oh hello :] i'm morgan. teacher. writer. insomniac. fan of many things. this blog is a collection of my random interests including ouat, house of the dragon, lucifer, criminal minds, bridgerton, bones, shrinking, ted lasso, off campus, various fanfic and literature, hamilton, true crime, and other shenanigans that i likely cannot explain. here for all the handsome characters with a tragic backstory. [spoilers will be tagged]
Hi! I am a HUGE Captain Swan fan! What are the main reasons why you love Captain Swan/Hook?
Oh Anon, simply put: COLIN O’DONOGHUE’S ACTING RANGE AND GENERAL STATE OF BEING. I just love him and he brings such a fun yet sexy spin to the character. As far as CS goes, I mean….she once chained him up and left him for dead yet they finally fell for one another. Such epic character development, banter, and chemistry!
Apparently my muse is on a tyrant and has agreed to write only random smutty one shots based on my random interests. So here’s a little story about Killian and Emma as whale researchers and ex-colleagues. A little animal obsessing, a bit of sexual tension, and some smutty smut.
Rating: M
Word Count: 9.7K
Emma wasn’t really sure how long she’d been standing on the boardwalk, her stubborn feet glued to the wood as she tried to muster some buried enthusiasm. The waves were quite calm today, a huge contrast to the way her mind was raging and tumbling through the irritating task at hand. She really loved her job - truly she did - but she really, really did not want to be here right now.
In all fairness, this yearly trip to the bay just below the north Washington border hadn’t always been the bane of her career. She was actually the one to first put the idea of a seaside wildlife report into her editor’s mind a few summers ago. Growing up near the Vancouver coast had put a love for the water way down into the depths of Emma’s soul and finding a way to include that passion in the work she did for the aquarium was something of a dream fulfilled. She never imagined being somewhat thrilled that being a field writer for several nature magazines would bring her back so close to home - after all, she’d spent plenty of time trying to leave this place.
That elated feeling had occurred over the past three years, but not this time. Now, hopping the boat out to the bay made her nerves spike and her stomach flip flop - and no, not in a seasick sort of way.
She’d been able to catch the early morning ferry out to the islands along with a handful of tourists anxious to observe the same breathtaking sight she’d come here to hopefully document - the Southern resident orcas on the move.
CS AU – Offering her help to her boyfriend’s brother, Emma had no idea what she was getting herself into. Jealous!Killian. Smut alert.
also on ff.net
…
Part ½
He had no say in the matter. It was a done deal by the time he reentered the living room, where Emma and Liam were already working out the details.
Placing a six pack on the table, Killian handed one beer to his girlfriend before he sat on the couch beside her. No point in taking one for himself when he could share hers. Whatever the beverage, it always tasted better mixed with her sweet taste.
“What’s going on?” He took a long pull on the drink, studying the exchanged looks between the pair.
“Your lass here kindly offered to be my date for the evening.” Drawing a beer bottle out of the pack, Liam dipped the neck toward Emma in a toast. “You don’t mind, right brother?”
A/N: Happy birthday @brooke-to-broch (Look! It’s not midnight yet). @zengoalie (Amy) and I (KG) decided to split this into two parts in the most evil way we could imagine. So enjoy the suspended UST until part two is written and perfected in the next few days (YAY for extended birthday gifts). Many thanks for beta duties by @onceuponsomechaos @wingedlioness and @captain-k-jones
A/NN: And there is a new women’s Professional hockey league (nwhl.co) and the Pride is the Boston team. Games stream free on youtube, support the ladies!
Summary: Emma Swan, a member of the newly formed professional women’s hockey league, has a chance meeting with hockey all-star Killian Jones after an aggravating loss.
Rating: S (for it’s gonna get smutttttttty) or D (for drills, drills, drills)
Words: 5800
Each shot Emma buried in the net relieved some of her frustration. She spun on her skates and looped around to rip another slap shot into the upper corner of the net.
If only I’d been able to do that in the game earlier.
In the solace of her childhood rink, rocketing shots off the boards was helping to forget the loss; punching the Mills sisters in the face would work better.
“You know, love,” an accented voice interrupted her thoughts, “your stick is a spot too long for you.”
She cut hard on her skates and turned to look at the owner of the offending voice, expecting to see another know-it-all from the men’s novice league taking pity on the girl.
Except it was anything but.
It was Killian Jones, two-time hockey all-star, leaning casually against the bench, watching her with an interested expression.
What is he doing here? Granny’s tiny rink certainly isn’t a regular stop for professional players.
On television, he was far too attractive. In person, the mere sight of his blue eyes increased her heart rate.
“Is that so?” She silently praised herself for not sounding breathless before she rifled another puck towards the net. After a lap around the rink, she skated in his direction.
He leaned against the boards, smirk on his face, as she approached. “Just a spot too long,” he teased, “Unless you enjoy that.”
God, was he just like all the others? She wasn’t in the mood to be belittled as a player by another man.
She stopped quickly, sending a shower of ice in his direction. “You should know that it’s not the size, but how you use it.”
Did I really just say that to Killian-freaking-Jones.
“You’re a tough lass, aren’t you?” he chuckled, “I’ve got some time if you’d like some pointers.”
“Busy,” she spun away from him, returning to her pile of pucks at center ice. She knew his reputation and she wouldn’t be another bimbo in Killian Jones’ trophy case.
He nodded, “You know, Swan, there are better ways to blow off steam than taking it out on the pucks.”
Emma raised an eyebrow at him - How did he know my name? And, is he flirting with me?
“You think you can help?” she asked and returned to the boards where he waited. “Seriously? You think you know how I should blow off some steam.”
She wondered briefly if he had watched the game. It was embarrassing enough to lose, but if he’d seen Zelena throw her temper tantrum on the bench that would’ve been even worse… She’d rather pretend no one watched at all - especially not him.
She flipped a puck up at him and his gloved-hand flashed up to snag it, “Oh I have a few ideas, love.”
The wink he shot her way made her falter on her skates - but only slightly. She recovered quickly. “You are awfully presumptuous, Mr. Jones.”
I wrote this for @xpumpkindumplingx who helped conjure up this little idea. Merry Very Late Christmas, my friend! Enjoy a little Dr. Jones and the blonde bailbonds girl who he can’t get out of his head. Rated M for ‘medical’ reasons :]
“What the hell took you so long?”
“Sorry, Swan,” he offered through their desperate kiss, a needy grunt escaping his throat when she grabbed the collar of his lab coat. “Emergency surgery. Cardiac patient that was sorted rather quickly although, god , apparently not….fast enough.”
“Well, sir, I would think by now you’d know-” Emma breathed, her teeth tempting his lower lip as he pulled her flush against him. “-emergencies do not only happen at the hospital.”
“I can see that, love - and I can assure you that I’m fully prepared to attend to your needs,” he teased as he toyed with the hem of her shirt and ignored the clang of his stethoscope hitting the floor. “I apologize that you had to maintain such patience, but even you should know that a man can’t live without a properly beating heart.”
“I don’t know about that, Dr. Jones,” she shot back, air stuttering in her lungs as he kicked the door closed and pushed her against it. “Seems like you’ve done just fine.”
A little Daddy!Killian and Captain Charming fluff for @spartanguard‘s birthday! Happy Belated, my dear friend! Sorry this took me so long :] XOXO
“Stop pouting.”
Killian glared a little more dramatically than was necessary at his wife while she gave him that two word direction - one he was loathe to ignore. She raised an eyebrow with a smirk he was almost sure she’d started to mimic on his behalf and as much as he’d normal celebrate her appreciating his sarcasm, this was not the moment for such victory. In fact, he was almost certain that a win was not in the metaphorical deck of cards for him that day and he groaned miserably as he settled with that fact once again.
He’d been ill the entire weekend, whatever ailment he’d picked up from god knows where causing him to act like a bloody landlubber for several days in a row. He had felt so under the weather that he hadn’t even fought Emma when she sentenced him to the couch during daylight hours with a less than masculine puffy red quilt and the entire wealth of the Pirates of The Caribbean films as dreadful company. Honestly, the way that sodding Jack Sparrow captained a ship was enough to make anyone nauseous.
It wasn’t so much that delirious trail of events that had him feeling even worse by Monday morning. It was the resolution that he would have to miss out on the morning walk he took five days a week with their little Liam, the now five year old kid who’d abandoned his pirate father for the likes of something called ‘kindergarten’. He’d been skeptical of it since day one, a fact that didn’t sit well with Emma as he lost the battle of ’he’s a Jones boy and the sea will teach him all he needs to know’ the moment she helped their excited son lace up those black sneakers he’d spent a week breaking in.
Those walks were set aside for father and son time and definitely not for grandfather and grandson time - but somehow, that was exactly where a raised temperature and his persistent cough had landed them. Bloody hell, he thought once more as he dropped his forehead to the kitchen table.
A little Daddy Killian and some domestic bliss while I keep working through my writer’s block/struggles :] enjoy!
“Unbelievable,” he groaned, shaking his head in defeat. “Bloody unbelievable.”
He’d told Emma the truth about this once - the honest bit about how he’d been in his fair share of brigs while somewhat overselling the jail in New York as the most barbaric. He folded his arms as he sat on the steps behind the wooden railings of the staircase, realizing he may have been incorrect about those accommodations.
Because yes - here he was, imprisoned and pouting on the stairs in the living room of their new home at the behest of the most trivial jailer he’d run into in his centuries of life. He should have known his own son wouldn’t stand for bad form.
He immediately regretted the dozen different knots he’d taught Liam to tie on all those afternoon trips to the harbor as he looked down at the rope binding his feet together. The navy blue socks with little anchors on them were a small consolation he thought as he wiggled his toes - especially given the fact that they’d been a Father’s Day gift from the lad who’d apprehended him in lieu of a duel. Truthfully, his son would likely become heir to his father’s impeccable sword skills at some point, but Killian figured it was probably wise to teach the kid to tie his own shoes before trusting him with a weapon.
“Food for the prisoner?”
Killian lifted his head as he tried to bite back the smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there like a fool, but as he took a quick glance at the five year old boy leaning against the wall and the several fruit snack wrappers at his feet, he realized he’d been figuratively locked up for far too long. Liam grinned at him in that teasing way he’d inherited from the woman he’d fallen into this ridiculously wonderful true love with and held out a red plastic package for the taking. It was one they seemed to have a lot of since his son had learned how to swipe the grocery list off the fridge - and the pirate brandishing a curved sword on the cardboard box was a slice of irony Killian had learned to deal with.
The boy was lucky he had his mother’s smile - it allowed him to get away with far too much.
So here’s some meteorologist Killian and news anchor Emma that was inspired by Hurricane Colin, this damn quote, and my total lack of self control. I’m not great at saying no, okay? :] Enjoy!
Rating: M for smut and sassy swearing
Word Count: 8.7K
“Uh, hel-lo,” Ruby’s interrupting tone started. “Earth to Emma….”
Oh, dammit. The bright lights overhead paired with the suddenly demanding voice of the lead camerawoman pulled Emma’s attention back to reality a little slower than she’d hoped. The faint blush covering her cheeks was evidence of her delayed embarrassment and she shook her head softly, trying to redirect her thoughts while giving nothing away.
Just a quick report, she reminded herself. Then she could get the hell out of there before the afternoon broadcast team rolled in. She had to be gone by then.
“Oh, sorry - uh,” she sighed, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear as she looked down at the papers in front of her. “Isn’t all of this on the teleprompter?”
“Well, yeah - just thought you’d want to check it out before we start filming,” Ruby explained, tilting her head in analysis. “Are you okay, Em? You’re acting….strange.”
She’d been trying to focus on the notes in her hand. It wasn’t anything big - just a little breaking news about a local power outage paired with the reassurance or possible lie that the problem would be resolved as fast as possible. She was a professional and she could do this one simple newscast without getting distracted.
Well, that had been true….until he walked in. Now she’d be lucky to get out of there without calling this tiny issue a natural disaster or without him burning a hole through her with that blue gaze.
This is so not my day, she thought quietly as she sucked in a deep breath.
Happy holidays, @pirateprincessofpizza! I’m your CS-SS for the @cssecretsanta2020 event. It’s been fun picking your brain and creating this CS dynamic I’ve been thinking about since I finished reading the book Attachments by Rainbow Rowell. Thank you so much for being patient with me and this crazy weather where I live. I apologize for the delay in posting, but I hope you’ll enjoy this little fic! This is part one (because @optomisticgirl is an awful, wonderful enabler) and I am hoping to post the second part by the end of the year. Happy reading!
Summary: Killian Jones never wanted to work in internet security, but he can’t deny that Emma Swan makes it more entertaining than he imagined possible. He first fell for her over an email that wasn’t meant for him and now that he’s totally in love with her, how is he ever supposed to admit it?
Rating: T
Word Count: 4.7K
Killian was probably the only person in the world who loved Monday mornings at the office. He quickly realized after the first snowfall in December that he was definitely the only one who could bear those early arrivals at work once winter struck. He’d determined that his preference was rare long before he’d taken his current tech job at The Daily Mirror, but rolling into the empty parking lot at seven and being one of the first to snag a hot cup of coffee were simple pleasures he’d truly started to appreciate since joining the company. Maybe it was because he was always an early riser or maybe it was because his job didn’t leave him with a whole lot of other enjoyment.
It was probably both.
Sure, the conference room almost always had the bagels he liked and his job restrictions were minimal, but Killian dealt with his fair share of frustration at work. They were constantly running low on colored ink in the printers and very few of his co-workers ever seemed to read the weekly office memo he sent out courtesy of the human resources department. The sandwiches he packed for lunch would often disappear from the break room fridge and the woman one cubicle over - an eternal optimist named Mary Margaret - never stopped humming.
Oh, and he got to deal with employees and their abrupt emails - including the one that popped up on his computer screen the instant the machine booted up the Monday after a lazy weekend.
Hey Jerk,
If you’re going to run software updates over the weekend, give me a heads up. My desktop icons are all out of order now and it’s super annoying. Don’t worry - I’ll let you fix it after our meeting today. Hope you brought bearclaws!
-Emma
He didn’t actually have to read the sender’s name to know it was from her. He’d learned to recognize that sarcastic, blunt wit a long time ago and though it was often prefaced with ‘you idiot’ or ‘dear dummy’, it never failed to bring a smile to his lips. Swan, he swooned silently as his fingertips hovered over the keyboard. Taking a quick sip of his now lukewarm coffee, Killian glanced at the clock on the wall to his left. He had forty two minutes until their regularly scheduled staff meeting - and as he began locating the number for Downtown Donuts and Pastries, he prayed to the workplace gods that they still delivered.
He’d first fallen for her over an email that wasn’t intended for him - well, at least that’s kind of how it went. Killian had wound up in Boston post divorce from Milah, his wife of five years, and had accepted a job at a local newspaper while broken-hearted and nearly broke. Working in office internet security and crashing on his best friend Robin’s couch wasn’t at all where he imagined he’d be at the ripe old age of twenty eight, but he had grown to accept it. He spent plenty of time convincing himself that there were worse things, though he wasn’t sure exactly how many jobs could possibly be less glamorous than being a professional tattletale.
The work was easy for the most part - debugging the network, keeping the company website up to date, and monitoring employee emails in reference to the compliance policy. That last part was the only task that really bothered him at times, but then again, it was the only way he’d managed to meet Emma Swan at a company that employed roughly two hundred people.
She was a writer, a fact he’d learned from the staff directory, and also a diehard Yelp subscriber - but she hadn’t told him that last bit. Her emails had. Well, at least one of them had - the first one he’d intercepted. He still remembered what it had said and he knew if he managed to forget, it was saved in the Favorites tab of his own inbox. He’d never seen someone be so professional yet so passionately threatening in a mere six sentences and while the firmly worded message had been meant for a nearby dive bar, a few flagged phrases had provided him with a copy for review.
Emma Swan calling Aesop’s Table ‘a pathetically poor excuse for a pub’ was the beginning for him - and since then, his job had become much more amusing.
It wasn’t totally his fault that he’d turned into such a skeezy online spy. It was his job to read her email - well, sort of. It was his job to send her a warning or a memo about proper use of her company inbox, but in an office that was all ink stains and deadlines that didn’t apply to him, Killian had found skimming her messages to be the most interesting part of his work day.
He had pieced her together through the words she typed and the dozens of times a day she hit the send button. He grinned at the back and forth banter she had with a workplace friend named Ruby and facepalmed his way through her exchange with some random buyer of a bike she once tried to sell on Craigslist. He tried not to get too excited that they might have things in common when she got ticket confirmations for movies he’d recently seen. He couldn’t help the way he swooned when she got personalized thank you messages from an animal shelter for her monthly donations. The whole thing prodded his guilt from time to time, but he reminded himself that she’d been briefed with the Mirror’s email rules and he was only doing what he’d been hired to do.
Okay, maybe a little more than what he’d been hired to do.
In all fairness, he didn’t read all of them. He made a conscious effort to skip over anything that looked too personal - though he had accidentally still learned that she’d yet to get her yearly flu shot via a reminder from the corner pharmacy. He’d also gathered that she had a rather overprotective brother named David who usually visited on holidays and liked to check in a few times a week by dropping a line or two. It was actually a message from that older sibling that had led to Emma finding out about his snooping.
Apparently, wishing her a ‘happy birthday’ in the breakroom after seeing it in an email from her overly excited brother had been an impulsive move.
She’d been mad and maybe even a bit embarrassed at first which led to her taking every step possible to avoid him. She dodged him in the elevator an unfair number of times and her inbox went silent, not that he even had the courage to take on that part of his work after the way she’d glared him down post celebratory greeting. His job became bleakly boring overnight and after two weeks of battling his guilty conscience in the office, Killian decided he’d burned his bridge - or maybe saying he’d set flame to his firewall would have been more poetically proper. He helped craft a job listing to post for his replacement and had barely started packing up his cubicle when she showed up behind him, her beautiful reflection in his blank computer screen nearly startling him right out of his desk chair.
You can’t quit - that’s what she’d told him as he clumsily dropped his paper box full of minimal belongings on the floor. There was something about the way she said it too. It wasn’t quite a demand, but it definitely wasn’t just a suggestion. It was almost like she felt bad or maybe even a little bit responsible for his choice to seek employment elsewhere and she’d shown up to make sure he didn’t follow through.
He decided he liked - like really liked - her in that moment and he was quite positive that his stupid smile had told her so. He knew he should have introduced himself long before the moment she tracked him down that day, but what would he have said - ‘hi, I’m the guy who monitors your email and I also might be in love with you’?
Not a chance in hell.
He pondered the idea of sticking around as he put up an offer to buy her a cup of coffee that she parlayed into a hot chocolate with a pastry after work instead. They’d chatted through rush hour, the cars outside the corner bakery’s glass door whizzing by as they made almost too comfortable conversation. It was - but shouldn’t have been - amazing to Killian how much easier it was to learn about her in person and it didn’t take long to fill in the blanks on a few remaining questions he had about her.
She was hoping to write a book one day, but didn’t mind her current job. She also took a few night classes at the small university up the street - which explained the sporadic messages he’d noticed from their tuition office - and she loathed celebrating her birthday, a fact she mentioned with a knowing smirk. He knew she wasn’t angry as he studied the curve of her mouth, but when she folded her arms casually, he realized she wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily.
There was something to be said for persistent investigative journalism and Killian learned quickly that Emma was a master of that craft. She interrogated him until closing time, asking him about everything from the scar beneath his eye to how the hell he’d ended up being an internet narc for a living. He’d been honest about all of it because yes, she definitely deserved that much, but also because he had never met someone as easy to talk to as Emma. That probably should have been his first clue - he’d violated her privacy and now, he was liable to fall for her.
Worst job ever, he’d thought to himself later that night as he deleted the ‘help wanted’ ad he’d posted on the company’s website only hours earlier. He really needed to find a new career path - okay, eventually.
_____________________________________
Of course, that was nearly three years earlier and leaving the Daily Mirror for something a little more dignified had yet to happen. Not much had really changed since the day she’d confronted him over the rim of her cocoa mug and the things that had….well, he didn’t exactly mind those little details.
His work was the same and while he still didn’t find it to be the most wonderful way to make a paycheck, Emma had managed to make it even more bearable. She now forwarded him her more obnoxious junk mail like the store credit card offers and the funding inquiries from a variety of Nigerian princes. She constantly sent him bogus work orders requesting he adjust the volume on her computer speakers or delete the program virus she’d obviously contracted by clicking on those pop-ups he’d warned everyone about in his weekly memos. She had also clearly filled Ruby in on his ability to read their correspondences as the pair of them often ended their emails to one another with ‘have a nice weekend, Killian!’. It all should have irritated him, but it didn’t - and she certainly made him smile more than anything else did these days.
It wasn’t as if she was the only good part of his life though. Several pieces of his day to day world had changed for the better since he’d initially accepted the skeptical job at the semi-popular newspaper. He had finally managed to abandon his best friend’s couch for a modest apartment a few blocks from work and he’d recently joined a nearby gym that served as an outlet for his frequent stress. He’d made peace with his failed marriage and even gone on two dates, though neither had been with the woman who made his work hours more pleasant.
He’d been attempting to accept that - the likely truth that he would never strike that chord with her - and while it became trickier each day, perhaps one day he’d be okay with that too.
Killian was trying to avoid silently calling himself a liar by the time he strolled into the conference room for the morning meeting, his eyes finding hers after he briefly lingered in the doorway.
She grinned once, biting her lip as he rolled his eyes. They didn’t speak as he took the seat across from her and he settled with the knowledge that their battle of the workplace wits was carrying on without a second thought. Making a show of taking out her phone, she typed a few keys and he raised an eyebrow at the quiet alert sound from his own device.
Ignoring me then - I see how it is. Talk about unprofessional.
He shook his head subtly as he pondered a reply, trying to ignore the way she kicked him under the conference room table. She loved to taunt his attempts to keep their online conversation civil and this day’s bright and early quips were no different. Killian allowed his thumb to tap a response, barely hitting send as their boss entered the room.
Apologies, lass - as always. I promise I’ll stop by to sort out your technological woes once we’re out of here. Of course, assuming you truly can’t do so yourself.
She sighed in return, deciding not to shoot him a quick answer before stowing her phone face down on the table. Bad form, he thought as he pouted over the fact that they wouldn’t be exchanging any further messages until after the staff agenda was addressed. He tapped his phone’s screen the moment the meeting ended and tried not to be too excited about her name popping up on the screen.
I probably could, but someone’s got to make sure you do more than just sift through employee emails all day. There’s a mysterious looking announcement from some explicitly rated website for you sitting in my saved folder, by the way.
Bloody hell, he smirked as he watched her leave the room once they were dismissed. If this job wouldn’t eventually be the end of him, perhaps Emma Swan and her teasing ways might be.
With his luck, that would likely be it….stupid internet security be damned.
_____________________________________
She’d made sure to be away from her desk when he stopped in to fix her very minor computer issues. It wasn’t totally unlike her to take that route. They talked here and there, but digital correspondence was where most of their communication thrived. He’d actually grown to expect and enjoy her snarky emails and steady text messages since that day she had told him to stay at the Mirror. He sunk into her chair, changing the height and clearing his throat before beginning his work. The adjustment in seating settings would likely be something he’d hear about later that day, but he couldn’t resist - much like he couldn’t keep himself from changing her screensaver to a collection of Disney villains and deleting all of the junk mail they both knew violated several company policies.
If he couldn’t work up the courage to seek her out in their busy office building and tell her how he felt, the least he could do was continue this little daily war they kept engaging in. If it was anyone but Emma, he might even consider it to be flirting.
Keep dreaming, he thought as he clicked out of the program he was navigating on her computer.
It was only once he completed the virus scan and a detailed cleaning of her keyboard - because hey, he was a nice guy sometimes - that he caught sight of the flyer she had posted up on the bulletin board to the side of the monitor. He had the same one tucked away in the beat-up canvas messenger bag he kept his laptop stored in.
Office Holiday Party. December 22nd. Seven o’clock. Sign up for the yearly Secret Santa exchange when you RSVP.
Killian felt his heart pound a little harder as he glanced over the red and green text for the hundredth time. He had been debating whether or not he was actually going to attend the office celebration since he’d first seen the invitation in the break room nearly two weeks earlier. His desire to interact with company employees outside of work hours was pretty minimal, but seeing the festive looking flyer displayed in her workspace courtesy of a red push pin suggested that Emma would be in attendance. His skin prickled slightly as his newly acquired motivation to put the party on his schedule grew. Of course, it was nothing like any of the dozen dates he’d imagined taking her on, but it wasn’t work - and maybe that was a start.
The concept of Secret Santa was one he had little personal experience with, but Killian tapped his fingers on the desk as he wondered who on the staff roster might have already selected her name. Sure, he had no idea what he could buy for her that would fall within the specified price limit, but the opportunity to give her something a little more thoughtful than the deep fried donut he’d brought her that morning was far too appealing.
Wait a tick, he thought with an amused smirk as he glanced down at the desk. His hand reached for the dark plastic frames, noticing the sporadic smudges on the glass lenses. He’d seen her wear them once before, her eyebrows furrowed over the rims as she’d been editing late one Friday night in the office. With her pen between her teeth and the blue light of the monitor illuminating her focused face, Killian had been quite distracted and nearly strolled right into the elevator doors on his way out.
The glasses felt smooth between his fingertips as he slid them into the side pocket of his bag. The memory was a simple one, but he couldn’t help the warmth that spread over his cheeks as he searched her desktop for a post-it note.
See you at the festivities, Swan - and stop downloading Christmas songs on your work computer. Piracy won’t earn you any points with Santa.
Clicking the pen he’d been writing with and laying it by her desk phone, Killian pressed the sticky slip of paper to her monitor with a grin. Now he just had to figure out what the dress code might be for the party he hadn’t planned on attending.
______________________________________
Killian had been pleasantly surprised to learn Elsa Frost, the lovely lass with the iced coffee addiction in the corner office, had been given charge of the party guest list. She was typically frigid with others in the building, but Killian had helped her sort out the source of her computer freezing issue a few months earlier. That had led to a tentative comradery between them - one that had resulted in Elsa knitting him a blue and white striped beanie that he actually kind of loved.
Not that he would ever admit that to anyone.
He’d barely mentioned the party while he stopped by to refill the paper in her printer when she had all but demanded he attend. It had taken a bit more sweet talking to get her to spill the Secret Santa details, but he’d eventually managed to switch things around so Emma was the name on his shopping list.
Of course, one of said compromises was promising his supervisor’s secretary Belle that he would fill in at her book club in January - but that would have to be future Killian’s problem.
Standing near the open bar just past the seven o’clock start time, it was quickly becoming apparent that Killian of the present had other issues. Glancing around the dimly lit, decked out office, he couldn’t help but wonder why he’d thought this Christmas party wouldn’t be full of work tasks in the making. The night janitors Leroy and Clark had decided to use a company computer to search for ‘seasonal striptease’ videos and the new copier had fallen victim to a few tipped over cocktails. It was pretty obvious that the alcohol that hadn’t been spilled was the driving force behind Ruby and the other graphic designers taking drunken selfies in a nearby cubicle. Killian could only pray the pictures wouldn’t end up online as he tried to block out the sound of Sinatra exclaiming ‘Let It Snow’ over the office speakers.
“Well look who decided to come down from Mount Crumpit for the night.”
The voice was full of surprise yet still smoothly sweet and Killian tried not to smirk as he turned to face its owner. Her blonde hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, contrasting with the knit emerald sweater that was keeping her warm. He tried not to feel underdressed in his blue button down and dark jeans, but Emma Swan was sure making holiday casual look stunning.
“Not sure what you mean, love,” he countered as suavely as he could manage. “You’re the one clad in green.”
“Fair enough,” Emma shrugged with an amused smile. “Just surprised to see you I guess. I thought you weren’t coming.”
Recollection prodded him as she handed him a fresh drink. He’d told her over email a couple weeks ago that he wasn’t planning on attending any holiday gatherings that weren’t held during the day. She’d teased him about being a Grinch, a taunt she was now referencing as she stood before him. It was one of the things he’d grown to like most about her - that smart, sassy sense of humor she possessed and used in nearly every exchange they had.
“For the record,” she chimed in, her lips curved yet cautious. “It’s good to see you outside of my inbox, Jones.”
“Ah, well,” he chuckled with a tip of his drink. “You know what they say about all work and no play.”
“Well, I do, but I’m surprised you know the expression. I figured cyber security never sleeps.”
“You aren’t wrong there, Swan,” Killian laughed, peering around the room. “But perhaps it should. The number of after hour policy violations going on in this place right now could keep a man busy until well after the new year.”
He couldn’t help but point over her shoulder at the inebriated group of their co-workers currently trying to hack into the new editor-in-chief’s Facebook account. Emma grinned at the display, waving to Ruby with a disbelieving shake of her head. It was the few interactions like this one they’d had that made Killian wonder why they didn’t do this more often. It felt so natural and easy to banter with her like this.
“I guess reprimands will be in order after the holiday,” Emma commented. “Is that why you’re standing over here by yourself? Because you’re hoping they won’t see you?”
“I suppose if that was my goal, you could say I’m not doing a very good job,” Killian returned. “After all, you found me.”
Her eyes sparkled with a multicolor pattern from some nearby Christmas lights as the muted red of her lips made her soft smile that much more breathtaking. Killian nearly forgot where they were as his eyes met hers, the connection between them suddenly thick with tender tension.
“Yeah,” she said after a pause, her voice breathy and gentle. “I guess I did.”
He wanted to kiss her in that moment. He wanted to tell her how much better she made his workdays and confess that she was his main reason for staying at the news office. He had so much to say, but Emma beat him to the punch.
“Let’s grab a cookie,” she suggested before clarifying. “The sugary kind, computer man.”
_____________________________________
“I’m just saying-“ Killian stated, brushing crumbs off his hands. “-that the Grinch never actually hated Christmas, Swan. He just disliked people and preferred the company of his dog, which is understandable.”
Emma covered her mouth with a giggle, leaning back on the rolling chair she’d pulled into the almost empty room. The party had dissolved into liquor laced karaoke and while Killian didn’t mind the occasional drink, he wasn’t about to belt out any Christmas carols. Before he could share his desire to avoid the spotlight, Emma had commandeered a plate of gingerbread cookies from the snack table and nudged him toward the vacant office down the hall.
“I’ve never thought of it that way,” she finally said. “It’s a decent point though I guess. Here I thought your issue with Christmas was just the repetitive music.”
“Ah, speaking of music,” Killian replied, pulling a small package tied with a red bow from behind his back. “Thought you could use some legally procured holiday tunes.”
Emma raised an eyebrow as she took the gift, her curiosity obviously piqued by the simple wrapping. Killian tried not to feel too foolish as she opened the square parcel. He was nearly positive that he wasn’t doing this whole Secret Santa wrong, but the adorable smirk spreading across her face made him wonder if that was okay.
“I guess this is you saying you’re my Secret Santa?”
“Well, no,” he smiled before handing her the pair of glasses he’d taken from her desk. “But this is.”
“Hey, I’ve been looking for these!”
“Swan, you are always looking for those.”
She rolled her gaze before slipping the frames over her nose, her cheeks pink with amusement. She immediately set to reading the track listing on the back of the case holding the gift he’d spent the afternoon creating.
“I have to say it’s been a while since I’ve been given a mixtape,” Emma offered, peering at him over her glasses. “You’re quite the traditionalist, aren’t you?”
“I figured I was merely doing a service by making sure you weren’t listening to that bloody Mariah Carey song anymore on company time,” he taunted with a waggling eyebrow. “Besides, you can’t go wrong with Bing Crosby, love.”
“You’re just full of surprises,” she replied with a happiness he hadn’t seen before. “Is there more?”
More, Killian thought as the word echoed through his head. There would always be more when it came to Emma Swan and while he’d known that himself for a while now, he wasn’t sure how to admit that to her. The air around them seemed to still as he watched her tilt her head quizzically. He wasn’t sure when she’d slid her chair nearer, but as her knee bumped against his, Killian felt a comfort in the closeness that he hadn’t known in years.
This was it - his moment. After everything and nothing they’d been through, he’d been gifted this tiny instance to tell her the truth. He’d imagined how this might go many times, but sitting in the building where he had fallen for her was strangely right. He knew what he needed to do.
“Emma, I-“
“Emma! Come on!”
Killian felt his entire body freeze as he processed the loud, inviting command coming from the makeshift stage up the hallway. Ruby, he realized as he watched Emma turn toward the beckoning call. He couldn’t stop the labored sigh that escaped his lips as he watched her stand slowly.
“I guess I should see what that’s all about,” Emma said wearily, tucking her hair behind her ear. “She’s never had the best timing - or tolerance.”
Killian felt the seconds slip through his dexterous fingers as he smiled sadly, knowing that perhaps he’d missed his window. Emma clutched the CD case loosely as she moved toward the small doorway.
“Killian,” her voice offered, a hint of nervousness in her tone. “Have a Merry Christmas.”
The simple sentiment hung in the air as the office door shut behind her, leaving Killian to slump in the leather desk chair with a groan. As he glanced toward the exit, he immediately noticed that something had fallen from the top of the doorway to the ground when she’d left. It didn’t take long to piece together what it was or just how appropriate it was for his now lonely night.
Mistletoe. Dammit, he thought as his forehead fell onto the cold desktop.
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