Summary: When Killian’s flower shop, Jolly Blooms Flower Shop, fails to deliver the bouquet Emma ordered, she pays the establishment a rather angry visit. Little to either of them know this mix up might just turn into the best thing that ever happened to them.
Rating: G/K
Words: 1520
Other Chapters: (2) (3)
This fic was written for the #love4teamhook event as a way to support Alma, @teamhook while she’s going through a difficult time. Thanks to @jrob64 for her work in betaing for me!
Killian Jones cupped the delicate blooms of an orchid in his hand and nodded in satisfaction. He’d been rather worried about this particular plant. It had shown signs of distress a week past, and for several days he’d feared it wouldn’t make it. He had done his research, separated the diseased plant from its mates and cared for it as tenderly as a parent would their child.
Today was the first day the orchid showed signs of improvement. Like Killian himself, this orchid was a survivor.
Killian gathered up the plant and placed it back inside the bright, humid greenhouse, and then stepped back behind the counter of his shop Jolly Blooms Flower Shop. Sometimes it amazed him, the life he now led. As a young man, he’d longed for adventure, danger. He’d joined the navy to be close to his brother, and the life they’d led had been fascinating. He’d loved every minute of it.
Until the moment his brother Liam opted to leave the navy and marry his highschool sweetheart, Elsa.
Suddenly, with his brother no longer at his side, danger and adventure no longer looked nearly as appealing. Left at a crossroads, he’d taken some time to evaluate what he wanted to do with his life, and in the end, he’d opted for the pursuit of beauty.
There was something so calming and yet rejuvenating about being surrounded day after day by beautiful flowers. Providing a product that brought joy and comfort to his clients was infinitely rewarding. His was a quiet, peaceful existence.
His introspection was interrupted when his shop door was suddenly, forcefully opened. He looked up to find himself face to face with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her golden hair fell on her shoulders and down her back like a cloud of sunshine. Her green eyes shone.
Unfortunately, today they seemed to be shining with anger. So much for his quiet, peaceful existence.
“May...may I help you, love?” he asked, hesitantly as she reached his counter, planted her feet and crossed her arms.
“Yeah, I wanted you to help me yesterday, but apparently asking for a flower shop to deliver flowers was too big of an ask,” she clipped out.
Killian found himself at a loss for words, barely even registering what the vision before him said. They say when you’ve found your soulmate, your True Love, you just know. You can feel it. He’d rather thought that was nonsense, but now...well, now he was beginning to rethink every notion he’d ever had about attraction, romance and even love itself.
“Well?” she exploded, planting her splayed hands on his wooden counter and scowling fiercely at him.
Killian blinked, shaking his head slightly, willing himself to come back to his senses. Whatever his attraction might be to this woman, she was a customer, and he must get it together and provide her the customer service that had made him one of the most sought-after small flower shops in the area.
“My apologies,” he said. “Was there a problem with a flower delivery?”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh I don’t know. I ordered a bouquet to be delivered yesterday, and yet still no flowers have arrived. Seems like a bit of a problem to me!”
Killian frowned. He’d had several flower orders go out yesterday, and he’d gotten no complaints from his delivery people that they’d been unable to complete their tasks successfully. “Could I have your name, love?”
“Not your love,” she gritted out. “Emma Swan. I ordered a bouquet of snowbells to be delivered to Mary Margaret Nolan. It was very important that they arrive yesterday on her birthday.”
He remembered the order, because of its unusualness. Few people specifically requested snow bells, and those who did typically wished for them to be an accent in a larger arrangement rather than the sole flower within the arrangement.
Killian typed for a moment on his computer, bringing up the order details. “According to my records, that bouquet was delivered as requested bright and early yesterday morning.”
“And yet my sister still does not have her bouquet of flowers,” the woman, Emma Swan, said.
Killian peered down at his information once again and groaned. Will. He should have known his newest--and most annoying--employee would be at the center of any mix up.
“Scarlet!” he called over his shoulder.
A moment later the man in question stepped through the back room door and walked up to the two of them. “Anything I can do for ya boss?”
“There seems to be a mistake with yesterday’s deliveries,” Killian said, willing himself to keep his voice even. There was just something about Will Scarlet and his care-free and yet somehow insolent style that made Killian wish to throttle him more often than not.
“Nope,” Will said, grinning. “No problems with yesterday’s deliveries. Handed the flowers personally to every person on my list.”
“What about the bouquet of snowbells for Mary Margaret Nolan?”
Will tapped on his chin, seemingly deep in thought, and then he brightened. “I remember her. Pretty woman, that. Long, curly, fire-red hair. Kinda thought about asking her out, but decided that might not be so professional-like.”
“Curly red hair?” Emma Swan bit out. “Mary Margaret doesn’t have curly red hair. She has dark brown! I don’t think she even knows anyone with curly red hair!”
“Did you confirm the name of the recipient?” Killian asked.
“Yep, just like you taught me,” Will said, nodding vigorously.
“And this red-head confirmed that her name was Mary Margaret?” Killian asked.
“Well, I mean she said her name was Merida,” Will conceded, “but I figured hey, that must be a nickname for Mary Margaret or somethin’.”
Killian rubbed at his temples, a pounding headache beginning to set in. “And you didn’t think to confirm that you had the right address and that this person, with a different name, was the actual intended recipient of your delivery?”
Will shrugged. “Hey, I don’t ask questions. I just go where the Google maps lady tells me.”
Killian full-on facepalmed this time before glaring at his unbelievably dense employee. “Just...just go back to what you were doing. Later, we’ll have a long, probably rather loud discussion about the proper way to deliver flowers.”
Killian watched the idiot disappear into the backroom, muttering to himself about it being Mrs. Google’s fault and then turned back to face the wrath of the avenging angel before him.
“Miss Swan, my sincerest apologies for this unfortunate mistake,” he said. “The delivery man at fault will be dealt with, and I will set to work this moment to create a replacement for your sister.”
The remainder of the visit was completed in a matter of moments. Killian took down his dream woman’s information, apologized profusely, and then assured her yet again that he would personally see to the creation and delivery of the arrangement, that it would be his first priority.
Killian’s reassurances seemed to mollify the woman slightly, though her ire was clearly not entirely ameliorated. Satisfied that she’d at least accomplished what she’d set out to do, Emma Swan turned and walked briskly out of his shop and out of his life.
It rather amazed Killian what a profound sense of loss he felt as the door closed behind the lovely lady. He’d only known her for the space of five minutes, for Zeus’s sake, and most of that was spent with her yelling at him. It made no sense that he’d feel such a deep, elemental pull to her already, and yet the heart wanted what the heart wanted.
Killian grabbed a vase and headed in the direction of his snowbells. There was no doubt about it; he must find a way to see Emma Swan again. Slowly, an idea began to take shape within his mind. It was a bold move, perhaps even risky, but if there’s one thing Liam had instilled in him it was this: A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.
If he didn’t at least try with Emma Swan, Killian knew he’d regret it for the rest of his life.
Notes:
--This story is loosely inspired by The Words music video, as you might have picked up. I’ve never written about florist Killian before, and I decided it was time to change that.
--I’m anticipating 2 more short chapters that I’ll post on each of the next Thursdays. (The point of this event was to post one shots...but my muse is terrible at following directions, lol.
--Up next: We’ll get some Killian pining (a la the music video), but the bulk of the chapter will be from Emma’s POV. We’ll find out why she was so angry about her flowers not being delivered, and we’ll see her reaction to Killian putting into action the plan he comes up with at the end of this chapter.
Emma's been stressed lately, so Killian takes her to visit a secluded beach. That’s all. Just sweet CS fluff without a plot.
A/N: For the ever so lovely @teamhook , who has been completely amazing at making me feel welcome in this fandom. I hope this brings a smile to your face in these tough times.
Unbetad as always so mistakes are all mine.
Read this story on AO3
A Quiet Moment
Emma thinks the soft rush of waves against the sand would lull her to sleep if she wasn't so damn cold right now. The ground she’s sitting on is doing nothing to make her more comfortable either, cold and unyielding and she’s getting irritated. She shivers slightly, tugging the collar of her jacket higher on her neck, as if that will help.
“You couldn’t have chosen a warmer night for this?” she asks, careful to keep her voice down. She tries to keep the frustration out of her voice, not wanting to direct it at Killian. It’s not his fault she can’t get comfortable - he had urged her to bring more layers, but it had been such a lovely warm day she had brushed off his warning that it would get cold on the beach.
Killian appraises her with a lifted eyebrow and a gentle smile.
"Sorry, love," he murmurs, "I promise it won't be much longer."
He removes his leather coat, draping it around her and she quickly shoves her arms through the sleeves. It's quite a bit too large on her smaller frame, but that only makes her feel cosier as she nestles into it, protected from the chilly sea breeze by the heavy embrace of the coat, the leather still holding Killian’s body heat.
“Thank you.” She sighs, leaning against Killian contentedly as the warmth returns to her bones.
The sun had slipped below the horizon half an hour ago, and while it had been a beautiful evening, the temperature had dropped rapidly once darkness fell. She feels rather foolish for not rugging up the way Killian had instructed and a little bit guilty for borrowing his jacket, leaving him to brave the cold air without it. Though he never seems as affected by the temperatures as she does. He certainly doesn’t look like he minds now either, staring out to sea with a focused, hopeful expression, and Emma realizes he’s as eager to see this as she is.
“How many times have you come out here?” she asks softly.
“A few times. Enough to know the cold is worth it.”
A light in the sky catches Emma’s attention and she looks up. A shooting star arcs across the darkening sky, burning brighter than she’s ever seen a star burn before.
“Make a wish,” Emma says reflexively.
“Everything I’d wish for is already right here, Emma,” Killian tells her quietly, and her heart swells with love for him and for the way he never lets pass an opportunity to remind her how he feels about her.
“You’re so cliche.”
He hums in agreement as he brushes some wayward hair away from her face. “And you love me for it.”
She can’t help grinning, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. She does love him for it; for that and for many other things. He dips down to kiss her, just a brief touch of his mouth to hers and then he straightens up again to simply hold her to him, letting out a contented sigh of his own. Emma smiles as she snuggles into his arms. Even if nothing else comes of this evening, it’s been wonderful to finally have a quiet moment, here on the beach under the stars with the man she loves. And while Emma’s body may still be cold, her soul feels warm. All too soon, Killian is shifting and letting his arms fall away from her. But Emma doesn’t have a moment to think about how much she misses his embrace because he’s staring excitedly at the water.
“Look, Emma,” he hisses, and Emma follows his line of sight across the beach.
Riding the roll of the surf is a small blue and white penguin. Emma’s breath catches on a quiet gasp as the adorable creature lands on the beach, getting to its feet as the wave recedes and beginning a hasty waddle towards the rocks her and Killian are sitting on. It’s even smaller than Emma had imagined when Killian had told her of them.
“Killian-”
“Ssshh. Just stay still.”
The tiny penguin approaches them fearlessly and comes to a halt just out of reach, its head cocked to the side slightly as it observes the two people sitting in front of it. Its blue-grey feathers contrast with its white belly, soft and downy and still glistening with droplets from the sea. It’s the cutest thing Emma’s ever seen. She hardly dares to breathe, afraid she’ll scare it away. She wishes she could pet it, wanting to know if it’s really as soft as it appears, but Killian had warned her not to. It’s an honor to even be allowed on their beach, love, but we shouldn’t ask for more than that. It wouldn’t be proper. And you mustn’t forget they are wild animals, however tame they may seem. It makes perfect sense, but the temptation remains as Emma watches the penguin step even closer. A second penguin makes its way up the beach now, and distracts the first from its curiosity about the humans, the two creatures letting out soft chirruping sounds as they greet one another. It’s clear from their affectionate behaviour that they are a couple, and Emma can’t help smiling at their antics. Shortly the two penguins toddle off into a gap in the rocks further along the beach, disappearing into the sheltered crevice where they have made their nest.
“Come, love,” Killian whispers, taking her hand, “Let’s not overstay our welcome.”
The moon has begun its climb out of the ocean, not yet full, but more than bright enough to light the way as Emma and Killian walk hand in hand up the winding path away from the beach. On the grassy knoll overlooking the sea, they pause to take in the view. The moonlight catches the curve of each wave in silver as it folds upon the sand. The air around them is damp and salty against the back of Emma’s throat, but the chill of the night doesn’t bother her as much now, not with Killian’s coat still wrapped around her.
“Worth it?” he asks.
“God, yes. Thank you, Killian. I needed this.”
She pulls him in for a slow, passionate kiss, which he returns without hesitation, kissing her deeply and thoroughly as his hand cradles the back of her head, fingers tangling into her hair.
“I love you so much,” she murmurs against his lips.
“I love you too, my darling.” He kisses her once more, before adding suggestively, “Now let’s go home and get you properly warmed up.”
Emma giggles, slipping her hand back into his.
“With hot chocolate?” she teases.
“Aye, that. And other things.”
And damn, the way Killian deepens his voice like that and leans in close always does things to her.
My addition to #Love4TeamHook. Thank you to all the wonderful ladies that put this together and let me be a part of it.
@teamhook I hope this helps in bringing you some comfort x.
Early S4 date fluff.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The sun was beginning to retreat for the day, turning the sky a rich orange as Killian headed into the station. It was usually the sign of warm weather but with their current guests in town, a chill still remained in the air.
He found Emma sitting behind her desk with her feet propped up, concentrating on her phone screen. She managed to look up when he entered and flashed him a smile that warmed him more than any sun could. The last rays peeking through the blinds created a warm glow around her, giving her blonde hair and fair skin the illusion of a halo.
She looked so beautiful in these moments that it took his breath away.
He wouldn’t tell her that just yet; compliments still managed to make her shy and deflect, but once she was more accustomed to his affections, he promised to let her know each and every day. For now, he settled for returning her smile.
“What brings you here?” she asked as she set her phone aside.
“Just came to see if you were finished for the day.”
“Yup! It's been nice and slow for once, thank god.” she sighed in relief.
“As it’s quiet for once,” he began as he rounded the desk to perch on it in front of her, “and no crisis or villain’s popping up at hand…”
“Uh huh…” Emma urged him on, liking the sound of where he was headed.
“I’d imagine you’d like to work on a defence plan? Perhaps I can be of service.”
“Oh.” Emma deflated, causing his face to scrunch up into confusion.
“If you have other plans-”
“No!” she insisted, not wanting him to get the wrong idea, “I was kind of hoping you had something a little more…. relaxing in mind?”
Her batted eyelashes and sheepish smile caught him by surprise. He grinned in return as he realised she was looking to spend some time having a night of… with him.
“If it’s relaxation you’re after, love, I just might know a place.”
He held his hand out and she took it eagerly, letting him help her rise from her chair.
“Shall we?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“You know, when I said relaxing,” Emma teased through short pants, “I wasn’t expecting a damn hike through the woods.”
“We’re almost there, Swan.”
His cheeky glare had her shooting back one that let him know she was unimpressed. They continued their trek through the trees, heading higher and higher up a hill. He admitted to himself that it was quite the small journey but he knew- at least he hoped he knew, that it would be worth it in the end.
Though he worried it might be rather difficult on the way back, what with the sun almost gone from the sky… he wouldn’t mention that to Emma just yet.
Finally the trees were behind them and he led Emma to a grassy edge that overlooked the town below.
With the last rays of sun leaving, a deep purple twilight set in that just about kept an array of flowers around them illuminated. The twinkle of lights from the town dotted below them melted in with the stars appearing in the navy sky above.
“Wow.” She breathed, impressed with the sight before her.
Killian didn’t speak, noting her response was an impressed one. He removed his jacket and spread it on the grass before he took her hand and guided her to sit.
“I’ve lived here for years now and never seen this place before.”
“Your boy showed it to me,” Killian confessed, “claimed it's one of the best places to come and think.”
Emma shook her head with fondness, aware that her son was always full of surprises.
They sat and watched the last spectrum of colours in the sky disappear as night finally settled in. Emma scooted in close and made herself comfortable at Killian’s side while he was more than happy to hold her.
They spoke in small bursts, more than happy to just listen to nature around them; little murmurs of conversation was all they needed as they embraced their surroundings and just existed.
Her thumb drew light circles against his knee as his hand held her waist. She felt him move from time to time to drop a kiss to her head, somehow managing to make her skin thrum with warmth each time.
Emma surprised him the next time felt his lips touch her forehead by reaching up and returning one of her own.
The action sparked a whole new desire within them, shifting from comfort to want.
A soft caress of lips was followed by arms reaching to touch the other.
Small moans of pleasure joined the quiet of the night as their need grew and their slow exploration of one another sped up.
Emma was soon seated on his lap with her knees either side of his hips. Her hands gripped his shoulders and disappeared into his hair as his hand squeezed her rear each time she ground down on him.
She reluctantly pulled away for air as they both tried to calm their urge.
This wasn’t the place.
“I should walk you home.” Emma suggested, causing him to laugh with her.
“You know, once there, you could come in.” he suggested as he watched their fingers entwine.
She knew what he was suggesting. The next step. What they’d been building up to for a while.
Her hand held his tight and her thumb teased the skin of his palm.
She brought it up to her lips and kissed it, holding his gaze.
“I’d like that.”
She looked at him through hooded eyes, well aware of the awe he tried to hide. His thumb traced her bottom lip and she surprised him further by catching it with her teeth, gently suckign the tip that lit a roarin fire within him.
“Let’s go.” he ordered, feeling the effects of her teasing rile him further.
They managed to find their way back through the forest, laughing at the multiple missteps and trip ups on stray branches and rocks. Once the road was visible and they were on level ground, they walked arm in arm towards the diner, taking the time to share kisses and caresses as they went.
The eagerness to get inside was just as strong as their enjoyment at spending time together. It was as if they were drunk in each other’s presence; neither could rid themselves of their need to smile or touch. They remained stuck together as they approached main street. Emma's hand was buried inside his back pocket while his arm was secure around her shoulders.
The town remained quiet and untouched, and Emma and Killian were all too glad.
They finally had a moment alone that they were looking forward to turning into a whole night of undisrupted... ‘relaxation’.
I hope you will enjoy my first brand new one shot in quite a while. It’s written for the lovely Alma ( @teamhook ) for the #love4teamhook collection. Though I realize this didn't happen in canon, I consider it more a divergent missing moment which could have happened than fully AU. Killian did seem to make friends with a lot of the various princesses who came and went on "Once", until it sort of seemed like he had a Princess Squad. This story came from that.
Alma, it’s my hope that this little sidetrip to Agrabah might bring a few chuckles as welll as some heartwarming fluff.
Summary: When Killian, Emma, and the Storybrooke crew travel to Agrabah for the wedding of Aladdin and Jasmine, our pirate learns just how many people have his back.
Also available on AO3 here
“Thick as Thieves (or Princesses)”
by: @snowbellewells
“I never thought I’d see the day,” a disgruntled voice tsked, standing at the mirror and just out of Emma’s line of sight. The speaker had that disapproving tone to her words, one that Emma had come to know well growing up surrounded by people who looked down their noses at her and were constantly disappointed in her prickly demeanor and tough exterior.
The speaker’s companion, a woman whose robes were a violently garish mauve and who kept fluffing her already quite voluminous mane of curly dark hair, sighed in regretful agreement. Her curls bounced as she seemed to nod sagely at her friend’s words. “It’s true - seems just about anyone can marry into the royal family now.”
The first woman tittered gleefully, enjoying having a sympathetic ear for her gossip no doubt. “Never mind the scruffy length of that Aladdin’s hair…” the mocking emphasis she put on the new prince consort of Agrabah’s name, as if it were too ridiculous to take seriously, had Emma clenching her fist angrily, ready to storm into view and speak up on her friend’s behalf. However, the rest of the woman’s words, knocked her back on her heels for several stunned, painful seconds, “...but did you see the sort of riff raff on his side of the aisle? Street rat that he is, I suppose I really shouldn’t have expected more from the guest list, but honestly!”
“And the visitors are no better! What are Queen Snow and her Charming thinking accepting a pirate for a son-in-law… with his reputation and that hook?”
Emma’s pulse was pounding so strongly in her temples that her vision was going a bit hazy when she charged into the ladies room from the short hall where she’d been listening, revealing herself to the bitter hags at the sinks, practically vibrating with righteous anger and staring them both down as their mouths fell open in shocked embarrassment. Their entire aspects changed as they began to simper and apologize, hoping to placate the royal standing before them.
Emma was having none of it. She might not have grown up being taught the diplomacy and etiquette she would have if she’d had the chance to really grow up as Princess of Misthaven, but she had enough manners not to mock people behind their backs and then feign sweetness and innocence to their faces. Breathing heavily, she glared at both of the Agrabahn women. She darkly thought that the scare served them right as their obsequious attempts to atone eventually trailed off into silence. Crossing her arms over her chest, intending to cut every bit as imposing a figure in demure light blue dress (so she’d wanted to try to match her pirate’s eyes, sue her!) as she would wearing her red leather jacket and sheriff’s badge.
“You two should be really glad I don’t know your names. I can’t imagine that the Sultan would like to deal with this sort of disloyalty on such a happy occasion. He at least seems astute enough to care for who brings his daughter happiness rather than who comes bearing the fanciest pedigree or the newest style.”
Blowing out a breath, she almost turned on her heel to storm back out and leave them with some food for thought, but then she wheeled back around, drawing even closer, until she was almost nose-to-nose with the two gossips. “And furthermore, my husband might have been an indentured servant, and a pirate, but he is the finest man in all the Realms, and I won’t stand for any insinuations otherwise. If you really want to pick on a street rat, you might as well start with me. I may have been born a princess, but I grew up as much ‘riff raff’ as you called your new prince.”
She gave them an arched brow and waited; a clear challenge to direct their taunts and barbs to her face.
Shaking their heads in nervous denial the two women quickly excused themselves and hurried from the room without looking back.
“That’s what I thought,” Emma muttered under her breath with a curt little bob of her head as she watched them flee. She wasn’t even offended on her own behalf; she didn’t care if some strangers and hangers-on thought she was the “right sort” of royal, and she knew her parents felt the same. The barbs struck beneath Killian’s armor though. He talked a good game, and played off such insults well if one didn’t know him as Emma did. He judged himself too harshly and was loath to bring any imagined slight to her name with his past.
Shaking her head, Emma breathed out a sigh, hoping to shrug off her consternation, knowing said pirate would be waiting for her just outside.
Sure enough, as she re-entered the large, open air ballroom set up on the shining gilt-covered porches of the Sultan’s palace, her husband was at her side in moments. Brows waggling playfully, he clearly had a quip or come-on at the tip of his tongue, but he stopped short at the sight of her face. Head tilted to study her, his hand came to her elbow, steadying her curiously. “What is it, Love? You look like thunder!”
She wasn’t about to lie to him any more than she intended to hurt him; they understood each other too well for that. “Nothing important,” she fluttered her hand carelessly. “Just turns out that snobs and bullies are the same in any realm is all.”
He gave a small nod of affirmation, clearly understanding her. “Aye, that does seem to be the way of it.”
Both were quiet for a moment watching couples dancing, Aladdin and Jasmine mingling and greeting their guests, Belle laughing merrily as Henry told her some story with impassioned and enthusiastic gestures for emphasis, before Killian spoke up again. Devilishly handsome smirk in place once more, his eyes sparkled as he added. “No matter, Wife. I’m sure you showed them the error of their ways.”
She snorted, shaking her head at his antics, even if he was absolutely right. Holding out his hook to her gallantly, Killian bowed before murmuring so close to her ear that it sent shivers all along her skin, “Pay no more heed then. Dance with me, instead?”
Flushing in a way that she knew spread all the way down to her more pushed-up and on-display than usual decolletage, she grinned broadly. Her husband seemed rather spellbound, his eyes following the rise and fall of her breaths helplessly and his tongue flicked out to trace his full perfect lips at the sight on display. “If you think you can handle it,” she winked. “I was starting to think you’d never ask.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sometime later, after several dances and Emma’s begging to rest her feet, unused to heels that weren’t knee-high boots these days, Killian had seen her back to the table they were sharing with her parents and Henry, and was fetching them both drinks from the elaborately flowing sangria fountain, somehow arranged to flow steadily into a large punch bowl, where waiters then dipped it into crystal glasses for guests as they approached the table.
“Two please,” he told the server when it was his turn.
Accepting the filled cups a moment later, Killian couldn’t resist a quick sip right then, having worked up quite a thirst with he and Emma’s exertions, the close crowd, and the arid desert surroundings. Humming at the pleasant blend of flavors on his tongue, he questioned curiously, “Is there rum in this? It tastes as though some of the best has been blended in with the fruit juices.”
“I - I believe so,” the server stammered rather uncertainly.
“Well, my compliments. It is one of the better libations I’ve had the pleasure of imbibing.”
It was as he had turned away, heading back to Emma at their table, that he heard the words whispered behind him. “Well, he would know, wouldn’t he?” hissed one lowered voice.
“Word has it he’s found the bottom of more liquor bottles than most people have ever seen,” countered another insinuating murmur.
“A one-handed pirate with a drinking problem given free rein in this palace full of treasure to tempt his baser instincts… seems like a recipe for disaster, if anyone had bothered to ask me,” chimed in a third, the sniff of indignance making that barb carry with a bit more volume. Killian felt his shoulders hiking up toward his ears with the tension, but he managed to hold himself steady and not to turn to glower at the servants threateningly. Time was he would have whirled and taught them all a lesson they’d not soon forget, but he was trying to be a different man - a better man - though it would seem to some his efforts made little difference.
“And to think, he has the Crown Princess of Misthaven on his arm!” huffed yet one more hateful voice, again well within his sharp hearing whether or not that had been the intent. This was the shot which met its mark, causing Killian to drop his eyes to the two cups balanced carefully in his right hand, hoping to make a quick escape before anyone realized he was around. It was like he had tried explaining to Emma before - people had a long memory when it came to expectations for their leaders, and married True Loves or not, there were some who would never approve of Captain Hook as Prince Consort to one of the most prominent kingdoms in the Realm.
His hasty retreat was abruptly blocked however, by two dainty feet in golden and turquoise-jeweled sandals, barely skimmed by the hem of a long, white silk gown standing right in his way.
Surprised, Killian’s head jerked up to find Princess Jasmine’s eyes staring back at him sympathetically. She had clearly heard the same hateful words he had just been subjected to, yet she appeared anything but ready to sneak off and let it continue. In that moment, with her lips pursed and eyes calculating as she weighed her next move, a delicate hand on his forearm to stall his retreat, she looked incredibly like his fierce and beautiful Swan.
“Speaking of temptation,” she purred, the feigned placid smile on her face a warning as she stepped around him to eye the gathered help pointedly. “The only thing I am tempted to do is search for a new kitchen staff - one cultured enough not to speak ill of a particular friend of the bride and an honored guest.” Princess Jasmine was a petite woman, but the way she drew herself up before them, staring down her nose imperiously at each offender in turn, made her seem every inch a tall, proud monarch it would not be wise to cross.
A hushed, abashed-eyed chorus of “Yes, ma’ams” and “Apologies, your majesty,” fell over each other as the whisperers bowed or curtsied and then hurried from the princess’ sight, properly rebuked for having displeased her, and on her wedding day no less.
“Ahh… thank you, Milady,” Killian offered quietly, feeling more than a bit awkward that she had felt she must come to his defense in such a way. He had certainly heard similar insults before - and much worse. Even carefully cradling the two drinks in one hand, he still found the curve of his hook raising to rub behind his ear in nervous embarrassment - his eyes hardly wanting to hold his saucy friend’s gaze even as she eyed him knowingly.
“Nonsense,” she dismissed easily, waving away the sheepish gratitude with a quick flutter of her hand. “They needed correction. Anyone who is going to work in the royal palace needs to be wise enough not to insult the guests!”
“Be that as it may, Lass, there’s no need for you to trouble yourself over my hurt feelings. They weren’t wrong, after all…”
Jasmine was having none of that. Her dark hair beneath the gorgeous flow of her organza veil swished around her as she shook her head emphatically, eyes sparking intently as she refused to allow him to glance away. “Hardly, Captain! I think I am a better judge of character than that, and I know backbiting chatter does not begin to capture all of your fine qualities, merely the flaws. Besides,” and she winked here, lacing her arm through his free one as she steered them back toward his family’s table to greet them all herself, “you would do the same thing for me were the situations reversed. And I hear that your lovely wife has already been speaking up for my own handsome scoundrel. We princesses who can recognize a diamond in the rough have to stick together!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Things calmed down as the reception festivities wore on through the afternoon. Killian found it easier than expected to brush the sniping words he’d heard to the back of his mind and enjoy himself. There was too much to see and do, too many friends, both new and old, to catch up with, and far more happiness to celebrate than sour notes to dwell on. He had challenged David to a game of darts and trounced the royal soundly. He had spoken at length with Aladdin himself about the future as a married man, starting families, and loving a princess. He had even attempted to settle a heated debate between Henry and Belle over whether The Thousand and One Nights or The Book of the Wonders of India were the better read. He had respectfully declined to offer his opinion in the end though, knowing better than to side against either one of them when they were so passionately involved.
As the hours seemed to melt heedlessly into evening and the lavish banquet was served to conclude the night, Killian found himself seated with Henry and Emma on one side of him and Belle on the other at a long table, and across from him, grinning broadly with the guileless enthusiasm one couldn’t help but love was none other than Ariel and her husband, Prince Eric. Everyone was chatting happily throughout the appetizer, but as those first plates were cleared away and the main course was served, Killian encountered a rather vexing conundrum.
The fragrant lamb dish placed before them was tempting enough to make his mouth water in mere seconds. However, how to actually go about eating it posed a bit more of a challenge. Had he been on his own or back in Storybrooke where he was comfortable, it would have been no trouble. He would simply have pierced the larger cut of meat with the point of his hook to hold it still and then cut it into smaller pieces with his knife, then switched to his fork when finished. However, using his hook at this fine a table and in such company seemed as though it might raise a few eyebrows.
He paused, attempting to gauge his options without alerting his companions that anything was amiss. And, of course, it took no more time than that for the jackals to begin circling once more. Prickling along the back of his neck, Killian sensed that he was being watched as he debated his next move. Glancing about him surreptitiously, he found the culprits easily enough. Agrabahn nobles or wives of council members, he thought he remembered vaguely from an earlier introduction. They had also seemed reluctant to shake his hand, and now he saw that his instinctual assessment has been correct. Though he couldn’t hear their actual words, their heads were bent together as their eyes drifted from him to his plate and utensils and back before he did hear a small trill of smug laughter.
What he did not expect was the cry of outrage that rang out just across from him in the next moment. Shooting to her feet with an abruptness that sent her chair toppling to the floor behind her with a loud crash, sweet natured Ariel herself was pointing at the two catty women with a finger that practically trembled in her righteous anger. “How dare you, y-y-you harpies!” she exclaimed, her volume attracting more attention than Killian would have hoped, staring at his plate with jaw clenched enough to make the muscle within it tick noticeably as well as the heat of a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks.
“You ought to be ashamed of yourselves!” Ariel continued, her own pale cheeks flushed with her fit of pique. Eric reached out a concerned hand in an attempt to soothe her, but she wasn’t finished. Killian half expected her to stamp her foot for more emphasis.
“Have you - either of you - any idea how much the man you’re giggling at can accomplish with just one hand? How much he has done for numerous ones gathered at this very table? It would hardly matter if you were about to see him use one of these ridiculous forks incorrectly!”
As if to illustrate her point, Ariel picked up a fork and twirled it around her fingers rather menacingly, if Killian did say so himself. “I’ve had to learn to eat with unfamiliar manners and utensils too. It’s not as easy as it looks! And if any of you have any more to say about it in regards to my friend, well… I’ll show you another way to weld the pointy end of these things, right in your pompous behinds!”
The whole gathering was stunned into silence for a moment. Killian could hardly move as he watched Ariel breathing heavily and then plunking back down into her righted seat and leaning in Eric’s solid comfort. He could sense Henry’s wide-eyed awe beside him as he looked at the mermaid princess admiringly. Yet, he struggled to make himself shift his eyes to Emma on Henry’s other side, hating that he had put her so close to such an embarrassing spectacle. Though when he did, a relieved whoosh of air escaped as he saw her glancing back at him, biting her lip and looking torn between wanting to pull him away from the table and soothe him as only she knew how, and standing up to whistle and applaud her agreement with Ariel’s speech.
Leaning closer, so that only he and Henry could hear her, Emma’s eyes twinkled merrily with mischievous pleasure as she told him, “You’ve got an entire Princess Squad watching your back, don’t you, Pirate?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Late that night - or early the next morning, depending on how one wanted to look at it - Emma rolled over in bed to prop her chin on her husband’s chest, idly running her fingers through the dark hair covering his always deliciously warm skin. Though he had been holding her cozily as always, arm around her waist and her back pressed to his front, cocooned in his embrace, she knew he was still awake and was sure she knew what was troubling him.
She couldn’t help thanking her fellow princess once again in her mind for remembering that she and Killian were basically still newlyweds as well. Jasmine had seen to it that they had a gorgeously appointed suite to themselves, far enough from her family and the rest of the Storybrooke visitors to afford them some privacy. The large, open room’s windows with gauzy curtains let in the rapidly cooling air deliciously after it had blown so hot across the desert all day. It felt luxurious on her bare skin beneath the fine, light sheets in the giant canopy bed. She had definitely thought there would be some things they could get up to in that bed once they’d returned from the reception some hours ago, but Killian had merely readied for sleep, lay down, and opened his arms to hold her.
Not that there was anything wrong with that, or that she minded cuddling up with her handsome husband whenever they could catch a quiet moment, but she sensed something bothering him in his lack of playful banter and the tension she could feel in his body. That was why when she rolled over and began to run her fingers lightly over his skin. She took a deep breath, and then finally raised her eyes to meet his. Words were not always her strong suit, but she was determined to try - especially when she got a glimpse of the melancholy lingering behind the look of sleepy affection in his eyes.
“You know that those few people who would doubt you are such a tiny minority… don’t you?” she asked, hoping that he did, and that he would believe her in this as he always had before. “And even if they weren’t - which they are - it wouldn’t matter. The people who count know what kind of man you really are; they see the same hero that I do.”
Emma paused, holding her breath, watching as Killian opened his mouth, then closed it, then swallowed hard, before finally speaking aloud in ragged but determined tones. “Aye, so all of you have assured me. Most of the time, I even believe it. Still, those incidents tonight…. They remind me that I do not wish for my past, my villainous reputation, to cast doubt upon your family. I would never want to tarnish your rule or your standing with your people.”
He looked so distraught, so painfully sorry that Emma had to cradle his face in her hands and lean up to kiss him right then, trying to pour all of the comfort and reassurance she possibly could into the gesture, even before she answered his concerns. When she did pull back, he offered her a smile looked at least mildly soothed, and she gently brought one hand back to his chest while the other sought out his hand to twine her fingers with his.
Squeezing gently for emphasis, she tried to answer him the best way she knew how. “Okay, first of all, what’s this about my family and my people? They’re yours now too. Killian, you have to know that my family loves you. My dad is like a lost puppy when you can’t come to his Tuesday Guy’s Nights - ” That did make him crack a genuine smile she noticed happily. “That’s what it means when you marry and two become one, right? What’s mine is yours, and what’s yours is mine. There’s no separating it back out now.”
Killian nodded his agreement, but a furrow of concern still creased his forehead. “Aye, Love, of course you’re right, but still - ”
“Ah ah ah,” she shook her head, cutting him off, “I’m not done. You also have to see that though it felt like a lot bubbled up today, it was less than 10 people, in a gathering of hundreds. They are such a tiny percentage, and they do not matter. Anyone who really knows you would never think any of those things you heard today. Besides that, this rule and kingdom you seem so concerned about? What bearing does that have on our everyday life? Storybrooke isn’t some old-fashioned monarchy, and we’re going back to Storybrooke. You aren’t hurting anything… you make it so much better.” She spoke that last with fervent emphasis, clinging to his hand and waiting for his response.
Slowly the last of the clouds and the frown of concern seemed to ease from her husband’s face. Emma felt her heart flutter a bit as he met her eyes with a look of such awed reverence and love, and joy where there had been shame and self-doubt. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Emma, but you’re right. I’ll not allow a few naysayers to ruin what we’ve built.”
Shaking her head, eyes welling with tears of relief and love of her own, Emma just managed to choke out, “I’m the one who doesn’t know how I managed to deserve you. You chose me, you didn’t give up on me - even when I made it difficult, and you put me back together, Killian. You - you showed me my heart still worked.”
He was on her the minute she stopped speaking, lips capturing hers as his thumb came up to brush away her tears. He rolled them to hover over her, and just stared at her for a moment, both their hearts pounding, before she reached up and pulled him back to her. There were still a few hours of darkness left, and neither of them planned to waste it with any space between them.
A fluffy moment in time post-wedding. For @teamhook our fearless leader of the CSMM, my encourager, and the one who unites this wild group. We love you, and I promise there is even more light on the horizon. Keep a weather eye. 😉
“Swan, what are you doing?” Killian arched a brow at his wife, curled up by the fireside with her hair piled atop her head and a basket of yarn beside her. Her tongue poked out between her lips and her brow furrowed as she concentrated on whatever she was doing with the small metal hook in her right hand. She glanced up at him briefly before returning to her work with a grunt. “Darling, it’s the middle of the night…”
“Hush, I’m focused.” He crossed the room and peered over her shoulder at what she was creating. At the moment it looked to be a large flat swath of fabric--a scarf? A blanket? He wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t about to choose the wrong option. Instead, he rubbed the back of her neck, suppressing a grin at her sigh of pleasure.
“You’ve been down here for hours. Come to bed,” he suggested. Her absence in their bed was what had woken him in the first place, and he wasn’t about to return without her. “This can wait until morning,” he added when he heard her yawn. He was winning her over, he could feel it. He kept up with the gentle pressure on the base of her skull, knowing she often held tension in her neck and shoulders.
“I’ll make coffee and we can watch the sunrise from the balcony,” he promised, leaning in to kiss the shell of her ear and yet she stubbornly persisted in her work. “I’ll make breakfast while you continue this craft of yours. Come now, love. I know you’re exhausted. What’s the rush?”
She paused in her efforts and turned to look at him, blush painting her cheeks a rosy pink. “I, uh, well...the last time we were aboard the Jolly...” She made a terrible impression of his accent and cleared her throat. He fondly recalled that outing--it had been just the two of them, Henry otherwise occupied at the movies with Violet. They’d sailed out past the safety of the harbour and along the coastline for a while, enjoying a picnic on deck and entirely different pleasures as well once safely out of view of a spyglass. Her hair fanned out like spun gold, her skin luminous in the early evening glow off the water...Killian shook himself from his imaginings.
“What about it, love?”
“I may have ripped your blanket that second time we...in your cabin,” she bit down on her lower lip and he grinned broadly at her. “I figured I should replace it myself, so I’m learning how to crochet. It’s getting cold and I thought we’d need it soon. Well, and maybe want it again soon.” She smiled up at him and tried her best version of his own eyebrow arch. It was sweet and he echoed her expression with his own. Killian adored how much his Swan loved their time on the water, how much she’d embraced the Jolly as an extension of their home. The captain’s quarters had never been so filled with warmth and light as they were now that she accompanied him each night they were aboard.
She relented at last, standing and stretching her weary limbs. First reaching up toward the ceiling, which gave Killian the most enticing peek at her stomach, then down to touch her toes. At that point, he couldn’t resist and moved lightning-quick to slap the round swell of her arse. “Hey! Who do you think you are?” She rose up on her tiptoes, pressing an accusing finger to his sternum, and trying for ferocity but landing somewhere on the verge of laughter based on the sparkle in her eyes.
“Your husband,” he retorted, licking his lips and bending down to scoop her up. He tossed Emma over his shoulder, clicking off the lamp before packing her upstairs and to their bedroom. Killian was grateful Henry was staying the night with a friend so he wouldn’t wake to hear her shrieks of feigned distress now, or the filthy demands that poured from her in the hour that followed. Gods knew they tried their best to keep quiet when they weren’t alone, but it was freeing to hear his wife’s unrestrained passion as he worked her up time and again.
Both sated and on the edge of sleep, Killian basked in the pearlescent glow of Emma’s sweat-slicked skin in the moonlight. It was entrancing, the way her magic often shimmered like this, following the path of his hand as he traced little patterns across her skin. She hummed as if in thought, turning and brushing her lips across his. “Y’know,” she mumbled, “that blanket would go a lot quicker with a much larger hook…” His silver hook appeared suddenly in her hand and he shook his head at the impossible woman who had somehow chosen him.
“You, my love, are a goddess of mischief.” He set the hook aside, pulling her close and curling himself around her. “There will be no using the legendary weapon of Captain Hook to make a bloody blanket. Now, sleep Swan. It’s far too late already.” She mumbled something that sounded awfully like we’ll see about that, and both drifted off in the comfort of one another’s arms
A Visit with Marco's Home for Lost Boys by GleefullyCaptainSwan
Read on AO3 or FF
This extra chapter to my completed fic Marco's Home for Lost Boys is dedicated to Alma (@teamhook) I hope this fluffy little addition to this finished story brings a smile to your face and happiness to your heart. Even in the darkness, a little light can bring you joy.
“Henry, can you make sure that Hope has her sun hat, I don’t want her to get burned on the water.”
“Sun hat, sun hat, want sun hat henny.” The little girl came bounding through the back door, a trail of dust flying behind her as the small puppy jumped up and down with muddy paws against the teetering toddler.
“Hope, what did you get into?” Emma exclaimed. The girl’s face was covered in dirt, her white dress stained with paw prints across the front.
“Found cheasure.” She beamed.
“Hope, your dress is ruined.” She groaned and the little girl frowned.
“Got daddy cheasure.” She whined, holding up a small bottle, dirt adhering to the edges of it as her wet fingers clung to the bottle as if it were the most priceless item she had ever owned.
“I see that, but I told you not to get dirty in your dress.” Emma scolded as Killian returned through the front of the house.
“Daddy.” The little girl’s face brightened as she wrestled out of Emma’s grasp, advancing on Killian, and jumping up into his outstretched arms.
“There’s my girl. What have you got there? Is that treasure?” The girl nodded excitedly, pushing the bottle into his hands. “For me? It’s amazing little one, I’ll cherish it forever.”
Emma rolled her eyes as she stood, the sight of her husband and their daughter easing her frustration. “She won’t be able to wear her dress today.”
“Daddy didn’t like this dress anyway.” He whispered against the little girls’ golden curls. “I think she’d look better in the blue one.”
“But we picked out the white one especially for today.”
He walked toward her, leaning over, and kissing her cheek as he cradled the toddler against his side. “And I told you that I don’t care what she wears, so long as you are all there, so it’s going to be fine. Besides, the blue one will match her eyes.”
“Don’t use the pretty blue eyes thing against me. I know how you work.”
“Do you now, love?” His own ocean blue eyes glinted in the light, a playful smile crossing his lips. He brushed them against her own, heat splaying across her cheeks.
“Cheater.” She whispered against his mouth.
“Pirate.” He responded with a smirk.
“Daddy piwate.” Hope giggled between them.
“Eww, are you two kissing again?” They turned to see Henry enter the room with Hope’s hat in his hand, two small boys following closely behind him.
Killian stepped away from her, Hope still on his hip. “One day you’ll understand why, son.” Killian winked at the older boy, then tousled the small boy’s hair beside him. “You want to help me find the blue dress for Hope?”
“Do I have to wear this jacket?” The boy fussed.
Killian glanced over his shoulder and Emma narrowed her eyes. “Only until the ceremony is done, Leo, then I promise you can put it in the back of the truck and never wear it again.” He whispered the last part and Emma rolled her eyes. The boy hollered in excitement and followed Killian to the back of the cabin.
“You both ready to go?” Emma watched as Henry snapped the last button on Roland’s jacket.
“Everything is ship shape, Mom.” Henry replied. “You worry too much; you know that right?”
“Who said I’m worried?”
He chuckled. “I’ve known you for over four years now, any time you worry about something, you bite your lip, and your eyebrows do that thing.”
“What thing?” She laughed, reaching up to touch her eyebrow.
“The wavy thing where you look like you’ve been thinking too long.”
“I’m not nervous, I’m just anxious. I want everything to go right today. This is a big deal for your dad and the family today.”
“I know and everything is going to be fine.”
She wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulder and pulled him to her as he groaned when she planted kisses against his cheek and forehead. “Come on Mom, no more kisses. I’m too old for that”
“You’re never too old for my kisses.”
“I want kisses!” The smaller boy whined, and Emma scooped Roland into her arms and planted her lips on his cheek.
“Hey now, why am I missing out on all this family love?” Killian entered the room, their daughter skipping happily beside him in her favorite blue dress, Leo following quietly behind.
“No more kissing.” Henry demanded as he pulled away, scooping Hope into his arms, and stepping out of the family circle. “We’re going to be late if we don’t get out of here anyway.”
Emma smoothed down her dress and brushed the strands of her hair behind her ears. Looking over her family, she surveyed each of them to ensure they were all ready to leave. Her heart swelled with happiness as she watched her husband standing there, their children gathered around him at his feet. They had been blessed beyond comparison when Henry arrived on their doorstep. After Hope was born, Henry helped change diapers, fed her bottles, read her stories, and quickly became part of the family.
After they found out who his stepmother was, the woman he had run away from the night he came to live with them, Emma knew they could never let him go back to the life he tried to escape. Marco’s Home for Lost Boys was reinstated, and Killian and Emma began their quest to honor the man who had saved them both by continuing his legacy.
A couple years later, Leo turned up in the neighboring town while Leroy was on a fishing expedition. He knew immediately that the boy would find a home with the Jones family and before they knew it, their family had grown again.
Six months later, Roland was turned in to the police station in the middle of the night with just a note stating that the parents were unable to take care of the boy and knew that there was a family that would take in lost children in town. Emma had a full home and a husband who was determined to ensure that every child that stayed with them felt like they were loved just as much as Marco had loved them.
“Ok, I think we look presentable.” She said with a grin. “We’d better go before David starts texting us asking where we are.”
Killian glanced at his phone. “You’re about ten minutes too late for that.”
Emma laughed and pushed her family out the door toward their truck, buckling the kids into their seats as Henry jumped in between her and Killian in the front.
“Who’s ready for a new adventure?” Killian announced as he started the truck.
“Daddy piwate venture.” Hope cheered.
“Yes, Daddy is taking us on a Pirate adventure.” Emma glanced at her husband who smiled in her direction. The man was a marvel to look at even after all their years together. He was the only man she had known who could make her stomach flutter with butterflies and her knees weak with anticipation simply from a glance or a smile. The sunlight was shining on his face, flecks of grey were sprinkled throughout the hair on his chin. He was older, more mature, yet still the same fierce man who had protected her from harm all those years ago.
“What’s in that head of yours?” He questioned as he pulled her from the truck twenty minutes later. “You were quiet on the drive over.”
The corners of her mouth turned upward, “Was just thinking about how sexy you look with all that grey hair coming in.” She ran her fingers through his soft hair.
“Even with all the years, I’ve still maintained my youthful glow.” He winked.
“You still turn me on.” She whispered as he closed the door. He turned toward her quickly, a glimpse of longing in his eyes.
“Do I now? Perhaps tonight you can show me exactly how much.” She started to walk away when he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest and nuzzling his nose into her neck. “Did I mention you look gorgeous in this dress?”
“You did not, but I am very glad you noticed.” She giggled.
“Mommy, Roland won’t stop hitting me.” Leo tugged on her dress and Emma bent down and scooped the boy into her arms.
“Did you tell him that wasn’t nice?”
“No, I kicked him.” Emma narrowed her eyes, trying not to laugh.
“Well, that’s not how we solve things, Leo.”
Killian patted the boy on the head. “Next time, try asking nicely first. If he doesn’t stop, then come get one of us.” The boy nodded and Killian reached into the truck and pulled Hope to his side and Emma stepped toward the harbor to join the rest of the boys.
“There you are! Dave’s been going on for ten minutes about how late the two of you are for everything.” Will approached them, reaching out and pulling Leo from her arms. “Go, before he drives everyone insane.”
Emma chuckled and rushed forward with Killian and Hope, making their way to the bottom of the pier. David saw them as soon as they turned the corner and darted toward them. “It’s about time, you weren’t making more children were you.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Killian teased and Emma smacked him lightly on the shoulder.
“You know it takes a while to get all these kids ready to do anything.”
“The press is already here. Graham is on board, August, Arthur, and Robin are already in place on deck.”
“Alright, Will is bringing all the kids down now.” She turned and watched as Will skipped and ran with the boys, laughing as they made their way down the pier.
“Alright, I’ll see you guys up there.” David turned and walked up the plank to the ship. She turned toward Killian and reached out to take her daughter from him.
“Are you ready for this?”
He bit his lip, looking up at his ship docked at the pier in front of him. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” His eyes were back on hers and it caused her heart to skip at the emotion she saw there.
“We’re a team, right?”
“Aye, I love you.”
She leaned up, planting her lips on his. “I love you too.”
He reached out and took her hand once Will had retreated up the plank with the boys. They walked up the plank together, overwhelmed by the amount of people already standing on the deck when they reached the top. There were cameras everywhere, and they were ushered to the bow of the ship. Emma stood off to the side when Graham gestured for Killian to join him.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, it appears our guest of honor has arrived.” Graham announced and the cameras turned toward them, and the crowd began to hush. “We are here today as Killian Jones takes on a new role in the town of Storybrooke.” He gestured to Killian who stepped up to the mic, putting his hand on the bible in front of him.
"I do solemnly swear that I am duly qualified, according to the constitution of this state, to exercise the duties of the office to which I have been elected and that I will, to the best of my ability, discharge the duties thereof, and preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of this state and of the United States.
As Mayor of the City of Storybrooke, I will equally, fairly, and impartially, to the best of my ability, and skill, exercise the trust reposed in me, and will use my best endeavor to preserve the peace and carry into effect according to law, the purposes for which I have been elected, So help me God."
Emma clapped loudly as he finished his line, Hope bouncing excitedly on her hip. “Daddy.” The girl squealed. Emma was so proud of her husband. He had come so far in the last few years, doing everything he could to put his past behind him and ensure that everything he did going forward would make his family proud.
Killian shook the Sheriff’s hand and turned back toward the cameras. “I wanted to take a few moments today, to recognize the reason I’m here today. None of this would have been possible without one man. Marco meant a lot to many of the people here today. Without his love, compassion, and guidance so many of us wouldn’t have had a home, or a family…” He paused and looked at her. “So many of us would have been lost, never finding the love we deserved.”
He turned away, and she wiped the tears from her eyes. “My wife, Emma and I took over the home that took us in so long ago, and we’ve welcomed many lost boys since those doors opened. My father would be proud to know that his legacy still lives on. Because of Marco, I have a family, a wife, children, and hope.”
Her daughter squealed upon hearing her name and Emma quieted the girl on her hip.
“We stand today at the helm of my newest ship, The Jolly Roger, a ship by the same name once held memories of a very dark time in my life, but today, I hope it will bring light to all who board her. Today, we are opening our doors to a new adventure, a ship where children young and old can come and have their own pirate adventure, learn to sail, search for treasure, and find their happy ending.”
He gestured to Will who pulled Belle with him to stand beside his brother. “My brother Will and his wife Belle have signed on to Captain this vessel. I know they will do our father proud as they bring happiness and joy to the children who come seeking adventure.”
Killian gestured to David on the other side of the deck. “In partnership with Marco’s Childhood Adventures run by my brother David and his wife Mary Margaret, they will be covering the cost of the adventure for needy children near and far.”
Cheers erupted all around them and Killian once again shook the hand of the Sherriff.
“Most of all, I couldn’t have accomplished any of this without my beautiful wife, and my first mate, Emma Jones. Without her, this ship is just a few planks of wood, but with her by my side, we have created a life that is worth living, and worth sharing with others.” He stepped back toward her. “Congratulations Mayor Jones.” She grinned as Hope lunged toward her father.
“Want daddy.” She cried and Killian pulled her into his arms.
“Then daddy you shall have little one.” Emma felt her heart flutter again as she watched the two of them on the deck of the ship, Hope taking shaky steps as she held her father’s hand and they walked along the planks of the ship. Emma was reminded of her childhood when Killian held her hand and walked her out of the shipping crate he had found her in. She had been scared and unsure of who to trust, but Killian had enough trust for them both.
Just as he stood with his daughter, their hands intertwined as he pointed out at the ocean in front of them, she could see the boy she fell in love with. The boy who never stopped believing in her, who always protected and loved her. The man who had become her world.
“So, did you tell him yet?”
Emma jumped as Will approached her, putting an arm around her shoulder. “Tell him what?”
He rolled his eyes and pulled her closer. “That he needs to buy a new truck.” Emma elbowed him in his side, and he pulled away from her with a laugh.
“No. Today is his day. I want it to be about him and Marco.”
“Emma, you’ve known for two weeks now. What are you waiting for?”
“I don’t know. I mean, so much is going on. He’s Mayor now, and the ship is finally taking off, and good Lord Will, we already have four kids at home.” She bit her lip with worry.
“Sis, it’s Killian, the two of you love children. He’s going to be bloody ecstatic with the news.”
“You really think so?”
“If he didn’t want any more kids, he’d stop doing that thing that causes them.”
“Very funny!” Emma chided. “I could say the same for you. Belle was positively glowing during the press conference.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. We don’t behave in that way.” He said with a wink as he wandered back toward his wife, his hand absentmindedly resting against her slightly swelling stomach.
Emma pressed a hand to her own, feeling a bit queasy on the bow of the ship. She didn’t know why she hadn’t told Killian yet that she was expecting. It had been quite the shock to her when the doctor told her the news. She had thought she had a bit of the stomach flu when she went in to see Dr. Whale. Finding out she was pregnant was a bit overwhelming with everything else that was going on. There would be five kids in their home. Five truly loved children, of course, but it was still five children.
“Mom, I think we are going to Granny’s for dinner…” Henry paused as he watched her. “Are you alright?”
Emma leaned against the ship to steady herself. “Yeah, I’m fine, just not feeling my sea legs today.” She joked. “Perhaps you could help me back down the ramp.” Henry held out his arm and she walked beside him down the plank until she was back on solid ground and her head stopped swimming.
“You sure you’re alright, Mom? I know it’s been a busy day. You seem tired. Do you want me to tell dad we need to go home?”
“No, I just need to eat something.” They walked quietly toward the car. “Henry…” She paused. “You’re happy here right? I mean, when we took you in, it was just us and now we have Roland and Leo and…”
“Mom, I have the best life anyone could ever have. I never had a family before I met you. Now I get to play on a pirate ship and be a big brother to three exuberant but happy kids, and I have a dad who would do absolutely anything for me, and a mom who never lets me forget that I’m loved. I wouldn’t change anything about my life.”
Emma smiled softly, “I’m so happy you found us, Henry.”
“Me too, mom.”
Once they got to Granny’s, Emma made her way around the room, interacting with the people who had come to celebrate. She caught up with August and Arthur, who had returned for the swearing in, reminding them that they needed to visit more often. She approached Robin, turning toward his wife Regina. “How does it feel to be retired?”
The woman laughed. “I’ll miss the job, but I think Killian will do a better job than I did.”
“So, what now?”
“I’m putting her to work at the bar.” Robin announced and Regina only giggled.
“I told him I would do it, if I got free drinks.”
“I don’t think she realizes how good a deal I got out of this.” As they kissed, her attention was drawn to the booth in the corner where Killian was sitting with their daughter. He had a pile of whipped cream on his nose, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he teased Hope beside him. She excused herself and made her way toward the man, watching as his daughter grabbed ahold of the cream, slipping the mess into her mouth, and sucking the cream from her fingers.
“What’s going on over here?” She said as she sat down across from them.
“Daddy silly, I ticky.”
“Yes I see this.” She reached across the table and wiped the rest of the whipped cream from his nose.
“Ticky daddy, wash.”
“Are your hands sticky, love?” He took her hands in his and wet the cloth in front of him, wiping her hands clean. “All better, beautiful?”
“Daddy hero.” She beamed; her face glowing as she stared up at her father.
“Did you ever think this would be our life?” Emma asked suddenly.
Killian turned toward her, his smile still on his face from looking at his daughter. “Did I ever think that my daughter would call me her hero while my beautiful wife looked on adoringly? Not in a million lifetimes.”
“Do you regret any of it?”
“Never. If we didn’t go through what we did, we might never have gotten to where we are.”
She reached across the table and held his hand, watching as his daughter played with the prosthetic on his other wrist. Killian never let his handicap stop him from accomplishing anything. He had never wallowed in self pity when they came out of the nightmare that caused it. He had faced everything with her as a challenge to overcome. And they had overcome everything together.
“Remember what happened after Henry’s softball game a couple of months ago?”
Killian pushed a mouthful of food into Hope’s mouth. “Not particularly, you know how excited I get at those things. I always get worked up at the umpires.”
“Right, but remember when Henry hit that home run and you kept telling everyone that it was your boy that won the game?”
“Of course, crowning achievement of the year. I was very proud.”
“And very excited.” She whispered. “If you remember…” She leaned forward, “Under the bleachers.”
He held his hand over his daughters’ ears. “Not in front of the lass, love.” She laughed and he removed his hands before he smirked. “But of course, I remember that day. It had been a while since I remember you cursing like that, pretty sure I accomplished a record that day…” he held up three fingers and Emma remembered that he was able to bring her to orgasm three times in such a small span of time as the two of them raced like children tearing off just enough clothes to allow him to enter her in the small space under the bleachers.
“Yes, you did.” She said, feeling her cheeks warm. He still made her feel like a teenager, no matter how old they got.
“Not that I’m complaining, but what brought on that trip down memory lane, love?”
Hope giggled beside him and Killian leaned over to blow a kiss against the girl’s neck which elicited a loud squeal. “Marco would be proud of you.” She said with a smile which caused him to sit up and stare at her.
“You think?”
“I know. You’re an amazing father, you’re going to be the best Mayor this town has ever had, you make me happier than I ever could have hoped, and you are carrying on his legacy.”
“I’m only being the man I know how to be, the man he raised me to be.”
“Even if it means that our house is full, and we never get alone time?” She laughed.
“I prefer to think of it as a challenge.” He winked.
“It’s about to get a lot more challenging.” She said with a serious sigh.
“Emma, we have three boys and a toddler running around the house, how could it ever get more challenging than that?” She bit her lip and he paused. “Wait…are you saying…” She closed her eyes and scrunched her nose. “You’re…” When she opened her eyes, his were as big as saucers. “Emma, are you pregnant?”
She nodded nervously as she held his eye contact. “I didn’t want to ruin the celebration for you, but…”
“A baby.” He said softly, sitting back against the seat.
“Baby.” Hope announced loudly. “Momma baby.”
Emma lunged forward to push another spoon of food into the girl’s mouth as people were starting to stare in their direction.
“Are you ok?”
“I’m more than ok, I mean, we’re gonna need to get one of those ridiculous minivan’s or something because we aren’t all going to fit in the truck anymore but…”
Emma snorted and he looked at her in confusion. “I’m sorry, but I’m just picturing you driving a minivan.”
“I beg your pardon; I’ll have you know that I’ll be the sexiest dad at the school drop off you’ve ever seen.”
“Baby. I, baby.” Hope squealed.
“Yes, love, you’re the baby.” Killian teased his daughter, tugging at her curly blonde locks before turning back to face her. “Are you ok with this?” He asked her seriously.
She nodded. “I am, I love our children, all of them, and I love you more than I’ve loved anyone in my entire life.”
“You know Henry and I were going to build a tree house in the back yard this summer. Might be a fun project to get all the kids out of the house for a bit.”
“The boys will love that.”
“I want tee house too.” Hope complained.
“Of course, love, when you are bigger.”
“I am big.” She pouted.
“You are, but you need to watch over mommy, you’re going to be a big sister now.”
“Mommy baby.” The little girl repeated while clapping her hands.
“Do you think the boys are going to be upset that there’s going to be another baby in the house?” Emma asked with concern.
“I think the boys are going to love the baby as much as they love you, as much as I love you.” He smiled, reaching out and taking her hand.
As they made their way back to the cabin that evening, thoughts, and excitement running through her brain, she tucked her children in to each of their beds, kissed their heads, and shut the door to their rooms. When Killian closed the door opposite her to Hope’s room, they met in the middle, his arms wrapping around her.
“We’re going to need to build onto this house if we keep growing this family.” He chuckled.
“I know, the boys are going to want their own rooms eventually.”
“Thankfully, we have a lot of brothers in town who are good for some free labor.”
“Did you know Henry has started writing?” Emma looked back at the door behind her. “I found a notebook on his bed while he was showering.”
“Aye, I think he has a crush on a girl at his school which has inspired his tale.”
“What? Who?”
“Violet.” Emma’s eyes grew large. “Don’t tell him I told you, it was not a mom discussion.” She reached up and pretended to press a key to her lips.
“Secret is safe with me. How is he getting so old already?” She followed him to their bedroom as they both began to undress for bed.
“The lad is growing like a weed.” He turned to face her, his hand resting on her stomach. “Perhaps it’s another lass?”
“Maybe, or a dashing pirate like his father.”
“I am dashing, aren’t I?” He teased, pushing her back toward the bed.
“You already got me pregnant, Mister.” She cooed as she scooted up on the bed, his body resting over hers as his mouth brushed against her jaw.
“We should make sure, can’t hurt to practice.” His hand ran up her thigh. “I remember last time you were pregnant that you really enjoyed it when I…”
“Oh…” She moaned softly when his hand hit the spot she needed him to touch. “I suppose it would be a good idea to practice, it has been a while since I was pregnant.” She chuckled as her hand fisted in the sheets.
“I’m honored to assist you in any way that I can.” He breathed against her thigh.
“I have such a talented husband.” She grunted when he hit the spot that had her biting her tongue, his name flowing from her mouth, she could feel him smirk as the scruff on his chin grazed her sensitive skin. “How did I get so lucky?”
He sat up on his elbows and placed a kiss on her stomach. “How did a lost boy and a little lost girl end up finding a happy ending together?”
“That’s not what this is, it’s something else.”
“What, then?” She pulled her husband toward her, his lips grazing hers as she murmured against his skin.
Summary: An outtake that centers around some worries and family feels for Hook and Emma as they confront something we all must at some point, and the first appearance of Hope Swan-Jones in our little universe.
Rating: All chapters range G - T (to be safe)
AO3 - FF
For @teamhook
Chapter Two: Falling Behind
Bleariness clouded Emma's vision as she woke, eyelids blinking away the late morning sunlight that streamed through the window and lit the soft whites and creams of their bedroom. She rolled the kinks from her neck and stretched, enjoying the crisp coolness of the sheets against her sleep warmed skin.
She must have overslept – the house was uncharacteristically quiet for a Sunday, and even though it had been years since Storybrooke had been disrupted by anything more villainous than teenage rebellion, something about the peacefulness pushed her into abrupt wakefulness. She lurched upright in bed, snatching her robe from the back of the door and wrapping it around herself as she stepped into the hallway.
The sound of something sizzling in the kitchen soothed any immediate worry, but still, she peeked into Hope's room to make sure everything looked normal – her comforter made and folded neatly below the pillows, as it always was when either of her dads oversaw the morning routine. It was definitely a far cry from when Emma was in charge and the entire wad of blankets and sheets was left knotted at the foot of the bed, a tangle-haired little girl hopping up and down on one foot while pulling on socks and trying to brush her teeth.
She let the smell of bacon lead her quickly down the stairs, the floors cool against her bare feet. Her eyes caught the clock and she frowned – it was earlier than she expected her husbands to be back and making breakfast on a Sunday. Usually they were somewhere between Granny's and the docks with Hope until at least nine.
“Hey,” she murmured, coming around the corner into the kitchen and seeing Hook bent over the stove, the last pieces of bacon dropping onto a paper towel lined plate from the fork in his hand, neither Killian nor Hope anywhere in sight. “Just us this morning?”
“Aye,” he smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes in the way that Emma loved.
“What's wrong?” she asked, concern rising up the back of her throat as she moved behind him, standing on her tiptoes and resting her chin on his shoulder, her arms encircling his waist – taking what reassurance she could from his solid presence.
“Everything's fine,” he insisted, his smile broadening as he flicked off the stove and dropped the fork beside the spread of bacon and eggs, turning in her arms and pressing a kiss to the top of her hair before meeting her eyes. “I just thought today I'd stay in and take care of breakfast. Killian and the wee lass should be back from 'pirate practice' soon enough.”
“Well, I'm glad you're here,” Emma teased, her hands traveling along his sides and sweeping upward to find the open edges of his button down, her fingers curling around the fabric and settling in his generous chest hair, silver and dusky against his tan skin, “and I'm not gonna lie, bacon that's already made is a bonus too.”
She pressed her toes against the cool floor and sought his lips, humming against them when she tasted the salty sweetness of maple bacon.
“Look's like someone was stealing pieces out of the pan again.”
“Pirate,” he reminded her, his brace and fingers pulling her more firmly against his chest as his mouth slanted hungrily over her own, their tongues rolling together with practiced ease – what Emma had intended to be a lazy, morning kiss stoking that familiar need in them both.
He backed her insistently against the kitchen table, fingers tugging at the drawstring of her robe as she pushed into him, thoughts of breakfast fading as she considered the other things they could be doing on the table, but her movements stopped suddenly when the press of her hand against his shoulder was met with a hiss of pain. Hook stepped back from her, his own fingers moving to soothe the hurt she hadn't known was there.
“What happened? Are you hurt?”
“No,” he sighed, an edge to his voice that she didn't often hear. “Simply a stiff neck this morning, love.”
“I'm sorry,” she faltered, wanting to simply place her palm against his hurt and make it disappear, her intention clear enough in her face that he pulled back, taking her hand in his own and giving it a squeeze. “You should have woken me up. I can just – ”
“No, Emma, it's fine. I can't have you –” he paused, placing a breath of a kiss against her knuckles, looking for all the world as if he wanted to pull her into his arms again, but was afraid of what moving too swiftly might do. “Perhaps I'll just set the table and the strain will work itself out on its own.”
Letting her hand fall back to her side, she watched as he crossed the kitchen and opened the cabinet, pulling out plates for the four of them.
“Is that why you didn't go with Hope and Killian to the docks?”
It had become something of a longstanding tradition for Hope, Sunday morning with her dads. They would stop at Granny's hot cocoa and then take in the cool sea air, some mornings spent sharing stories and others spent sparring – something their daughter lovingly referred to as 'pirate practice', all three of them armed with blunt wooden swords.
It was the first time she'd ever seen Hook miss one.
The plates clinked against the table as he sat them down heavily.
“Aye,” he rumbled, fingers scratching behind his ear before running through his mop of hair, the black holding much more silver now than it had six years earlier when he'd tumbled into their lives and hearts.
“You know that Hope doesn't care how she spends time with you. You're her father. That's all that matters. She just wants to be with you, whether you're swinging a sword or not,” Emma pointed out softly, watching him carefully as his jaw tightened, insecurity warring with what he knew in his heart. It wouldn't be the first time that Emma had seen it – the way he'd started frowning at himself in the mirror, silently mourning the slow march of grey across his head and scruff. “It doesn't make a difference to any of us.”
“It makes a difference to me, Emma,” he ground out, turning abruptly and gripping the edge of the counter as he stared unseeingly out the window into the yard beyond.
“Jones,” she sighed, closing the distance between them and pressing her body to his back, feeling every tight cord of tension running through him, “Killian...”
She didn't call him Killian often – the three of them had decided early on that it was simply too confusing for everyone – that Jones would do, or Hook – but every now and then Killian would slip from her lips when he needed to be called back to them, when he needed reminding of who he was and who they both saw and loved.
He exhaled heavily, letting his worries fall from his lips as he relaxed into her.
“I know it doesn't make a difference to our little girl, Emma, but...this was the first morning that I woke and truly felt the age that I see in the mirror – and then I watched Hope bound down the porch with her sword already swinging, Killian at her heels and I just...I don't want to fall behind. I feel like I'm falling behind.”
“Hey,” she murmured, urging him around to face her, palm against his rough jaw, “that's not possible. We're family. We're in this together, and that won't ever change – whether you're running after her or not. One day she isn't going to want sword fights and treasure hunts, or someone to draw a smiley face on her pancakes with whipped cream – she's gonna want a shoulder to cry on when her heart gets broken...”
A low growl hummed in the back of his throat, his jaw twitching beneath Emma's fingers at the thought of anyone hurting his little girl.
“...or someone who can look over her shoulder when she paints and tell her just the right shades of purple and red to use for a sunset. We're all gonna get older and change, but that doesn't mean anyone is falling behind – we'll just be moving on to new adventures...together.”
“And what of us, Emma? Five years from now when there's only gray hair and wrinkles, when I've grown softer than I used to be, what will you and Killian think then?”
“None of that is going to change how much I want you, how much I love you...” her fingers found the place where his heart was beating solidly in his chest, pressing firmly and reminding him of just how they'd gotten here. “None of that is going to change how much Killian loves you.”
“Aye,” he murmured, fingers looping with hers as they both remembered the fear that day had carried – the day they put an end to his curse entirely – all of it washed away by hope and love and leaving them standing here. “You'll have to forgive the insecurities of an old pirate, darling.”
“Our pirate,” she chided. “Besides, did you want me any less after I'd added a few more stretch marks to my stomach and my hips got wider – when my boobs sagged a little more after years of nursing?”
“Your breasts, Emma, are still perfect works of art,” Hook promised, looking affronted at the mere notion that they were any less beautiful than they'd once been.
In fact, he loved them all the more for having watched her nurture and care for their child, feeding her through the long hours of the night and comforting her when the trials of the day were simply too much for a little one to stand. That type of love – a mother's love – it was something Alice had never known as a baby, and he worshiped his wife a little more each day for having given that gift to Hope. There wasn't a mark left on her body that he didn't cherish, that wasn't a reminder of the depth of her heart.
To him, she was a goddess.
“If you can still look at me and see beauty in all these stretch marks – then you can't doubt it's the same when we look at you – and some more gray hair and a rum belly won't change that, not ever.”
“Well, let's not allow things to deteriorate to that point, shall we?” Hook muttered, his cheeks reddening at the remembrance of Emma's story – of her meeting with aging Captain who no longer existed, a future that he'd thankfully avoided by following the Seer's advice and seeking out a small town called Storybrooke, a town that held not only the promised end of his curse, but the rest of his happiness for days to come.
“I'm just saying,” Emma whispered, her fingers dragging along his skin as she pressed the smile of her lips to his own, “it still wouldn't matter, Jones.”
He swallowed her surprised gasp as his hand slipped into the loosened folds of her robe, calloused palm glancing along the warmth of her skin before the sound of the door flying inward had them both pulling apart – the stillness of the house shattered by the return of their yet-to-be-tired-out daughter.
“Hope,” Emma sighed, tightening her robe and turning just in time to catch the tornado of long, dark locks and flailing limbs running headlong into her arms, barely leaning her head out of the way in time to keep from getting whacked with an errant wooden sword. “What have I said about not throwing the door open? You're gonna break it down one of these days.”
“And you know the rule about swords in the house, my love,” Hook reminded her, plucking the wooden toy from her hands and placing it on the counter. “Now, where's Dad? Did he make it home, or is he still outside bemoaning the loss you surely handed him?”
“Let's not be hasty – I wouldn't go so far as to call it a loss,” Killian insisted, stepping through the door and easing it closed behind him, his own wooden sword dropping into the umbrella stand near the entrance. “Our little lass put to use some very impressive evasive maneuvers – quite insistent on hurrying home this morning.”
“Did she now?” Hook laughed, “and what could have been the cause of that?”
“We missed you, Papa,” Hope explained, reaching out and squirming until Hook plucked her out of Emma's arms, jogging her into a seat on his hip. “And bacon.”
“Ah, now we get to the truth of the matter,” he murmured, placing a lingering kiss on their daughter's curls, nearly as dark as he and Killian's, though her face was the tiny, spitting image of Emma. “I suppose it's a good thing I made bacon then – because I missed you as well.”
“It was a quiet morning without you,” Killian added, still shucking his jacket as he met Emma's cheek with a kiss and then leaned over their daughter to brush his lips against Hook's as well. “Despite this one being up well before the sun, I seem to have failed at running her ragged even in the slightest – we'll have to take her out for some more sparring this afternoon.”
“Aye, that we will.”
“That all sounds great,” Emma agreed, grabbing the abandoned stack of plates and placing them down neatly in front of the chairs at the table, “but I woke up to the smell of bacon and still haven't gotten to eat any – so let's make plans after breakfast, sound good?”
“Aye aye, Captain!” Hope yelled, her words devolving into a stream of giggles that she buried in Hook's chest as both her fathers protested that Emma certainly didn't hold the qualifications to captain a ship.
“Mama's captain of the house – the house!” their daughter squealed, trying desperately to bat away Killian's fingers as he tickled her sides, eventually settling for throwing herself out of Hook's arms and running to the other side of the kitchen, the table a staunch line of defense against any further onslaught. “I've heard her say it, so it's true,” she insisted, blue eyes glimmering with the type of conviction only a four-year old can muster.
“Well, you must be right then, lass,” Killian relented, raising his hand and hook in surrender before pulling out a chair. “Now, come, sit and eat – before the Captain has us all walk the plank. You know how grumpy your mum gets when she's hungry.”
“I do not get grumpy,” Emma growled playfully, the mock indignation in her voice doing nothing to quell the smile lines around her mouth or the soft crinkle at the corners of her eyes.
Hope jumped into the seat Killian had pulled aside for her, eyebrows raised halfway toward her hairline as she watched Hook carry over the plates filled with fresh eggs and bacon, her feet kicking the underside of the chair in a steady rhythm.
“Can we go to the park this afternoon?” she asked, two pieces of bacon already gripped tightly in her small hand before any of her parents had even noticed her snatch them from the plate. “I want to have a treasure hunt.”
“Of course we can,” Hook smiled, sitting down and watching as their daughter munched happily on her bacon, his gaze drifting to Killian as he doled out eggs and Emma as she made her own plate, stealing some bacon from the pile that had somehow doubled in size on Hope's plate.
Emma's eyes lifted, meeting his own over the table – her green gaze so filled with warmth and love that he immediately felt foolish for the fear that had overtaken him that morning, for thinking that something so simple as time could ever make them drift apart, could somehow make them less than what they were and had always been destined to be – a family.
Emma chose to ignore him, titling her chin higher to look down her nose at the next circular victim to be dropped into the fryer.
“Still angry, are we?” There was a smirk in his tone which she should have expected, and she could feel her resolve to stay ridiculously annoyed at him diminish as he pressed the cold tip of his nose behind her ear.
* * *
Read the rest here!
Confused? Read The Ripple Effect - A Captain Swan Tale here!
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