlyweds for lines to be crossed, apparently just being engaged for this long made them forget the boundaries Emma had set out.

It was great to see her brother and her best friend so happy but…

Emma was never going to eat tacos ever, ever again…

She was desperately hoping that she managed to find somewhere to live before more foods were rendered as no goes.

When February rolled around, Emma wondered how she had forgotten about the promise she’d made Mary Margaret five months ago. Admittedly she’d attended the Halloween fundraiser, and the Winter Wonderland fundraiser but because of the wedding she hadn’t had to do anything for them.

Apparently this one was not going to be such a breeze to get through.

“I agreed to what?” Emma blinked, convinced she’d misheard.

“Relax Emma, it’s just a bit of fun and you know how people in this town are, they’ll be talking about it for weeks even if nothing comes of it, and the more they talk about what you guys were willing to do for a fundraiser the more money we’ll get for the library!” She rambled with enthusiasm.

Emma took a deep breath.

“Just so we’re clear, you definitely owe me for this… Who in this town is single and willing to participate anyway?”

“Well, uh… several people, actually…” she said vaguely. “Graham, August, David’s friend who joined the Navy, Robin, and he’s bringing a friend to fill in a gap because I had someone drop out.”

A week later, Emma felt a little uncomfortable, having donned a dress she only used to use for honeytraps at Mary Margaret and Ruby’s insistence. At least they’d picked one that she could wear a bra under, which made her feel less exposed, and of course she’d picked her best bra so that her boobs looked amazing. She’d curled her hair and done her makeup like she’d barely bothered with in years and yes, so maybe the dress was a little snugger than it had been the last time she wore it, but she felt good.

In fact, she felt damn hot.

She’d been surprised by some of the faces in the side room the girls were waiting in. Apparently, they weren’t supposed to see the guys until they walked in the room, so that it was a surprise. Emma had just rolled her eyes and followed Ruby through the door. There were a couple of people in particular that Emma had found herself avoiding over the last five years. Her brother’s ex, Katherine, who had at least parted ways with her brother amicably was in town for an extended visit and was just here for a bit of fun had come over to talk to her straight away. But Lily and Tamara had lingered on the other side of the room not looking her way.

Emma squeezed Ruby’s hand reassuringly and headed over.

“Look, this is a small town, and I know you guys are avoiding me as much as I’m avoiding you… but… can we act like actual adults for maybe the first time ever and forgive each other?” Emma tried.

Things had been said and accusations had been thrown, way back when. Before Emma had left for college the three of them and Ruby had been inseparable, but the summer before they all went their separate ways… things had exploded. Emma and Neal had been dating for years, the whole town expected them to have a high school sweetheart story like David’s parents had. And sure, David’s Dad hadn’t been perfect, but he had always tried and that was what counted. Suddenly, Neal had stopped trying, and two weeks later Emma had found out he’d slept with Lily while they were drunk and an afterparty Emma had declined attending because she had to volunteer at the station the next day.

Tamara had sided with Lily and Ruby had sided with Emma and the pair of them hadn’t spoken to either of the other two until a few years ago. Ruby had been unable to avoid them because she’d taken over running her grandmother’s diner, Emma had never held that against her.

Lily looked like she might actually cry, which for the resident tough chick of group was saying something.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, hugging Emma tightly for a moment before pulling away and dabbing at her eyes.

“He played us, and we should have taken it out on him instead of each other,” Emma said carefully. Lily had been drunk, and she had apologised, it was Neal who had been so nonchalant about it, saying that as Emma hadn’t been putting out he’d started looking elsewhere. “So, we’re here to have fun and talk to some ‘hunks’ for five minutes at a time huh?”

“Yeah, whatever this town has that classes as hunks anyway,” Lily scoffed. Clearly her hopes weren’t high either. But really Emma was here to get the kids of this town a better school library and she couldn’t believe how much it was going to cost.

Ten minutes later, after a lot of applause from the auditorium, David opened the door. “Are you ready ladies?” he called. There was a shuffling of feet, hair was checked, and skirts were tugged, or fluffed, or smoothed. “Regina, ready to meet the guy of your dreams?”

She let out a derisive laugh and headed over to the door, it seemed like all the women felt like they were being duped, especially the mayor. But she took David’s arm and let him guide her onto the stage to take her position outside her first booth. Katherine was next, then Anna, Ruby, Belle and Lily left Emma and Tamara alone in the room. She was fairly sure she was never going to get over Tamara’s involvement with the whole thing, but she was going to try and save her friendship with Lily all the same.

“Your turn, Emma!” David called with a grin and David rolled her eyes, letting David guide her out under the stage lights so old Emma was surprised they still worked. Maybe they should raise money for new lights for the Town Hall next?

Oh god, she’d been spending way too much time with Mary Margaret.

“Good luck, Emma,” David said, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he stopped outside door number two.

A moment or two later, Tamara was escorted to door number one.

“So ladies, you have five minutes, and once you’ve worked your way down to door number eight you head back up to door number one! Have fun, your time starts… NOW!” Mary Margaret shouted into the microphone.

Jesus, who gave that woman access to amplified sound? Emma thought as she stepped up to the door. She took a deep breath and opened it.

“Hey, beautiful,” greeted a familiar but enthusiastic voice.

“Hi Graham,” Emma said with a smile of her own as he stood up to pull her into a hug and give her a kiss on the cheek. Graham was the lead Park Ranger, having stepped down from being Sherriff a few years ago after a mental breakdown that had meant David taking over. “I’ve been wondering who else Mary Margaret roped into this. How have you been?”

“Well, I figured it was about time I gave life another try, and where better to start than meeting eight beautiful women in one night?” He asked with a smile and a playful wink.

They knew they weren’t going to match with each other at the end of the night, because they had tried too soon after his breakdown and her moving back to town for it to have a happy ending. But they’d become good friends, and Emma had grown to trust Graham. So, four minutes and thirty seconds later they had been chatting easily and parted with another hug.

Emma was secretly hoping to throw people off with their predictions so that no one won the prize and Mary Margaret had to concede that while plenty was raised this was kind of a terrible idea.

Behind door number three Emma found August, a childhood friend who’d gotten lost and got on a train and didn’t know where he’d come from and ended up in the system. When he’d eventually found his way home, Emma was invited to visit, which was when she’d met David, James, Ruth and Robert. Ruth and Robert had fallen in love with her, having found themselves unable to have any more children after the twins and always wanting a girl. She’d hadn’t been the tiny princess most would have wanted, but the spunky, teenage, blonde had made an impression. Ruth and Robert hadn’t rested until the adoption papers were signed.

So they’d spent a while catching up, mostly talking about August’s father and his carpentry business that August had mostly taken over.

Door number four revealed Victor Whale, a Surgeon at the local hospital. He was a bit of a creep, but not in a nasty way that made Emma’s skin crawl the way Neal’s dad had. He was just an overtly obnoxious flirt who went about it all the wrong way. He and Ruby had dated in the past but Ruby had called off their on again, off again insanity for good about six months ago. Still, he seemed to know nothing was going to happen and seemed content to try and make her laugh with increasingly ridiculous innuendos.

When Emma opened door five she was faced with a thoroughly miserable looking Neal who already had two bright red cheeks from where Ruby and Lily had obviously slapped him.

“Hey Ems, long time no see…” he said, standing to greet her.

“Yeah, there’s a reason for that… asshole…” she said and promptly kneed him in the groin.

A loud ‘ooooh’ rolled through the crowd as Emma stepped back out the door and slammed it shut, hard.

“I told her that was a bad idea, but apparently he insisted, and donated a few hundred dollars,” David murmured as he pulled Emma into a hug.

She took a deep breath and took a step back.

“Honestly, I’m fine, but tell her she owes me more than one. I’ve been trying not to assault people anymore.”

David laughed and kissed her on the forehead before heading back into the crowd.

Door number six revealed Robin, David’s friend from College who had joined the Navy and would be his best man at the wedding. Needless to say, they ended up chatting about a lot of wedding stuff for the five minutes they had.

Emma had laughed as she opened the seventh door. Will Scarlet was a local miscreant and had been since they were kids. Sure, he’d straightened up now, but there was just no way in Hell. She was starting to wonder what Mary Margaret was thinking, she wasn’t going to pick any of these men. It wasn’t like any of them were ugly, well except Neal, but he was rotten to the core and she was fairly certain none of the women here tonight were going to pick him.

Door eight was someone Emma hadn’t met before, who apparently ran a reindeer farm about five miles outside town and rarely made it in to do anything other than shop because he was the only person around to run the farm. He was a nice enough guy, smelled a little earthy maybe but he had his head on straight. If Mary Margaret was looking for someone Emma could take to the wedding as a plus one, she didn’t think she’d complain about Kristoff, but… She had a suspicion he’d already had his mind blown by someone he’d seen before.

So, she bid him goodbye, and headed back up the line to door number one. He was either going to be desperate, and glad his last visitor was wearing a tight dress and heels, or he was already going to have been swept of his feet by any of girls one through seven he’d already met that night. Still… she’d had fun, chatting and ‘getting to know’ six other men, started to patch things up with her ex best friend, and kneed her ex in the balls so even if this guy was a bust the night wasn’t a total loss.

“Are you ready for your final five minutes, ladies?” Mary Margaret called over the sound system. The crowd cheered. Emma had to wonder who the hell was interested in this rubbish.

“Bring it on,” she mumbled under her breath.

“In you go!”

Emma opened the door and was instantly sure there had been some mistake. He was already on his feet, and reaching for her hand, which he took and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“Pleasure to meet you, love, I’m Killian,”

“Emma,” she managed to mutter quietly.

“Sorry?” he asked. “Didn’t quite catch that?” he prompted, an encouraging, open smile that reached his eyes causing the corners of his full lips to quirk upwards into the moustache that completed the look of the respectfully but not overly maintained scruff lining his jaw. His eyes sparkled with mischief and Emma knew she was done for even if admitting it would mean she’d potentially never owe Mary Margaret another favour in her entire life.

She cleared her throat, “Emma, Emma Swan.”

“David’s sister?” She nodded. “Here, let me get your chair,” he said, moving to pull it back a little so that she could sit down easier and pushing it in as she sat down. It was only then that she realised he’d only gripped the chair with one hand and the other…

Emma took a breath. She’d heard about this guy. This was the friend of Robin’s who’d agreed to fill in at a weeks’ notice. Who’d been in the Navy with him but wasn’t anymore because…

“So, are you around for long? Mary Margaret said you’re a friend of Robin’s from the Navy?” she ventured cautiously.

“Aye, we served together, both Lieutenants under my brother as Captain, but I’ve been out a few years now, as you’ve probably noticed,” he said, tapping the prosthetic hand.

“I’m sorry, that must have been awful,” she said, with a frown creasing her forehead.

“What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger, as my brother used to say,” he deflected with a wry smile, though he glanced away for a moment. “Fucking stupid thing to say,” he mumbled.

“No, it’s alright… I take it he’s…”

“Dead, aye,” Killian replied quietly.

Without thinking, Emma shifted forward in her seat and placed her hands over his, taking the prosthetic the same as she did the normal one and Killian tensed. Emma felt the calloused fingers under hers and desperately ignored the clench in her gut at the thought of what those fingers might feel like in other places.

“I know what it’s like to lose people, David was never the same after James’ bike accident. But he sounds like he was a good man, and I’m sure he’d be proud of you. Tell me what other kinds of things he used to say?” she tried carefully, not wanting to upset Killian, but hoping that maybe… showing that she was interested to get to know even the parts he might sometimes struggle with would work in her favour. It was heavy going for a five minute first meeting but…

“That a man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets,” Killian replied easily, and the way he looked at her through his lashes with his blue eyes blazing at her and his thumb caressing the back of her hand had her swallowing and forcing a smile back onto her face as she blushed.

“I uh…” Emma stuttered, her mouth suddenly dry.

“Too much? I apologise,” he said quickly.

“No I… It’s okay, honestly,” she assured him. “I just… twenty minutes ago I was kneeing my high school cheating scumbag ex in the balls so… this is quite the turnaround.”

“A woman who knows how to take care of herself, I like it,” he said with a swipe of his tongue across the back of his teeth, Emma had to fight not to squirm as she wondered what he was imagining doing with that tongue.

“I used to be in bail bonds, thank you very much,” Emma informed him, straightening her spine a little.

“Oh really, what was your speciality?”

“Honey traps…” she said, leaning forward and squeezing her elbows together under her breasts to push them forward.

It was his turn to have to collect himself.

“I see…” he said, dragging his gaze back up to her face. “And I have to say… your ex is clearly an idiot who didn’t deserve you.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that,” she said with a soft smile.

“Anytime, love,” he said with a fresh grin on his face and an earnestness in his gaze that floored her in a different way to the salacious tongue was doing.

“So… do you call all the girls love and kiss them on the hand or…?” she asked, trailing off at the end of her question, not really sure what the other option was.

“Love, is… kind of a habit, but I can try to stop if it annoys you,” he offered, and Emma could tell it was a genuine one.

“No, I… kinda like it,”

He grinned.

“And that’s time, ladies, please exit the booths,”

“I don’t work that quick!” Came August’s loud protest from a couple of cubilcles down.

Emma snorted and then flushed furiously.

“It’s been a pleasure, Emma Swan,” he said, getting up to pull out her chair and leaving her with another kiss on her hand. “Thank you, for the best five minutes of my life.”

Emma raised an eyebrow.

“If that was the best five minutes of your life, I’ll blow your mind when I’m not being watched by an audience.”

Killian leaned in; his eyes darkened with desire at the promise in her words.

“I might have to hold you to that, Swan, if you don’t mind?” he said his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Emma had to force herself to step away.

“You should know, that if you’re playing me right now… I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use it…”

“And a knee you have very good aim with too I hear,” he replied immediately, his gaze never leaving hers.

Someone banged a fist on the door.

“We called time; did you lose your hearing too Jones?” David called.

Killian winced just a little, but it was enough for Emma to notice. She yanked open the door with a face like thunder and glared up at her brother.

“That was uncalled for David!”

He had the good sense to look sheepish.

“Sorry, Jones,” he said, his neck tinged pink with embarrassment.

“It’s fine, mate. Honestly,” he added, when Emma looked back at him. “Not that I don’t appreciate you coming to my defence, Swan,” he asked with a wink.

Emma rolled her eyes and stepped out of the booth, past David, who handed Killian a sheet of paper and shut the door again.

“Now the gentlemen have been given their scorecards, and the ladies are having theirs handed out now. You have the numbers one through ten available, each can be used only once, and you can leave spaces blank if you’d rather not give them a score.”

Emma nodded when she was handed her scorecard and turned to the table behind her.

She immediately wrote ‘I’d rather burn in hell for eternity’ on the dotted line next to Neal’s name.

She filled in the rest of her numbers with an amused smile, and wrote her own predictions down next to each guy for who she reckoned would score each of them a ten, just for her own amusement. She wasn’t cruel, but the fact was she’d only met one man tonight whom she had any interest in dating whatsoever.

She just had to hope her gamble paid off.

Once the cards were collected in, the ladies and gents were sent into their opposite rooms again to await the verdicts. At least now they were given sparkling wine to take the edge off, they’d only had water up until now.

The wait was soon up though, as David came to collect them all, and directed them to stand on the tiered rostra that had been set up on one side of the stage.

“Well, we are happy to announce a lot of potential matches tonight,” Mary Margaret said, beaming brightly as she took centre stage once more. “I’d like to take this opportunity to thank everyone for their donations and predictions and I am pleased to announce that the prize for the winner will be a Spa day for Two at the three Bears Day Spa, followed by dinner at Bella Notte Italian restaurant.”

The crowd clapped.

“Unfortunately, one of our men didn’t quite understand the scoring rules, so I’m afraid Neal Gold won’t be going home with anyone.”

Neal shouted something Emma didn’t quite hear, but there was a sudden commotion and suddenly he was laid out on the floor, and Killian was being held back by Robin. For a moment everyone stared.

David picked Neal up off the floor and escorted him off the stage.

“Apologies, everyone, the man has a rather foul mouth and he’s been saying some quite unpleasant things about our lovely ladies all evening. I’m afraid, I’d had enough.” He cleared his throat. “And we can all agree every single one of us who gets a match tonight is a lucky man, right?” he asked the crowd. There was a cheer and the tension Neal had caused was gone in a moment. He nodded politely at Mary Margaret who smiled and nodded back before turning back to the crowd.

“So, I’m happy to announce that the winner of our grand prize predicted all the matches that happened tonight,” Mary Margaret said, taking over the attention once more. “If our esteemed Mayor could please step forward,” Regina rolled her eyes, but Emma saw her glance across the stage and found herself looking over to wonder who she’d picked.

“Could the man who gave her a ten please step forward?”

There was a drumroll from somewhere and Emma and Ruby started to giggle with the insanity of it all, Lily soon joined in and for a moment it felt like they were back in high school waiting to hear who would be announced as Prom Queen.

With a flourish, Robin stepped out of the group of men, and presented Regina with a single red rose.

“If I might have the honour of a proper date milady, I’d love a little more time to get to know you…” He said with a roguish smile. Regina took the rose and Emma realised she was blushing.

“I’d like that,” she said quietly. Robin offered her his arm and they made their way off the stage to where a few tables had been set out with a bottle of champagne on them.

Emma watched as Belle matched with Will. Then Anna with Kristoff (there goes my backup, she’d thought), Whale with Katherine, to which Ruby had suggested his salary might help him keep up with her expensive taste. Lily was called forward to meet a blushing August, to which Emma whooped and clapped louder than anyone else. They had been fighting it for years as far as Emma was concerned. Finally Ruby, suddenly giddy with excitement, was told she’d matched with Graham.

She was so happy for her friends Emma had barely realised Killian was the only man left, and both she and Tamara had yet to be matched. She glanced across at the other woman and shot her a smile. Tamara leaned over and whispered.

“You’re safe blondie, I bat for the other team,” she looked into the crowd and shot a wink at someone.

Emma looked at her in surprise. “Since when…?” she hissed, for all the time they’d spent together she’d never realised.

“Kinda forever, I… had a crush on you for a while…” she admitted with a shrug.

Emma pulled her into a hug. “I’ve missed you Tam,” she said as she pulled back.

“I missed you too,” she beamed.

“If you two are done, Emma, I… well I guess it’s no secret who gave you a ten is there?” Mary Margaret said, amused as Killian didn’t hesitate to join Emma in the middle of the stage before he’d even been called up.

“You won’t regret this, Swan,” he promised, taking her hand and leaning over it to kiss it again before holding out her rose.

“Oh, I will, but not for the reasons you think…” she laughed.

“Actually, before you two go. Emma if you’d like to make these predictions official… Make a donation, because… Well ladies and gentlemen, Emma drew a grid on the back of her scorecard and predicted all the tens, and was within one point on most of the rest of the scores…”

“What do you say, Jones, fancy a spa day followed by Italian for dinner?” Emma asked.

“Aye, love, I think I can do that…” he said, his tongue sweeping across his lips. Emma had sudden auditory imaginings of the kinds of sounds he’d make while getting a massage and couldn’t wait to kiss him. So, she did, grabbing the lapels of his leather jacket and crashing her lips against his.

It was like someone had set a fire in her blood, an all-consuming need had come over her and if she didn’t stop she was going to forget she was in a room full of people she was going to have to face every day for the rest of her life. His hand tangled in her hair as his other arm slipped round her waist, pulling her closer. Emma moaned, tilting her head, wanting more as his tongue pressed into her mouth…

There was an explosion, and confetti rained down over the entire hall, as Emma pulled back laughing breathlessly.

“Somehow, I think this was about more than buying books for kids for Mary Margaret …” Emma said over the loud music that had started to blare into the room and the sounds of people dancing.

“Fancies herself a matchmaker, does she?” Killian asked, blinking paper off his lashes. She could feel the press of his prosthetic at her back, holding her close. The solid warmth of his arm wrapped around her. “Can’t say I’m unhappy with the outcome…” he reasoned with a cheeky wink.

“How much do I owe you Mary Margaret?” Emma called without looking away from Killian.

“Does this mean you are bringing a plus one to the wedding now?” she called back.

Emma rolled her eyes.

“What did I tell you?”

“At least give us one date to get all the nitty gritty out in the open, lass,” Killian replied.

“We’ve got time for nitty gritty?” she asked, her teeth catching her lip.

“Aye, love, I’ve got all the time in the world. You’re looking at Storybrooke’s new Harbour Master,” he told her, still grinning.

Emma gaped at him and then grinned, pulling him back in for another kiss.

#ouat #ouat fanfiction #cs fanfic #Captain Swan #speed dating #ZaharaDessert writes #love4teamhook

[teamhook]

I just wanted to say thank you for all the support you all have given me. Thank you for Love for Teamhook AO3 collection and #love4teamhook

@itsfabianadocarmo @kwistowee @k-leemac @xsajx @dovelyheart @holdingoutforapiratehero @hookedonapirate @apiratewhopines @kmomof4 @justanother-unluckysoul @searchingwardrobes @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @kymbersmith-90 @ilovemesomekillianjones @thisonesatellite @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @hollyethecurious @artistic-writer @winterbaby89 @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @courtorderedcake @andiirivera @djlbg  @jennjenn615 @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776 @kday426 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713   @lassluna @jarienn972 @demisexualemmaswan @swanslieutenant @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @bethacaciakay @ohmakemeahercules @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @mariakov81 @sals86 @onceratheart18 @the-darkdragonfly @veryverynotgoodwrites @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @cocohook38  @karlyfr13s @beckettj  @chasedancer17 @lonelyspectator12 @batana54 @gingerpoliglot @zaharadessert @xrandomdreamsx @holdingoutforapiratehero @tomeandflickcorner @hookedonaswanprincess @scribomaniac @thesschesthair @anothersworld @winterbythesea @justanother-unluckysoul @deckerstarblanche

[snowbellewells]

Self-Promo Sunday: “Thick as Thieves (or Princesses)”

This one shot was originally written for the lovely Alma ( @teamhook ) for the #love4teamhook collection. Though I realize this didn't happen in canon, I consider it more a divergent missing moment which could have happened than fully AU. Killian did seem to make friends with a lot of the various princesses who came and went on "Once", until it sort of seemed like he had a Princess Squad. This story came from that, and you know that the Charmings and company would have gone to Aladdin and Jasmine’s wedding...

Summary: When Killian, Emma, and the Storybrooke crew travel to Agrabah for the wedding of Aladdin and Jasmine, our pirate learns just how many people have his back.

Also available on AO3 here

“I never thought I’d see the day,” a disgruntled voice tsked, standing at the mirror and just out of Emma’s line of sight. The speaker had that disapproving tone to her words, one that Emma had come to know well growing up surrounded by people who looked down their noses at her and were constantly disappointed in her prickly demeanor and tough exterior.

The speaker’s companion, a woman whose robes were a violently garish mauve and who kept fluffing her already quite voluminous mane of curly dark hair, sighed in regretful agreement. Her curls bounced as she seemed to nod sagely at her friend’s words. “It’s true - seems just about anyone can marry into the royal family now.”

The first woman tittered gleefully, enjoying having a sympathetic ear for her gossip no doubt. “Never mind the scruffy length of that Aladdin’s hair…” the mocking emphasis she put on the new prince consort of Agrabah’s name, as if it were too ridiculous to take seriously, had Emma clenching her fist angrily, ready to storm into view and speak up on her friend’s behalf. However, the rest of the woman’s words, knocked her back on her heels for several stunned, painful seconds, “...but did you see the sort of riff raff on his side of the aisle? Street rat that he is, I suppose I really shouldn’t have expected more from the guest list, but honestly!”

“And the visitors are no better! What are Queen Snow and her Charming thinking accepting a pirate for a son-in-law… with his reputation and that hook?”

Emma’s pulse was pounding so strongly in her temples that her vision was going a bit hazy when she charged into the ladies room from the short hall where she’d been listening, revealing herself to the bitter hags at the sinks, practically vibrating with righteous anger and staring them both down as their mouths fell open in shocked embarrassment. Their entire aspects changed as they began to simper and apologize, hoping to placate the royal standing before them.

Emma was having none of it. She might not have grown up being taught the diplomacy and etiquette she would have if she’d had the chance to really grow up as Princess of Misthaven, but she had enough manners not to mock people behind their backs and then feign sweetness and innocence to their faces. Breathing heavily, she glared at both of the Agrabahn women. She darkly thought that the scare served them right as their obsequious attempts to atone eventually trailed off into silence. Crossing her arms over her chest, intending to cut every bit as imposing a figure in demure light blue dress (so she’d wanted to try to match her pirate’s eyes, sue her!) as she would wearing her red leather jacket and sheriff’s badge.

“You two should be really glad I don’t know your names. I can’t imagine that the Sultan would like to deal with this sort of disloyalty on such a happy occasion. He at least seems astute enough to care for who brings his daughter happiness rather than who comes bearing the fanciest pedigree or the newest style.”

Blowing out a breath, she almost turned on her heel to storm back out and leave them with some food for thought, but then she wheeled back around, drawing even closer, until she was almost nose-to-nose with the two gossips. “And furthermore, my husband might have been an indentured servant, and a pirate, but he is the finest man in all the Realms, and I won’t stand for any insinuations otherwise. If you really want to pick on a street rat, you might as well start with me. I may have been born a princess, but I grew up as much ‘riff raff’ as you called your new prince.”

She gave them an arched brow and waited; a clear challenge to direct their taunts and barbs to her face.

Shaking their heads in nervous denial the two women quickly excused themselves and hurried from the room without looking back.

“That’s what I thought,” Emma muttered under her breath with a curt little bob of her head as she watched them flee. She wasn’t even offended on her own behalf; she didn’t care if some strangers and hangers-on thought she was the “right sort” of royal, and she knew her parents felt the same. The barbs struck beneath Killian’s armor though. He talked a good game, and played off such insults well if one didn’t know him as Emma did. He judged himself too harshly and was loath to bring any imagined slight to her name with his past.

Shaking her head, Emma breathed out a sigh, hoping to shrug off her consternation, knowing said pirate would be waiting for her just outside.

Sure enough, as she re-entered the large, open air ballroom set up on the shining gilt-covered porches of the Sultan’s palace, her husband was at her side in moments. Brows waggling playfully, he clearly had a quip or come-on at the tip of his tongue, but he stopped short at the sight of her face. Head tilted to study her, his hand came to her elbow, steadying her curiously. “What is it, Love? You look like thunder!”

She wasn’t about to lie to him any more than she intended to hurt him; they understood each other too well for that. “Nothing important,” she fluttered her hand carelessly. “Just turns out that snobs and bullies are the same in any realm is all.”

He gave a small nod of affirmation, clearly understanding her. “Aye, that does seem to be the way of it.”

Both were quiet for a moment watching couples dancing, Aladdin and Jasmine mingling and greeting their guests, Belle laughing merrily as Henry told her some story with impassioned and enthusiastic gestures for emphasis, before Killian spoke up again. Devilishly handsome smirk in place once more, his eyes sparkled as he added. “No matter, Wife. I’m sure you showed them the error of their ways.”

She snorted, shaking her head at his antics, even if he was absolutely right. Holding out his hook to her gallantly, Killian bowed before murmuring so close to her ear that it sent shivers all along her skin, “Pay no more heed then. Dance with me, instead?”

Flushing in a way that she knew spread all the way down to her more pushed-up and on-display than usual decolletage, she grinned broadly. Her husband seemed rather spellbound, his eyes following the rise and fall of her breaths helplessly and his tongue flicked out to trace his full perfect lips at the sight on display. “If you think you can handle it,” she winked. “I was starting to think you’d never ask.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometime later, after several dances and Emma’s begging to rest her feet, unused to heels that weren’t knee-high boots these days, Killian had seen her back to the table they were sharing with her parents and Henry, and was fetching them both drinks from the elaborately flowing sangria fountain, somehow arranged to flow steadily into a large punch bowl, where waiters then dipped it into crystal glasses for guests as they approached the table.

“Two please,” he told the server when it was his turn.

Accepting the filled cups a moment later, Killian couldn’t resist a quick sip right then, having worked up quite a thirst with he and Emma’s exertions, the close crowd, and the arid desert surroundings. Humming at the pleasant blend of flavors on his tongue, he questioned curiously, “Is there rum in this? It tastes as though some of the best has been blended in with the fruit juices.”

“I - I believe so,” the server stammered rather uncertainly.

“Well, my compliments. It is one of the better libations I’ve had the pleasure of imbibing.”

It was as he had turned away, heading back to Emma at their table, that he heard the words whispered behind him. “Well, he would know, wouldn’t he?” hissed one lowered voice.

“Word has it he’s found the bottom of more liquor bottles than most people have ever seen,” countered another insinuating murmur.

“A one-handed pirate with a drinking problem given free rein in this palace full of treasure to tempt his baser instincts… seems like a recipe for disaster, if anyone had bothered to ask me,” chimed in a third, the sniff of indignance making that barb carry with a bit more volume. Killian felt his shoulders hiking up toward his ears with the tension, but he managed to hold himself steady and not to turn to glower at the servants threateningly. Time was he would have whirled and taught them all a lesson they’d not soon forget, but he was trying to be a different man - a better man - though it would seem to some his efforts made little difference.

“And to think, he has the Crown Princess of Misthaven on his arm!” huffed yet one more hateful voice, again well within his sharp hearing whether or not that had been the intent. This was the shot which met its mark, causing Killian to drop his eyes to the two cups balanced carefully in his right hand, hoping to make a quick escape before anyone realized he was around. It was like he had tried explaining to Emma before  - people had a long memory when it came to expectations for their leaders, and married True Loves or not, there were some who would never approve of Captain Hook as Prince Consort to one of the most prominent kingdoms in the Realm.

His hasty retreat was abruptly blocked however, by two dainty feet in golden and turquoise-jeweled sandals, barely skimmed by the hem of a long, white silk gown standing right in his way.

Surprised, Killian’s head jerked up to find Princess Jasmine’s eyes staring back at him sympathetically. She had clearly heard the same hateful words he had just been subjected to, yet she appeared anything but ready to sneak off and let it continue. In that moment, with her lips pursed and eyes calculating as she weighed her next move, a delicate hand on his forearm to stall his retreat, she looked incredibly like his fierce and beautiful Swan.

“Speaking of temptation,” she purred, the feigned placid smile on her face a warning as she stepped around him to eye the gathered help pointedly. “The only thing I am tempted to do is search for a new kitchen staff - one cultured enough not to speak ill of a particular friend of the bride and an honored guest.” Princess Jasmine was a petite woman, but the way she drew herself up before them, staring down her nose imperiously at each offender in turn, made her seem every inch a tall, proud monarch it would not be wise to cross.

A hushed, abashed-eyed chorus of “Yes, ma’ams” and “Apologies, your majesty,” fell over each other as the whisperers bowed or curtsied and then hurried from the princess’ sight, properly rebuked for having displeased her, and on her wedding day no less.

“Ahh… thank you, Milady,” Killian offered quietly, feeling more than a bit awkward that she had felt she must come to his defense in such a way. He had certainly heard similar insults before - and much worse. Even carefully cradling the two drinks in one hand, he still found the curve of his hook raising to rub behind his ear in nervous embarrassment - his eyes hardly wanting to hold his saucy friend’s gaze even as she eyed him knowingly.

“Nonsense,” she dismissed easily, waving away the sheepish gratitude with a quick flutter of her hand. “They needed correction. Anyone who is going to work in the royal palace needs to be wise enough not to insult the guests!”

“Be that as it may, Lass, there’s no need for you to trouble yourself over my hurt feelings. They weren’t wrong, after all…”

Jasmine was having none of that. Her dark hair beneath the gorgeous flow of her organza veil swished around her as she shook her head emphatically, eyes sparking intently as she refused to allow him to glance away. “Hardly, Captain! I think I am a better judge of character than that, and I know backbiting chatter does not begin to capture all of your fine qualities, merely the flaws. Besides,” and she winked here, lacing her arm through his free one as she steered them back toward his family’s table to greet them all herself, “you would do the same thing for me were the situations reversed.  And I hear that your lovely wife has already been speaking up for my own handsome scoundrel. We princesses who can recognize a diamond in the rough have to stick together!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things calmed down as the reception festivities wore on through the afternoon. Killian found it easier than expected to brush the sniping words he’d heard to the back of his mind and enjoy himself. There was too much to see and do, too many friends, both new and old, to catch up with, and far more happiness to celebrate than sour notes to dwell on. He had challenged David to a game of darts and trounced the royal soundly. He had spoken at length with Aladdin himself about the future as a married man, starting families, and loving a princess. He had even attempted to settle a heated debate between Henry and Belle over whether The Thousand and One Nights or The Book of the Wonders of India were the better read.  He had respectfully declined to offer his opinion in the end though, knowing better than to side against either one of them when they were so passionately involved.

As the hours seemed to melt heedlessly into evening and the lavish banquet was served to conclude the night, Killian found himself seated with Henry and Emma on one side of him and Belle on the other at a long table, and across from him, grinning broadly with the guileless enthusiasm one couldn’t help but love was none other than Ariel and her husband, Prince Eric. Everyone was chatting happily throughout the appetizer, but as those first plates were cleared away and the main course was served, Killian encountered a rather vexing conundrum.

The fragrant lamb dish placed before them was tempting enough to make his mouth water in mere seconds. However, how to actually go about eating it posed a bit more of a challenge. Had he been on his own or back in Storybrooke where he was comfortable, it would have been no trouble. He would simply have pierced the larger cut of meat with the point of his hook to hold it still and then cut it into smaller pieces with his knife, then switched to his fork when finished. However, using his hook at this fine a table and in such company seemed as though it might raise a few eyebrows.

He paused, attempting to gauge his options without alerting his companions that anything was amiss. And, of course, it took no more time than that for the jackals to begin circling once more. Prickling along the back of his neck, Killian sensed that he was being watched as he debated his next move. Glancing about him surreptitiously, he found the culprits easily enough. Agrabahn nobles or wives of council members, he thought he remembered vaguely from an earlier introduction. They had also seemed reluctant to shake his hand, and now he saw that his instinctual assessment has been correct. Though he couldn’t hear their actual words, their heads were bent together as their eyes drifted from him to his plate and utensils and back before he did hear a small trill of smug laughter.

What he did not expect was the cry of outrage that rang out just across from him in the next moment. Shooting to her feet with an abruptness that sent her chair toppling to the floor behind her with a loud crash, sweet natured Ariel herself was pointing at the two catty women with a finger that practically trembled in her righteous anger. “How dare you, y-y-you harpies!” she exclaimed, her volume attracting more attention than Killian would have hoped, staring at his plate with jaw clenched enough to make the muscle within it tick noticeably as well as the heat of a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks.

“You ought to be ashamed of yourselves!” Ariel continued, her own pale cheeks flushed with her fit of pique. Eric reached out a concerned hand in an attempt to soothe her, but she wasn’t finished. Killian half expected her to stamp her foot for more emphasis.

“Have you - either of you - any idea how much the man you’re giggling at can accomplish with just one hand? How much he has done for numerous ones gathered at this very table? It would hardly matter if you were about to see him use one of these ridiculous forks incorrectly!”

As if to illustrate her point, Ariel picked up a fork and twirled it around her fingers rather menacingly, if Killian did say so himself. “I’ve had to learn to eat with unfamiliar manners and utensils too. It’s not as easy as it looks! And if any of you have any more to say about it in regards to my friend, well… I’ll show you another way to weld the pointy end of these things, right in your pompous behinds!”

The whole gathering was stunned into silence for a moment. Killian could hardly move as he watched Ariel breathing heavily and then plunking back down into her righted seat and leaning in Eric’s solid comfort. He could sense Henry’s wide-eyed awe beside him as he looked at the mermaid princess admiringly. Yet, he struggled to make himself shift his eyes to Emma on Henry’s other side, hating that he had put her so close to such an embarrassing spectacle. Though when he did, a relieved whoosh of air escaped as he saw her glancing back at him, biting her lip and looking torn between wanting to pull him away from the table and soothe him as only she knew how, and standing up to whistle and applaud her agreement with Ariel’s speech.

Leaning closer, so that only he and Henry could hear her, Emma’s eyes twinkled merrily with mischievous pleasure as she told him, “You’ve got an entire Princess Squad watching your back, don’t you, Pirate?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Late that night - or early the next morning, depending on how one wanted to look at it - Emma rolled over in bed to prop her chin on her husband’s chest, idly running her fingers through the dark hair covering his always deliciously warm skin. Though he had been holding her cozily as always, arm around her waist and her back pressed to his front, cocooned in his embrace, she knew he was still awake and was sure she knew what was troubling him.

She couldn’t help thanking her fellow princess once again in her mind for remembering that she and Killian were basically still newlyweds as well. Jasmine had seen to it that they had a gorgeously appointed suite to themselves, far enough from her family and the rest of the Storybrooke visitors to afford them some privacy. The large, open room’s windows with gauzy curtains let in the rapidly cooling air deliciously after it had blown so hot across the desert all day. It felt luxurious on her bare skin beneath the fine, light sheets in the giant canopy bed. She had definitely thought there would be some things they could get up to in that bed once they’d returned from the reception some hours ago, but Killian had merely readied for sleep, lay down, and opened his arms to hold her.

Not that there was anything wrong with that, or that she minded cuddling up with her handsome husband whenever they could catch a quiet moment, but she sensed something bothering him in his lack of playful banter and the tension she could feel in his body. That was why when she rolled over and began to run her fingers lightly over his skin. She took a deep breath, and then finally raised her eyes to meet his. Words were not always her strong suit, but she was determined to try - especially when she got a glimpse of the melancholy lingering behind the look of sleepy affection in his eyes.

“You know that those few people who would doubt you are such a tiny minority… don’t you?” she asked, hoping that he did, and that he would believe her in this as he always had before. “And even if they weren’t - which they are - it wouldn’t matter. The people who count know what kind of man you really are; they see the same hero that I do.”

Emma paused, holding her breath, watching as Killian opened his mouth, then closed it, then swallowed hard, before finally speaking aloud in ragged but determined tones. “Aye, so all of you have assured me. Most of the time, I even believe it. Still, those incidents tonight…. They remind me that I do not wish for my past, my villainous reputation, to cast doubt upon your family. I would never want to tarnish your rule or your standing with your people.”

He looked so distraught, so painfully sorry that Emma had to cradle his face in her hands and lean up to kiss him right then, trying to pour all of the comfort and reassurance she possibly could into the gesture, even before she answered his concerns. When she did pull back, he offered her a smile looked at least mildly soothed, and she gently brought one hand back to his chest while the other sought out his hand to twine her fingers with his.

Squeezing gently for emphasis, she tried to answer him the best way she knew how. “Okay, first of all, what’s this about my family and my people? They’re yours now too. Killian, you have to know that my family loves you. My dad is like a lost puppy when you can’t come to his Tuesday Guy’s Nights - ” That did make him crack a genuine smile she noticed happily. “That’s what it means when you marry and two become one, right? What’s mine is yours, and what’s yours is mine. There’s no separating it back out now.”

Killian nodded his agreement, but a furrow of concern still creased his forehead. “Aye, Love, of course you’re right, but still - ”

“Ah ah ah,” she shook her head, cutting him off, “I’m not done. You also have to see that though it felt like a lot bubbled up today, it was less than 10 people, in a gathering of hundreds. They are such a tiny percentage, and they do not matter. Anyone who really knows you would never think any of those things you heard today. Besides that, this rule and kingdom you seem so concerned about? What bearing does that have on our everyday life? Storybrooke isn’t some old-fashioned monarchy, and we’re going back to Storybrooke. You aren’t hurting anything… you make it so much better.” She spoke that last with fervent emphasis, clinging to his hand and waiting for his response.

Slowly the last of the clouds and the frown of concern seemed to ease from her husband’s face. Emma felt her heart flutter a bit as he met her eyes with a look of such awed reverence and love, and joy where there had been shame and self-doubt. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Emma, but you’re right. I’ll not allow a few naysayers to ruin what we’ve built.”

Shaking her head, eyes welling with tears of relief and love of her own, Emma just managed to choke out, “I’m the one who doesn’t know how I managed to deserve you. You chose me, you didn’t give up on me - even when I made it difficult, and you put me back together, Killian. You - you showed me my heart still worked.”

He was on her the minute she stopped speaking, lips capturing hers as his thumb came up to brush away her tears. He rolled them to hover over her, and just stared at her for a moment, both their hearts pounding, before she reached up and pulled him back to her. There were still a few hours of darkness left, and neither of them planned to waste it with any space between them.

Tagging a few others who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi  @revanmeetra87 @jrob64 @xsajx @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly  @therooksshiningknight @spartanguard @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @hollyethecurious @apiratewhopines @gingerchangeling @kday426 @profdanglaisstuff @shireness-says @thisonesatellite @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @let-it-raines @ineffablecolors @darkcolinodonorgasm @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @cosette141​ 

#self promo sunday #cs oneshot #ouat missing moment #ouat canon divergent #thick as thieves (or princesses) #cs ff #killian's princess squad

[karlyfr13s]

Helping Destiny Along

A fluffy CS one-shot for the lovely @teamhook

Thank you @veryverynotgoodwrites for being one heck of a beta, and @the-darkdragonfly for your brainstorming powers!

Summary: Henry Mills has a theory: for each Captain Hook, there must be an Emma Swan. Well, he found Princess Emma Nolan at long last and is determined to bring her together with Killian Jones now that he's back in the Wishverse version of the Enchanted Forest.

Read it on AO3

At nineteen, Princess Emma Nolan believed in True Love. After all, her parents had found each other, and everyone knew theirs was a legendary love worthy of poetry and song. She watched for a prince from the high windows of her tower bedroom, waiting for someone tall, dark, and handsome to sweep her off her feet. He would be bold, romantic, dashing, and kind-hearted—she just knew it.

At twenty-two, she concluded that such a love was rare and that her parents may be the only two people with a Capital-T, Capital-L True Love, so she started looking for the more run-of-the-mill variety. Instead of waiting for someone to ride up to the castle gate and court her, she took a more active approach and sought her love by traveling and meeting new people. When that didn’t work either, Princess Emma tried for mutual attraction, which was fun at twenty-four, but grew stale by twenty-five. So she resigned herself to loving her kingdom and her people.

At twenty-eight, a man knocked on the door and utterly transformed her life. To be clear, she did not love that particular man. Henry came from a faraway land and told her fantastic tales that seemed beyond the reach of even her magic, and while she did not love him, he told her somewhere out there in a world beyond her grasp there was an Emma Swan who was his mother, and who loved him ferociously. For days, she and her parents welcomed Henry to stay in their home and share meals at their table, and for days he regaled them with stories of his world and of other versions of each member of the Nolan family. They were spellbound by his narratives. He was a gifted storyteller, and as if he’d known this was too fantastic to be believed, he came with something called photographs that showed a still window into his world. She saw a version of her mother, Queen Snow, but much younger and with close-cropped dark hair instead of the silvery tresses she was accustomed to. Her father was another surprise--he looked barely older than Emma herself, sandy hair where now there was gray, and while she knew her father was still a strong and capable swordsman, this version of King David seemed able to challenge even the mightiest ogre.

Princess Emma Nolan even saw herself, but not herself. They looked identical, she and Henry’s mother, and while her style was different from this unknown twin’s, she couldn’t help but notice some similarities. Emma Swan was often pictured in a short red leather coat, while Princess Emma Nolan’s favorite doublet was a rich blue leather. When she commented, Henry told her they both wore them like armor, gesturing to the bruise on his shoulder from their earlier sparring session in the yard. Emma Swan liked to pull her hair back, wearing it high on her head much like Princess Emma Nolan when she wasn’t expected at court or in her regal finest. Henry even had a picture of his mother with a sword--is she trained as well? She’d asked, and Henry grinned at the question, answering with another tale of his mother besting a pirate in single combat!

“I’m pretty sure that fight was rigged though,” he admitted as they walked the castle gardens one afternoon. “And that’s part of why I’m here.” He stopped and faced her, saying he hoped she could believe one more outlandish story before he had to return to his world.

“You seem to come well-armed with evidence, Henry. I don’t see why I should doubt you at this point.”

“My mother, Emma Swan, is an incredible woman. It took her a long time, but she found her True Love, and I think you can find yours. When I learned there was a version of her--of you--here, I had to find out if you were with him too, and when you weren’t…” Henry trailed off, frowning at the ground. He was quiet for a long while, and Emma ran through his words over and over. Henry thought he knew who her True Love was? How? How could he know that his mother and whoever she was with were one another’s True Love?

“I know he’s here now--I’ve met him before, and back in my world--”

“What? Then how can he be my True Love if he’s from your world?” None of this was making sense, and for the first time she doubted Henry. It seemed he could see the uncertainty within her, and he steered them to a bench to sit and talk as he clarified this man was not from his world, but had been brought there by a curse. The same curse that separated Henry from his own family.

“I know you understand curses and magic,” he began and she nodded at his words. “So when I tell you he was swept up in a curse and brought back in time to my world, that should make sense, right?” She nodded again, wondering who could have cursed two men from different worlds at the same time. Someone powerful and dangerous. Henry sighed and continued. “His name is Killian Jones, and he’s the best man I know. He’s my father in every sense of the word, and while there’s a version of him who is my mother’s True Love, I know there is one who is also yours. He has to be.”

Henry told her a lengthy story about a witch who ensnared a group of people from this kingdom, trapping them in a place called Hyperion Heights. He spoke of a coven leader who cursed Killian Jones so he could never be in contact with his daughter—a child she had abandoned him with after tricking him into spending a night with her. “But you see, Emma, you can break that curse. Your love--yours and Killian’s will break that curse. You will have each other and Alice--hell, and Robin! I haven’t even told you about Robin,” he was lost in thought again after that. Emma waited and tried to make sense of all she had learned.

Is it possible? In some way, his tale made sense. If what he said about the curse was true, it would explain The Gap. Emma had never mentioned The Gap to Henry, though he may have learnt of it through other means. It was rarely spoken of, but everyone in the Enchanted Forest shared one simple truth: there was a block of time no one could account for. Whenever Emma or her parents tried to focus on that space, thinking back to her twenty-sixth birthday, there was a strange void where there should be at least some memory of the year. She could remember the celebratory ball and the night of her birthday, but every time she tried to focus on what came next it only earned her a persistent headache.

“Please don’t hate me, Emma,” Henry put a hand on her shoulder, bringing her back to the present. “I told him to meet me here three days after I arrived. That’s tonight. He’ll be here, and he knows what I believe about you two because he also knows my mother and her Killian. He’s, uh...not entirely convinced. He’s been through a lot, but…” He shrugged and gave her a lopsided smile.

“It’s his story to tell, so I won’t go into detail, just...go easy on the guy. He might be a little gun shy—uh, guarded,” he quickly clarified when he saw her blink in confusion. “I don’t think he’s seen anyone since that witch who duped him, led the coven, and tried to destroy Hyperion Heights. Think that might do a number on a guy.” He looked so sincere, so much like he did when telling all his other tales that Emma chose to believe. Henry hadn’t lied to her before, so what would the motivation be to do so now?

She chewed at her lip, fretting over what to do and how to greet someone who might be a part of her very soul--someone who had been through tricks and curses, and had suffered real loss. She couldn’t simply turn him out in the night, that was unthinkable, but what do you say to the other half of your heart? If that is what he is. This had to have been simpler for her mother. At least she’d simply caught her father in a net after robbing him. That seemed easier than calmly welcoming fate to dinner and introducing the man to your parents on day one.

“Well,” she got up and dusted off her breeches, “I suppose we’d best let my parents know we’re expecting another guest. And I may need to change as well. I think I’d rather not smell worse than the stables when I meet him.” Emma faltered on the last word, not knowing how to address Killian Jones. Henry smiled and followed her lead.

-----

One thorough and contemplative bath later, Emma emerged in a blush pink gown that shimmered softly in the waning sunlight. It had taken her three other dresses before she settled on this one. It was simpler than what she wore to galas and State events: tea length and embroidered in sheer flowers. She knew it would glow softly under the lights of the candles and torches at dinner, and Princess Emma Nolan found herself hoping he would like it.

When he arrived, it was Henry who greeted Killian Jones first, clasping the man’s hand and giving Emma a moment to simply observe. His smile was warm, a bright white flash of teeth and Emma noticed the slight creases at his eyes as well. An authentic smile, she noted, enjoying the genuine moment between the two men. He was dashing there was no other word for it--dressed in black and rich crimson, rings and charms gleaming in the firelight, their glimmer echoed in the silver strands that threaded here and there through his otherwise coal-black hair. Where his left hand ought to be, Emma found instead a polished silver hook and she remembered whispered gossip of a pirate captain referred to only by the moniker Hook. Once a fearsome leader of a brutal band of thieves, he had all but vanished into lore years ago. She realized too late that she’d been staring, and cleared her throat softly before curtseying to cover the awkwardness. Henry took the moment to introduce them, “Captain Killian Jones, may I present Emma Nolan, Princess of Misthaven.”

She offered her hand and Killian took it up, placing a chaste kiss across her knuckles. His eyes met hers, their brilliant lapis blue making her breath catch in her throat. Regardless of the formality of their meeting and the fact Henry, her parents, and several serving staff looked on, she felt the pull immediately. From the moment her hand was in his, it felt right. She wanted to keep hold of him more than she’d wanted anything in her life, wanted to memorize the rough calluses formed by his years at sea, but she forced herself to maintain propriety and brought her hand back to her side. Emma reminded herself they did not know one another, to not get swept up in Henry’s notions without evaluating the truth of the situation. Though she saw in his gaze a strange flicker of recognition, a brief knitting of his brow that asked a silent question she could not interpret, she let the moment pass and returned to her expected duties.

Emma introduced him to her parents, watching her father’s scrutinizing gaze contrast with her mother’s brilliant smile. No doubt her father was riddling out Henry’s purpose in inviting this man to dinner, though she couldn’t fathom him guessing the truth. All through dinner, Emma could barely take her eyes off Killian. He shared a few stories from his days at sea, talking of far-off kingdoms and uninhabited islands, and Emma felt a longing take hold of her as he spun a tale of a snow-covered northern kingdom where they carved elaborate ice sculptures, held firelight festivals, and celebrated the beauty of winter rather than fearing its chill. His voice was low, its velvet warmth wrapping around her and pulling her from all sense of time. The evening passed quickly, and long before she was ready, Emma’s parents stood to signal the end of the affair.

“It’s far too late for you to make a return journey, Captain Jones,” Queen Snow spoke. “We welcome you to stay as a guest in our home. We will have a room made up for you at once and hope you will accompany us for breakfast in the morning.” At his thanks, the Queen turned to Emma, “Oh, and Emma, darling?”

“Yes, Mother?”

Emma approached and her mother drew her in for a close hug, whispering softly, “See to it that Captain Jones can find his way. Most of the staff have already retired and I’d hate for him to get lost in search of rest.” With that, the Queen turned and gently tugged her husband toward their own chambers, leaving Emma to escort their two guests.

She could hear her father grumbling about leaving Emma unchaperoned, but Snow’s voice echoed back, “David, she’s twenty-eight, not sixteen, she’ll be fine. Our daughter is perfectly capable--” Their voices were lost as they rounded a corner, and Emma suppressed a smile. It didn’t matter that she was a full grown woman, her father would always be protective of her.

When she turned around, Emma realized Henry had vanished. Someone seems to think himself a matchmaker, she mused and as her eyes fell upon the man who waited by the fireplace she could understand why Henry had made himself scarce. Deep breath, Emma. He’s simply a man like any other. If she tried very hard, she just might convince herself of that. Well, unless she stopped to listen to the way her heart raced when the corner of his mouth ticked up in a smile.

“Did you want--that is,” she faltered and tripped over her tongue, coming to stand near him where he leaned against the back of a chair by the hearth. “I don’t know how long a trip you made today, and so…” Why was this so hard?

“I’m quite alright, Princess. Would it be terribly inappropriate of me to ask you to keep me company and perhaps share a drink?” She smiled in response, slipping a large book from a shelf over the mantle after pointing out where her father kept a set of glasses on a shelf nearby.

“He thinks I don’t know about this,” she opened the volume to reveal a bottle. “Rum he had imported from the south--is that acceptable, Captain?”

“Aye, that will do nicely. Bit of a pirate in you isn’t there, Princess? Pinching a man’s rum while he’s fast asleep.” They shared a conspiratorial grin as she poured and each took up a chair near the fire. “To what shall we toast, love?”

She hummed in thought, considering the man before her. The pull was still there like some invisible thread entwining the two of them and she hoped it wasn’t only she who felt it. “To new beginnings,” she offered, holding her glass aloft. He echoed the sentiment and crystal clinked as their eyes met over the rims of their glasses before both looked away shyly and took a sip. The warmth and spice slid down her throat, settling in her stomach and making her shiver. They were quiet for a time, simply sharing the space while they glanced at one another, eyes never quite meeting, nor acknowledging they were both performing the same dance.

“I take it dear Henry shared his theory with you?” Killian broke the silence, addressing the weight that had settled in the room. She confirmed he had shared that along with several other stories, asking if it were true he’d been swept away to a land without magic. “Aye, and for some time I had no memory of myself or this place. When the truth finally came back to me it was...difficult to deal with. Did he...mention Alice?” He swirled the rum in his glass, eyes flicking up to meet hers.

“Yes, he also mentioned a curse is keeping you apart,” she reached across the small distance that separated them, hand resting on the brace that held his hook. “Killian—if I may call you Killian,” she felt herself flush at the informality and he nodded encouragingly. She said it once more, feeling the musical quality of it as she continued. “What kind of monster keeps a father from his daughter like that?”

His shoulders sagged as he said the story of Gothel was one for another day, that it was a story filled with dark shadows he dare not conjure without the sunlight to dispel them. “I only mention Alice because...well, given what Henry has told both of us I have been...” his brow furrowed as he searched for a word, and she leaned forward, absently running her hand over his sleeve and feeling where the firm leather of his brace ended and the warmth of his arm began. His gaze dropped to where her hand rested and she looked up, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “Concerned,” he finished at last. “That is, I’d thought perhaps because I have a child with someone else, and because I am obviously older than you are, that you might feel...or not feel a certain…not that I think Henry is necessarily right…”

His words tapered off and she became very aware they were both leaning in now, the distance between them nearly closed. She could see the silver in his hair glinting in the firelight, the strands at his temples more greyed than the rest. Greedily, she took in all she could in this moment. The heat that radiated from where her hand still rested atop his arm, the scents of leather and petrichor that clung to him were so close she could nearly roll them on her tongue. When she searched his eyes she saw a lingering hurt, but behind that was what appeared to be cautious hope. Setting her glass aside, Emma brought her hand up, allowing herself to do what she’d been wanting to all evening and running her fingers through his hair. He held her gaze, eyes wide and uncertain and she realized his past hurts ran deep enough that he wouldn’t act on that hopeful glint she’d seen moments ago. She would have to be brave for both of them.

With a whisper of his name she closed what little distance remained between them. She’d intended a light brush of her lips, had simply wanted to know what may lie between them, but the moment their lips met Emma knew she would never be satisfied with so little. She poured herself into the moment, moving to grip the front of his shirt and pull him tightly to her. He followed her lead, their kiss deepening as he tilted his head, the two of them moving as though they had done this a hundred times before. She heard her pulse pounding away in her head, felt his breath ghosting over her lips as they breathed into one another for a moment before he captured her lips again. Something shifted then, like the single beat of a massive heart, a shockwave rippled outward, though neither could be bothered to break this moment. Finally, the two pulled back, eyes searching one another.

“Was that?” Emma asked, not knowing how to complete the thought. Her parents had told her their story several times: the kiss that broke the curse. The kiss that radiated out from them in a burst of force and light. The kiss that sounded an awful lot like what she had just shared with Captain Killian Jones.

Killian rested his forehead against hers, breathing out slowly before replying in a soft voice, “Aye love, I think it may have been.” She asked how that was possible, neither naming it yet and both quaffing their rum before leaning back in their chairs. “Years ago,” he began, “I ran into a fortune teller on the docks. He told me I would find my happiness though it was presently locked away in a tall tower. So, when the time came and I found myself facing a witch and finding a woman locked away in a tower I had thought my moment had come. Instead, I found Gothel and her tricks. I brought a daughter into this world only to have her freedom snatched away by the cold-hearted woman who bore her.”

Emma watched him closely, he seemed far away and lost in another time. “Tonight,” he continued after several beats, “when I saw the westward tower of this castle I had to stifle my hope that perhaps after so long--what is that tower to you?” He leaned toward her suddenly, his sapphire eyes searching hers as though he could read the truth within them.

“My bedroom,” she admitted. “My parents thought it would keep me safe. With only one known entrance and exit, it was easy to post guards and easy to know who sought my attention. Of course, there is another exit, but no one other than me knows of it. I devised it when I was sixteen and desperately wanted a way out without the entourage of guards.”

He fell silent, his forehead creased in thought as he tapped a finger against the bow of his lips. The mantle clock’s rhythmic ticking was nearly deafening as Emma waited through each drawn out second. Mesmerized by the path he now traced along his bottom lip, her mind drifted back to the soft press of his mouth against hers and she wished fervently to undo whatever had him so lost in his own thoughts. Come back to me, Killian, she sighed aloud and he snapped to attention. “My apologies, love. I believe I may be in need of rest.” His explanation rang hollow and she leveled a gaze at him, knowing this wasn’t the full truth.

“I swear to you, Princess, I will make my theories known. I do not intend to hide anything from you.” He stood then, stretching languidly before offering his arm and waiting for her to rise. She acquiesced if only for the chance to feel the warmth of him once more before she retired for the night. She tried to stifle her yawn behind her hand and heard him chuckle low in response. “It seems I may not be the only one in need of sleep. Lead the way, love.”

She led him to one of the guest rooms not far from Henry’s. As she bid him goodnight, Killian leaned down to brush a featherlight kiss across her lips, wishing her sweet dreams. Emma felt as though she floated on air the whole way up to her room, content to leave him to his musings tonight and trusting he would speak his mind soon enough.

----- The morning saw Emma waking earlier than usual, calling a chipper “Good morning” to her sleep-rumpled lady’s maid before dismissing her and attending to her own routine. Still abed at this hour? It seems dear Tink has been keeping late hours herself. She let herself ponder whose affections might be persuading the spunky blonde to be less than punctual, smiling at her reflection as she brushed out her golden tresses.

Once ready, Emma hummed to herself, making her way down the innumerable stairs in search of breakfast, her parents, and Killian--the thought made her grin. His sudden shift into contemplativeness notwithstanding, he had been the perfect gentleman last night. Thoughtful in their discussion at dinner, genuine and curious without overstepping, and then there was the kiss. She flushed, pausing before the dining room doors to gather her thoughts and put on what she hoped was a soft smile rather than the doe-eyed look she’d undoubtedly been wearing since she woke.

Her parents, Henry, and Killian were already seated when she entered--the latter both rising and inclining their heads in deference. “Good morning, Princess,” they intoned in unison. She laughed, insisting they sit and continue the conversation she had interrupted, taking her place at her father’s right hand and quietly thanking the servingman who filled her cup with coffee and cream.

“Killian, you were asking about the tower, yes?” Queen Snow offered an encouraging half-smile before sipping demurely at her tea. At this, Emma heard her father mutter under his breath about the Captain inquiring about his daughter’s bedroom.

“Yes. You see, Your Majesty, I can’t help but notice it is nearly identical--from the outside,” he clarified at her father’s rapidly reddening face, “to one I encountered years ago. That particular structure was the residence of a rather powerful witch.”

“Gothel,” her father spat, and all eyes shifted to him. Emma saw Killian’s jaw clench at the name and he gave a single, curt nod in affirmation.

With her mother’s hand resting on his shoulder, her father began the story she’d heard many times over the course of her life. The story of how Gothel heard the regents were expecting and deduced there would be a child born of the most powerful magic in all realms: True Love. That she knew as well that child would have light magic, and that even if it never manifested there would be power in their blood. It was the story of why Emma’s parent’s fortified their home so heavily once word of Gothel’s covetous wish reached them, and why they insisted she train with sword and bow.

“It’s why my little girl was taught to ride like a soldier and not a courtier. Hell, it’s why I gave into her frankly dangerous wishes and allowed her to learn to sail--in case she needed to escape quickly.”

“Does it help to know Gothel can’t harm anyone anymore?” Henry offered helpfully, trying to lighten the weight that had settled on the group. There was general agreement at the table that, yes, it did help. Quite a lot, in fact, and it felt as though the sun broke out from beneath the clouds as they returned to their breakfast.

“Is that what you were concerned about, Captain?” Emma caught herself in time and used his title, not yet ready to have that discussion with her parents.

“The thought had crossed my mind, Princess, but it seems your own construction must have inspired hers for some reason.” He dismissed the thought, though she could practically hear the gears of his mind grinding away. The conversation returned to banal pleasantries about the weather and what game was in season. Her father consulted Killian on the conditions at sea, and in general the rest of the meal was like any other. Like any other meal you share with your family, a new friend, and the man you just shared True Love’s Kiss with less than eight hours after meeting him. Perfectly normal. Emma put on her court smile and commented politely, waiting for her moment to pounce.

“Join me for a walk in the gardens, Captain?” The moment arrived after a lengthy debate about the benefits of traveling by horse in comparison to ship. Thank the gods for the momentary lull as her father’s cup was refilled yet again - Emma didn’t think there was enough coffee in the whole of Misthaven to keep her alert on this topic.

“Of course, Princess.” He smiled bashfully, running his hand through his hair and standing as she rose. “May I?” He offered his arm and she accepted, the two making a long overdue exit.

The grass was still damp as they walked the grounds, the morning sun hinting at a warm day to come despite the slight chill that had Emma leaning in close, basking in the warm line of contact with Killian. “So, what was it you held back up there?” She broke the silence and watched the arch of his brow as he glanced at her. “I’ve always known when people are dishonest, or not fully honest in this case,” she explained. “It’s a feeling, sort of like a rock settling into my stomach. I don’t know if it’s part of my magic or something else,” she shrugged at this and watched his expression shift from curiosity to contemplation. No doubt he was thinking up a way to explain whatever was plaguing his mind.

He remained in that state as they passed her mother’s bed of crimson roses and all the way through the lilies that always made her nose twitch, their heady scent overpowering. Spotting the bench she and Henry had sat on—was that only yesterday?—she took the lead, turning to face him as they sat.

“There are some strange coincidences,” he began. Their knees brushed and she leaned into the contact, hoping her touch might ground him in the present. His past included darkness, and here in the bright morning sun amongst the flowers she hoped to keep those grim memories at bay.

“The tower is the first of them, and I’ve no idea which came first. Given Gothel’s numerous deceits, I’m not inclined to believe any of her tales nor any of Belfry’s—the woman who claimed to be the missing princess, Rapunzel,” he clarified when he saw her puzzled look. “Did you know the witch?”

She shook her head, “Only what my parents told me: that she was interested in my magic and had a reputation for taking what she desired by force.” He expressed clear agreement, and when his focus became distant Emma took hold of both hand and hook. “Whatever it is, that doesn’t change who we are to one another, Killian.”

That must have heartened him, for it earned her a gentle smile. “Aye, love, I suppose you’re right. You see, the other strangeness was Gothel’s impersonation. I’ve never given it much thought, but why should she play at being a princess? I’d no notion who the woman was, yet she changed her appearance, her voice, her name. Why?” He hypothesized then that either Gothel bribed the fortune-teller, planting the man in Killian’s path with a bogus story about happiness in a tower, or that she somehow knew Emma would be important and hedged her bets by occupying her own tower and putting herself in Killian’s path.

“You see, I’ve considered the strangeness of these overlaps and in part I wonder if one of the gifts she or a fellow witch of her coven acquired was prophecy. She seemed to know far more than anyone ought to, and perhaps thought to entrap me and use me to get to you.

“If she knew we were, uh,” he gulped, and flushed a charming shade of pink all the way to his ears. “Destined for one another, then it would be well within her character to exploit that. To make me think she could lead me to my happiness, then snatch you away for her own nefarious purposes. As well, I’m starting to suspect the unaccounted year the townsfolk allude to may well have been a longer span of time than any of you realize.”

It made sense in a way, and while they couldn’t be certain of Gothel’s intentions, Emma was definitely grateful the woman was gone and could do them no further harm. As far as The Gap was concerned, she supposed there was no real way of knowing how much time had passed, only that it seemed like a year. Had she slept as Aurora once had? Every answer seemed to lead to more questions, but Emma resolved herself to focusing on what mattered most first: reuniting Killian with his Alice.

“Despite her purposes, Killian, whatever they may have been,” she reached up and cupped his cheek. His eyes were blue as the sea and she let herself fall into their depths as she brought him back to the present. “Last night, Killian, True Love’s Kiss is potent magic and I think—I’m almost certain, actually—that we broke your curse. We can find Alice, and you can finally hold your daughter in your arms again.”

“We?” He grinned at her, nuzzling against her hand before turning to kiss her palm. “Then you’ll accompany me, love?”

“Of course! I know we’ve only just met, but I think it’s more than obvious how I feel about you given the fact we broke a witch’s curse with our first kiss.” They shared a laugh, shifting so she could rest her head against his shoulder as he draped his arm around her.

“She’s a bit different, my Alice,” he cautioned.

“And we aren’t?” she challenged. “Tonight at dinner, let me handle my parents. We’ll tell them what happened and make plans to seek out Alice. Henry said she’s with someone called Robin—does that name mean anything to you?”

“Aye, that’s Alice’s love. I know where to find them.”

“Then that’s our next course. Reuniting you with your daughter is the first step toward, well, I guess…” she paused, pulling back to meet his gaze again. “I guess toward becoming a family, right? I mean, my parents will have questions and all things considered, I guess we have other planning we’ll need to do in the future, but—“ he cut off her monologue with a kiss. It was sweet and slow, like he was trying to memorize the feel of her lips on his. His tongue flirted with her bottom lip and she twined her fingers in his hair.

Pulling back to meet her eyes, Killian smiled. “I love you, Princess Emma Nolan,” he whispered.

She felt warm all the way to her toes, grinning as she replied, “I love you, Captain Killian Jones.” The two shared a lingering kiss, the spell suddenly broken by a loud whoop of excitement.

“I told you both!” Henry hollered, emerging from his hiding place behind a large oak tree and performing some bizarre dance Emma had never seen. The three laughed, Henry congratulating them on their newly blossoming relationship while Emma and Killian thanked him for the unlooked-for but welcome help.

“What can I say except: you’re welcome.” His smile was bright at the sun and he slung an arm over both their shoulders, walking between them as the three returned to the house and, for Emma and Killian, toward the start of a new life together.

Tagging the usual suspects: @kmomof4, @teamhook, @veryverynotgood, @caught-in-the-filter, @hollyethecurious, @laschatzi, @donteattheappleshook, @lonelyspectator12, @the-darkdragonfly, @zaharadessert, @winterbaby89, @jrob64, @wefoundloveunderthelight, @ultraluckycatnd, @stahlop, @alexa-fangirl-forever, @superchocovian, @monosalvatore16, @snowbellewells, @batana54

#love4teamhook #cs ff #captain swan #captain swan fan fic #cs fluff #emma swan #killian jones #henry mills

[sailtoafarawayland]

Entwined: Family Outtakes Ch. 1

Summary: A collection of family-centered outtakes from the Entwined series. Enjoy some touching moments as we get a peek into the lives of Emma, Killian, Hook, and their three children as they grow and find their stride as a family in the peaceful town of Storybrooke. 

Rating: G - T (to be safe)

AO3 - FF

Some SwanRook fluff and happiness inspired by and dedicated to @teamhook 

Chapter One: All The Small Moments

“Hey, hey!” Emma called, coffee mug sloshing to the counter as she darted across the kitchen after the two kids barreling through the front door, snatching the two brown bags waiting on the tabletop. “Don't forget your lunches!”

“Oh – ” Henry spun around first, a distracted look on his face as hopped back up the stairs, his gaze lingering on the screen of his phone as he took the bag she waved back and forth in front of him. “Thanks, mom.”

“Sure thing, kid,” Emma smiled, wanting to reach out and ruffle his hair as she'd done so many times before, but at  fourteen, it was gesture he didn't find nearly as endearing as he used to.

Alice strolled back to the house at a more sedate pace – for being a year younger than Henry, she was always a bit more restrained, and Emma couldn't help but wonder if it was still her uncertainty in this new realm, or just all the space that she wasn't quite used to having. Both thoughts made her chest tighten. Emma offered the paper bag with a smile, relieved when Alice returned it with one of her own.

It was more reserved then the beaming, open grins that she gave her Papa, and not quite as free as the ones she shared with Killian –  especially when he did something silly to make her laugh – but it was a smile all the same, and Emma counted each one as another victory against the witch who'd left her daughter to be imprisoned in a tower.  

“Thanks, Emma,” Alice murmured, her smile widening just enough that it finally reached her eyes before she turned and hurried after Henry, her son already holding out his phone to show her whatever was catching his attention as they shared the walk to school.

Emma tugged her cardigan more snugly around her waist and headed back into the house, her own smile lingering as she mopped coffee from the counter and thought about picking up bear claws to bring into the station – Killian's sweet tooth wasn't as bad as hers, but even he'd picked up her habit of enjoying pastries in the morning, though Hook still mostly turned up his nose at the sugary confections.  

/

The house was quiet, Hook and Killian down at the docks helping Leroy get his boat into the dry dock and prepared for winter storage, and Emma could only just hear the sound of Henry's video games filtering through his closed door from upstairs. Alice was probably reading or painting in her own room, and for the first time in what had been a hectic week at the station, she found herself able to take a long breath and relax.

The chill outside was just bitter enough that it made its way into the house through the old windows, and she found herself boiling water for hot cocoa, humming something softly to herself as she found her favorite mug – most likely a tune she'd picked up from one of her boys – and got out the whipped cream and cinnamon.

“What are you doing?”

Emma jumped, grateful it was only the whipped cream that fell to the floor and not a mug of hot cocoa, a smile pulling at her cheeks as she tucked her hair behind her ears and bent to pick it up.

“Sorry,” Alice muttered, shifting from the balls of her feet to her toes as she took in the whipped cream and cup. “Are you making hot cocoa?”

“Yup,” Emma grinned, “it's the perfect day for it – you know what else it's the perfect day for?”

“What?” Alice took a few more steps into the kitchen, casting her gaze around the room to see if she'd missed anything else.

“Cookies!” Emma sang triumphantly, reaching back into the fridge and pulling out a canister of the ready-to-bake chocolate chip version.

She'd noticed a while ago that on days like this, the ones where the house was empty – Henry wrapped up in whatever game or book he was stuck on, the fishing season keeping Hook busy at the harbor, and Killian and Emma working separate shifts – that the quiet seemed to get to Alice a little more, to creep up the stairs to the third floor and ruin the happiness she'd found in painting or reading.

It was something Emma remembered from her time in the system as a kid – Am I alone? Is anyone coming back? Can I trust the quiet – and she'd wanted to find one way she could remind Alice that here at least, in this house, the quiet was just that, and that she was never alone – not anymore.

Cookies had seemed like a good option. Emma definitely wasn't a baker, but even she could manage a canister of prepackaged dough, and the thought of the kitchen smelling like baking cookies seemed like just the homey type of thing they could both appreciate. No one bakes cookies when they're the only one to enjoy them.

“Those are cookies?” Alice questioned as she eyed the tube suspiciously, an eyebrow cocked in such a way that Emma's heart skipped a beat, the gesture mimicking her father so closely.

“Well, this world's version of them, at least...or maybe my version.” Emma rolled the canister in her hands, perusing the very simple instructions she was sure she couldn't mess up. “So, how about it, want to make some cookies with me? They'll go perfect with hot cocoa...”

“Yes!” Alice enthused, nodding her head vigorously and giving Emma one of those smiles that were coming a little easier each day. “Cookies sound great, Emma.”

“Alright, kid, let's find a baking sheet and...”

The afternoon drifted away, the noise spreading from the kitchen as Emma and Alice wrangled cookie sheets and mugs to the second floor as Henry won his game with a whoop and nearly galloped down the stairs to see what they were up to.

By the time both Hook and Killian strolled in from work, everything was far less quiet than it had been that morning. They stopped in the doorway to soak up the cozy view of their family gathered around the coffee table – mugs of hot cocoa and a plate of half eaten cookies spread among the deck of cards that neither of them recognized.

“Uno!” screeched Alice, slapping her card down on the table hard enough to make the mugs skitter, her knees bouncing with excitement against the floors.

“How did you get all the wilds?” Henry moped, eyeing the piles of cards as if he was going to spot some form of trickery. “Is this deck stacked?”

“It's just Uno, kid,” Emma consoled, her hand darting out to muss his hair as he leaned dramatically away, swatting her off. “I'm pretty sure you can't stack the deck.”

“Oh, I don't know, darling,” Hook mused as he shed his boots and both he and Killian joined everyone in the family room, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips as she smiled up at him, “a pirate always finds a way.”

/

Emma waited nervously outside the school, Henry barely pausing to give her a lopsided hug before taking off with his friend Jake for a weekend of video games, junk food, and boy jokes that Emma was perfectly happy to miss out on for once.

She kicked the light blanket of snow aimlessly beneath her boots, watching as the kids filtered out, joining other waiting parents or heading down the streets toward home by themselves. It didn't take long before she spied a familiar head of long blonde hair, her blue beanie pulled low over her ears, hands tucked inside the grey pea jacket she'd picked out herself.

“Alice!” Emma called, waving her over, her stomach only churning a little as Alice paused in confusion before jogging to her side – Emma wincing as she nearly slipped and fell on an icy patch before finally arriving in one piece.  

This was the first time she was walking Alice back to the house instead of Hook, but he hadn't been feeling well, and Emma had insisted he stay home in bed while she went, reminding him that the break from the station would be nice. Alice was probably old enough to find her own way back, but neither Hook nor Alice seemed ready for that, and after everything they'd gone through, Emma wasn't about to judge him for still needing the assurance that his daughter was safe and sound – and though Alice was almost a teenager, she'd spent enough of her life alone.  

“Emma!” Alice trilled, her words a puff of smoke in the cold air, “I didn't know you'd be walking me home today.”

“Your Papa isn't feeling so hot, so I told him to stay home while I came to get you. I hope that was okay,” she explained, biting back the sinking disappointment that maybe for Alice it wasn't, instead focusing on staying in step with her...step-daughter, she supposed...as they headed back toward home.

“I'm actually really glad you came today,” Alice confided, looking up at her shyly before turning her gaze back to the sidewalk stretching out before them. “I wanted to ask...well, is it okay if I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Emma stammered, brow furrowing as she wondered what Alice could possibly want to know – hoping it was something she could answer without needing to run it by Hook first. “Shoot, kid.”

“Shoot?”

“Sorry, that just means go ahead, ask away – you can talk to me about anything, Alice. I hope you know that...”

It was more of an offering than she would normally give someone, but Alice wasn't just someone. She was family – and Emma had stopped bringing up her walls for family a long time ago. If there was anything she wanted Alice to understand, it was that she wasn't just a part of Hook's family, and by extension, herself and Henry and Killian's, but that they were all in this together – all five of them.  

She wanted her to know she was cared for, that she was loved.  

“Yeah, I know that,” Alice murmured, her cheeks reddened by the cold beneath her hat, “and, well, I really don't want to ask Papa about this...what if you like someone, Emma. How do you get them to like you back?”

“Oh, well that's...” Emma faltered, suddenly less cheerful about the fact that Alice was opening up to her. She'd never had these kind of conversations with Henry – other than the one time in Camelot – but it hadn't been like this, not really. This was...this was something else entirely, and Emma didn't even have any memories of someone else having them with her to fall back on. “That's kind of a complicated one, but what's most important is understanding that someone should like you for who you already are. Does that make sense?”

“Kind of,” Alice hedged, her lips drawing into a thin line as her jaw clenched, another reminder of her father and Killian, “but what if, what if they wouldn't normally like someone like you?”  

“Alice, Emma spoke, her voice soft but serious as she stopped and waited for the young girl next to her to look up. “You are brave, and smart, and fierce – and I've never met someone who's been through so much and still has the kindest, most trusting heart. Don't think you ever need to change, or pretend to be someone else just to get a boy to like you. Because if they don't see how great you are, they're crazy.”

Unwanted memories of Neal flickered through her head, memories of being scared and terrified and so desperate to not be alone that she overlooked every red flag that had popped up in that relationship.

“It's not...” Alice whispered, nibbling on the edge of her lip as she looked up at Emma with a furrowed brow. “What if it's not a boy? What if I like a girl, and I wished she liked me back?”

“Oh, well, the same rules apply,” Emma shrugged, “you just remember to always be yourself, and one day someone will come along who loves you for exactly who you are – boy, girl, it doesn't matter.”

“Did you ever like someone who didn't like you back?”

“Oh, for sure. Devon Sawa, for starters – I had it bad for him.”

“And he didn't like you back?”

“Didn't even know I existed,” Emma deadpanned, remembering flipping through the pages of a teen magazine at the bodega before the owner had yelled at her and run her out, “but you'll probably meet a lot of people that you like, kid, and sometimes, there will be people who like you, but you don't feel the same way about them.”

“That sounds complicated.”

“When it's right, you'll know it, because you'll look at each other and just know that there's something special there, something different – something worth fighting for.”

“You think?” Alice whispered, her lips pulling into a grin that Emma was slowly getting used to seeing more of.

“I sure do,” Emma nodded, ruffling Alice's beanie before offering her a gloved hand. “Come on, this section of the sidewalk is solid ice up ahead – let's try to get home in one piece.”

“No one cleaned it? You'll have to give them a ticket,” Alice advised, the rest of their conversation veering into territories Emma felt she had a better grip on – homework, and the day's lessons, and what was happening for dinner – it was lasagna, Granny's doing.

And as Alice chattered on about plans to invent a recipe that had at least one thing everyone in the family liked in it, it hit Emma that there was a time topics like homework and what was for dinner had felt pretty daunting too, and she thought that just maybe she was better suited to this parenting thing than she'd ever thought possible.    

/

“Henry! Alice! Come on, guys!” Emma yelled, doubling back into the kitchen and snatching the brown paper bags from the table before hollering up the stairs at Killian and Hook to hurry up – everyone seemed distracted by something this morning.

The door slammed behind her as she jogged down the stairs and whistled sharply, Henry's head whipping around before he realized what they'd forgotten and headed back, tugging on Alice's sleeve to get her attention.

Alice pulled the headphones from her ears and looked back towards the house, watching as Emma strode toward them with the two bag lunches swinging in her hand.

“Thanks, mom,” Henry smiled, putting some extra twinkle into it since he knew everyone in the house was already running late for their day – and Emma had already mentioned more than once she had new office staff in to train that morning.

“Yeah, yeah,” Emma huffed, unable to keep her frown up as Henry flashed her a grin and one of the bags disappeared from her hand, Alice's fingers reaching and tugging the second free.

“Yup, thanks, mum!” Alice echoed, already moving to plug her headphones back into her ears before her hand paused in midair, an uncertain set to her lips as she turned and met Emma's eyes. “Is that...is it okay if I call you...”

“Hey,” Emma reassured, reaching her arms around the young girl and giving her a tight squeeze, her own eyes tearing up as she pressed a firm kiss to the top of her head. “I would love if you called me mom.”

“I've never had a mum,” she whispered, eyebrows lifting as she tried to stifle the wide smile that was threatening to break over her face, “but I've always wanted one.”

“Well, you've got me now, kid. You know, I didn't have a mom either – or a family at all when I was your age – but then I found them.”

“Henry and Killian.”

“And your Papa, and you, Alice.”

“I like that a lot,” she nodded, “that we'll always be together – all of us.”

Emma nodded in agreement, stepping back as Alice tucked the headphones back into her ears, waving a shy goodbye as she hurried to catch up with Henry, who over the past year and half had become more and more of a brother to her.

“Is everything alright, love?” Killian asked, his hand settling onto the small of her back as she watched the kids round the corner ahead.

“Yeah,” she rasped, the word falling a little harshly from her lips as she cleared her throat and swallowed heavily, her eyes burning. “Everything's great.”

She turned at the sound of familiar footsteps, Hook stopping to join them. Both men were sharing identical looks of concern as they took in the glistening at the corner of her eyes, the way her smile was a little less steady than normal.

“What is it?” Hook worried, his gaze flickering to Killian to confirm that he was just as in the dark. “Is everything well with Alice and Henry?”

“Alice just asked if she could call me mom,” Emma beamed, swiping halfheartedly at the tears threatening to spill onto her cheeks. “I just thought – ”

Her breath flew from her in a rush as Hook swooped her into his arms, nearly crushing her against his chest as Killian leaned against them to press a kiss to her cheek.

“I had a feeling she'd get there soon,” he murmured into her hair as Hook wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “I've seen the way she adores you, looks up to you.”

“It's just been so long since you became Dad to both of them,” she stammered, turning in Hook's arms so she could rest against his chest, her fingers wrapping with Killian's as he beamed at the memory. “I just kind of figured she was more comfortable having me just be...Emma.”

“Oh, love,” Hook murmured against her, his lips pressing soft kisses into her skin, “You've never been just anything. She only needed to get there in her own time – to realize it wasn't biology that makes a mother, but being there for all of the small moments.”

“Aye,” Killian agreed, sweeping Emma into his arms the moment Hook let her go, the three of them overjoyed at the family moment that felt like such a huge step. “She's lucky to have a mother like you, Emma, as is Henry.”

Emma couldn't help the happy tears that started every now and then throughout the day, those memories that belonged to a little girl sitting alone on a bed – alone in a house that didn't want her – washed away by how full and meaningful her life had become.

END

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#Captain Swan #CS fic #cs fanfic #sailtoafarawayland #entwined #love4teamhook #swanrook #emma swan #killian jones #wish hook #with appearances by henry mills

[the-darkdragonfly]

{NEW} A Missing Moment: The Ripple Effect

A Missing Moment - Chapter 7 {A Long Cold Winter}

For Alma ❤

* * *

“Oh no.”

“What?” his voice laced with worry, shoulders suddenly tense as the muscles in his neck popped with the desire to turn to face her; but she had told him not to move and he had been trying his best not to lose an ear along with his hand.

“It’s fine,” her response was quick- reflecting many things, none of which he would consider in any way ‘fine’- as if she had already started saying it before he asked.

* * *

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Confused? Read The Ripple Effect: A Captain Swan Tale here

Tagging: @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @sailtoafarawayland @teamhook @xarandomdreamx @wefoundloveunderthelight @caught-in-the-filter @batana54 @ultraluckycatnd @veryverynotgood @veryverynotgoodwrites @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @jrob64 @kmomof4 @artistic-writer @gingerpolyglot @xhookswenchx @justanother-unluckysoul @itsfabianadocarmo @zaharadessert @onceuponadaily @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @tiganasummertree @karlyfr13s @asluve @pirateprincessofpizza

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