Sakura can be funny, “no, I don’t really hit him, even if Mitsuzuri says I should.”. I love her.
I’m at least glad that Sakura is free from her abusers in this, even if they’re still around.
I get the feeling there isn’t a significant amount of time put into Shinji in this VN, which makes me wonder why they kept him in.
I guess it could be because he is Sakura’s adoptive brother, and if this is supposed to be a happy version of the FSN world, Sakura deserves not to live with the sadness of a dead brother, but I still don’t really like that he’s around. They could maybe have done something interesting with him where he does start to become a better person, but I get the feeling they don’t.
That said, I would never expect him to be redeemed, the things he’s done are too much for me to really imagine a way for him to atone or be forgiven for it. He could become less of a dick, and stop abusing Sakura, but that doesn’t erase all the messed up things he’s done.
Also, Shinji just isn’t the type of character that would ever be redeemed or do anything good, really. The best I expect from him would be that he’s just a dick.
The grandsons have discovered the joys of bow-and-arrow this summer. Sharon and I spent a couple of hours Saturday afternoon with them and their parents at the Koteewi Archery Range in Hamilton County, Indiana.
Archers there can shoot at standard bullseyes, or they can set their sights on more interesting targets - various dinosaurs, a python, assorted mythical creatures ... even Sasquatch. These are 3-D targets made of dense styrofoam into which arrows stick with satisfying thunks.
It was a fine way to socialize out in the fresh air.
The photo shows (front to back) Reid, Colin, Sharon and Roxanne.
Killian and Liam Jones have always been competitive, but when Liam decides to have his bachelor's party at the archery range, Killian needs to practice-- or, better yet, learn. Thankfully, there's a champion archer at the range that can help him, Emma Swan. But will their shooting sessions turn to more?
This little fic was written for @csjanuaryjoy and I can’t thank the lovely mods for putting the whole event together enough! Also a huge thanks to the wonderful ladies in the discord chat, you’ve made my January hilarious and this fic wouldn’t exist without you!
Also on AO3!
This is the single stupidest thing Killian has ever agreed to. Sure, he would do anything for his brother, that's never something he has shied away from.
But this? This is going too far.
A bachelor's party at the archery range? It's right up Liam's alley, yes, but Killian? Even before he lost his hand, he had never picked up any sort of bow—the prosthetic, he would imagine, just makes everything harder.
Which is how he ended up here, by himself, at the archery range three weeks before Liam's bachelor's party, trying to learn how to shoot a bow and arrow.
With one (“real”) hand, and a prosthetic.
Damn him and his competitive personality.
He's watched a few videos, learned about the entire realm of “prosthetic archery”, thanks to YouTube, but nothing compares to actually coming to the range with his brother's compound bow and trying to teach himself how to shoot.
It's not that he doesn't understand how. The how of it really isn't that difficult.
At least, it shouldn't be.
But after a few practice draws, the bow failing to steady in his hands, he nocks an arrow and pulls the string back, but it slips out of his trigger and whizzes past his target, just hitting the corner of the wooden edge around it, turning completely off-course and somehow making a 90 degree turn across the field.
And that's when he sees her, standing in front of her own target, bright blonde hair pulled high into a ponytail, and even from across the range, he can see the toned muscles of her shoulders as she pulls her arrows out of the target and put them back in the quiver across her back. His arrow lands a few feet away from her, burrowing itself in the ground by her feet.
She must see it out of the corner of her eye, because she turns towards it, her eyes wide before she whips around to face him, tearing her headphones out of her ears.
He has already started to head in her direction, feeling the blush rise up his face to settle on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. She looks stunned, yes, but he doesn't think she's angry until she opens her mouth:
“What the actual fuck!?” she yells, quickly filling the space between her and the arrow sticking half-out of the ground before she yanks it from the dirt. “That could have hit me!”
Amazed by her sudden anger, Killian raises his hands in surrender as he tries to alleviate the situation.
“My apologies, love,” he says, trying his best to make his embarrassment obvious, unable to stop his hand from finding the spot behind his ear that somehow always itches when he's embarrassed.
Maybe it wouldn't be as severe if she wasn't the most breathtaking woman Killian has ever seen, even with her green eyes piercing angry holes into his soul.
“I really—I've never shot one of these bloody things before and I need to learn how in the next three weeks.”
Handing his arrow back to him, she lets out a short sigh with a shake of her head before the faint beginnings of a smile taking over her face.
“It's your lucky day then,” she says, her angry demeanor continuing to melt away as she holds her hand out to shake his. “I'm the range master. Emma Swan.”
If this was supposed to make him feel better, it does not. Instead, he just feels his embarrassment growing: not only did he go completely off-course with the first arrow he ever shot (misshot) and almost hit the most gorgeous woman he's ever seen—this woman is the range master. Because why wouldn't she be?
“Miss Swan,” he repeats, taking her hand in his own. “Killian Jones. Again, my deepest apologies for my mishap.”
“Would you like a few pointers?”
“Really? You would do that?”
Her smile grows, finally spreading to her other features. “It's part of my job, actually. I am a professional archer and fully certified range instructor, so it would be my pleasure to give you some assistance.”
Suddenly, his ear itches again. “I would… I would really appreciate that, actually.”
Emma smiles, then turns to take the path back to where she slung her bow on the holder.
“If you don't mind me asking, Killian, why do you need to learn how to shoot in three weeks?”
He smiles at her, the most radiant smile she has ever seen.
“It's rather humorous, actually. My, uh—my older brother is having his bachelor's party here in three weeks, and we're both terribly competitive sods, but it turns out that I've never actually fired a bow and arrow before.”
“So you're only here to compete with your brother during his bachelor's party?’
“Aye,” he says with a laugh. “And as long as you find my reasoning amicable enough, I'll have to find a way to thank you for assisting me.”
The sparkle in his eye ignites a fire in her chest, but she tries her hardest to ignore it as she leads him back across the range to where he set up his supplies. They develop a light banter, peppered just right with Killian's innuendos, but for some reason, his cocky grin and knowing smile don't turn Emma away as they usually do.
Though possibly because, though his demeanor makes him seem completely full of himself, he's a terrible shot, and every time he misses the target, his face turns an even deeper shade of red.
Emma learns that though Killian may be a terrible shot, but an excellent learner. Though he misses the target with the first dozen, he slowly starts to get better and better as they continue to practice.
He learns that her brother David owns the archery range, an ex-Army veteran who finished his time and decided to open a safe range just outside Boston, the archery range partnered with an indoor pistol range; and that she was trained to be in the Boston Police Department, but moved out of the city when her brother and his wife had their first baby to help him run the range, dedicating her time to archery instead, so much so to make her state champion three times.
She learns that Killian and his brother were also in the military, the English Royal Navy, but came to America when their mother got sick, which is how Liam met his fiancee, Elsa, who was one of the nurses that took care of their mother. Killian got a job helping with tours of the U.S.S. Constitution in the city, one of the greatest jobs he has ever had, being able to spend his days sharing his passion for ships with the visitors, but is looking to begin classes at Boston University.
As quickly as it began, over half an hour passes. Killian's aim has bettered exponentially, even hitting in the gold rings a few times near the end, and as excited as he feels seeing the arrows on the target, nothing compares to the relief they feel when they finally set their bows down on the picnic table behind them, with Killian having the added bonus of not having a sore hand because of the prosthetic.
She takes a few mouthfuls of the bottle of water sitting with her things as Killian fishes one of his own out of his backpack.
“I'm supposed to meet Liam for lunch in twenty minutes,” he says, looking around the range to avoid her emerald green eyes. “But I would—if it's not going too far, love, I would really like to see you again, maybe somewhere where I won't almost accidentally kill you?”
He scratches the spot behind his ear as he finally meets her eyes, happy to see that she is smiling back at him, an absolutely radiant beauty.
“I would really like that, Killian. Did you have something in mind?”
“Dinner, at least,” he replies quickly, the words suddenly tumbling out as if this is the only thing he has focused on during their time on the range (because it definitely isn't. Nope.) “Or lunch, if that works better for you. I know a few incredible places in the city that I've been waiting for the right girl to join me at.”
Though she wouldn't have thought it possible, Emma's smile grows at the sentiment. “Lunch would be excellent. I'm watching my nephew tomorrow while David's here, but the day after? Would around one work for you?”
“That sounds brilliant, Swan,” he says, her name breathy on his tongue, and somehow, he feels like he could say it for the rest of his life and never tire of it. “Marvelous.” But when he looks at his watch, it's slightly less marvelous: it's time to go, a realization that plays out over his features. “I'll give you my number so you can tell me where to pick you up?”
“That's perfect, actually,” she says, pulling her phone out of her back pocket and unlocking it before handing it to Killian. He takes a moment to enter his number then hands her phone back with a smile, but makes no move to leave. “I'll see you again the day after tomorrow, Killian,” Emma says with a laugh, amused by his obvious want to stay here with her.
“Aye,” he replies, the corner of his lips pulling up in the beginnings of a smile. “I'll see you then, love.”
David can tell there is something on Emma's mind as soon as she walks into his dining room. There's something in her face that gives it all away, a sparkle in her eye that wasn't there before, the ghost of a smile always present in her expression even as she stares down into her glass of water. David keeps looking up from the stove at her, but she is completely unphased by his presence in the same room as her. Staying silent, he simply watches his little sister, until she laughs out loud, the first noise she has made since greeting him, and then his curiosity gets the best of him:
“Is your glass of water telling you jokes?”
She jumps slightly at the sound of his voice, then snaps her head towards him. “What?”
David can't help but laugh at her. “You've been preoccupied since you got here, Em. Smiling, laughing into your water glass—do you have something you want to tell me?”
Sure, David might be poking fun at her, but he also wants to see her happy more than anything in the world.
Suddenly, Emma's cheeks become the same shade of red as her favorite jacket. “What? No.”
“There's nothing to be embarrassed about, Emma,” David's wife, Mary Margaret comments with a soft smile, hitching Leo up on her hip. But this doesn't help—if anything, it makes her blush deepen.
“I'm not embarrassed,” she tries, but David just laughs.
“Yeah, okay. Sure,” is all he says, then wipes his hands on the dish towel hanging from the oven before passing his wife in the doorway, pressing a soft kiss to her temple as he leaves the room.
Mary Margaret watches him walk away for a few moments before turning to Emma, her face unable to hide her growing smile as she quickly crosses the kitchen to sit down at the counter next to her. “So, who is it?” she whispers, unable to contain her excitement.
Amazed, Emma turns to her sister-in-law, eyes wide, before she quickly knits her eyebrows to make her seem confused, hoping it will be enough to throw off Mary Margaret. “What are you talking about?”
But Mary Margaret knows her too well and can see past any charade that Emma tries to play. “The sparkle in your eye, the unwavering smile? I would recognize that look from all the times I've had it myself. You're thinking about someone. So, spill! Before David comes back and you have to talk about him in front of your brother.”
Defeated, Emma sighs, then smiles. “His name is Killian. I met him at the range today, he's practicing for his brother's bachelor's party. Or, should I say, learning.”
The smile already spread across Mary Margaret's face grows, somehow. “That's excellent, sweetheart. How did you meet him?”
“He, uh… he almost shot me trying to figure out what he's doing, so I spent some time teaching him and he asked me out before he left.”
“You said yes, right?”
Emma's smile is the only answer Mary Margaret needs.
“Oi! Killian!” Liam says, not for the first time, deciding to wave his hand in front of his brother’s face.
Surprisingly, this succeeds in getting Killian’s attention, and he finally tears his eyes away from the cup of coffee sitting in front of him, the only object of his attention since Liam walked into the cafe and found his brother sitting in the corner.
Killian looks just as surprised to see him as Liam is to see him in this state. After their stint in the Navy, the younger Jones brother is always immensely aware of his surroundings, keeping a keen eye on the door and able to say how long any given person has been in their current location. Liam has always found his attention to detail in his surroundings something to be amazed by, seconded only by the details in the artistic abilities only he got from their mother.
“Oh, hello, Liam.” His voice is soft, almost as if he is as far away as his eyes make him seem.
“What is the problem with you today, brother?”
Killian shakes his head, then leans toward Liam on the table, scrubbing both of his hands through his stubble before they end tangled in his hair.
“Her name is Emma.”
Killian’s straightforwardness takes Liam by surprise. He expected to listen to his brother talk in circles, avoid his questions, plead ignorance.
When he does the opposite, he is struck dumb, and all he can say is, “What?”
“Emma Swan,” Killian replies slowly, Liam assumes not in reply to his question. “She is the single most beautiful woman I have ever seen and I made a complete fool of myself in front of her.”
Liam can’t help but laugh at this. Killian has always known his way around a woman, and there have been more than enough nights when Liam returned to their apartment to learn Killian is nowhere to be seen—plus the few times that his brother has actually had the audacity to ask Liam to find an alternative place to stay. So hearing that he has embarrassed himself in front of someone that affects him as much as this woman does pull a smile from his lips.
“What exactly did you do?”
“I, uh—” he goes to begin his story, but he had decided that he wasn’t going to tell Liam about his need to practice archery to keep himself from making a fool of himself in front of Liam. But his clouded brain isn’t working fast enough to come up with a cover story, so all he can do is sigh. “I’d rather not say, actually. In the future, it might be a funny story, but at the moment, I really don’t want to talk about it.”
His eyes fall to the table, where he is flexing the fingers of his prosthetic hand, and after a moment, the corner of his lips pull up into the beginnings of a smile. He must feel Liam watching him, though, since his gaze slowly rises back to his brother’s face. “She’s incredible.”
“And, let me guess, little brother, you’re never going to see her again?”
“Younger brother,” Killian corrects with a sigh, just as he’s done hundreds of times, but he continues before Liam can comment. “And, actually, I asked her out. I’m meeting her for lunch the day after tomorrow.”
Liam reaches across the small table and claps his hand on Killian’s shoulder. “Look at you! I’m so proud of your bravery.”
Killian feels the blush rise up his cheeks as he quickly tries his hardest to change the subject: “Do you have everything on track for the wedding?”
Emma has never been so nervous in her life. She felt it slowly seeping through her as the minutes of the morning ticked by, an excitement that started in her chest and worked its way into every inch of her by the time she walks back to her car to meet Killian outside her apartment.
She asked David for a longer lunch, and something about her voice must have given him a clue about her ulterior motives, so instead of just lunch, David gave her the rest of the day off.
She assumes that Mary Margaret may have had something to do with it, as well.
She has to remember to thank her.
By the time Killian pulls into the parking lot beside her apartment, Emma can feel the excitement coursing through her veins, unable to stop herself from pacing back and forth in front of her car, thankfully not needing to return to her apartment before leaving.
“Killian,” she calls across the parking lot, crossing the dirt as quickly as she can without giving away her excitement. “Don’t get out of the car, please.”
He must hear her, because though his car door is open, he doesn’t get out, and she opens the passenger door and climbs in without a comment from him.
It’s only been two days, but seeing her again catches his breath in his chest, a weight over his heart that doesn’t go away for a few breaths.
After she closes the door behind her, she turns to him, but when her eyes meet his, the blue somehow even brighter against the dark interior of the car and his all-black outfit, her nervousness melts away.
“Hi,” she breathes, smiling at him from the passenger seat.
The smile he returns shines brighter than the interior lights. “Hello, love. How much time do you have for lunch?”
“Actually, David gave me the rest of the day off.”
If she hadn’t watched his smile grow, she never would have thought it was possible. Shifting the car out of park, he says, “Perfect.”
“But where are we going?”
A deep chuckle escapes his lips, and he smirks at her out of the corner of his eye. “You’ll see.”
The afternoon that she spends with Killian is the greatest date she has ever been on. Private lunch on the waterfront, a short walk to the Faneuil Hall marketplace where they stop to watch a jazz band, and end at the Boston Common, and when they finally decide to sit on one of the benches by the pond, Emma realizes that it’s almost four o’clock, and the four hours they have spent together passed like minutes.
He is silent for a few minutes, his eyes focused on something far beyond the water in front of them, but Emma’s eyes don’t leave him.
Emma has been on a fair number of dates in her life, and most of them first dates, since almost all of her relationships haven’t made it further than that. Her heart has been broken more than enough times, and until she was almost hit with Killian Jones’ arrow, she believed it may never work again.
(There’s a Cupid joke wrapped up in there somewhere, she just can’t find it yet.)
All at once, his entire face lights up as he pushes himself off the bench, holding his hand out to her. “There’s something I would like to show you.”
He leads her back across the city to a different part of the waterfront on the southern end of the city coast, and after she threads her fingers through his after getting up from the bench, they become inseparable. The walk back to the harbor is much quieter than their walk there, an air of seriousness passed over them that was not there before, the only thing that they share soft smiles every few minutes.
“You know, Jones, I'm glad you almost shot me,” she says after a while, leaning towards him to bump her shoulder against his arm.
“You're glad I almost shot you?”
“Well, if you didn't, surely we wouldn't be here.”
“Can't argue with that.”
When they finally reach the harbor, he waves at the man in the booth and leads her down the wooden planks to a small ship docked at the end, flashing her a smile as he picks a key from his ring to unlock the pad from a chain across the dock.
“Welcome to the Jolly Roger, my second home and most important possession. Do you have enough time to take her out for a sail?”
Emma looks at her watch, but she's not sure why—there's nothing else she has to do today.
Or tomorrow, but Killian doesn't have to know that yet.
“It's your lucky day, Jones. I have nowhere to be.”
His smile is breathtaking as he reaches out to help her up the step onto the ship, the sun shining at her from behind his head, and Emma had never been happier in her life.
He leads her through what needs to be done to take off, teaching her in the same way she taught him two days before on the archery range. Once they're off, he excuses himself for a moment, climbing into a cabin below deck, and a few seconds later, he comes back up with two bottles of water and two bottles of beer.
“Fancy a drink, love?” he asks, holding out all of the options to her, and she takes one of each. After spending five hours together, there's not much else for either of them to say, and when he sits down against the railing, she sits next to him, her thigh pressed against his. Silent, with his arm wrapped around her shoulders and her head against his chest, they listen to the sound of the waves against the hull of the boat, lulling both of them into a wordless peace, but both of their minds traveling at a mile a minute.
Until Killian speaks, the words coming out slowly and just soft enough for her to hear. “I was five when my mother came back to America to get away from my father, but as much as it hurt her, she had to leave me and Liam behind. Liam was eleven. We lived in hell for seven years with that man, and on Liam’s eighteenth birthday, when he was supposed to leave for the Royal Navy, Brennan disappeared without a trace. Liam was forced to stay and was given custody of his twelve-year-old brother. We lived together in England, with the Navy miraculously understanding our situation and paying for him to go to college until I turned eighteen and could join up with him. We went through training and were placed together in England for two years, three in Norway, and three in the Middle Eastern theatre, and that was when our mother got sick. Brain cancer. Liam’s time was up, and they gave me a few month’s leave to visit her.
“Three days before we were set to leave, there was this crazy accident on base, an explosion in one of the buildings, and I just so happened to be right there when it happened. They told me that I could keep the hand but it would never work completely right again, or they could take it and replace it with a prosthetic. So they replaced my hand and sent me on a plane to Boston with Liam to be with my mum. I did my physical therapy at the same hospital she was staying in. She lived for two years, if you can call it that, before the cancer finally took her. That was three years ago.”
When his words stop, a few breaths of silence pass between them. When Emma turns to look at him, she watches as he wipes his cheek with the sleeve of his shirt, and she squeezes his hand.
“I'm so sorry, Killian,” she says finally, and his eyes meet hers for just a moment, the edge of his lip curling up into a momentary half-smile.
She watches as he takes a breath, deep enough that she can see the rise and fall of his shoulders. “Liam's always been all I have, and I've wanted to impress him since the day I was born. At some point, that need to impress changed into a need to compete, and I can't even imagine how embarrassed I would be if I made a fool of myself at the range for his bachelor's party.”
With these two sentences, Killian changes the mood between them, the thick blanket of seriousness turned back as he flashes her a real, wholesome smile.
“I would imagine just about as embarrassed as you were when you almost shot me the other day.”
If Emma had not seen how quickly his entire face reddened at her joke, from the apples of his cheeks to the tips of his ears, she never would have believed it. “Aye, love,” he says through his soft chuckles. “Something like that, I would assume.”
“I can honestly say that I've never dated a man that could have killed me.”
“That's not a hard bar to set, honestly.”
As quickly as his embarrassment became apparent, her face darkens as she turns it up to look at him, her hand pressed against his chest. “You would be surprised the kind of terrors I've dated.”
He doesn't push any further, pulling her closer into his side, but after a few moments, she continues anyway, putting words together in an order that she never had before.
“When I was sixteen I met Neal. I spent much of my childhood in the foster system, until I met David on the street and his mother sort of adopted me, gave me a place to stay. But that's… another story. I never had anyone give me the kind of attention that Neal gave me, and I believed it was love, because I didn't know any better. But he was… he was twenty when we met, and a thief, a liar, a con. We were together for three years, and he told me that the last thing he needed to do before we could start a new life was—was pick up these watches from the bus station. Stolen watches. So I was waiting for him at this restaurant, all of our stuff packed in the back of my car, when I was approached by some police officers who said they got a tip that I had stolen goods in my car, so they needed to see for themselves. I let them, showed them outside and opened the trunk of my car to reveal a duffel bag full of watches. Stolen watches. They took me to jail, said that Neal called them and told them I had everything he was wanted for. So I did the only thing I could think of, and I called David, who was in college at Northeastern University, and he called Ruth, who bailed me out.
“Everything since then has been one-night stands, worthless needs to feel, and one two-year relationship with a dull businessman who only cared about his work.”
Killian doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't. Instead, he tightens his arm around her once more, pulling her further into his chest, and she surprises him once more when she speaks again.
“I really need to thank you, Killian,” Emma says softly, and at first, she doesn’t think Killian hears her.
But when he does finally turn to her, his bright eyes the same shade as the clear sky over the city. “There’s nothing to thank me for, love. I’m just giving you the first date I think you deserve.”
“Which is something that no one else has ever done before.” She’s not sure where the words come from, but once they start, she doesn’t seem to be able to stop them. “All I’ve ever gotten before is— is worthless one-night stands, liars, and heartbreak.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, love, but I’m glad to hear that.”
“You’re glad to hear I’ve had my heart broken?”
He leans closer to her, his face just inches away from hers with his arm still wrapped tightly around her shoulders.
“If it can be broken, it means it still works.”
She stares at him for a moment, searching his eyes for…
Well, she’s not sure what exactly she’s searching for. But all she finds in the blazing sapphires is truth, honesty, sincerity, things that she’s not used to dealing with.
“Forgive me for being frank, Swan, but I would like the opportunity to give you everything you deserve.”
It’s all too much for her, and she can’t stop the tear that rolls down her cheek but quickly wipes it away with the pad of her thumb, tearing her eyes from his to look out over the deck of the ship, but the smile returns to her face after a moment.
“Well, I can’t say no to that.”
Killian reaches his hand up to softly cup her cheek, catching the next tear as he turns her face back towards him and meets her eyes with a smile.
“Good,” he whispers, staring at her for a moment.
He wants to kiss her, which is absolutely insane, since he just met her two days before, and the only thing that stops him is not wanting to make her uncomfortable. So instead, he leans his head back against the railing, looking out over the deck and into the harbor. She mirrors him, but her head rests against the meat of his bicep.
They stay silent once more, nothing else to say at the moment now that they have bared their hearts to each other.
Until, of course, Killian's stomach lets out a long growl loud enough to hear over the crashing of the waves.
He's embarrassed enough on his own, but it just gets worse when Emma starts laughing. “Does this mean we should get dinner?” she asks, giving him a moment to mirror her laughter.
“Aye, love, apparently it does.”
Together, they get the ship back to the dock, unable to stop the laughter that comes back up every time their eyes meet. Hand in hand once more, they walk up the harbor to a high-scale seafood restaurant by the aquarium, somehow able to get a seat without a reservation, and they spend most of dinner somehow finding more to talk about after six hours, much lighter conversation than that on the ship, and they end the night with a walk in the moonlight back to Killian's car parked by where they had lunch, not far from where they ate dinner.
The car ride is silent once more, soft jazz whispering out of the speakers of Killian's car, and the only time Killian unwraps his fingers from hers is when he needs to shift. Every few minutes, they lock eyes for a moment or two, a soft smile shared between them. It's ten minutes from the harbor to Emma's apartment, but by the time they make it there, Emma realizes that seven hours isn't enough—she doesn't want to leave his company.
“Do you… do you want to come up?”
“Emma,” he breathes, reaching across the car to cup her cheek in his hand. “I can't… I—I,” he stutters, not quite sure what exactly he is trying to say. “I want to see you again, and I—I respect you too much to rush into anything. You deserve that, at least.”
She smiles across the car at him, obviously touched by his words. “When can I see you again?” she asks, instead of telling him that she has never been more sure about anything, sure that he would never make her do anything she doesn't already want to do, sure that she doesn't want to say goodbye to him.
“Well, I could use some more practice,” he replies with a smile. “And I promise that I'll never try to shoot you again.”
They meet at the range at 9:30 the next day, and set a schedule to practice on alternating days after that for the three weeks, except the two where Emma has to watch Leo and one where Killian was called into work early. Somehow, they managed to avoid David all of these days (probably because he never had the knack for archery, but Emma would never admit that to his face), and Killian just told Liam that he was seeing Emma when his brother got curious.
They’ve gone to lunch, gone to dinner, and have even seen a show at a small public theatre. She’s helped him hone his archery abilities, and not only can he hit the target now, but he’s actually become pretty excellent.
Emma Swan is dating again.
And, more importantly than that, she is actually enjoying herself, enjoying Killian’s constant company.
So when two weeks have passed, Emma can’t help herself—she tells David and Graham that she is available to help with the bachelor’s party the following week that David has already taken charge of, if only to watch Killian show his brother all he’s learned. There’s only four of them: Killian, Liam, Liam’s Navy friend Robin, and his fiancee’s brother-in-law, Kristof.
Her and Killian discussed their plan the night before, the remains of a pizza sitting on the table between them. They agree that it would be a hell of a lot funnier for Liam to challenge Emma after she takes a few shots at him (not literally, of course), because though Liam’s a pretty good shot, he’s nothing compared to two things: Emma and his ego.
So that’s exactly what she does. In her jeans and a plain white tee-shirt, she stands by as David introduces himself as the range-master and goes over a few basic rules: no shooting while anyone’s out at the targets, no matter where on the range they are, no broadheads, one person per target.
Liam takes the first shot, hitting on the line between the fifth and sixth rings. Kristof and Robin both hit in the middle of the sixth. Killian, suddenly feeling much more confident, takes his shot with a chuckle, hitting right outside the gold.
“Damn, Killy,” Robin laughs, clapping him on the shoulder, and Killian turns to glance at Emma out of the corner of his eye, a sly smile on his face. “Who knew you had a knack for archery?”
A few more shots between all of them go the same way, Killian always landing in the seventh and eighth rings save one outlier, where he hits between the second and third rings. Liam takes a particularly terrible shot, missing the target entirely, and Emma’s moment has come.
Still standing behind them, leaning back against one of the poles that hold up the pavilion, she laughs, loud enough for the four of them to hear.
Liam, already angered by his terrible shot, spins to face her, his face covered with an obvious rage, and though her attention is set on the older Jones brother, she can see David's confusion out of the corner of her eye.
“What, you think you could do better than me?”
She pushes herself off the pole with her foot, arms still crossed in front of her. “Uh, yeah,” she replies, sizing up against him even though he’s at least six inches taller than her. “That’s not as much of a challenge as you might like to believe.”
“Ooh!” Kristof and Robin yell together, but Killian just smiles at her.
To no one's surprise but Liam's, Emma outshoots him with four shots in a row, landing in the gold with two of them, but neither of them perfect.
“Come on, brother, you can do better than that, can't you?” Killian jests, but Liam just turns to him, his bright blue eyes piercing daggers.
“Fine!” he says, throwing his hands in the air, still holding the bow in his left. “If you think you can do better, Killian, then by all means, go ahead!”
This is exactly what they were hoping for and Liam steps back to open the target for Killian. Together, they walk out to clear the targets, and when he steps up beside Emma back under the pavilion, he winks at her as discreetly as he can manage.
He shoots first, a perfect bullseye.
She follows with one of her own.
He shoots again, and the feathers of his arrow land just touching the feathers from his first.
Her second falls in the same position, just on the opposite side. Robin woops at them, amused by the whole thing, standing next to David at the edge of the pavilion as Kristof and Liam stand beside each other behind where Killian is shooting from, arms crossed over their chests as they watch.
Killian's third lands low, just on the inside of the eighth ring, just a hair outside the gold. Emma follows with her arrow landing in the middle of the ninth, putting her ahead.
Time for the last shots. Killian pulls his string back, taking a breath so deep that you can see it in his shoulders, and releases the trigger to watch his arrow land just inside the ninth circle.
Emma does the same, reverberating with the adrenaline of the competition, and lands just above the tenth ring. She hangs her bow on the hook and turns towards her spectators with a smile spread across her face.
A perfect four.
Everyone cheers for Emma, who can't help herself anymore—she reaches across the space between them, fisting the collars of his dark blue button-down as she pulls his lips to hers. At this, all four of their companions fall silent immediately, and when Emma pulls away, she only has eyes for him, even when Liam speaks up as David clears his throat.
“You've been bested then kissed by a girl, Killian,” Liam jokes, and the two of them turn to face him, Emma's fists still grasped onto his shirt.
“I bloody hoped I would be, that would just be embarrassing,” Killian replies, but David seems to be the only one who has figured out what's going on.
“What does that mean?” Robin seems to be the most confused of the three, if Emma can judge by the look on his face and the tone of his voice.
“You should never challenge someone before you know who they are, brother,” is all Killian says before Emma unleashes his shirt and turns to Liam, holding out her hand.
“I'm Emma, David's sister and archery master of the range. I've also been to three world archery tournaments, and taught your brother how to shoot over the past few weeks.” Liam's mouth falls open, unable to respond in any other manner, but Emma turns to Killian to finish her thought: “Oh, and I'm totally in love with your brother.”
She doesn't know what made her say it, but as soon as she does, she knows it's the truth. Yes, it's only been three weeks, but it's been a constant three weeks, more than enough time spent with him to know how she feels.
Killian turns to her, eyes shining with astonishment, but the smile plastered across his face is nothing but admiration.
“Well, that's marvelous, darling, because I'm totally in love with you, too.”
