#cssv 2018

[daeneryskairipa]

Happy Valentine’s Day, @royalconsortkillian​! ❤️

[solosprincess]

Be my forever

Happy Valentine’s Day to my CSSV, @searchingwardrobes ~!!! Though our correspondence has been short, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed it and am so very glad to have you as a shipmate! Hope your day is filled with chocolate and an endless supply of cs fluff!!! ^O^ please do not repost or remove caption! :) [ art blog || main ]

[gingerchangeling]

CSSV- Alpha Cygni

When one of the brightest stars in the northern sky suddenly goes missing, Killian Jones is assigned to figure out why.

Written for CSSV 2018 for @shipsxahoy requested AU with fantasy/sci-fi elements, work rivals, soul mates, and inspired by Stardust with a little angst and smut thrown in. Hope you like it!!!!!

Here it is on Ao3 and FF!

           Killian looked into his telescope and swore explosively. Again. Robin, his computer technician, looked up at him reproachfully.

            “Swearing at it isn’t going to fix anything, mate.”

            “Rob- there is a bloody star vanishing from the sky for weeks at a time… I think swearing at it is exactly what is called for.”

            Robin shrugged, “We still haven’t ruled out every explanation for it yet. Although…” Robin petered off as they both did a mental tally of everything they had ruled out. And the list was long. Very long.

            The particular star in question was one of the few points within the Cygnus constellation that was actually a local star and not a far off galaxy. Killian had been studying the Cygnus constellation for almost the entirety of his career. It was the constellation that had first interested him in astronomy when he was a boy, listening to his brother weave yarns about how the little points of light got to be where they are.

            Liam had always enjoyed telling him stories, and when his brother died, Killian decided to study the stars and learn their true stories to honor his memory. He wanted to know everything he could about the sky, so when he met his brother on the other side, he could tell Liam exactly how wrong he was about the Swan got into the stars.

            That was how he had met Robin- they had been in the same undergraduate courses together, and once they’d met, they stayed friends, finally ending up at the research lab on the shores of Maine together.

            And it was together that they had discovered, or rather witnessed, the strangest phenomenon that either of them had ever seen.

            Killian woke to a searing pain in his chest, right above his heart, that seemed to travel outward all over his body. As the minutes passed, the burning sensation seemed to focus into nine points of fire across his back. Then the pain slowly faded.

            Extremely unsettled, he scrambled out of bed to hurry to the bathroom, flipping on the light and squinting at his reflection in the glare. Nothing about his face seemed amiss, so he hastily turned and craned his head over his shoulder to look at his back.

            And froze.

            A series of golden spots shimmered across his skin. For some reason their randomness felt familiar, but he was too worried about how the bloody hell he had glowing spots on his skin to worry about what those spots might look like.

            He had quickly called into work to let them know that he wasn’t going to make it in that day before he went to call his dermatologist, not realizing it was just past six in the morning. Trying to calm himself down, he left a message asking for the first available time that day before he sat himself down at his laptop.

            Surprisingly, typing in ‘mysterious golden spots’ revealed results from prestigious scientific journals, and he quickly clicked on a link. It described a phenomenon not understood by science in which people would spontaneously acquire these golden spots, which were formed out of an element unknown to modern day science. These spots usually seemed random at first. But studies showed that people had come to realize the spots formulated some type of image that bore significance to the individual.

            But the more pressing matter of interest for him came from the studies that found that these spots did not just appear on random people. They always formed in pairs, at the same moment. The bearers would share either the same configuration of spots, or would have designs that compliment each other. The bearers of these matching or complimentary designs were perfectly compatible. Sometimes it was as a romantic partner, sometimes as the perfect friend, sometimes as the ideal quasi-parent-child relationship.

            Killian gathered that it didn’t really matter what the relationship ended up as, it was always the most meaningful relationship of those people’s lives. But Killian also noticed that these people  were studied, had their lives scrutinized, and invaded as science tried to understand them.

            Killian realized that if he were to report the appearance of his spots to anyone, he would never be able to do what he loved again. And it was perhaps a bit selfish, but he did not want to sacrifice his life to become some kind of lab rat. So he decided to keep his newest physical addition to himself, and hope that there were no other side effects of the ‘soul spots.’

            Having decided, he called his dermatologist to cancel. And then informed work that he would still be going in. And his day only got weirder from there.

            When he arrived at the office, the whole place was abuzz. People were frantically dashing back and forth, shouting and yelling. Killian had no idea what was going on. He tried to stop a few people, but after the third “ITS MISSING” he gave up and hurried to the office he shared with Robin.

            Robin was staring at his already booted up screen, a pile of paper coffee cups littering the area around his desk, shoulders hunched over and tense.

            “Rob?” Killian tried carefully.

            Robin continued to stare at the screen for several more moments before seeming to register that Killian had spoken.

            “I’m glad you’re here mate, now we might be able to figure it out.”

            “Rob, Rob. I have no bloody clue what’s going on. Figure what out?”

            That seemed to get Robin’s attention. He turned to stare at Killian with wide eyes, “What do you mean you don’t know?”

            “No one has bloody told me anything. Rob.”

            “Killian- Alpha Cygni is gone.”

            “.................WHAT?”

            “Aye, it was all over the news this morning. When Cygnus came above the horizon last night Alpha Cygni was not observable from anywhere in the world. No one is really sure what the hell is going on. Between Australia dropping the constellation and Hawaii picking it up on its scopes, the whole bloody star went missing.”

            “How is that possible?”

            “That’s what every astronomer on earth is trying to figure out.”

            Killian was trying to process that fact that one of the brightest stars in the northern sky had somehow decided to take a vacation.

            Two years had passed since that night, during which  the world had transformed, both professionally and personally, for Killian. He and Robin had been assigned to watch Alpha Cygni, and figure out why one of the most well known stars in history was gone. He had lost his guiding star in the night sky, and he had somehow been chosen by fate to have a partner out there in the world who was supposed to be his other half, if he could find them.

            And so far, he was not making any progress on either. Alpha Cygni remained mysterious, and his soul mate was MIA. And while he could understand not finding his soulmate, there were 7 billion people on Earth after all, he could not understand why the stars had suddenly decided to no longer abide by the universal laws of physics.

            Killian had spent the last three weeks staring fruitlessly into his telescope. Taking measurement after measurement, performing calculation after calculation, and nothing- from black holes to the emergence of alternate dimensions- could explain where his star had gone.

            And his many sleepless nights were beginning to get to him. He started talking out loud, engaging in conversations when there was no one else in the room. Slowly, his exhausted mutterings began to be addressed to his brother, inquiring  Liam’s spirit for the answer, hoping perhaps his long dead brother might be able to provide him the answers he so desperately sought.

            Then came the night that unleashed all seven levels of hell- the night Alpha Cygni returned to its designated spot in the sky. He had been feeling awful since sunset so he thought he was hallucinating again, seeing things among the stars he knew better than to think were actually there. But when Robin’s computer program beeped a detection alert, the adrenaline that jolted through his system gave him enough wherewithal to call in Robin.

            The two spent the next seventy-two hours in a haze that neither entirely remembers, trying to understand the secrets of the reemerged star. They both ended up passing out on the floor of their office, unable to uncover the mystery. And two days later, when Alpha Cygni disappeared again, Killian couldn’t even find it in himself to be surprised. He could almost hear Liam laughing every time he trained his telescope on the now empty spot in the sky.

             And with the star’s second disappearance, the world had decided that a task force needed to be organized to solve the mystery. The leading experts from numerous fields and the best equipment the world over now focused solely on the task of explaining the behavior of Alpha Cygni.

            And two years later nothing had changed. Well, nothing except-

            “Hey, Jones!”

            Killian couldn’t help the fond but exasperated sigh that left him. Emma Swan. As mysterious as the constellation that bore her name. Originally one of Killian’s least favorite people.

            The day after Alpha Cygni disappeared, he had been introduced to the newest member of the research lab. She had been dressed formally, and that was about all Killian could remember from that meeting. Well that and-

            “Pleasure to meet you, love. I’m Killian Jones, I run the-”

            “I know who you are, Jones. And don’t call me love.”

            Killian’s brain couldn’t keep up with the conversation after the weird twenty-four hours he had.

            “Ok, sorry. Who are you?”

            She raised an eyebrow at him, “My name is Emma Swan. I am metaphysicist.”

            “Ah a fake scientist then. Wonderful.”

            He didn’t realize what words were leaving his mouth until after he had said them. He winced, but the damage was done.

            “Ah,” Emma had responded coolly. “An asshole then. Wonderful.” Killian had wanted to apologize, but Emma just had to one-up him. “At least my field is somewhat useful to humanity, and I don’t waste time staring at things that have no effect on humanity. Except wasting money on your salary of course.”

            Then she’d turned and marched away, leaving Killian extremely disgruntled in her wake.

            Each interaction they had after that was a series of thrown barbs until one hit a little too deeply and the wounded would march off in a huff. Until the day before Alpha Cygni’s first appearance, Killian decided that he needed food at three in the morning and ambled down to the cafeteria. All the while, he was chatting with the hallucination of Liam that he had acquired over the last few days.

            “No Liam, I am not going to let this drop. I have to know why it’s doing it so that when I finally die, I can tell you…….. NO-I am not being depressing. We all die, you are proof of that. I just want to do something useful with my life before I go. I want to make sure I don’t leave things behind….. Things like me…..” and he had broken down into sobs, suddenly realizing he was talking to a ghost, haunted by his own mind.

            Then he’d heard a quiet, “Jones? Are you alright?” then he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and looked up to see none other than a tired looking Emma Swan.

            “Oh look, brother, it's the mean nasty swan. Just like our star.” He couldn't help the slightly hysterical giggle that dissolved into a fresh wave of tears. “I’m sorry, brother. I miss you….I’ll stop bothering you.”

            “Jones? …. Killian?” he felt the hand on his shoulder slide down to rub his back, and for some reason, he thought that he felt his newly acquired spots tingle and warm under the touch. But his brain really wasn’t letting him think more than one line of thought at a time. And his brain seemed to have returned to its reason for leaving his office in the first place...

            “Hungry,” he mumbled.

            He heard her let out a soft chuckle. “Ok Jones, let’s get you something a little better than vending machine food. Come on up you, get.”

            Then he felt hands pulling him up and supporting him.He had no energy left in him to fight as Swan guided him into another part of the building. He wasn’t sure how long he managed to put one foot in front of the other, but the next thing his brain was actively aware of was Swan lowering him onto a couch. She whispered something but he couldn’t say what it was.

            When he woke the next morning, sprawled out across Swan’s couch, he felt refreshed in a way that only deep sleep after being awake too long could provide. He noticed a plate with a sandwich on it and a hastily scribbled message on a torn piece of notebook paper.

            Morning Jones, Hope you are feeling better now that you’ve slept like a normal person. Have the sandwich before you go back to whatever weird thing you have going on. I’ll be out of town for the next few days, so don’t lose it while I’m away. I am going on a research trip and had to finish some stuff off, that’s why I was here last night. Make sure you lock my door when you leave- the spare key is stuck behind the top of the whiteboard. And don’t fuck with my stuff Jones.

            And it was that night that changed things between them. She never brought up what she had heard him say that night, and he never asked where she had gone. She became his sounding board. Listening to his theories and making sure that he didn’t spiral into the hole he had found that first ‘cycle,’ as he’d taken to calling them. Rob called it “his time of the month” because whenever Alpha Cygni reappeared in the sky, Killian always felt horrible, slept poorly, and as a result, was always irritable.

            And in return, he helped her with her equations when he could. After he’d woken, he’d looked around her office and realized that, far from trying to prove some weird theory about higher sentience, she was using the theories presented by metaphysics as a basis in her alternate approach to the unification of quantum string theory and the general theory of relativity.

            In short, Swan was trying to find the God Complex. The unifying theory of everything that would, according to the mathematical hypothesis, allow the equation to predict every event, every action, and every outcome everywhere in the universe.   

            And he realized that not only was Emma Swan a marvel, but she was probably smarter than the whole rest of the institute put together if her seamless equations were anything to go by. But he couldn’t resist a little ribbing- it was Emma Swan after all.

            So he circled a small part of the equation she had on the whiteboard that was discussing the transverse properties of mirror Boson particles and told her she was taking the idea of mirroring too literally. There was no perfect reflection in the universe.

            The morning after Alpha Cygni vanished again, Swan marched into his office with a scowl on her face. He swallowed nervously and Robin sat in his chair munching on tortilla chips like he was watching some kind of soap opera.

            “Jones, what the hell?”

            “It was just a joke Swan that’s all, honestly, I didn’t-”

            “You found the piece I was missing you asshole! Now the equation works with the uncertainty variable I added and I’m so fucking pissed. How did you think of it?”

            And there began the oddest friendship that Killian had ever had. They were always shoving each other forward but trying to trip each other at the same time.

            And Killian loved it. And the night she had made a breakthrough, a year and a half after they had met, and convinced him to come and drink rum with her, he listened to her describe the dance of the universe.  How perfectly everything fit together, and he realized that despite being destined to meet someone who had spots on them, he might have fallen a little bit in love with the tempestuous Emma Swan.

            “Whatever can I do for you Swan?” he said, turning to smile at her as she walked into his office. She gave him an answering smile.

            “I’m off until next week ok?” she said, running a hand through her hair. She looked exhausted. She always did before she left.

            “Aye, Swan I remember. Stay safe, don’t waste too much time.”

            She rolled her eyes at his comment but dipped her head then hurried off. Killian swallowed again, this time feeling butterflies settle in his stomach.

            “You sure you still want to do this?” asked Robin, quietly. “The cycle is gonna start any day now.”

            Killian nodded, “I know. But I have to know.”

            He wasn’t sure what prompted him to do it. She had never done anything to make him suspicious. Never seemed to have any malintent. But for some reason, Killian couldn’t shake the feeling that Emma was hiding something from him.

            So one late night after a shot of rum too many, he had used his clearance to access a multitude of national databases. And what he found scared him.

            Emma Swan did not exist anywhere. There were no birth records, college admittances, even parking tickets. Up until she arrived at their research center two years ago, Emma Swan did not exist. But the most disturbing was there were no flight records anywhere in the last two years. When Emma Swan left to do “research,” she wasn’t going anywhere.

            And he had to know.

            Five minutes after Emma left, he gathered his things to leave as well, shooting Robin a significant look, and he nodded solemnly in return. As Killian got into his car, Robin sent him the GPS signal they had planted on Emma’s car, and the chase was on.

            She drove for miles without stopping, straight into the heart of the empty woods. Killian tailed about five miles behind her, making sure to keep the distance broad enough to not attract her attention. Once he saw that she had stopped, he got as close as he dared before leaving his car to follow her through the woods on foot.

            When her signal indicated that she was only a few hundred feet away, he silenced his phone and continued forward quietly. Until he heard a god awful scream rend the forest air.

            Throwing aside all pretenses, he made a mad dash to where Swan was. And pulled up just short of the tree line in a clearing to watch the scene unfold.

            A crooked looking man with scaly skin laughed maniacally, “You broke our deal, dearie. You said that if I brought you down, you’d marry my son.”

            “Your son left. I did nothing.”

            The creature snarled, “No! Bae will come back. You made him want to leave.”

            Emma laughed, but it was a cruel sound Killian had never heard before, “I did no such thing. And he will never come back, Dark One. You may have influence over all of the dark matter and energy in the universe, but even you cannot force someone to love another.”

            But the demon’s cackle was even more alarming. “But that’s where you’re wrong dearie.”

            Killian could tell that Emma was not expecting that answer. Killian didn’t understand what was being said. Dark One? Dark Energy?

            “You see dearie, when a star falls to earth, they require an anchor of sorts to keep them here. Up until recently, when stars fell, no one noticed, they had always been too faint in the night sky to alarm the rest of the pathetic population of this planet. So no one ever cared. No one ever did the math.” He noticed Emma stiffen. Killian felt his heart speed up. Fallen stars?

             “You see dearie, your adventures on earth haven’t only affected you. No- somewhere out there is a poor lonely soul embedded with the matter at the heart of all you stars, just wondering who their lifetime partner is.” The demon gestured grandly. “And their link to you is stronger than any other ever made because they have anchored you to earth even when you had to withdraw back to your place to keep your light. I can only imagine how excruciating it was, to have you leaving the planet every month.”

            Suddenly, everything fell into place. The mysterious spots, the odd patterns of Alpha Cygni, the way he was always feeling sick when it was back in the sky. The nine dots on his back. The ten points of the Cygnus Constellation, minus one- the largest and brightest. Alpha Cygni.

            Emma Swan was his soul mate. And the same Emma Swan was also the star of his life, the heart of the constellation that he had been in love with since he was a child. It was no wonder he had fallen in love with the woman.

            He snapped back to the present when Emma spoke again, “That is all well and good, but what does that have to do with Bae?”

            Killian felt the chill of creature’s smile even from where he was concealed.

            “So if your soulmate is tied to you, all I have to do is rip that mark off of its preexisting host and bestow it on Bae, and then you will have to love him.”

            “That would never work. You would kill the host if you even tried.”

            “And then you wouldn’t have a soulmate anymore. And you would no longer be bound to this world, and you would be forced to return to the heavens, your parents still trapped. Your child still missing.”

            Even from the distance, he could see Emma curl in on herself as each word the demon said hit home.

            And the demon knew it, “You will never answer the unanswerable question. You may as well just give up and learn to love my boy. You’ll be happier.”

            The clearing was silent.

            “And if I refuse?” Her voice was no more than a trembling whisper.

            “I leave here without allowing you back, you sicken and die, your soul mate along with you, and your family remains trapped forever in the nether.”

            Killian could only watch as Emma fell to her knees, itching with the need to go to her, to protect her. But he was afraid if he made his presence known, it would only make things worse for her.

            “I don’t understand,” she sobbed, “what do you get out of this, torturing people and forcing their hand? Why?”

            The demon was silent for a moment before, “You see, you are a very special case, Emma of the Swan. You hold the light of hope for mankind. And if the bloodlines of darkness and light were to mix, and raise that progeny together, the power that newly created from would have would be incomparable. The entirety of the universe embodied. It would be the creation of a god, the likes of which the universe has never witnessed. And I want that power. With it, I could grant Bae the life he always wanted, with the one he once loved so dearly before you betrayed him. I will make you regret chasing my son away.”

            Somewhere in the middle of his tirade, Killian noticed Emma go still. And it was as if she started to shine slightly. He watched as she slowly got to her feet, standing tall before the demon.

            “I will never let you do that. If it mean I have to die in order to save the world and your son from you, I will.”

            He could actually hear as the demon hissed. “So be it, dearie.”

            And then the creature was gone.

            As soon as Killian saw she was alone, he rushed out to her, catching her as she swayed. His touch caused her to jump, but his quick reassurance, “It’s just me Swan. It’s just me,” had her relaxing into his arms as he carefully lowered them both to the ground.

            Her body was shaking and Killian felt his heart clench as he pulled her closer, as is he could hold her together with his body alone.

            After some time, she began to settle, “Killian, what are you doing here?”

            He could tell she was angry, but too tired to get it across properly.

            “I’ll explain after. Are you alright? Do you need help?”

            He heard her scoff quietly, “That’s what you want to know? Not ‘who was that man?’ and ‘Are you human?’”

            Killian chuckled quietly, “Give a man some credit Swan, I knew you were a freak of nature when I met you.”

            He heard a watery chuckle, before she gripped his sleeve tightly, “I’m scared Killian. My family is trapped, and I will die if I don’t return. But if I give in, it could spell destruction for the whole universe. I don’t know what to do.”

            “First, Swan, let’s get you somewhere warmer. I’m going to go out on a limb and assume you don’t actually have a home to go to within human travelling distance.”

            She gave another watery laugh as she shook her head.

            “Alright then, let’s get you to mine, and we can sort things from there, ok?”

            She gave a small nod. And then asked in a tiny voice, “You aren’t afraid of me?”

            Killian felt his gut wrench with emotion as he heard the fear and pain in her voice. He careful maneuvered her so that he could look her in the eye, “Swan, what you are does not change who you are. You’ve never given me cause to be afraid, so I have no reason to be.”

            More tears poured down her cheeks as she buried face into his shirt, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

            Once she had calmed down, he helped her to her car, and drove the both of them to where he had parked. After making sure that she was alright to drive, Killian got into his own vehicle and led her to his apartment.

            Once they arrived, Killian guided her to his couch, not bothering with the lights in his haste. So when he returned from grabbing a blanket from the closet, he was struck dumb when his living room was bathed in a soft light. Starlight.

            And Emma, curled up in the corned of the couch, had never looked more beautiful than she did in that moment.

            Shaking his head to clear it, he quietly made his way back to her, draping the blanket over her trembling form. The he sat down as close to her as he dared, before asking quietly, “How can I help you Emma?”

            “I don’t know.” She whispered. “I wouldn’t know where to start to ask for your help.”

            “Can you start at the beginning?”

He watched as she took a deep breathed, pulling on the ends of her hair, before she looked up at him with new resolve in her eyes.

            “Ok- this is how it all began…..

            When the universe was made, thousands of dimensions were constantly in flux, intertwining and separating, dragging matter. Gravity. And the very fabric of the universe between then, creating a net that slowly tightened, holding the universe together.

            And billions of years later, the collection of matter and the endless possibilities entwined together creating a perfect storm for sentience. The universe itself was the womb for life for beings made of ether, and matter, and mind.

            The intelligence of these creatures was beyond comprehension- even the creatures themselves did not know how deep their knowledge stretched into the infinity of spacetime. They could understood all. In later eons, creatures using  the best terms they could, called them immortals, creators, gods.

            But they were none of these. Rather, these creatures were the silent and perfect observers of the universe, ever watching as creation unfolded. Observation bled into interference, and so they grasped that their wisdom glowed in observing eyes. All across the universe, in every dimension, these creatures emitted light.

            But existence is balanced. And where the creatures of light were content with non-interference, creatures of darkness sought to destroy it. These creatures had no purpose but to undo that which created them. They were simply the voids within the net. Black holes that sought to eat  creation back into non existence.

            The first victims of these pitiless devourers were  the brightest of lights, drawing the darkness to them. And once those few vanished, the other lights were suddenly faced with war for not only their own existence, but that of the universe.

            The threat mushroomed  for as the darkness devoured, it consumed the sentience of its victims. The darkness acquired a will. It learned itself, its deepest desires.

            Rather than destroy the universe, it would control it.

            And so as billions of years passed a war waged across dimensions, light against dark. But both sides were still bound by the unbreakable laws of the universe. And both sides grew tired, withdrawing into themselves and only engaging when they drew too close to one another.

            And on a backwater planet, an intelligent species developed. These beings had the ability to reason, and they did something new. They asked why. They asked how.

            And all of creation marveled.The darkness coveted such answers and the light were curious if there were any. Mankind served as a quasi battlefield, each side choosing warriors to fight. People, enlightened by this proxy war made great leaps forward. But the process was stalked by death. If one side appeared close, the other would stop at nothing to thwart them.

            Growing interactions between the celestials and humanity spread the contagion of  human culture, warping both sides. A new hierarchy was formed, castes defined. Increasingly the creatures found a way to anchor themselves to Earth. Their very essence, the heart of their knowledge would mark those who shared their atoms at creation, and they would be free to live and die with those atoms, reuniting with the ether of the universe after their consciousness left their mortal bodies.

            In short- they learned love.

            And from this concept, reproduction was introduced to their culture. But it appeared as if the only way to do so was to be bound to a human. Until the king and queen begot a child, a blazing entity.

            “Swan, Swan,” Killian interrupted her, trying to pull her back from the memories that had her trembling again. She blinked as she came back to the present. “If it’s bothering you, please don’t feel that you have to tell me.”

            She took a shuddering breath, “But don’t you want to know?”

            He took the risk and slid forward, close enough that their legs were brushing. “Aye, I’d like to know everything about you Swan. But we’ve the rest of our lives for that. Why don’t we try to solve the problem you’re facing now, and the rest can wait.”

            Emma stared at him blankly for a moment.

            “What?” Killian asked.

            “You are a scientist, and you don’t want to know the answers to everything? How the universe was made?”

            Killian felt his brows furrow, “Aye Swan, I am a scientist. But I am also your friend. And right now, that’s the only thing that matters.”

            Emma’s lower lip started to tremble before she dove forward to bury her face back in his chest, and Killian quickly wrapped his arms around her, hoping that she would never pull away.

            “So, stars and black holes have sentience, they are the culmination of all the past knowledge of the universe, and despite of that, you are still the miracle child. Stars can come to earth, but have to be bonded to a soul mate. Let’s start there- what happens if you find your soulmate?” Killian winced internally at his oh so smooth change of topic.

            Emma didn’t pull back as she mumbled into his shirt, “It would solve half my problem actually. But it won’t ever happen.”

            “Oh? Why is that?”

            “I don’t have a mark. Anywhere. To match with your soul mate, you need the mark. So whoever they are probably doesn’t even know, and if they did, they’d never be able to find me.”

            Killian swallowed hard, biting his tongue, before moving on, “But why would that solve your problem?”

            “If the bond were completed- that means that each person has to be fully aware and accepting of the other, then I wouldn’t have to return to the sky to keep from getting sick. My light would be bound between my soul mate and I. And because of that, I wouldn’t have to rely on the Dark One any longer.”

            “I see. And the Dark One is one of the black hole entities?”

            “Yes, one of the most powerful. He had no need to return to his heart, his black hole, because those entities devour energy, as opposed to burning it, so he never has to worry about running out of power.”

            “Aye, ok I see. And what was it he said about your parents?”

            Emma stiffened, before pulling back. Killian instantly missed her warmth. She looked away, “One of the most ancient dark entities, one who proclaimed itself as a ruler of their kind, an evil queen over the universe, has managed to capture my parents in her grasp. And I sought out help from all the powers I could find. And after decades of searching I managed to commune with- well you would probably call it God.”

            “Wait,” Killian leaned forward, “You spoke to God?”

            Emma turned back  to look at him, “In your understanding of it, I guess. Its gone by many names over the course of your history, Ra, Odin, The Daga, Zeus, Brahma, Tian, Merlin. There are many more.”

            “Wait, wait…. Every religion was right?”

            Emma gave a small smile at his question, “Actually, it’s more like every religion was wrong in the same way. The concept of a consciousness the size and breadth of the universe itself, spanning every dimension and understanding the fabric of spacetime and the fundamental laws of the universe is a bit much for the human mind to grasp. So in every permutation of its human identity, the most important aspect of it for that particular society was used, which is why they are all basically the same, but vary by morality depending on the culture that created them.”

            Killian sat back at to process the impact of what Emma had just told him, forgetting the situation for one moment while his mind tried to reconcile these new pieces of information with the world and universe he knew. But once he realized Emma was watching him with concern, he put aside the reality-altering implications to focus on her once more.

            “Ok so you talked to.. Go- Merlin?” he choked out.

            Emma actually laughed lightly, “Would you believe that the entity actually kinda liked that name? Imagine being the person who decided on a name so awesome that the universal power actually liked it.”

            That got Killian to smile as well, “Sounds like he-she-it-they?”

            “Doesn’t matter, gender isn’t really important to Merlin.”

            “Ok Merlin. Sounds like Merlin has a good sense of humor.”

            That got a full out laugh from Emma, despite her still red-rimmed eyes, “Yeah, who do you think inspired humanity to create dad jokes?”

            The mental image of a nebulous entity of infinite wisdom responding to someone’s prayer with “Hi Lost, I’m Dad” presented itself to him and he realized his life would never be the same again.

            But Emma calmed and continued, “I communed with Merlin, and asked if there was anyway to save my parents from their fate. If there was a way to save all life. Merlin said there was- it was the answer to the unanswerable question: How do you find the end of everything? So I made a deal with the Dark One to descend to the place best suited to find the answer. He brought me here, to your lab. Said it was how the threads of the universe wished. I figured that if I could find the God Complex, I would have the answer and I could save them. But it’s become clear to me. I’ll never find it in time.”

            But Killian was considering the everything that Emma had told him, about Merlin, her parents, and the Dark One. And it was as if he was looking at his brother, that stupid smirk on his face right before he gave a horrible punch line to a joke and a thought so absurd occurred to him that he actually giggled a bit.

            Emma scowled at him, “This isn’t a laughing matter Killian!”

            He instantly explained himself, “No, no Swan, that wasn’t it at all. I was just thinking. You said Merlin had a good sense of humor right? That he-it-whatever, was the origin of dad jokes?”

            She nodded, clearly confused. Killian couldn’t help the stupid smile on his face.

            “Ok well, hear me out- what if this is the same thing. Because my brother once told me a joke like that. ‘Hey little brother,’ ‘it’s younger brother, Liam,’ ‘whatever. Just listen- what’s the best way to find the end of anything?’ ‘I don’t know Liam, what is the best way to find the end of anything?’ ‘YOU LEARN HOW TO SPELL IT!’”

            As he recited the joke, Emma went very still. “Do you really think it could be that simple?”

            Killian shrugged, “I have often found that sometimes the simplest answer is the right one.”

            He watched as hope kindled in her eyes, before it went out just as quickly, “Well it doesn’t matter anyway.”

            “Why?”

            “I don’t have enough strength to return to the sky. I wouldn’t be able to commune with Merlin otherwise.”

            Killian paused, considering. “You said that if you found your soulmate, that you would be unbound from the sky. Does that mean if you found them, you would have the strength to commune with Merlin?”

            Emma scoffed, “Yeah, in theory. But the likelihood of finding them, coming to a mutual understanding, and performing a sacred act that would invoke Merlin’s presence all happening before I die in three day’s time is highly unlikely.”

            Killian felt his stomach clench, before he stood up from the couch.

            “Killian?” he heard Emma ask, concerned. But he did not answer, instead turning his back to her and pulling his shirt off.

            “What are you do- OH!” she gasped.

            Knowing that what he had to say would be easier if he wasn’t looking at her, he said quietly, “I got these the day Alpha Cygni disappeared from the sky. I never understood what they were supposed to be until today. It’s funny, Liam told me once, when we were both just lads, that the Swan would always guide me to my home. I wasn’t really sure what he meant. But I think I know now.”

            Emma didn’t answer him, but he jumped when he felt her fingers brushing over his back, tracing the path between each mark. The spots tingled, sending a shiver down his spine as warmth seemed to spread throughout his body.

            “This is-” Emma whispered.

            “Aye, its how Cygnus appears in the sky, well almost. The most important star is missing.”

            He wasn’t sure what he expected, but having Emma burst into renewed sobs, smashing herself to his back, hugging him from behind was certainly not it.

            “Swan?” Killian managed to get out.

            “I thought it would be impossible to find my soul mate because no one could mean more to me than you. I didn’t want to find them because what if it was the person I was supposed to love? How could I give up my best friend for a stranger?”

            Killian felt his whole body warm and relax at her words. He pried her hands apart enough to turn around, looking down on her tear streaked face, gently wiping the remaining few drops away.

            “Emma Swan, I have loved you a long time. I accept you as you are, star, human, I don’t care. I would like to know if you if you feel the same.”

            He cupped her face, the smile she gave him as radiant as the star he know knew her to be, “Yes Killian. I do.”

            With a smile that matched hers, he bent his head to press his lips to hers.

            He was unprepared for the inferno that suddenly kindled within him, setting fire to every nerve ending. As Emma pulled away to gasp, he figured she must be experiencing something similar, but that was about all the thought he could spare before he had to press his lips back to hers.

            He had to be closer. And she seemed to be on the same page because her hands were frantically pulling him towards her. He fumbled, trying to find the edge of her shirt, before she pushed away, drawing a whine out of him, to pull it off herself.

            The hot feel of her skin was the most beautiful thing Killian had ever experienced, and he wanted more.

            “Bed?” he gasped out. Emma just nodded in response.

            He managed to guide them down the hallway to his room, each divesting themselves of their remaining clothes as they went.

            Once he had Emma laid back on his bed, Killian managed to reign himself in, and he sat back to marvel at her radiance. Because she was literally glowing, an ethereal glow pouring from her skin.

            And of course the first thought to cross his mind was wondering if the intensity of her light was tied to her pleasure. So he crawled down the bed, ignoring her protests, and began to kiss his way up her thigh. Her protests died out quickly, changing into moans as he mouthed at her center.

            And sure enough, as he felt her muscles begin to tighten and her moans increased in volume, her light became ever more brilliant.

            “Let go, Swan, I’ve got you.”

            With a final cry, he felt her release hit her. At the same moment, the light coming from her reached such a blinding intensity that he had to shut his eyes.

            When the light faded, he opened his eyes to see Emma relaxed back, an easy smile on her face, her skin still alight.

            She crooked her finger at him, and he willing climbed back up the bed to settled above her. She pulled his head down to press a soft kiss to his lips before shifting her hips. They both sighed as he slid into her warmth.

            They set a slow and easy rhythm, never taking their eyes off the other, until Killian’s control finally snapped.

            “Swan,” he grasped, shifting his hips.

            “Right there.”

            They both spiraled ever higher, Killian keeping his eyes trained on Emma’s until the last possible moment, before his release hit him, forcing his eyes shut in pleasure. At the same moment, he felt Emma clench around him, her light blinding even through his closed lids. He felt her light shine not just on him, but through him, reaching the very depths of his soul, heightening his pleasure.

            When his mind finally faded back into awareness, he opened his eyes to see Emma’s flushed and smiling face. He collapsed to the side, keeping her close.

            No words were needed between them. A bond stronger than any force in the universe tied them together, and Killian could feel it in his bones. He could have been content to bask in the radiance of that moment forever, but they were both brought abruptly back to reality by the sound of clapping.

            “What the bloody fuck?” Killian shifted, trying to conceal Emma as he turned to face the intruder.

            A young black man, mid thirties, stood in what Killian could only describe as a warlock’s coat, hands clasped in front of him, positively beaming at them.

            “Who the bloody hell are you? What the bloody fuck are you doing in here?”

            “Now, now Killian, that’s no way to talk to God now is it.”

            “What?” Killian’s voice came out on a squeak.

            The man somehow smiled even more widely, “Indeed. I am the he-she-it-whatever that Emma was telling you about a bit earlier.”

             It suddenly occurred to Killian that he was butt naked while speaking with the most powerful entity in creation. He felt a flush run up his cheeks, but the being was quick to offer what it probably considered comfort.

            “Your skin is not offensive to me, I can see your molecules, so please don’t worry about it. I just wanted to pop by and tell you first off what a spectacular couple you two make, and that I am very impressed with you Killian, that you were able to answer my riddle so quickly. Your brother told me that you would, but I must admit, I had doubts. I thought all the science might have gone to your head. But an-”

            “Wait!” Killian sprang out of bed, grabbing his sleeping pants from the floor and stuffing his legs into them before continuing, “Wait, you’ve spoken with my brother?”

            The man’s eyes went soft as his smile gentled, “Indeed I have Killian. He asked me to keep an eye on you. He asked that if I ever had the opportunity to talk to you that I tell you how proud he is of you, not to rush, he’s happy waiting, that he has always been there, listening and supporting you as much as he can, and you owe him twenty bucks for being right about the stars being alive.”

            Tears were pouring down Killian’s face even as he laughed. His brother was watching over him. He would see him again.

            “And Emma,” the man’s words had him looking over his shoulder at her sitting up in bed, a sheet pulled up to cover herself, “your parents are safe. As a matter of fact, this whole event has really brought some things to my attention, and I’ve decided it would be best if all stars were to inhabit Earth from now on, just to make things a bit simpler. So they’ll be calling you soon, once they’ve adjusted to cell phones.”

            Emma brough her hand to her mouth to cover her sob of relief.

            “There was something else…..,” the man mumbled. He stared down at his hands, moving them like he was counting on his fingers. “Oh yes!” His head popped up, snapping as he remembered. “Bae found a charming young woman in New York, so he’s all settled. The Dark One will be sent back to his hole, literally, so he won’t be bothering you anymore. Oh and your son- I want him to be called Henry.”

            The words took a moment to register, and when they did, he grabbed the man’s shoulders, giving them a shake.

            “What do you mean, our son?”

            Merlin gave him a knowing smile,”You will have at least one son, and I want him to be called Henry. I just feel like that’s the perfect name for your son. Almost like it was written, don’t you think?”

            “Our son?”

            “Yep. I saw him coming about slightly differently, but hey, as long as there is a happily ever after right?”

            The man gave a wink, and then vanished.

[hollyethecurious]

Your late cssv again, so I'm going to stay anonymous until i either finish your gift or the end of feb whichever happens first...quick question, since i intend to put Alice in your gift, how do you feel about mentions of gothel? Some people hate even mentioning her, other are fine as long as she's not redeemed etc. Also 20, 24, 39 for your ask game :)

Hey, Sweetie. I love that you plan to stay all mysterious. I enjoy good intrigue ;o)

I have no issues with mentions of Gothel. I love villains. Especially villains who are unapologetically villainous. Pan was probably my favorite villain, because he was just a little bastard and made no bones about it.  

Thank you for the numbers!

20. Do you like your neighbors?

I technically only have one neighbor. We live on the corner of a cul de sac. Our neighbors are lovely people, and though I don’t know them well, we are friendly. I would consider most of my neighborhood my neighbors, because it is small and consists of only one street with two cul de sacs branching off. The only person we didn’t get along with has recently moved, so I can answer honestly that yes… I do like my neighbors.

24. Favorite part of your daily routine.

My morning coffee. I am a coffee addict, and the day does not start until I have that first cup. I enjoy drinking it on my back porch, if the weather is nice, or at my writing desk in the hopes of gaining some inspiration.

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

I am a gigantic nerd. I love office supplies stores and educational resource stores. I’m a homeschooler, so I love stores that are all about organization and maximizing learning opportunities.

[yasmin-khan]

Hello, lovely!! Happy Valentine's day :) I know Tumblr likes to eat tags/notifications, so I wanted to make sure you knew that I'm your CSSV and that your fic is posted on my page :* I hope you enjoy, and it's been lovely to get to know you these past few weeks :)

Hi, thank you so much!! I’m so excited to read it and I swear I will as soon as I can; I’ve been getting home super late every day this week because of musical rehearsals and I’m just really tired but I can’t wait to read it. You were an incredible cssv and it was so great to read your messages ❤️

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Ballet (Mis)Steps

Ballet (Mis)Steps: CS Modern AU

Happy Valentine’s Day @dragon-princess!! I’m so happy to finally reveal myself as your CS Secret Valentine. I hope you enjoy your gift! It was a pleasure writing it for you.

Summary: Killian Jones is a retired ballet dancer turned choreographer. Emma Swan is a retired ballet dancer turned journalist. What happens when he comes out of retirement and she is tasked with getting the coveted interview - twelve years after they parted ways...

A/N: Candy hearts and kisses to @ilovemesomekillianjones for betaing this for me, and @kmomof4 and @winterbaby89 for being my cheerleaders! *mwah*

Rated: M for language and sexy times / ~9400 words / Also available on ff.net and ao3 / line break indicates scene change

The rustling thud of the newspaper hitting her desk made Emma’s head snap up. Standing before her, with his arms crossed over his chest, was her brother and editor, David. He had his boss face on, but there was something else peeking around the corner of his expression. Something sly and conspiratorial. He wanted something.

“Did you see this?” David gestured at the front page of that morning’s paper. A mangled heap of what used to be a car was depicted below the headline, Storybrooke Ballet Company: Is It Curtains For New Ballet’s Opening Night?

Emma scanned the article. The totaled vehicle had apparently belonged to Storybrooke Ballet Company’s principal male dancer. He and his understudy were both injured in the accident which had occurred the night prior, after leaving their final dress rehearsal before opening night of the new ballet.

Which was tonight.

“What are they going to do without their leading man or his understudy?” Emma asked while still scanning the article for that answer, which David ended up supplying.

“The choreographer is going on in his place.”

David’s statement had Emma’s head snapping up once more, her mouth hung slack and her eyes widened as her brows shot up her forehead.

“What?! He’s going to-”

“Come out of retirement,” David finished. “And you’re going to be there to witness it.”

There it was. The reason for the sly glint in his eye.

“But that’s Anna’s beat. Why am I covering the ballet all of a sudden?”

“You know why, Emma.” David looked at her pointedly. “You two have a history together. I want you to get an interview with him after the performance.”

“Jones doesn’t do interviews.”

The last interview Killian Jones had ever given was on the day he’d announced his retirement. It had stunned the ballet world. Killian Jones was the principal leading man, with talent that rivaled some of the greatest legends of modern ballet. His devastatingly handsome looks and charisma only added to the romanticism and sensuality a good leading man should possess, which made him a sensation in the dance world. Every choreographer wanted to work with him, every prima ballerina wanted to dance with him, and every chorus line member (male and female), and most patrons wanted to fuck him. He’d had it all, and then suddenly four years ago, he walked away.

He went completely off the grid for nearly a year only to reemerge at a small ballet company in London as their new choreographer. For the past three years he’d been making a name for himself in his new role, and had relocated back to the United States only five months ago to take over as resident choreographer for the Storybrooke Ballet Company. The place he’d first gotten his start more than a decade ago when he’d attended the ballet academy, then later earned a position within the company that sponsored it.

The same ballet academy Emma had trained at, which was where she’d met him.

Killian Jones.

The one that got away.

“There’s no harm in trying, Emma,” David urged. “At the very least I need you to go and review the debut. Maybe afterward you can go see him backstage and catch up on old times.”

Old times.

“Is this a firm assignment, or can I pass on it?”

“Emma,” David sighed as he sank down in the chair beside her desk. “Ever since Jones came back you’ve been avoiding seeing him again.” Emma opened her mouth to protest, but her brother wasn’t having it. “You forced me to move you off the ballet column. Said you’d quit unless I assigned it to someone else. Does he even know you’re here in Storybrooke?”

Emma shrugged in response, and looked away from her brother’s shrewd stare, suddenly finding the contents of her paper clip tray utterly fascinating.

“Look, Emma. I don’t know what happened between you two, and it's none of my business, as you’ve repeatedly told me over the years.” That managed to elicit a smirk from her. “But you do know him, and you’re our best chance of getting that coveted interview. So, yeah. This is a firm assignment,” he declared, rising to his feet and settling back into his boss demeanor. “I expect your review to be uploaded tonight with a note informing me that an interview will follow. Got it?”

Emma gave a mock salute as she responded, “Got it, Chief.”

Emma took her seat and nodded a gesture of thanks to the usher as she settled in. A section on the orchestra level was always reserved for press on opening nights. Most of the time many of the seats remained vacant, ballet not being a big enough draw for most news outlets. Tonight, though, every seat was filled, and not just in the press area.

Emma wondered if opening night of the new ballet would have drawn the same crowd if Killian Jones was merely the choreographer, and not the principal dancer who was coming out of retirement after four years. How many people were attending simply to see if the bad boy of ballet still had it after all this time away? Nervous tension churned in Emma’s gut. She didn’t know why she felt so worried on his behalf, but as the lights dimmed and the orchestra began to swell, Emma sat back and held her breath in anxious anticipation.

The opening scenes, which introduced the female lead and chorus of ballerinas, were magnificent. Everything was choreographed beautifully, and it was evident that each dancer was inspired by the steps and combinations as they infused each graceful movement with a bounty of emotion that was shared by the audience.

When he made his entrance, the orchestra held out an unwritten fermata as the audience cheered, many of them standing as they applauded. Emma caught a glimpse of the smirk he tried to suppress, and rolled her eyes. Still a smug bastard, she chuckled to herself, but all amusement quickly fell away once he began to move.

Anyone who might have thought Killian Jones had lost his edge in retirement was proven very much wrong during his opening sequence. The power in his jumps, the soaring height in his leaps, and the effortless way he lifted his partner and carried her across the stage were just as Emma remembered. Better even.

Emma attempted to remain objective and focused as she watched and studied the piece being performed before her, but the god-like man commanding the stage in nothing more than a pair of tights and sizable dance belt wasn’t doing her any favors. Her gaze lingered over the flex of his back muscles, biceps, forearms, and thighs. She bit her lip to suppress a knowing giggle over the lack of manscaping displayed across his chest. Killian never was one to toe the line on that particular expectation, and rumor had it he’d negotiated a chest hair protection clause in his contracts.

After getting her fill (or a small fix, anyway) of blatant appreciation of his physique, Emma turned her attentions back to his execution of the steps he himself had crafted into a grand romantic dance between two lovers. Watching Killian confidently lead his partner over the expanse of the stage, the focused way he set all of his attentions on her and their moment together, reminded Emma of a time when she had been his focal point.

She was reminded of how his strong hands used to effortlessly lift her into the air, his muscular arms wrapped around her, making her feel so secure, so safe. Sweat and breath mingling as their bodies moved in intimate rhythm across the stage in front of a voyeuristic assembly. Dancing with Killian had been one of the most exhilaratingly sensual experiences of her life, and his assertions of how amazing they could be if they traded the stage for a bed and their costumes for nothing but skin had proven themselves accurate, a number of times.

Emma flushed at her memories and occupied her mind with note taking. She managed to rein in her libido’s nostalgia, and by the time the ballet concluded she felt much more poised and professional. A swarm of credential wearing locusts hovered by the auditorium stage door, all clamouring for the man of the hour. The stern looking stage manager announced that no one would be permitted backstage until the performers had a chance to cool down, and even then there were no guarantees that anyone other than invited guests would be welcomed.

Knowing that cool downs weren’t something dancers tended to rush through, Emma went back to her seat, pulled her computer from her bag, propped it onto her lap, and began writing her well-earned, rave review. Several others filled the time working as well, while a few simply milled about waiting to see if they’d be given access to Jones.

Emma had just uploaded her completed piece when the stage manager returned and informed the group that Killian Jones would not be available for comments or questions, nor would any of the other performers. Friends and family only would be allowed backstage, but the producer had agreed to field a few questions out in the lobby.

Emma worried her lip as the contingent of reporters made their way out of the auditorium, and considered the words the stage manager had used. Friends and family only. She had an out. David really wanted that interview, but he’d understand blocked access to the subject. After all, she hadn’t seen Killian in over ten years, they weren’t friends, not really. That rationalization didn’t stop her teeth from digging into her lip, though.

Twelve years.

It seemed like yesterday.

Twelve years ago, on that very stage, all the members of the company and the best students in the academy had performed, as they did every year, in a showcase that allowed them to be seen by the best dance companies in the world. It was the time when contracts within the company were offered or renewed, positions were auditioned for, and new opportunities within the ballet world opened themselves up to an eager chorus.

She and Killian had danced together in the featured piece of the showcase. It was a coveted role that she’d beat out dozens of other girls for, all vying for the chance to dance with the hot, straight male company member, as much as to be seen on such a large and important stage. It was during the rehearsal weeks that she and Killian had gotten together; a whirlwind of desire and passion, intimacies that went beyond sex as they shared pieces of themselves in the afterglow and the quiet moments in between. Emma hadn’t intended to fall so hard or so fast for Killian, but the impact of that reality had sent a shockwave straight through her. The force of which was nothing compared to the fallout.

Their performance had earned them rave reviews, and though she hadn’t been eligible to consider offers at that time, due to the terms of her scholarship, companies practically fell over themselves to woo Killian. The best had come from a prestigious company overseas who wanted Killian as their principal dancer, the face of their next tour across Europe. It was the kind of offer most dancers only ever dreamed of, and yet Killian had dragged his feet in accepting, spouting off nonsense about considering all the options before him.

Though he hadn’t said as much, Emma worried that his hesitancy had to do with her, and as much as she didn’t want to see him go, she knew neither of them would be able to forgive themselves if he passed up the opportunity.

So, she’d told him to go. Insisted that he go.

With promises to write and keep in touch, he’d set off for Paris to begin his career, and though he’d remained true to his word, it was Emma who’d let their relationship fall by the wayside when a year later she was offered a position with a company in California.

He’d made attempts to contact her through the years, but she’d never responded. Then four years ago, all efforts had stopped. Now he was there, on the other side of a stage door that she could easily gain access through. The stage manager might be a force to be reckoned with, but Emma had an in with the company’s Executive Assistant, who Emma knew was always backstage during Opening Nights.

Mind made up, Emma pulled out her phone and dialed.

“Hey, Ruby? I need a favor.”

Backstage was exactly as Emma remembered it. The same grey walls, the same notices and reminders on the walls, and the same musty bouquet of perspiration soaked costumes, industrial strength hairspray, and nerves.

Nerves that were coursing through Emma as she paced the corridor, waiting for Ruby to return with the answer of whether or not Killian would see her. An answer that came as he rushed around the corner and stopped short when he spotted her. He looked as stunned as she felt, her barely audible hi hanging between them as twelve years melted away.

“Swan,” he said on an exhale.

A wide grin broke across his face and his deep throaty chuckle rumbled through his chest as he made his way to her with purposeful strides. His hands caught her under her arms, lifting her effortlessly off the ground as he spun her around once before setting her down and gathering her into his strong arms.

“It’s so good to see you,” he murmured into her hair.

“You, too,” she replied, wrapping her arms around his waist and settling her head in the space between his chest and shoulder as he squeezed her tightly.

Killian pulled back slightly and cupped her face in his hands, staring at her with disbelieving eyes.

“What are you doing here? In Storybrooke?”

“I live here,” she confessed, and allowed him a moment to reconcile his shock before pulling out her credentials and holding them up. “I’m here reviewing the ballet.”

“You’re press?” Killian questioned, brows furrowed in confusion. “You're not dancing anymore? What happened to California?”

Emma’s answer died on her lips as a man came barreling down the hallway, firmly calling out to her.

“I’m sorry Miss, but Mr. Jones is not available for-”

“It’s alright, Robin,” Killian dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Miss Swan is here because she’s an old friend. Everything off the record. Right, Swan?”

“Right,” she affirmed, stepping out of Killian’s embrace in the presence of a stranger.

“Emma, this is my manager, Robin Locksley. Robin, this is Emma Swan, former SBA student, and one of my oldest and dearest friends.”

Emma felt a rush of heat spread through her chest, up her neck, and tingle across her cheeks at his words, the sincerity behind them evident in his gaze.

“Oh!” Robin responded in surprise. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Swan.”

Emma took his proffered hand. “And you, Mr. Locksley.”

“Robin,” he corrected jovially, and Emma echoed the sentiment before Killian cleared his throat.

“Right, well. I imagine the two of you have some catching up to do, so I’ll just…” Robin awkwardly gestured over his shoulder and turned to head back down the hallway, shooting wide-eyed glances back at Killian every few steps.

“You’ll have to excuse Robin.” That tell of scratching behind his ear when he was nervous was still there. “He’s a bit overprotective of my no interviews policy.”

“Yeah,” she drawled uncomfortably. “About that.”

Killian’s face fell before he could school his features, he crossed his arms defensively over his chest and took a step away from her. “Is that why you’re here? I know your brother’s an editor of one of the city’s papers. Did he send you?”

Emma fixed her gaze at the floor, too ashamed to look him in the eye.

“How long?” Killian questioned, and Emma raised her head, brows furrowed in confusion.

“How long what?”

“How long have you been here, Swan? In Storybrooke?” She didn't reply right away, too occupied with the chipping polish of her nails, which she knew would be a dead give away to the fact she'd been there longer than him. “Emma, why didn’t you let me know? Reach out? Come see me? Call?”

“Killian, I…” her words died on her tongue as she realized she really didn’t have a good reason. Other than being a complete coward.

“Eleven years, Swan!” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, jaw ticking and hurt swimming in his eyes as thoughts and questions she knew he’d suppressed for far too long came pouring out. “What happened? Everything was fine that first year, and then you went to California and… nothing. Do you know how it felt to have my phone calls go unanswered, to wonder if you’d even received my postcards? To look for you on every social media site imaginable, only to find your privacy settings set up like Fort Knox, and my requests to be a part of your life left ignored? What did I do, Emma?”

She heard his voice catch on that last question, and her already prickling eyes throbbed painfully at the unspent tears she refused to shed. This was a mistake. She shouldn’t have come. She didn’t blame him one bit for being angry with her. Hell, she was angry at herself.

Before Emma could simply make some excuse and leave, Killian released a deep sigh and surprised her.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to do this, Emma,” he admitted softly. “I don’t want… It doesn’t matter why you never responded. You’re here now. That’s all that matters to me, so let’s get out of here. We’ll go to the cafe around the corner and I’ll buy you a hot cocoa, complete with whipped cream and cinnamon.” His brows did that ridiculous thing they’d always done, but his smirk was a little less smug.

Emma analyzed the hopeful expression on his usually cocky face. What the hell am I getting myself into? No longer concerned with the interview right then, she realized maybe she owed him this. Maybe she needed to answer his questions. Maybe it was time for her to be accountable for her actions where Killian Jones was concerned.  

“Okay.”

Their corner had been empty when they arrived, and Killian suggested she go claim it while he placed their order. They now sat in companionable silence enjoying their beverages, though Killian did offer a side eye a time or twice at the bear claw she’d asked him to get for her.

“I don’t see how you can eat those things, Swan,” he commented with a tone of distaste.

“I no longer have to watch my weight,” she contended, taking another bite of the delicious sugar covered heaven. “Tell me you didn’t have some kind of guilty pleasure while you were retired.”

“My retirement only just ended,” he reminded her.

“Well, I don’t plan to make a comeback like you just did, so allow me my bear claw in peace would ya?”

He chuckled at her as she shoved the remainder of the pastry in her mouth, then quickly took another sip of his coffee as she sucked the remnants of its sugary glaze from her fingers. She hadn’t meant to be provocative, but there was no denying the distinct sizzle that clung to the air between them. She swallowed down the bear claw and licked her lips nervously, an action he followed with the flicker of his eyes, then found herself blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

“Why did you stop dancing?”

His eyes snapped back up to meet hers, he set his coffee cup down on the table, leaned back in his chair, and tilted his head to one side in challenge.

“Why did you?”

Emma rolled her eyes and scoffed, “What? Are we going to play I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours now?” Too late to take the words back, she internally groaned at the response she knew was about to fall from his lips. He didn’t disappoint.

“I’ll happily show you mine anytime you’d like, love.”

“I’m serious, Killian.”

“So am I,” he replied salaciously.

Emma continued to glare at him until he finally shifted in his seat. He ran a hand over his mouth and scratched at the scruff along his jawline and chin, nervous tension rolling over him. Whatever it was he was holding back made Emma’s heart constrict in her chest and she decided that, for once, she’d be the brave one. She owed it to him, after all.

Emma pulled her wallet out of her bag, opened it, and took a photo out of one of the inside pockets. Sliding it along the table towards him she said, “This is why I stopped dancing.”

Killian’s eyes widened as comprehension of the photo hit him. “You’ve a son?”

Emma noticed the quick flicker he gave to her left hand, but pretended otherwise. “His name is Henry. He’s three and a half.”

“And his father?” Killian asked delicately.

“Not in the picture,” she supplied. Killian’s focus remained intent, and he gave her an encouraging nod when she didn’t elaborate further. Emma took a long sip of her hot cocoa, swallowed hard, and began her tale.

“His name’s Neal. I met him a few years after moving to California, when I got a principal position at the company. He managed a few of the other dancers, and I hired him to be mine, too. We started seeing each other about a year after that. Not very professional, I know, but…” she trailed off, thinking for the thousandth time about all the red flags, all the signs she’d chosen to ignore. “He swindled me. I didn’t realize I was pregnant until after he was long gone… with my entire life savings.”

“What an utter bastard,” Killian spat. “I’m so sorry, Swan.”

“Yeah, well.” Emma shrugged and took another sip of her cocoa. Killian turned his focus back to the photo in his hand, and a soft smile ghosted over his lips, tugging at her heart. “I couldn’t go through with an abortion, so I packed up my life, moved back to Storybrooke, and crashed with David and Mary Margaret. That was a little over four years ago.”

Killian shook his head, then leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “You deserve better than that, Emma. Wherever this Neal character is now I hope he’s getting exactly what he deserves, because it sure as hell isn’t you, or your lad. I wish… I wish I could have been there for you.”

Emma’s cheeks flushed at the vehemence in his voice. She pushed aside both the warm feeling of affection, and churning guilt his words had conjured, and continued to fill in the gaps of the last four years.

“It’s fine. I had David and Mary Margaret. They helped me all during the pregnancy and with Henry, after his birth. David gave me a part time job at the paper, and I went to school part time for journalism.”

“And where is your lad while you’re out having a drink with a devilishly handsome ballet star?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “We’re still crashing with the Nolans, so he’s home with my brother and sister-in-law.”

“That sounds a bit cramped.”

“It is. I really need to get my own place, but it's been hard to find the time or the right location.” Emma took the photo of her son back from Killian, stored it back into her wallet, and then fixed a pointed look at him. “So, that’s my tragic backstory, Jones. Let’s hear yours.”

Killian let out an amused breath and hitched a brow. “Interesting choice of words,” he muttered.

“What do you mean? What happened?”

Killian stared down at his hand, clenching and unclenching it, and his Adam’s apple bobbed before he released a stuttered breath.

“Liam died.”

Emma’s heart fell into her stomach and she shut her eyes against her own careless words. Tragic backstory, indeed. Way to go, Emma.

“Oh, Killian. I’m so, so sorry. When? What happened?”

“Four years ago. And I’ve no bloody clue,” he bit out. “The Navy wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the details… or his body.” It was Emma’s turn to reach out and take his hand. “Needless to say, I didn’t handle the news well. I started drinking, and it quickly got out of control. I started to lose my edge, became difficult to work with, and finally the company had no choice but to fire me.”

“They fired you?!” Emma exclaimed in a whispered yell.

“That they did, but Robin was able to work with them and spin it.”

“Let me guess,” Emma interjected. “Into a retirement announcement?”

“It was better than letting the entire ballet world know I’d hit rock bottom before thirty.” Emma knew that Killian’s jovial facade was just that - a facade. A mask of sarcasm and unaffectedness to hide the self-loathing pain he blamed himself for. “Robin was able to discreetly get me into rehab, where I spent about nine months getting clean… and hiding, if I’m being honest.”

“Killian-”

“It’s alright, Swan. You don’t have to say anything.” He glanced up at her through his lashes, hedging a bit as he added, “I tried to contact you when they notified me about Liam. I suppose now I know why I couldn’t find you.”

“I wish I’d known. I wish I could have been there for you, Killian.”

“In a way, it was probably best that you weren’t,” he commented, then hurried to clarify his meaning when he saw a pained expression cross her face. “No. I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just… I had to find my own path after rehab. I couldn’t go back to dancing, but I couldn’t not be a part of it in some way. I’m really proud of what I’ve been able to accomplish these past three years as a choreographer.”

Emma could see that every bit of what he’d said was true, but she also knew he was holding back. “Admit it, though… you missed nights like tonight. Center stage. All eyes on you. The lights, the audience eating out of the palm of your hand. You don’t need me to tell you how amazing you were tonight.”

“Amazing, huh? Swan, you flatter me,” he replied with a ridiculous amount of false modesty, and Emma couldn’t help but giggle at him. “You’re right, though. I did miss it. Being out there tonight was like coming home. And seeing you again has made it almost perfect.”

“Almost? Why almost?”

“Because every time I’ve imagined seeing you again it’s always been in a more private setting, with fewer clothes between us.”

Emma smacked his shoulder in response to his swaggering brows and salaciously bit lip, joining in his laughter. He needn’t know about the steamy images that flashed through her mind, making her hot and tingly at the prospect of taking him home and making the night truly perfect. Not that she could. Take him home with her, that is. Not with her brother, sister-in-law, and son there.

I really need my own place.

Killian walked her back to the theatre, taking her hands in his when they reached her car.

“David isn’t going to be too upset about the interview, is he?” he asked with a measure of concern.

“He’ll get over it,” Emma reassured. “It’s not like you gave one to somebody else.”

Killian took a step forward, pressing into her space and offered in a low tone, “Tell you what, Swan. How about you agree to have dinner with me, and I’ll give you that interview.”

Emma wet her lips and raised her brows at him, “I’d have dinner with you anyway, Jones.”

Killian flashed her an elated grin before releasing her hands so he could cup her cheek and bring her mouth up to his. Emma wrapped her arms around his neck, scraping her nails along his hairline as their lips reacquainted themselves with one another. Teasing and nipping before the hot slide of their tongues moved together as if no time had passed since they’d last shared this particular dance.

Killian’s hands moved to her hips and he pulled her flush against him, groaning into her mouth when she buried her hand further in his hair.

“Gods, I’ve missed you, Swan,” Killian breathed against her jaw as his lips made their way towards her neck. “There wasn’t a day that went by I didn’t think of you.”

“Good,” she sighed, only vaguely aware that he now had her pressed against her car door.

Lips and hands became a frenzy, seeking out whatever bits of skin they could lay claim to while still being mindful of their somewhat public setting. The parking lot might be empty, but there were still cars passing by on the main road beside them. A fact they were reminded of when the whistles and catcalls of passengers in a vehicle stopped at a red light startled them apart.

They both chuckled in embarrassment, Killian waving the hecklers off as the light turned green and the car sped off.

“You mentioned something about dinner?” Emma reminded him when it looked like he might move back in for another round, not that she would have minded, but it was getting late.

“Aye. And an interview” he replied.

“Killian, you don’t have to-”

He stopped her words when he pressed his fingers against her lips. “I want to, Swan. It’s time to stop running from it, and there’s no one I trust more than you to help me tell the story.” Emma’s breath caught in her chest leaving her incapable of responding. “Come tomorrow night. After the performance we’ll sit down for the interview, and afterward I’ll take you out for a very late meal. Play your cards right, and I might even throw breakfast in bed the next morning into the deal.”

“It’s a good thing you’re a good dancer,” Emma scoffed, pushing him back so she had room to open her car door.

With brows furrowed in confusion, Killian asked, “Why’s that, love?”

She climbed in and settled herself behind the wheel before answering. “Because you suck at negotiating. An interview and breakfast in bed, when all you get is a meal you have to pay for? I’m definitely getting the better end of that bargain.”

The stunned looked on his face as she started the car and drove off was positively priceless.

One of the perks of being a formar SBA student, and having an in with the Executive Assistant of the company, was that Emma had access to studio time most mornings. She might have given up dancing professionally when she’d decided to keep Henry, but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy dancing for herself still.

The down side to the generosity of coveted, private studio time, was that she had to use it at an ungodly time in the morning. Something that had worked in her favor when for the last five months she’d been avoiding running into Killian. This morning, however, the early hour after her late night cocoa and bearclaw with Jones wasn’t doing her any favors.

Suppressing a yawn for the dozenth time, Emma finished her warm up and cued up her playlist to the song she’d been reminiscing over since she watched Killian take the stage the night before. The song they had performed to for their last dance routine together, the night of the showcase. She knew she’d never get it out of her mind if she didn’t just perform it, the solo part anyway, so she pressed play, hit her mark, and imagined that she was back on the SBC stage.

Not every step was executed to perfection. She’d lost some height in her jumps, and her center of gravity had shifted a bit thanks to pregnancy and childbirth, but Emma wasn’t focused on any of that. Instead she let the music and the steps help her connect with the emotion of the piece and longing of the character portrayed within the scene. A fiery maiden who had rebuffed the man she secretly loved time and again because she was too afraid to risk such passions. When word reached her that her love, a sailor, had gone down with his ship in a storm, the maiden danced along the shoreline grieving the fact she’d never told him how she felt. Her mournful solo ends with her lover surprising her with his miraculous return, and the two share a dance of love, passion, and desire.

Emma finished out the solo, poised in her final placement, when she felt strong hands wrap around her waist and lift her into the first position of the pas de deux. She let out a tiny gasp, but years of training and muscle memory allowed her to hold her form as her partner swept her off her feet and into the air.

When he set her back down, Emma spun around to face her dance mate, though she’d known it was Killian from the moment he’d placed his hands on her.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, good morning to you too, Swan,” he teased, rocking back onto his heels while looking over her red leotard and black tights with an appreciative eye.

“You’re never here this early.”

“And I gather that you are? Dancing in one of the Academy’s studios right under my nose all this time?” Emma’s cheeks flamed. She was about to utter another apology for not telling him sooner that they were both back in Storybrooke when he closed the space between them. “You still have the most exquisite extensions, Swan. Watching you dance our piece makes me want to take you in my arms and relive the moment. Shall we?”

“You remember the dance?” she asked incredulously as he cued the music back to the beginning of the pas de deux section.

“I could never forget it,” he replied as he took his position behind her, ready to begin where they’d left off. “It was the last time we performed together.”

The lover’s dance started off romantic, an emotional reunion with declarations of love and promises of forever. Sweeping lifts and reverent combinations of holds and releases that began on the side of chaste, but then shifted to passionate embraces and seductive movements. The sensuality of the dance heightened as Emma and Killian moved their bodies together with little concern over proper form. Soft brushes of fingertips down the other’s arms and over collarbones, scorching caresses of his palm against her thigh as he delayed releasing her in the transitions. Lingering looks into one another’s eyes instead of setting their spot in the turns, a brush of lips against a neck, a wandering hand that didn’t quite meet its appropriate mark.

As the dance came to a close their labored breathing was from more than their strenuous activities. The flush of their skin a product of desire as much as exertion. Their final pose had Emma draped over Killian’s arm as he dipped her back, his head resting against her chest. A heartbeat after the song ended, Emma felt Killian’s nose skim along the open expanse of skin at her neckline. The caresses turned into hot, open mouth kisses as he pulled her back up into his arms, continuing a scorching trail up her neck before laying claim to her mouth.

He brought his hands up to the top of her leotard and pulled the garment over her shoulders and down her arms.

“Killian,” Emma moaned with a hint of protest.

His hand slipped beneath the fabric and cupped her breast, kneading it in his palm as he hummed appreciatively, “I don’t remember these being quite so ample.”

“The wonder of childbearing.” She nipped against his lips pulling a groan from him.

“I want to tear this leotard from your body,” he growled, mimicking her action against his lips on her earlobe, “bend you over right here in front of all the mirrors so you can watch as I take you. Make you hold on to the barre for support as I drive myself into you over and over again.”

“You seem to have given this some thought,” she replied breathlessly, a wash of eager expectancy flooding her body.  

“You’ve no idea,” he murmured into her skin while running his hands down her back to her thighs, ready to lift her into his arms.

She reached back and grabbed hold of his wrists. “We can’t. Not here.”

Unwilling to relent just yet, Killian moved his lips back to hers. The scorching slant of his mouth and the sensation of his tongue savoring hers made her dizzy.

“Then come back to my place,” he rasped. His hands no longer at her backside, he tucked one into her hair while the other splayed itself across the open back of her leotard.

“I can’t,” she lamented. “I have to get to work.”

Killian pulled away from her lips with a heavy sigh and rested his forehead against hers. “Aye. I know,” he conceded.

Emma pulled her leotard back over her shoulders and stepped back from temptation. She felt the fire of his gaze as she collected her things, but he’d managed to rein himself in when she came to stand before him again.

“Will I see you tonight?” Killian asked, his voice still husky from the desire she could see clouding his eyes.

“Of course, you owe me an interview, remember?” she teased, then a consideration dawned on her. “Unless you’re having second thoughts. Which would be fine, I haven’t told David that you agreed to give one. I’m happy to just have dinner with you, so please don’t feel obliga-”

Killian halted her ramblings with his lips and she couldn’t help but sigh and melt into him once more.

“Tell David about the interview, Swan,” he said after a few gentle kisses.

“You’re sure?”

“Aye, love. I’ll see you tonight.”

Work was pointless. There was zero chance of Emma being able to focus on the blinking cursor before her. Thoughts of strong hands and warm lips drove her to distraction as her body shivered at the recollection of everything he’d said he wanted to do to her in the studio. In front of the mirrors. Against the barre.

“Did Jones give it to you?”

Emma startled at her brother’s question. Blazing heat painted her cheeks even as she felt like she’d been doused with a cold bucket of water at his presence.

“W-what?” she stammered.

“The interview? Did you get the interview?”

“Oh! Uh… tonight,” she confirmed. “He asked me to come back tonight for it.”

“Tonight? I thought maybe you’d gotten it last night given how late it was before you got home.”

Emma knew from experience that her paper clip tray was not that interesting, yet David was inspecting it as if he expected to find hidden gems.

“Were you waiting up for me, dad?”

“No,” he answered a bit too quickly, causing Emma to cock her head and shoot a brow at him. “Alright, fine,” he sighed. “I guess I felt a little guilty for forcing you to go face him. I don’t know why you shut him out when you went to California, and if I find out he hurt you I’ll effectively end his career by taking out his knee caps, but I do know that having him so close and not reaching out to him was eating you up.”

“It wasn’t Killian,” she confessed. “It was all me.”

David sank down into the chair next her desk and placed a supportive hand on her knee.

“What happened, Emma?”

The question rang in Emma’s head. The same question Killian had posed to her the night before. A question she hadn’t had the courage to answer then, but one she knew she’d have to answer eventually. Maybe giving the truth a trial run with her brother would make it easier to confess to Killian later. Emma glanced around at the buzzing newsroom, then back at her brother.

“Your office?”

David nodded his understanding and the two made their way to the more private setting. With the door closed behind them, coffee poured and doctored to their liking, and both of them settled on the sofa, Emma gathered her resolve, then poured out her heart to her brother.

“When we were here all those years ago I had started to feel like maybe I was something special. I was at the top of the class at the academy, I’d earned that role at the showcase, and Killian… Killian made me feel like I was more than some little lost girl her parents hadn’t wanted.” David reached over and took her hand, but remained silent as she continued. “When he got the offer to go overseas, I told him to take it. I actually believed that when my time came to field offers the next year, the same company would want me too and we’d be together again.”

“But they didn’t offer you a position,” David commented.

“They didn’t even come to the showcase,” Emma stated bitterly. “All I got were chorus offers. Killian was the sensation of Europe, and I couldn’t even muster a principal position from the company I’d studied under. Not that I begrudged him that,” she rushed to add. “He absolutely deserved the success. It just…”

“Made you feel like you didn’t deserve him,” David said knowingly. Emma let a few silent tears slip down her cheeks and David wrapped his arms around her. “Oh, Emma. Killian didn’t love you because of your talent. He loved you for the same reason Mary Margaret and I do. The same reason Mom loved you and took you in. Because you are Emma. And that’s enough.”

Emma sniffled into David’s shoulder. “You think he loved me back then?”

“I think he loves you now,” David professed. “Or at least, he’d like the chance to fall in love with you again.”

Emma could practically hear David’s mind weighing a decision of whether or not to share some withheld piece of information. “Just tell me,” she prompted.

“When he first came back, he called me. Wanted to know where you were, how you were. I told him that if you hadn’t seen fit to let him know yourself, then it wasn’t my place to share. He wasn’t too happy with that response, but he respected it and didn’t push the issue again. Until the night before last.”

Emma jerked back out of her brother’s embrace and stared at him. “The night before last?” she asked with a hint of accusation.

“He called me after it had been decided he’d come out of retirement. He knew the press would be clamouring for an interview and he offered to give our paper an exclusive if I’d just give him your number, or an e-mail, or an address. I told him I’d have to think about it.”

“And then you assigned me the opening night review and told me to get the interview?!” she exclaimed as she shot to her feet. “David!”

“I know! I’m sorry Emma, but the guy sounded desperate, and… well, your avoidance was getting a little bit ridiculous, even for you.”

David may as well have slapped her, the force of his words having a similar impact to her insides. It didn’t keep her from throwing his own dishonesty right back at him. “So sending me to the ballet last night was about me facing Killian and not so you’d get your precious interview?”

“Maybe a little of both,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Well, you can forget about the interview! I’m not going to ask him for it now. I don’t want him to think it’s the only reason I showed up, or that he owes it to you because I did.”

David let out a resigned sigh. “Alright, Emma. I won’t ask you to go through with it.”

Without another word on the subject, Emma stormed out of David’s office. She spent the rest of the day stewing at her desk, knowing she needed to tell Killian the interview was off, but unwilling to do it over the phone while she was at work. She was still too angry at David to be professional or objective. After work posed its own set of inconveniences as he’d be warming up getting ready for the performance, and she had no desire to distract him before he went on stage. Emma resigned herself to just wait until after the ballet when they’d already planned to meet for the interview anyway. She just hoped he’d believe her when she told him her reasons for refusing.

Emma chewed nervously at her thumb, the nail no longer substantial enough to handle her anxiety. The ballet had concluded thirty minutes ago, and when the stage manager had emerged with the obligatory not until the dancers cool down notice, Emma had slipped the woman her card asking her to deliver it to Mr. Jones’ manager. Now she was pacing the auditorium with a few other members of the press waiting to be called back.

The stage door opened and all eyes turned to the man revealed behind it. Robin’s eyes landed on her and with a nod of his head she made her way towards the door. As she hit the threshold the entire press corp behind her erupted.

“He’s waiting for you in his dressing room,” Robin whispered into her ear. “Go ahead. I’ll fight off the vultures.”

She gave him a quick smile of gratitude, and turned down the hallway. Once she reached Killian’s door, Emma took a steadying breath and reached up to knock. Before her knuckles could rap against the wood, the door swung open. Killian’s hand caught her wrist and he pulled her inside. Before she knew it he had the door closed, locked, and her pressed up against it.

“Killian!” she exclaimed before his mouth crashed down onto hers, hungrily seeking her lips. His tongue and teeth teased her bottom lip before moving attention to her jawline, nipping and laving a path along the side of her neck towards the back of her ear.

“Relax, Swan,” he murmured into her skin. “‘You’ll get your interview. Right now I’m more interested in giving you something else.” He rolled his hips into hers, and Emma had to stifle the moan that threatened to break free from her lips. “Don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about this all day.” His hands ran down the sides of her body and she couldn’t help but arch into him when one of his thumbs grazed her nipple, now erect and evident through her blouse. His other hand traveled further down, finding its way under her skirt and Emma drew in a sharp breath when his fingers made contact with the pooling warmth at her center. “There’s no use denying it, love. I can feel that you have.”

His smug growl caused a shiver to run the length of her body and he chuckled into her neck as he continued to lavish hot open mouthed kisses down its expanse.

Screw it. We’ll talk later.

“Fine,” she conceded, and brought her hand up to pull the hair at the back of his head, forcing him to break away from her neck. “But we aren’t doing this against the door. You’ve danced on those legs for two and a half hours. I’m not going to risk them giving out and you injuring yourself, or me ending up on my ass.”

A devilish grin answered back. “Fair point, love. How would you like me then? This is your interview after all.”

Emma pushed against his chest and backed him up towards the sofa on the opposite end of the room, pulling at his clothes and assisting him with removing hers along the way. When his calves hit the front of the cushions she shoved him down and straddled his lap, each of them down to only their undergarments.

“Forget the interview, Jones. I’m no longer interested,” she murmured against his lips.

Killian pulled back. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not here because you promised David an interview in exchange for my whereabouts.” She cupped his cheeks in response to the panicked look that flashed in his eyes. “I came here last night because I wanted to see you, and I came back tonight because I want to be with you. No strings. No conditions.”

“He told you about that, did he?” Killian reached up to scratch behind his ear. “For what it's worth Swan, I know you didn’t come last night because of that, or at least… I’d hoped you hadn’t.”

“I meant what I said. I came for you.”

Killian smirked and quirked a brow. One day Emma was going to learn how to not set him up for innuendos… maybe.

“Not quite yet, but we can still rectify that if you’d like.”

Emma bent down and pressed her lips to his, wiping the smug expression off his face. Killian groaned when she rolled her hips as she slid her tongue inside his mouth, and responded by bucking his hips up to meet hers. He brought his hand around to her back and unclasped her bra in one swift motion. Nice to know he hasn’t lost that skill either.

Despite the heat rolling off his body, and the scorching trail his mouth and tongue left as they traveled down her neck and chest, Emma shivered in his arms. A moan fell from her lips when his latched on to her breast, and she raked her nails through his hair as she arched into him. More tremors worked their way through her body, settling at her core which was already slick and wanting through her underwear as she rolled against his hardened length.

Killian’s breaths became shallow and panting. He leaned against the back of the couch, tipping his head back and exposing the enticing expanse of his throat. Emma couldn’t help but sink her teeth into the side of his neck, laving and sucking a possessive path from the straining cords down to the hollow of his throat.

“No marks,” he panted.

“What do you think stage makeup is for,” she countered.

With a growl he moved his hands to the backs of her thighs, and lifted her quickly only to lay her on her back against the couch cushions. She reached for him expecting him to crawl back on top of her, but he had other ideas. She flushed under the tender scrutiny of his gaze and trembled as his fingertips mapped the lines of her body until they reached her panties. He paused, questioning with his eyes, and she nodded.

Slowly. Painfully slow. Agonizingly slow. He knelt down and removed her underwear, leaving soft brushes of his lips in their wake. Once he had them completely off he stood and removed his own, and Emma didn’t give a damn that she was absolutely staring. Or that he caught her staring, though, astonishingly, he didn’t have some cocky response to offer.

Guess he thought his actual cock was response enough.

It absolutely was.

Killian fished a condom out of his wallet, rolled it on, and settled himself between her welcoming thighs.

“You don’t know how I’ve longed for this, Emma. How I’ve longed for you,” he murmured against her lips.

“Maybe I do.”

Killian poured twelve years of want into his kiss before releasing her lips. When he entered her they both groaned in satisfaction, and the rhythm he set was as natural as any they had danced together. Given his dirty declarations at the studio and the frenzied way he had pulled her into the room that evening, Emma had expected something hot and quick with blush inducing utterances purred into her ear. Instead their movements were languid, a simmering heat building between them with each thrust. His words were praises against her skin, and Emma recalled with a stuttered breath the supposition she’d heard earlier that day.

I think he loves you now.

Emma opened her eyes to see his vivid blue gazing down at her, the proof shining there as brightly as any spotlight. She brought his head down to take his lips and wrapped her legs around his waist. He needed no further prompting and began snapping his hips to a new rhythm; one that had them both groaning with yeses and theres and just like thats until one right after the other they spent themselves in the finale of their passions.

“I would have stayed, you know,” Killian murmured into her hair afterward. Both of them tangled around one another on the couch, enjoying the afterglow. “If you had asked me to, I would have stayed. Taken the principal position here at SBC and waited until you’d finished your training. I would have followed you to whichever company had offered you a position.”

“I know,” Emma admittedly softly. “That’s why I didn’t ask you to stay. You would have wasted your talents, Killian. You were always meant for greater things.”

“So were you, Swan,” he insisted. “All those companies were bloody fools to not recognize your talent the year of your showcase. You deserved more than chorus offers.”

“Maybe,” she replied with a half shrug, and Killian released a long suffering sigh.

“One of these days Swan, I am going to get you to believe just how much you do deserve. There are still so many great things in store for you, if you’ll just let yourself have them.”

“And what about all the greatness that’s in store for you?” she inquired. Her fingertips continued their lazy pattern through his chest hair in the hopes it might distract him from her changing subjects. “I’m sure since you’ve officially come out of retirement, there are offers pouring in.”

“As a matter of fact there have been a fair few,” he admitted, “and I’ve already accepted one.”

“You what?” Emma braced herself on her elbow to face him, her heart slamming in her chest at the thought of him leaving. “What offer?”

“I accepted the principal position here, at SBC,” he answered, and cupped her cheek in response to her stunned expression. “It seems the injuries their former principal sustained in the car accident were career ending, so they offered me the position this morning, and I took it on the spot.”

“But why?” Emma shook her head, incapable of comprehending the news he’d just dropped on her. “Killian, you could go anywhere. Dance for the best companies, with the best choreographers. What possible reason could you have for staying here?”

It was Killian who now shook his head in perplexity. “Don’t you know, Emma? It’s you.” Emma’s mouth dropped open and tears pooled in her eyes. “You said I was always meant for greater things,” he reminded softly, brushing away one of her tears with the pad of his thumb. “Emma, there isn’t anything greater that I could ever hope for, than to have you in my life. I’m not making the same mistake again. You deserve better than that.”

They made love one more time that night. Promises of a future and new dreams and all the greatness that was in store for them both, whispered and vowed between them.

A year later, David finally got his interview. Killian and Emma both sat down with him after opening night of Storybrooke Ballet Company’s newest ballet, which they had both just performed in as principal dancers. His wasn’t the only interview given that evening, but he did get an exclusive; a photo of the ring and date to go along with it.

[yasmin-khan]

Okay, lovely Valentine. Have you got an AO3 account I can tag you on when I post your story tomorrow? I'll post it here, too, of course, but I love the AO3 gifting option :P

unfortunately, i don’t :(( but im really excited about the gift, thank you so much 💖 it’s been really great getting your messages!!

[emma-swan]

Can you believe it? Tomorrow is ALREADY the day!! gosh I haven't seen the time pass!! Hell this is the fastest CSSV I ever had haha sooo I hope you like the cuteness cause the biggest gift you'll have tomorrow is just pure cuteness

Oh and I saw you were "new yorker"? So I assume you live there, as I'm not in the same timezone, could you tell me where you live and at which time you'd prefer to have your gift? *puppy pirate eyes*

Oh, man, you’re just the sweetest thing ever, darling Valentine! I know for sure I’ll love your gift, no matter what! I’m so excited to see what you’ve created and I’m excited for the cuteness, too!

I am a New Yorker! My timezone is EST (GMT - 5:00). I just have to run a few errands tomorrow in the afternoon, but I will be home for most of the day since I’m off from work! 

I can’t wait!