Happy Valentine's Day, normalisforthebirds! I am your CS secret valentine! I didn't think I would be able to finish writing your fic today (I just took my French exam this morning and had a busy past few weeks at uni) but a burst of inspiration allowed me to finish writing it. Hopefully there aren't any typos! :P I hope you've had a wonderful Valentine's Day. xx
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“Oh, how low I have sunk,” Emma bemoaned to her reflection in the mirror. It was 6:07pm and she was preparing for a date on Valentine’s Day. The only prior dates she’d had on this most joyous of holidays were simple hookups. What could she say, she was a romantic. Or, you know, not, she thought to herself with a little anxiety. She fumbled with her mascara brush, bringing it up to apply on her lashes. She didn’t understand her anxiety – she’d been on a handful of dates with the pirate already. Why was today any different? Perhaps it wasn’t Killian who made her nervous. Perhaps it was because it was the first date they would have as an official dating couple.
But that wasn’t it, was it? Emma frowned to herself. She didn’t really care what anyone thought about her dating choices. She examined her eyes closely, deciding that she was satisfied with how she did her makeup. She pulled out her bottle of red lip gloss and delicately painted the brush across her lips.
A knock on the door broke her focus. “Come in,” she said. Mary Margaret opened the door, walking in to share the sink with Emma.
“You look amazing, Emma,” she said to her daughter.
Emma smiled. “Thanks,” she said sincerely. “I’m close to finishing, I just need to retouch my curls.”
Mary Margaret set down her makeup bag and started to put blush on her cheeks. “It’s been a while since we’ve had to share a mirror, huh?” she asked with some amusement. Mary Margaret and David had moved into their own house several weeks before. She was getting ready at Emma’s apartment while their boys got ready at the house. Emma would give anything to know what was going on over at the house. The thought made her smile involuntarily.
XxXxX
“I hope Emma appreciates this,” Killian muttered, fumblingly adjusting his tie with his hand.
David swatted his hand away. “Stop that, you’re messing it up.” He rolled his eyes, readjusting the pirate’s black tie.
“Sorry Dave, I severely dislike anything tight around my neck,” he grumbled. Except your daughter’s hands, he thought suddenly, and chuckled to himself.
David eyed him warily and said, “I don’t want to know.” Killian grinned.
He turned back to the mirror, getting a good look at himself. He’d never worn a suit before. He’d worn basic clothes from this world before, as some of his dates with Emma had taken place outside of Storybrooke, but he’d never worn any of this ‘black tie’ stuff. He frowned. What would Emma think? Would she laugh at him? Would she find him attractive in this uncomfortable suit?
“Stop it,” David said, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves.
“What?” Killian asked defensively, eyeing him from the side.
“Emma will love the way you look,” David said knowingly. He turned to Killian and smiled. “She’s talked enough about wanting to see you in a suit. She will be delighted.”
Killian felt strangely reassured, even though he knew, logically speaking, that Emma wouldn’t care how he dressed. He supposed his biggest worry was looking silly. David was wearing a gray suit and looked dashing – he knew Mary Margaret would be very appreciative of her husband. David was a prince, however. He was supposed to dress in nice clothes. Killian was a pirate.
Well, not just a pirate. Not anymore. Would you be proud of me, Liam? He wondered. He thought perhaps he would be. He imagined seeing his brother over his shoulder, teasing his little brother about his effort to woo the princess. A wave of wistfulness went through him, wishing that his big brother were there to give him advice.
His thoughts were broken when David clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Ready, mate?” He asked Killian with a grin.
A smile broke out on his face. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
XxXxX
“They’re here!” Mary Margaret said in excitement. She smoothed down her white dress, turning to look at Emma. “How do I look?”
Emma gave a thumbs-up. “Lookin’ good, Mary Margaret. You get the door, I’ll be down in a minute – I forgot my earrings in my room.” She trotted up the stairs, quickly putting in the small diamond earrings Killian had given her on their last date. She slid on her high heels and descended down the stairs, careful to keep her hand on the railing.
“Bloody hell,” she heard, and she looked up from her feet to see Killian by the entranceway. He was staring at her as though she was the most wondrous thing in existence, and it made her heart pick up speed.
She couldn’t help but stare right back at him. He wore a very nice suit, and he looked simply striking. When she reached him she tugged on her red dress. “What, this old thing? The last time I wore this I knocked a man out on his own steering wheel. It was the night Henry found me,” she suddenly recalled, and then the dress felt suddenly important.
Killian’s hand brushed her hair from her shoulder and then moved to cup her cheek. “You look incredible, love,” he said.
She grinned at him. Her earlier anxiety seemed silly now. “You do too. Not much looks better than a handsome man in a finely tailored suit.”
“Told you,” David said suddenly from beside them. He had a hand wrapped around Mary Margaret’s shoulders. “We’re heading out. Have fun and stay safe, you two.”
As soon as they were out the door Killian’s lips were on hers. He growled, “That is called a dress? I approve.”
Emma shoved him back, still smiling. “Save it, buddy. Dinner first.” She wrapped her arms around his neck then, placing her lips beside his ear. “You know what my favorite thing about suits is? Taking them off.” She unwrapped her arms while he choked and sputtered, and grabbed her coat and purse. “Oh and also, I made some chocolate fondue for when we get back. It’s delicious to dip fruit in, but I have other ideas as well.” She tossed a smirk over her shoulder and walked out the door, leaving Killian with his jaw wide open.
