Emma couldn’t believe she was finally doing this. Finally kissing the coffee shop owner who’d been flirting with her for over a week. The man was infuriating with his winks and innuendos that have left her red-faced and avoiding eye contact on her way out the door with coffee in hand. The fact that she kept coming back day after day instead of just arresting him and putting him in a cell for his lewd comments had always been a mystery. What had been worse was that her mother loved him. Called him a damn gentleman. Her father? Went out of his way to tell her that he and Killian met up from time to time to ‘hang out’. When she’d snapped at him over hanging out with his own parents instead of hers, and he’d replied with a downcast look that he had none, it had her feeling like a complete heel and softening toward him—All while he’d chosen that moment to take a step back.
Gone had been the winks. The flirts. Hell, he’d been downright professional. Calling her Miss instead of Love or Darling… It had started driving her insane. And so, she’d waited until right up to closing time to barge into his coffee place and say an awkward apology while looking down at the toe of her boot. When he chuckled she’d looked up at him with narrowed eyes. He’d commented on how awful she was at apologizing and she retorted that she didn’t apologize often and he should be thankful he even got one. The bantering had continued, each taking a step closer—When she’d commented that she wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face, he’d said he could think of a few things she could do to accomplish that—and so she’d done something that he hadn’t expected and had left him stunned.
She’d kissed him.
He’d pulled away at first, blue eyes wide with wonder and what she could only call disbelief. She’d been ready to apologize for just grabbing him and kissing him without permission when he’d pulled her back in to kiss her again. His kisses were sinful and had her toes curling in her boots. She felt his hand in her hair, clenching her blonde locks while his tongue slid easily into her mouth to dance with hers. The move had her moaning and pressing closer, her hands clenching against the fabric of his shirt. When they had to breathe they pulled apart, panting with their foreheads pressed together.
“Emma… Love… I…”
He was out of breath and she brought a fingertip up to place over his lips to silence him before kissing him again. Her eyes closed as she got lost in the kiss, up on her toes and fearing her knees becoming weak and having her fall to the ground. He fixed that by lifting her up onto a stool near the counter she’d sat at so many times. His hands moved up and down her jean-clad thighs and suddenly Emma was a little too warm. She shrugged out of her red jacket, letting the article of clothing settle on top of the counter. His hands took that moment to travel up and down her back, just the thin material of her white shirt the barrier between him and her skin.
When the bell at the door of the shop rang they’d broke apart as quickly as possible. However the Mayor who also happened to be her mother’s step-mother… Had seen enough and had quirked a brow at the both of them. She’d calmly given her order for a coffee she needed for her paperwork that night. She’d send a wink Emma’s way once she’d gotten her order and announced she’d get out of their hair. Killian had followed her to the door and once Regina was gone he’d flipped the sign to closed and locked the door. The click of the lock had Emma pressing her thighs together and biting her lower lip as he slowly turned around.
“Give me two seconds to close, Swan… And I’m all yours.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice unrecognizable with it being laced with arousal.
Five minutes later he announced that his task of closing was “good enough” before turning to Emma. He offered his hand and an invitation to his apartment upstairs. An apartment that came with the place. He had a small cottage, on the water—but the look in his eyes said he didn’t want to wait to have her. She stared at his offered hand. She’d gone from being annoyed with him, to missing him, to now wanting him… Was it too fast? Would it be better for her to just leave? To wait?
No… It really wouldn’t be.
So she took his hand. He led her up the stairs, flipping off the lights in the process before ascending. Their boots thunked loudly against the wooden steps. The door to his place opened easily, with a slight squeak, before she closed it behind her. He soon had her pressed against the door, the older wood protested as her weight rest upon it. Her arms went around his neck while he placed two hands on her bottom and pulled her in close before kissing her again. She returned the kiss with equal fervor, wrapping a leg around his waist as he continued to press against her.
“I want you,” he murmured against her lips, his voice filled with promise.
“Then take me,” she whispered back, nipping at his bottom lip, pulling what sounded like a growl from his lips before his kisses turned harsher. His mouth slanted over hers, tongue deviling inside her mouth while his hands gripped the hem of her shirt. He got rid of her top and the both of them disposed of their boots and socks. He guided her to the full bed in the corner of the apartment that was an open floor plan and had no privacy save for the small bathroom. The lights were off but the moon shined inside, illuminating the room enough so that they didn’t trip. Soon, she was on her back and he was tugging at his clothes while she shimmied out of her jeans.
“Been wanting to do this with you since the moment I saw you, Swan.”
“Oh yeah?” she asked as he settled between her legs.
“The way that little tongue of yours licks whipped cream from your lips is absolutely sinful,” he drawled.
“Imagine it licking other things,” she said with a quirked brow, making him groan again as he kissed her. She brought her arms around his form, hands settling at his back and running up and down it. He was fully naked but she still had her bra and panties on. She felt his length against her and her body shivered in anticipation while he transferred his kisses from her lips to her neck. His hand went under her to where her bra clasped and she practically whimpered when he loosened her bra then immediately slid his hand under her bra to cup a breast.
“You feel amazing,” he said, lips still loving on her neck.
“So do you,” she said, shifting to be rid of her bra. He pulled away slightly to look down at her and she watched as his eyes went from a bright blue to almost black with desire. She felt a clench deep within her belly as the area between her legs grew wet enough to dampen her panties.
“I need to be inside you, Love,” he whispered, thumbs hooking into her panties.
“I need you inside me,” she countered as her panties traveled down her legs. She kicked them off and pulled him down on top of her, legs wrapping around him. She felt the head of his penis against her slick opening and she kissed him again, the feel of his skin against hers absolutely electrifying.
“So hairy,” she murmured, hands traveling over his chest. “I like it.”
“I’m manly enough for you?” he asked with a wink.
“Quite,” she replied with a grin while reaching down to grasp his cock.
“Bloody hell, Swan,” he cursed with an uncontrollable thrust into her hand. “Going to embarrass myself like a bloody school boy.”
She giggled. Giggled! Emma Swan had never giggled before in her life! What was it about this man that had her suddenly feeling so light and carefree? She shook her head, not wanting to think about that in this moment, and guided him to her entrance.
“Please,” she whispered, the head of his cock sliding against her wet folds.”Need you inside me now.”
“So many things I want to do to your body, Swan---but forgive me, for I cannot wait to be inside you any longer...” Slowly he slid into her. Both of them moaned at the feel of him inside her, stretching her walls in the most delicious way. She gripped the sheets tightly with one hand while the other settled at his back which was starting to damped with sweat. “So perfect... Bloody hell...”
“Killian...” She pressed her lips to his, thighs shaking at the feel of him inside her. “Please move...”
“So many things I want to do to you, Swan,” he said, repeating his previous statement while starting to move. “I want to taste every inch of you. Want my mouth between these delicious legs of yours.” That comment had her gasping, arching her back, her breasts bouncing as he thrust inside her. “Your tits are marvelous.”
He bent slightly and pressed his mouth to an already hardening nipple, suckling the flesh slightly before blowing cool air on it. He hummed his approval as her nipple hardened even more, cupping her breast with one of his hands while his other remained settled against the mattress for leverage. Not many words were said after that. He fucked her, the sound of the creaking mattress blending in with their harsh breaths. When he snuck his hand from her breast to her clit she saw stars, literal stars, as she came with the feel of his cock inside her and his ringed fingers circling her sensitive flesh. The look of her coming, her flushed cheeks, and the little sound she made at the back of her throat was his undoing. He burrowed his face into the side of her neck and his hip movements became more erratic. Soon he was praising her name, as if she were some goddess, and she kept her arms and legs wrapped around him until he settled on top of her with a long, satisfied sigh.
“Wow,” she whispered as he pulled out of her then settled at her side.
“Wow indeed,” he said, arm pillowing his head as he stared at her. She rolled onto her stomach and smiled down at him, blonde curls framing her face as she reached up a hand to allow her fingertips to play through the tufts of chest hair and along the muscled planes of his torso. “Stay the night?”
She bit her bottom lip in contemplation. “Maybe...”
“Would a bribe of free coffee in the morning tempt you even more?” he offered, and she stared into his eyes to fall into the familiar banter but hesitated. Beneath that mask of his she saw his hope. His desire for her to stay. So, she just nodded, then settled against him. It was almost too easy for him to wrap his arms around her.. Too natural for her to settled her head on his chest. For once, she ordered herself to relax. To bask in the moment. Within moment, they were both asleep, the comfort of being in each others arms enough to keep any form of doubt or wariness at bay.
END
note: sorry this took so long @supertallscandinaviangiant
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Summary:
Emma Swan started today like any other. She heroically took out the cat poop during a rainstorm, might have missed the dumpster, and might have peed herself, if only a little. But what she never saw coming her way, was Regina Mills. Unfortunately for Emma Swan, Miss Mills was Unfortunately Famous.
Teaser:
Regina showed up an hour later with Emma’s favorite ice cream and a cactus.Emma answered the door in running shorts and a tank top. Her gaze finally landing on the brown orbs that haunted her dreams.
“This is for you… the place I grabbed the ice cream from didn’t have flowers...it’s a succulent actually. Hard to kill, and this one should be safe for Ginger, and no pointy things….”
Emma took the plant and moved it to the top of her fridge, “Well this cute plant can go up here so Ging won’t chew on her. Thank you Regina, you really didn’t have to do that.” when she turned around a bucket of ice cream was shoved into her arms and Emma smiled and put it away.
Before she could turn back to her guest again there was a loud meow from the floor and Regina’s eyes fell to the fluffball.
“Hey kid.” She squatted down and gave the baby all the scratches in the best places.
“Did you miss me? Is your mommy being good to you?” Her voice had changed to talk to the cat, but Emma’s heart warmed and was reminded of exactly why she had been falling in love with this woman.
The look of guilt on Henry’s face was enough to diffuse Emma, who felt her face flaming in embarrassment and discomfort. The kid was shifting from foot to foot and it took everything in her to not run to her son and comfort him with a hug. Emma had a feeling that would only make things worse.
Henry had been upset with Killian. Killian had complained about them not spending enough time together… What with one crisis after another. Honestly, they hadn’t done much of anything since coming back from hell—and they lived together! At times Emma had been ready to just lock the door and let everyone fend for themselves for an hour or too. As had Killian. Henry had overheard her pleading Killian to just give her a little more time to figure things out. Killian had relented, but not before Henry had used his powers to write down a new page in the book. Henry had wanted Killian to feel what it would be like to live a day in her shoes… Well, the book had taken him a little too seriously. The next thing Emma knew, she’d gone from chatting with her parents at the diner… To standing at the helm of the docked Jolly Roger.
In the body of her boyfriend.
“It’s okay, Henry,” she said, wincing slightly at the deep sound of Killian’s voice as she spoke. It was weird, hearing his voice without the accent.
“Aye, Henry,” said Killian, in her voice, with the accent. Emma, once more, felt discomfort. “Though, perhaps you could… Write us back in our own bodies?”
“I tried. It wouldn’t work. But… I think it’ll wear off by tomorrow.”
“You think?” asked Killian, voice a little more… Shrill. Did she sound shrill like that when she was upset? Oh God… She sure as hell hoped not! “Lad… We need this fixed now.”
“I’ll call my mom. See what she-”
“NO!” said Emma and Hook at the same time, before clearing their throats.
“I mean… Let’s not bother Regina. You said it’ll be over in a day, so… Let’s give it a day!”
“Agreed,” said Killian, still flustered. And was it her imagination or were the lights flickering? Oh, crap. Her powers!
“Henry, how about you go get us some dinner for tonight, hm?”
“O-Okay… Cheeseburgers?” he asked.
“Sure. Just tell Granny to put it on my tab.” Emma then pointed between herself and Killian. “And lets keep this between the three of us, okay?”
“Y-Yeah. Okay.”
Henry left and Emma walked to Killian… Who looked a little stressed. Well, maybe a lot stressed. Two hands were wringing together, knuckles turning white as he paced back and forth, clearly agitated. She reached out with her borrowed hand and soon both of their hands were clasped together.
“Breathe, Killian… It’s okay…”
“It’s bloody not-” A light bulb flared, then popped. “…bloody hell. Did I do that?”
“Yes. Just breathe. Okay? I’m here. I know this sucks, but…”
“Just give me a moment,” he said, eyes closing. She allowed herself to reach and run a hand up and down his back. Her back? Either way, her borrowed hand ran up and down the familiar leather of her red jacket. It was soothing her, in a way, as well. Killian soon stepped forward and they hugged each other.
“This is so weird,” she said, her face being tickled by HER hair.
“Aye, it is…” He reached up and she felt a soft touch at her cheek. “And yet… Not as weird as it should feel. At least not for me.”
“Oh?”
“Because it’s you,” he said. Their eyes met and before everything, she’d have looked away. But now? She kept their eyes locked and smiled. She knew he was up to something when she saw a familiar glint she’d seen a hundred times in her pirates eyes. “Since the lad is gone...” Slender hands moved up the flat planes of a built chest. “Perhaps we could-”
“What?” She took a step back. “No way!”
“C’mon, Swan, it’ll be an adventure!”
“Keep your adventure in your pants,” she ordered.
He sighed. “Fine.”
After a while the two of them got comfortable on the couch. Both had kicked off their boots and socks. Emma had placed Killians’ heavy rings on the side table and with Killians’ help left the hook there as well so she didn’t accidentally rip a hole into something. They’d just started up Netflix when a plume of purple smoke appeared in front of them. Regina was soon there, hands on her hips and looking mad... Henry beside her with the food looked apologetic.
“Uh... Sorry. She insisted on coming over.”
“Henry is upset. And when he is upset... I’m upset.” Regina looked to who she thought was Killian. “What did you do to my son?”
“Wha-I didn’t do anything!” said Emma.
“Oh, please,” said Regina with an eye-roll.
“Regina,” said Killian. “Perhaps we can speak of this-”
“Why are you talking like that?” asked Regina, pointing between the two of them. “What is going on here?”
Killian and Emma sighed, shared a look, and then explained what had happened. Slowly, Regina’s look of anger transformed into amusement and mirth. Her brown eyes sparkled in laughter as her grin grew and grew.
“It isn’t funny, Regina!” shouted Emma.
“Oh, it is.”
“Can you fix us or not?” asked Killian.
“No,” said Regina. “I think Henry is right... After a day has passed you’ll be back in your old bodies.” Regina wrapped an arm around Henry’s shoulders. “Perhaps he should stay with me tonight?”
“Good idea,” said Killian. “I’m already feeling awkward around the lad. And Emma’s magic... I’m not used to it. Don’t want to accidentally turn the boy into a frog. Or even worse... A crocodile!”
Henry paled slightly at the thought. “Yeah, I’m staying with you tonight, Mom.”
“Good idea,” said Regina, and with a flick of her wrist, the two of them were gone.
“Bloody hell...” Hook grabbed the bags of food. “You DO know she’ll tell your parents, right?”
“Yeah, who will tell the dwarves who will tell-”
“-everyone,” finished Killian with a sigh, grabbing plates.
“Well, it could be worse...” Emma grinned. “You could have switched bodies with someone else. Like Regina. Ohhh... My mother!”
“That is true,” said Killian, taking advantage of having two hands and prepping their food. Soon, they were back on the sofa, happily eating and watching an episode of their current favorite show. When it grew dark and late they retired for the night. They thankfully didn’t have to be too shy around each other. Killian blushed and Emma saw her face turn red as he helped her unbutton the shirt and undo the pants she was wearing. Emma slipped on a pair of pajama pants she’d bought him and he’d never worn before going to the bathroom to wash off the eyeliner. When she returned she rolled her eyes because Killian had chosen the skimpiest nightgown she owned to wear to bed.
“Really?”
“What?” he asked with a slight swish of his borrowed hips. “It’s quite comfortable, Swan.”
“You’re impossible.”
“And you love it,” he countered.
“That I do,” she said, pulling back the covers. “That I do.”
Thankfully, by morning, they’d woken up in their own bodies. They’d set about their morning routine. They had pancakes for breakfast, Emma dressed to go to work, and the morning quickly transitioned to the afternoon. When she went to go get lunch, Killian met her halfway with a shake of his head.
“Bloody hell, Swan, everyone knows and they’re asking... Things!”
“Things?” she inquired.
“Grumpy asked me how the sex was while having lady parts,” he said, far from amused. “I about ripped out his tongue for asking that.”
“Oh God,” said Emma, hiding her head in her hands.
“Your parents were there.”
“OH FOR FU---Are you kidding me?!”
“No.”
“Damn it...” Emma sighed. “I’m grounding Henry, now.”
Killian laughed and pulled her into a hug of which she returned. “No you’re not.”
“I’m not,” she said. “It’s not his fault the dwarves are perverts.”
Killian chuckled and he ran his hand up and down her back. The same thing she’d done for him yesterday, and she found herself relaxing.
“How about we go home and have our lunch there? I do believe we have enough items to assemble a decent sandwich,” said Killian.
“Sounds like a plan.” Emma took his hand and walked with him, a smile spreading on his face. “Then, maybe later, I’ll wear that nightgown you like so much.”
“Bloody hell,” he whispered, walking just a bit faster, and she laughed while keeping up with the suddenly rushed pirate.
The Last Thing She Ever Wrote As she looked down into the depths of her soul she knew this would be it. The end to a long line.
The words were fleeting out of lips that could no longer speak,
no longer taste the world in all of its colors.
The pen danced along the page, running out of ink.
Thoughts dove this way and that, with great agility, trying to free themselves. Sight didn’t exist, it didn’t need to, there was only the page.
One page, with words.
Who knew if anyone would ever be able to read, or grasp what she meant.
She knew the sun was setting, her time was running out.
Soon there would be no more light, to feel the line of her pen to the paper. The words would soon become hieroglyphs and the world would dim and slip into night.
As the sun went out, she released a breath. It was the last thing she ever wrote…
Wrote the original as a spoken word poem on Deviantart in 2016 (Kellyp4evermi). Was inspired today by McDumbles companion piece to her story Letting Go to finish my concept.
Enjoy the crushing of your feels ;) and i am looking for a Beta!
“It’s ok Papa, you don’t have to worry. We can trust her, she’s just like me,” She says holding his hand. “She can hear the stars. She’s just like me.” she repeats, a look of wonder on her face, pure belief in what she’s saying. Killian looks down at her. His little girl, his Starfish, and isn’t sure. He still isn’t sure if rescuing Emma Swan is the best thing he’s ever done, or their undoing.
A/N: Happy Finale day! Like all good things, it must come to an end. I'm so thankful to all the wonderful moments I've had because of this show. It's gotten me through some really tough times. I fully intend on staying in the fandom and finishing all my WIPs.
I intended this to be 5 shot, but who knows anymore. Also, I strongly believe in the 'don't like don't read' philosophy, all future asks telling me who MY Killian is or isn't will be deleted.
Ao3 FFn
He doesn’t speak to Emma until the next morning.
He wasn’t avoiding her; not really, she mostly slept that next day, drinking mugs of tea, taking the max doses of the pain killers he kept, curled in a blanket by the fire. He really wasn’t avoiding her.
He rises just as earlier than the previous day, ready to have his time by the beach with his coffee. He expects Emma to still be asleep; Killian doesn’t plan on waking her. It’s easier to avoid questions and confrontation.
(He isn’t avoiding her)
As he leaves his room, Killian closes the door slowly and sees Emma struggling a ways away from the couch. She has her hands on the wall and her bad leg is bleeding through the bandage and her skin has a sheen of sweat across it.
“Bloody hell.” He curses. “What are you doing?” He demands.
“And a good morning to you.” Emma says stopping and looking over at him, obviously out of breath and in pain yet still managing to be sarcastic. She looks rather annoyed at him. He goes to her side, beckoning her to let him help.
He really doesn’t want to get punched again.
“You’re never going to get better if you don’t rest love.” He reminds her. He doesn’t think telling her this will help; she seems like a stubborn one.
“Bathroom.” She mutters, pointing to the open door. “There is no way I wasn’t going to make it there, bad leg or not.”
His cheeks flush with embarrassment. He should have thought of that and gotten up earlier, or offered her some help before bed or something.
“You are one tough lass aren’t you?” He asks with a smirk, getting her back to the couch. “I bet you are never one to ask for help.” He observes.
“I don’t like depending on people.” She admitted dryly. “You can’t always expect them to be there for you.” Killian nods in agreement. He knows that way of thinking, he shares it himself. Liam used to hate it.
“I assume your home life wasn’t easy.” He points out.
“You could say that.” She says casually, gasping in relief when she sits. Killian goes about trying to change the bandage on her leg. He can tell by her demeanor, the way her eyes drop, avoiding his gaze. It’s a familiar expression. She looks lonely. “Orphan I assume?”
Green eyes rise to meet his. They tell him he’s right. They also tell him he’s struck a nerve. “You have that look.” He says in explanation.
“So do you.” She says coldly, pulling her leg from his reach. “And stop whatever this is.” She demands.
“Stop what? I meant no disrespect love.” He says, trying to appease her, he’s said too much, pushed too hard. He never intended to make her uncomfortable. Emma’s eyes narrow dangerously, like a snake ready to strike.
“You’re trying to read me, bond with me.” She says, disregarding the apology. “Two can play the psychology game Jones. I can read you just as easily as you think you can read me. Waking up early aren’t you? The sun isn’t even up.” She notes, an attack at the ready, he can feel it.
“I like to get some things done before Alice wakes up.” He responds, trying to fend her off. Killian looks upstairs, hoping they’re not waking her up. “But you really need a new wrap on your leg or it’ll get infected.”
She shakes her head. “You’re lying.” Emma states. She lets him back within reach of her wound.
He rolls his eyes, glaring at the wound rather than look at her. He’s practically done. “Why would I lie?” He asks. “Especially about something as silly as my sleeping habits,” He says with a chuckle.
It’s silly really.
“I have this thing about lies.” Emma says, pausing for him to look at her. He does, he can’t help it. “I can see them a mile away.” He swears he’s not even breathing. “I bet you go on a little patrol around this place in the morning, rather than sleeping, sometimes at night too. You’re making sure whatever you’re running from doesn’t sneak up on you.” He glances at her. “I bet you have nightmares about it finding you. It’s made you paranoid of everyone and everything.”
He pulls his hand away when he’s done. He gets up and turns sharply away from her. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” He snaps. She doesn’t know him; she doesn’t get to know what he’s thinking or why he does what he does. It makes him angry to think about.
She has no clue what he’s been through, what Alice-
He stops right there.
“Trust me when I say I know what it feels like to run.” She says after a moment, the fight in her voice fading. Her voice is small and gentle. She’s trying appease him. “The feeling of never being far enough, because when you turn around your problem is still right there, waiting for you and you’re completely caught off guard.”
It does the opposite. It’s like he suddenly feels her, feels her right there, outside the room, outside the door, her chilling voice in the back of his head telling him-
“And apparently you’re not very good at it.” He snaps angrily. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have ended up half dead on my beach.” He can see it’s taken her by surprise, but he doesn’t care.
He wants to get out; he wants to stop feeling her gaze on the back of his head, he wants her voice out of his head for one bloody second.
“I’m taking a walk, stay on the couch and I mean it.” He insists, edging towards the door. He doesn’t care if she does as he asks; all he cares about is not being followed.
“Killian-“ Emma tries.
He doesn’t mean to slam the door.
He still feels Emma’s gaze, up until he leaves the lighthouse.
His mind is racing as his body works on autopilot. He’s storming through the undergrowth, taking his daily walk around the perimeter far quicker than usual. It’s supposed to relax him yet now he’s using it to blow off steam to try to wrangle in his thoughts.
He can barely see the traps and tricks he laid out years ago, noise makers and trip wires, but he checks them just the same. Just like Emma predicted, just like she called him out as.
He wasn’t paranoid. He insists to himself. The track he’s worn into the forest floor says otherwise. He’s just careful; he’s just making sure they’re never found. But he can feel his hands shake at the thought of being found.
Killian doesn’t calm like he usually does at the end of his walk. He doesn’t calm when he gets to the beach, staring at the horizon, watching the sun rise. He gazes at the water, expecting the waves to ease his troubled soul. It almost makes it worse. It feels like it’s a ticking clock, because how long can they go like this? Supplies were starting to run low, he hadn’t heard from Liam in months…
He’d found Emma there, it made him wonder what else lay on the other side of the horizon. It made him wonder if she was just a bad omen of things to come. Perhaps she was sent to find them, too hurt to check back in, she was lying about…well if Emma told him anything of actual substance he could think she was lying. But he knew nothing about Emma Swan, his attempt to gather some sense of her had ended…poorly.
Emma had hit the nail on the head with her words. It unnerves him more than he’d like to admit.
He remembers the last woman who claimed to know him on their first meeting. He remembers pretty young Eloise, talking about his paintings like she knew him, like she saw him. He remembers Eloise talking and talking about never being understood. She claimed he understood her like no one else did. He believed her.
How wrong he was.
Killian has to stop thinking about her. He knows he’ll never be able to calm down if he does. He’ll be lost in the woods all day long if he keeps trying to look back at that time in his life. Killian needs to get a grip. He needs to focus on the only blonde who really matters. The one that would come up with a new game by the time he got back, a new adventure to go on, a new place to explore.
It helps steady his nerves a bit. Killian just hopes he can calm down before he gets back home, he’ll need his wits about him for another conversation with the mysterious Emma, and to protect Alice from her all seeing eyes.
When he returned home, Alice was surprisingly awake, sitting on the couch besides Emma, showing Emma her new book.
New being relative of course, it was several months old and Alice had already read it at least a hundred times. Nevertheless she seemed to have manipulated Emma into reading it to her.
(Alice was a true pirate when it came to stories.)
Emma was sitting up against the couch, Alice, still in her pajams, practically squeezed in next to her. It was a peaceful scene. In the back of Killian’s mind he wondered if it was too peaceful, if he should be concerned with a stranger being so close to his daughter.
(He wonders why his gut feeling is to trust her, why he feels that Emma wasn’t a threat to Alice)
“And he said ‘There’s only one rule,” Emma reads aloud, “Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing…” she says trailing off as she spots him enter. He tries his best to ignore her, the way her eyes go wide an unspoken apology hanging in the air.
(He fails)
“You’re up early Starfish.” He notes. Alice shrugs, climbing off of the couch.
“Couldn’t sleep, I had a dream that I couldn’t remember.” She tells him. “I also promised Emma she could look at my story book.” She says looking at the older blonde. “I just had to show her the amazingness of Princess Anna with Captain Hook.” Alice insists. “They’re True Love.” She says with certainty. Killian smiles at her, messing with his daughter’s hair much to Alice’s dismay.
“Papa.” She complains. “It’s true.” She insists.
“I know love, they’re your favorite.” He agrees.
“It’s a very interesting take on fairy tales.” Emma points out.
Alice rolls her eyes. “It’s so much better than regular fairy tales, Anna isn’t some damsel in distress, she’s on her own mission to save her son and she doesn’t need a prince to save her, can save herself.” She points out proudly. “We were just getting to the good part.” Alice informs him. “They were about to dance and then try to find Snow White and Prince Charming and…”He nods, knowing they could spend the entire day hearing Alice talk about this book.
“They can wait until breakfast.” He promises. Alice sighs in annoyance.
“But Papa-“ She starts.
“Alice.” He warns. It’s all it takes; normally he doesn’t even have to say it at all. Alice sighs dramatically, getting up and stomping upstairs to get changed.
“Killian.” Emma starts.
“I think I owe you another dose of the pain meds.” He says interrupting her.
“I’m fine, I just need to-“
“It’s not fine; I can get it for you from my room.” He assures her as he slowly making his way towards the door to his room.
“Killian.” He says more forcefully, half getting up from the couch.
“Swan.” He says back in the same stern voice he used moments ago with Alice. It stops her in her tracks. “I’m going to get your meds.” Killian says slowly.
She doesn’t say or do anything as he backs out of the room, into his own. He closes his door as quick as he can.
It’s not a lie that she does need another dose of pain meds, it’s also not a lie that they’re in his bedroom.
But he can admit that he ran in here with the intention of avoiding talking to Emma Swan. She has him bloody terrified.
//
Emma seems to have gotten the hint. She doesn’t say a single word towards him as he makes them some oatmeal. She seems to have picked up one of the novels he has lying around and seems perfectly content reading through it.
(But he can still tell she was watching him)
Alice returns downstairs dressed and with a pile of books in her arms. She has that look on her face, the look that says she has plans.
“What do you have there, Starfish?” He asks with a smirk. Alice looks right at him, small innocent smile on her face.
“Nothing Papa just thought Emma would get bored sitting on the couch all day.” She says rather innocently. “I thought she’d like something more fun.”
“Mhm.” He does not at all believe that innocent look on her face.
She wondered over to Emma, Emma closed her book and looked right at her. Killian watched Alice offer her pile of things to Emma. Emma shot a curious look in his direction, but proceeded to let Alice show her a number of books and drawings.
Killian had to admit, Emma was being a good sport. He could hear her ask questions and truly listen to his daughter. The only break Emma got was for breakfast.
After breakfast, Alice tried to go back to getting Emma to read more of her book, but Killian quickly reminded Alice of her daily chores. She didn’t argue with him.
“I’m sorry about this morning.” Emma says the moment Alice is out of earshot, while he’s cleaning up the dishes. “I didn’t realize I would hit a nerve.”
One nerve? Try a hundred.
“Now who’s the liar? I believe that was exactly what you were trying to accomplish.” He responds dryly. Killian’s not trying to pick a fight; he just wants to finish his own chores as quickly as possible.
“I didn’t realize how sensitive it was.” She amends.
“I wouldn’t just drag my daughter out to the middle of nowhere for no reason Emma.” He states. “So am I scared of the reason we came out here, yes I am.” He asserts. “You would be too if you knew.” He adds in a low voice. He didn’t mean to say that last part.
“Will you tell me?” Emma asks.
“Will you tell me who shot you?” Killian counters. Emma is silent. He takes a calming breath. “if it means anything, I didn’t mean to hit a nerve either, love.”
“Then what were you trying to do?” Emma asks. She doesn’t sound defensive persay, but when Killian looks at her, she looks guarded. He shrugs.
“I was just trying to get to know the woman I saved from drowning on a beach with a gun shot in her leg.” He explains
“And why is that?” She asks. “Last night you made it clear to me all you see me as is a liability.” It makes him look up at her. He can see her over the counter from the kitchen, meet her eyes even. “You don’t get to know the liability.” She says. “And don’t try to lie to me.”
Killian looks at the dark wooded ceiling “I don’t exactly know.” He admits after a moment. “Perhaps it’s because I haven’t spoken to anyone over the age of six in a good while.” It’s true of course, perhaps not the whole truth, perhaps he just wants to understand why he feels completely at ease at her presence, why he doesn’t bristle at the thought of leaving Alice around her, why he doesn’t feel like she’s intruding on their lives, why Alice seems to like her out of instinct. “Perhaps I’m just as curious as Alice.” He says with a smirk.
“I’m not really someone you want to know, either of you.” Emma admits, breaking eye contact. He sees a look flash over her face. Fear, self-loathing, guilt. He knows that look all too well and he doesn’t like it on Emma, not one bit.
“Let me be the judge of that.” He states. “Alice likes you, and she’s a remarkably good judge of character for her age.”
Emma smiles; he likes that look on her far better.
Alice is in better spirits when she’s done with her chores, chores that mostly involve carrying for the small clan of rabbits she’s adopted and named. She comes in jumping up and down, intending on telling both of them all about what the bunnies are up to today.
It’s all about Mopsy and Peter and their adventures bothering Mr. Rabbit. He gives props to Emma as she takes it all with a grin and listens intently. Emma even asks the right questions at the right time. It makes Alice beam.
Killian expects her to go on and on about them with a new set of ears, or return to the topic of her books when something suddenly occurs to Alice, he can practically see the gears in her head turn.
“Will you play chess with me?” She suddenly asks Emma.
It takes Emma obviously by surprise.
“I would, but I don’t really know how…I’ve always been more of a checkers kind of girl” She says trailing off. Emma’s obviously looking for an escape. “I don’t think playing me would be as fun as playing your dad. I bet he’s quite the challenge.” Emma looks to him a little clueless as to what to do.
Unfortunately stories weren’t the only thing Alice was a little pirate about.
Alice brightens. “Don’t worry, I can show you.” She insists. “Papa showed me, and don’t worry, I’m not that good.” She assures Emma, “I barely know what all the pieces do.” running upstairs where the old chess set was stashed.
“Really? Chess?” Emma asks. “Isn’t she a little young?” Emma asks. Killian shrugs.
“She liked the look of the pieces and she was a quick study.” He says. Plus, there’s not a lot to do on rainy days. It was either teach her chess or sing Rain, Rain, Go Away until they were blue in the face.
“I don’t mean for chess, I mean to try to hustle me.” She says, staring at him with a knowing look.
“So you caught that did you?” He asks, he can’t help but grin. “I told her to only do that to Liam, her uncle.” He explains to Emma. “Liam always falls for it.”
“I’m back.” Alice says, placing their travel board on the table, pushing it near Emma. “Can I show you what all the pieces do?” She asks.
“I’d like that.” Emma agrees. “What does the castle do?” She asks, pointing at the black rook piece.
“It’s a rook.” Alice insists as if it was obvious. “Strong and steady, biding its time to take on the world,” She recites demonstrating its movements on the board for Emma. Then she turns to the white knight. “The knight is loyal and brave, valiantly able to get right past the opponents defenses, it’s tricky like that.” She continues, also demonstrating its movements as well.
Alice loves the stories he’d tell about the pieces. Sometimes their games would develop their own stories and characters from Alice’s imagination. It was also typical Alice to start with her favorite pieces; the ones she thinks are most like the two of them. On opposite sides because they were different from each other, but both part of the same game, part of the same family.
Emma seemed to pick up on her attachment to those pieces. “Who can I be?” She asks glancing up at him.
Alice seems to think about it long and hard. She picks up the black pawn. “Even the littlest of pieces are special. Even the supposedly weakest piece can be helpful to bring down the king, and they can even become a Queen if they are patient, if they believe.” She assures her.
Emma’s expression is unreadable.
The day fell to night quicker than Killian expected, between a few slow paced games of chess, Killian getting his daughter to sit still long enough to practice math, making lunch, giving Emma her pain meds, changing her bandages, taking Alice out swimming, getting her back before nightfall.
With such a busy day, Killian isn’t surprised when he’s able to get Alice to bed with relative ease. All it took was to promise Emma would still be there in the morning to read the next part of the book with her.
Killian is coming down the steps, back to the living room when he hears Emma’s voice break through his thoughts.
“What happened to Alice’s mother?” Emma asks in a quiet and gentle voice. It stops him in his tracks, makes his heart drop to his stomach. “Sorry.” Emma says cringing at him. “I really don’t want to hit another nerve, but I’m curious.” She admits. “Alice is so…and you don’t have the look of a widowed father.”
He can’t even begin to figure out where to begin with that story, even if he wanted to. “She…” He trails off. He’s trying, but the words don’t come.
“Sorry, look forget it.” Emma says quickly, waving her hands around. “I can tell I overstepped. I’m sorry, forget I even asked.”
She did, but Killian also wanted to give Emma something, just enough. He doesn’t want to lie to her, but the truth…it was too much as well.
“I would never call the woman who gave birth to Alice a mother.” He eventually says as emotionlessly as possible. “She didn’t stick around long enough to even give her a name.” Emma’s eyes widened.
“I’m so sorry.” Emma says. “That must have been rough, raising a child all alone.”
Killian nods. “It was challenging.” He agrees. “But Alice was the best thing to ever happen to me, she saved me, loving her was the best thing I’ve ever done.”
Emma smiles at him. “You’ve done well, it’s her loss.” Emma agrees.
Killian smiles, despite the mound of guilt settling in his chest, he was telling Emma the truth, just not the whole truth.
He didn’t tell her of what happened when Eloise came back.
“It’s ok Papa, you don’t have to worry. We can trust her, she’s just like me,” She says holding his hand. “She can hear the stars. She’s just like me.” she repeats, a look of wonder on her face, pure belief in what she’s saying. Killian looks down at her. His little girl, his Starfish, and isn’t sure. He still isn’t sure if rescuing Emma Swan is the best thing he’s ever done, or their undoing.
A/N: So this is really, really late, but Happy very late Valentines Day @hollyethecurious, I'm sorry for disappearing, and that this is a little different from what it started as, but I'm really terrible at deadlines, and one shots. I honestly don't know how many parts this will end up being. I hope you like it!
Thank you @notoriouscs for beta reading!
FFn Ao3
He usually spends his mornings by the beach. It’s his time to think every morning, his time to just relax for a few moments before Alice wakes up. He enjoys seeing the sun rise with his mug of coffee in his hands. Despite living in the middle of nowhere, they always seem to find interesting things to do to occupy his precocious daughter.
There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the water looks perfect. It’s going to be a perfect day.
Perhaps he should take Alice swimming today. Killian wonders, taking a sip of his drink. He knows he has to get Alice up soon to start the day, he has some leftover bread from last night, toast and tea sounds like a nice breakfast, they could make something more substantial for lunch.
Killian’s in the midst of his thoughts when suddenly he notices something. It’s a dark shape washed up on the edge of the beach. Slowly, he puts down his mug and makes his way closer.
It’s a body. Cold dread fills his veins.
Did they find them? Is she here? Are they here? It’s just like her to leave something like a body to send him on edge. When Killian is close enough, he realizes it’s a woman washed up on his beach.
Her skin is pale and she’s half frozen. There’s an ugly gash on her head matter by mangled blonde hair. She’s also bleeding from a wound to her leg.
For a moment Killian thinks she’s already dead, but then she takes a shallow breath and Killian feels a weak pulse.
She’s alive. He realizes, but she won’t be for much longer if she doesn’t get help, and there’s no one else here, no one here for miles except him.
It makes him hesitate.
She’ll tell them where he is. She’s probably working for them. He thinks; it would be safer if he just left her there. It would be safer for Alice.
But then Killian looked at her, really looked. Her hair was mangled and her face was far too pale, but she looked stunning none the less. There was something about her that seemed familiar to him, special.
Killian doesn’t think twice before getting down on his knees, trying to judge her breathing. It’s weak, very weak. He sighs before starting compressions, then pressing his lips to hers, attempting to breathe air into her lungs.
It’s been years since he learned CPR, so he hopes he remembers what Liam taught him.
He continues switching from compressions to breaths until he she starts to cough up sea water.
“There we go love.” He urges helping her turn over to cough it up. “Just breathe.” He urges. She still feels cold in his arms, but she’s not shaking which is a bad sign. Shaking means she feels the cold, no shaking means she’s already numb.
Once it seems like she’s done and taking large gasps, he lowers her back to the sand. Her eyes are open, just barely, he sees green peak out as she blinks at him. She murmurs something, but Killian can’t quite make it out.
Reaching down, Killian scoops the woman into his arms. Her eyes close. “Come on lass, let’s get you inside and warmed up.”
Apparently his perfect day is about to get complicated.
//
He brings the woman back as quickly as he could.
He was thankful she didn’t wake during the short journey home. He was glad she didn’t regain consciousness had he carried her awkwardly; Killian was struggling between a princesses carry and lugging her over his shoulder towards home.
Home was an abandoned lighthouse in the middle of nowhere. It was run down and vacant when he found it, but with a few personal touches, he’d managed to make it a home.
There was a modest living room with a fire place and a beat up old couch, a tiny kitchen with a table and a barely working gas stove. He’d taken residency in a storage room, just enough room to store a couple of his things and a bed. Alice’s room was the only interesting thing about the place in his opinion.
What used to be an attic had been transformed a princess tower. Drawings covering the walls, flowers at various stages of life hanging all around, books littered the place. It was perfect for her. It even had a large window with a perfect view of the sea.
It might not be much but it was theirs, and now here he is bringing in an intruder to their lonely tower.
Unfortunately, while the woman didn’t wake, Alice did. The second he came through the door, he hears a pair of feet race down the stairs.
“Morning Papa!” She exclaims jumping onto the last step, a book in her hand. He can see an idea racing through her head already. “Can we-“ She stops. He sees her make eye contact with the woman as he sets her down on the couch.
“Who’s she?” She asks, her eyes narrowing in her direction, then they widen. “Papa, is she..?” She asks trailing off, clutching the book to her chest with a fearful look. Killian shakes his head.
“No Starfish, she’s alive, barely but alive.” He insists, sitting beside the woman trying to wrap her up in the blanket lying on the sofa. It was doing little to bring the color back to her cheeks. He knows he needs to get her into something warm and dry very soon.
“But she’s blue!” Alice insists, venturing closer.
“She needs our help.” He tells her. “Can you be a big girl for me and help me warm her up?” He asks, he half needs her help and half wants her out of here in case they can’t save this woman, in case she does freeze to death or the cold had already done the damage to the woman’s brain or other horrific things he does not want Alice exposed to.
“I need you to go get some fire wood.” He instructs. “As many as you can carry. We’re going to have a big fire in the fireplace and warm her up.” He explains. Alice’s eyes dart back towards him and she nods. His daughter rushes out to do as she’s told.
In the meantime Killian sets to get the woman out of some of her soaking wet layers. He pulls a red leather jacket from her shoulders with relative ease, the buttoned down is a little more difficult. It takes more maneuvering stiff limbs to get the ruined material off her body. Killian considers leaving the undershirt how it is but decides it’s more important to save her life than worry about her embarrassment. Killian finds one of his old band t-shirts to replace it.
He goes to the kitchen to grab the first aid kit, knowing that the last thing a half drowned hypothermia victim needs is an infection. He makes short work of the gash on her forehead, cleaning and bandaging it with ease.
Then he has to deal with the jeans and the blood. He tries to pull the jeans down to see the injury, but the fabric sticks to her skin. With a sigh, Killian resolves to just get rid of the stained and ruined jeans. The moment that they’re gone, Killian sets to work disinfecting and bandaging the wound. It’s clear right away that the wound is deep and won’t stop bleeding. He also realizes that it’s no ordinary injury, it’s a bullet wound, gone through and through.
Bullet wounds mean bad news.
Killian tries to ignore that implication, focusing instead on the fact that it needs stitches or it’ll never stop bleeding, it’s been a while since he’s given anyone stitches.
He wonders if he should be concerned that she barely made a sound throughout the whole ordeal.
Thankfully he has the woman in a pair of too big sweats, wrapped in a thick blanket by the time Alice gets back, carrying way too many pieces of fire wood than a ten year old should carry.
“Easy there Starfish.” He says rising to grab some of the larger chunks before they could be dropped. “This is more than enough.” He assures her.
“Is she going to be ok?” Alice asks as he starts the fire. “Was she in the water a long time? We had a storm last night, do you think she got caught in it? Where do you think she’s from?” Alice asks, thinking at light speed.
Killian doesn’t know. All he knows is that the woman is still pale, she’s breathing, and she’d been shot and left for dead.
“We’ll have to wait and see Starfish.” He tells her. Right now all that can be done is wait and hope that he found her in enough time, that the warmth from the clean blankets and fire can help her system.
(And that whoever did this believes her to be dead)
“Papa, do you think she’s with the bad people?” Alice asks after a moment. “You said that we had to be careful, do you think she’s one of them? Are we going to have to leave?”
Killian doesn’t know, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell Alice that it was a possibility. All he knows is that saving this woman is the right thing to do, but that when she wakes up they would both have to be on their guard.
They don’t even know when this woman was going to wake up.
“We’ll just have to ask her when she wakes up.” He says to her. “But no matter what we’re going to be ok.” He assures. “Go get dressed, I’ll start this fire and perhaps we can have a tea party for breakfast?” He inquires. Killian knows she can’t resist a tea party.
Alice lights up, all worry forgotten, she nods excitedly. “Can we have cookies? And little marmalade sandwiches?” She asks, practically jumping up and down. “We haven’t had them in a long time.”
Killian smirks.
“It’s not a tea party without little sandwiches.” He says, ruffling her blonde locks. Alice smiles brightly and then rushes to her room, promising to get dressed ‘superfast’.
Killian just smirks. He’s glad Alice is so excitable, he’s glad he can see her with so much hope and joy. It was the point of all of this, he reminds himself. He hasn’t seen Alice cry once since they left the city, since they escaped the circus of their lives to live in solitude.
He can’t let this woman ruin that. When he first saw her Killian thought there was something different about her, special even, but Killian also saw Eloise as special and look how all that turned out…
Eloise gave him Alice. Killian forces himself to remember.
No matter how special this woman may seem, he can’t lose this home he’s built for his daughter. He can’t lose his Starfish.
//
She doesn’t wake up during the tea party, not ever when “Hatter” and “Mr. Rabbit” start arguing over who got the last cookie.
She also doesn’t wake up when he reads to Alice her favorite book, Robin Hood for the dozenth time.
Killian checks on her occasionally. He can see the color returning to her face, but her skin is still cold.
She waits until Alice is seeing to her dozen pet bunnies in the garden to wake up.
And she doesn’t wake up quietly. She lets out a gasp and scrambles on the couch, as if she’s fighting the blankets he’d cocooned her in earlier. It completely takes Killian by surprise, making him jump in his seat at the kitchen table.
“Wher-where-“ The woman says in a series of gasp, finally getting free of the blankets she sits up. “Easy lass.” He says getting closer to her. She looks frazzled and frightened, eyes wondering everywhere, settling nowhere. It takes a second before they eventually land on him. “You’re safe.” He assures her, hand on her shoulder.
Killian assumes that she’d be frightened, that her last memories were the fear of death.
He wanted to assure her that she was safe here.
Green eyes blinked and met his. He saw them flash dangerously seconds before she strikes.
She punched him hard in the jaw. It sent him reeling off the couch, landing on knees clutching his jaw. The blow was far stronger than he thought she or anyone would be able to after half drowning.
It bloody hell hurt.
He looked back at her and she didn’t just stop at punching him, somehow she’d rolled off the couch collapsing onto her knees as tremors shook her body. She suddenly clutches her leg and squeezes her eyes shut.
“There was no need to punch me.” He mutters under his breath.
Her teeth chattering are all he can hear as a response. She seems to focus suddenly with a sigh. It seems she’s realized that wherever she thought she was she isn’t.
The realization, however, doesn’t seem to keep her from snapping back at him. “Yeah well I don’t usually react well to waking up on strangers’ couches without my clothes.” She says. “Hell this hurts.” She hisses, clutching her leg.
“Well I usually don’t find strangers half drowned and frozen on my beach. Typically saving their bloody life comes before their comfort.” He shoots back. They stare at each other for a moment with apprehension. She looks away first clutching her body as she shivers.
“Let’s get you back on the couch.” He insists, but doesn’t dare move closer. Killian was a quick learner.
“Not on your life.” She snaps back. Killian sighs. The bloody stubborn woman.
“Papa!” Both their heads turn. Alice is standing by the couch. He hadn’t even heard her come in. “You’re bleeding.” She says in a whisper. He touches his jaw feeling the barest bit escaping his lip.
“There’s a kid here.” The woman says in a whisper, more to herself than to him. He simply nods.
“It’s alright sweetie.” He says getting to his feet. “I was just having a disagreement with our new friend here.” He insists, going to his daughter. “See? I’m fine.” She doesn’t look convinced. “Why don’t you go get us all tea? Tea always makes everything better right?” Alice nods slowly and does so, but she doesn’t look convinced.
He takes this opportunity to go talk to their new “friend”. “Let me get you back on the couch and warmed up, preferably without scaring my daughter.” He says impatiently.
The woman responds with a nod. Her skin is cold to the touch as he moves her, blonde hair going everywhere. She settles with her leg extended on the couch.
“I got the tea Papa.” Alice says coming into the room and carefully putting the tray on the table.
He turns to the woman, she’s staring at Alice. “Tea? We only have Earl Grey.” He announces. She snaps back to look at him. She nods. Killian finds her sudden silence unnerving.
But he goes about pouring her a mug and settling in her hands. She hums in gratitude. Killian imagines the warmth of the mug feeling good after being so cold for so long. “So what’s your story love?”
She glares at him; he can practically see her debating what to say, picking her words. It rubs him the wrong way. He wonders why he bothered to save this stranger; he should have just pretended not to see her.
“My name’s Alice.” His daughter announces approaching her, hand held out, completely oblivious to the tense situation. “Papa found you on the beach. I thought you were dead, but Papa started a fire and you don’t look dead anymore.” Alice looked her over skeptically.
He swore he heard the woman snicker. “I was in pretty bad shape wasn’t I?” She asked. Alice nodded. “My name’s Emma, Emma Swan.” She shakes Alice’s hand.
Emma Swan.
“How’d you end up on the beach?” Alice asks. “And why did you punch my Papa, he was only trying to help.” Emma hesitates, looking back at him, and then back at Alice.
“I got lost. I tried to swim home but I got tired.” She lies badly. He knows she’s running from something, he can feel it. “I got scared when I woke up somewhere I didn’t know. I’m sorry for hurting your Dad.”
Alice places her hands on her hips. “Papa says you’re not supposed to swim by yourself or at night.” She lectures. “It only leads to big trouble.”
Emma nods, still looking at him. “I probably should have listened to that advice.” She mutters taking a sip of tea.
“What about-“ Alice starts, but then Killian shakes his head.
“I think that’s enough questions for now Starfish.” He interrupts, “Besides don’t you have a book to finish reading?” Alice’s eyes brighten up.
“I almost forgot!” She exclaims, hopping up and down. “It’s called The Princess and the Pirate by Henry Mills, have you ever read it?” She asks. Emma shakes her head.
Knowing his daughter, Killian can tell this is the perfect excuse to go on and on about her favorite book to a new audience.
“Can I show Emma my book? The one from Uncle Liam?” She asks Killian, wide eyed. “Pretty please?” He sees Emma looking at him. She has a curious expression on her face. She’s watching to see what he’ll do.
“Not right now, she needs her rest after her long day.” He reminds her. “How about you go get a head start and I’ll be along in a minute? We also have a lot of school work to get through today” Alice nods.
“Have a good rest Emma.” Alice says and then she takes off upstairs to get her books.
Killian lets out a sigh of relief, glad she lets the matter drop.
“Cute kid.” Emma says after a moment, leaning back as well. “Lots of energy.”
He glances at her. “We don’t get a lot of company out here.” He says softly. “She likes taking in strays.” Emma rolls her eyes.
“I’ll say.” She says sarcastically.
“Let me get one thing clear here.” He says after a moment, his voice turning stern. “You did not get lost; someone shot you and wanted to kill you.” Emma doesn’t respond. “I don’t care who it was or why. All I care about is Alice. All I want is whatever trouble you’re in not to involve her.” He says sternly. “You can stay until you’re healed and after that-“
She cuts him off. “You don’t need to worry about me.” Emma snaps bitterly. “I’ll be out of here ASAP. Trust me; this is the last place I’d rather be.”
