#with mfamb

[kat2609]

500 follower fics - The Wedding Planner

@spartanguard and I are celebrating the sharing of our brains and the syncing of our follower counts with 500ish word fics. It is definitely taking longer than expected - right now I am aiming for double or nothing. Can I get them done before I am double the original number of followers???

@icapturedkindness asked for CS and number 51 which was a line of your own choosing. She chose “That’s the best way you have used your hook yet.” This was not really where I expected to go...but here you go!

The Wedding Planner

It struck Emma Swan that if she had known a wedding would turn her mother into a stark raving lunatic she may have reconsidered the impulse to ask Killian to marry her.

The fact that this particular thought struck her as she sat huddled in the bottom of her walk in closet, barely breathing for fear that Snow would find her was doing absolutely nothing to lessen that feeling. She loved Killian with all her heart, she did, and wanted nothing more than to be married to him but the daily litany of wedding miscellania that had greeted her each day since the moment she and Killian had announced their engagement was enough to make the most eager of brides head straight for Vegas.

“Emma?” Her mother’s voice echoed through the house. Not for the first time, Emma damned the day she had given Snow a key, listening anxiously as the loose board outside their bedroom creaked it’s warning of imminent danger.

“Are you here, honey?”  She was in the room now and Emma held her breath. “I have the seating charts to go over with you.”  There was silence for just a moment and then Emma heard the footsteps retreat down the hall.

She was going to have to change the locks.

~~~**~~~

Killian found it funny, of course.

Emma was secretly convinced he enjoyed the minutiae of wedding planning as much as her mother. Which was far more than a 300 year old pirate probably should.  

Finding the two of them, heads together and debating the merits of chicken or fish or some other minor detail had become so common, Emma had suggested he take on the planning and just let her show up on the day in a white dress.

She almost thought she had him convinced, too, until her mother sourced sailor suits for Neal and several of the smaller Lost Boys to wear for the ceremony.

Suddenly, Snow White was a woman teetering on the edge of madness and needed to be kept in check. And although the idea of rocking up to a ceremony pre-prepared by other people had been strangely appealing, somehow having an ally was a much more welcome prospect.

Especially one with a hook.

~~~**~~~

David noticed Snow missing about an hour before the rehearsal dinner was due to start.

He failed to notice something else missing from his best mate and future son-in-law, but the knowing glances and poorly hidden sniggers from his daughter and her pirate suggested that something was afoot.

“Emma, have you seen your mother?” he asked, eyeing the soon-to-be newlyweds with some suspicion. Emma seemed to have a coughing fit unexpectedly, but Killian was, as ever, quick to step into the breach.

“Not since she was going over the final table settings with us just before. I think perhaps she headed out the back to establish what Granny had ready?”

His voice didn’t falter, but there was something shifty in the pirate’s eyes.

“I better go and look for her, then,” David said cautiously, and Emma and Killian nodded. As he headed fr for the back hallway, he stared back over his shoulder as if hoping to catch some hint of what was going on, but the two of them sat silently, smiles plastered in place as he watched.

As he disappeared into the rear of the diner, Emma slumped in relief. She ran her hand along Killian’s arm, fingers toying with the leather of his brace before running around the hole left in his hook’s absence.

“That’s the best way you have used your hook yet,”  she said with a grin.  

“Not what you said last night, Swan,”  he replied with a lascivious wink, prompting an eyeroll of epic proportions in response. “And after all, you’re the one who magicked it onto the door handle of that storeroom to contain her.”

Cupping his chin with her hand, Emma placed the softest of kisses on his lips, before grinning up at him. “Well, I don’t want to upset you, Killian, but I think we make quite the team.”

“Indeed we do, love,” he  said, leaning back in to claim another kiss, his lips seeking hers as his fingers played with the ends of her hair. His eyes darted to the doorway where David had disappeared and he held up his empty brace to her. “Now perhaps we should remove the the evidence before your father rescues the damsel in distress and our part in her disappearance becomes abundantly clear ?”

A flick of Emma’s wrist returned his hook to it’s rightful place.  And if David eyed them suspiciously when he returned with his wife, Snow adamant she needed to talk to Granny about the jammed storeroom door, Emma decided it was worth it.

Go check out Kaityn’s version HERE

[kat2609]

500 follower fic - It’s a Perfectly Cromulent Word

@spartanguard and I are celebrating the sharing of our brains and the syncing of our follower counts with 500ish word fics. It is definitely taking longer than expected LOL

The most beautiful @annytecture asked for this old favourite “This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I am in.” for (*sobs*) Captain Charming Hood. I wish I could have had this done a bit quicker, truly, but I guess now I will say it is canon divergence. A lovely divergence where that baby is called something else. Massive reference to The Simpsons too, so hopefully someone other than me will recognise it. And a few other little Easter egg type things, I guess. Thanks for being you, Ann. You rock.

It’s a Perfectly Cromulent Word

It had been one mighty defeat too many and there were definite rumbles of dissatisfaction in the corner booth at Granny's the morning after. Emma and Killian’s monthly dinner party and game night had become part of the fabric of Storybrooke’s social calendar...but the pirate's insistence on a rousing game of Scrabble after almost every meal had become a bone of contention with more than one of his usual guests.

“It’s beyond me how a man that spent his time on a boat drinking rum can have a vocabulary like some kind of freakish professor,” Robin complained as he sat with David for a morning coffee.

“Not to mention the way he manages to put a ‘z’ on every one of those damn triple word scores,” David replied.  “What is ‘zymurgy’ anyway? Are we sure he’s not making them up?”

Robin shook his head sadly. “I looked that one up. Completely legitimate, I’m afraid. Something to do with beer making.”

David’s shoulders slumped as Henry slid into the booth next to him.

“Killian kicked your butts again?” he asked with a grin, looking from one man to the other.

“Handed them to us on a platter, I’m afraid, lad,” Robin said, picking at his breakfast absentmindedly. “Frankly, it’s becoming a bit of an embarrassment.”

The prince was stony faced. “I  still think he’s making at least some of them up. There just cannot be that many words with a ‘q’ in them. You told me he taught you how to cheat at dice, why not this?”

Henry snorted, before pausing, a thoughtful look crossing his face. The boy started to laugh and both David and Robin looked curiously at him.

“You said it Grandpa. Why not this?”

David narrowed his eyes at his grandson. “What are you proposing here, buddy?”

“Oh I have a perfectly cromulent plan,” Henry chuckled, pulling out the notebook and pen that was never far from him and scribbling furiously.

Robin looked confused. “I don’t know what that word means, Henry,” he said, trying to catch a glimpse of what the boy was writing so intently.

Henry looked up at the archer, winking cheekily in a way that could only be attributed to time spent with the pirate in question.  “I know you don’t,” he said. “And neither will Killian. But we are going to need to get a few people in on the act.”

---***---

If David had any concerns over how quickly his 13 year old grandson was able to bring together a deception of this magnitude, they were quickly quashed by the face of one Killian Jones across the Scrabble board when next they met.

Robin’s mouth twitched as he laid his tiles across the triple word score. “Q-U-O-Z-Z-L-E,” he spelled out, “with David’s blank here for my extra ‘z’’. I think that should net me a hefty score.”

From the couch, Emma let out a snort as Killian’s mouth narrowed into a tight line. He looked suspiciously at David and Robin, blue eyes darting from one to the other, scanning their faces for any sign of foul play.

The two men had too much riding on this game to allow any chinks in their armour. Their expressions remained even as they watched the pirate battle the urge to admit he did not know this word or it’s meaning.

David suspected he had struggled with this several times during the evening. Henry had, of course, made up the vast majority of the words he and Robin had played so it was only natural the pirate would be feeling unsure.

Ulk.

Weggle.

Spland.

All masterfully created by the Author and currently driving Killian slowly mad.

He exchanged a very self-satisfied smirk with Robin across the table.

His tolerance apparently at an end, Killian called for reinforcements. “Swan, may I have your opinion on a matter of wordplay?” Emma came to the table, her hands on his shoulders as she leaned over the board. Killian pointed to word in question and Emma seemed to think for a moment.

“Oh, yeah, a quozzle,” she said, nodding at him. “That’s that small Australian rat animal, isn’t it?”

“Not a creature with which I am familiar, Swan, I’m sure.” Killian said, narrowing his eyes at Robin, who sat with the most neutral of faces opposite him. “And I’m rather surprised to hear that you are, mate.”

Without missing a beat, Robin replied, “Young Roland has been rather taken with some of the more exotic animals of this realm thanks to a book from Belle’s library. I am quite the expert in Australian wildlife now.”

David dug his fingers into his own leg in an attempt to hold down the laughter at Killian’s disbelieving face. Emma was the picture of innocence, but it appeared the pirate still held some reservations.

“Well, friend, as much as it pains me to doubt the efficacy of your claims, I believe I will consult the definitive source of vocabulary in these parts. Please excuse me while I contact young Henry.” He rose from the table, taking his phone from his pocket and stepping outside onto the wide verandah.

The chuckle that had been building in David’s throat erupted. The pirate would get little help from the mastermind of this whole endeavour.

Emma slid into Killian’s chair, shaking her head at her father and his friend.

“Have you finished playing with him yet?” she asked. “When he finds out, you two are in a world of trouble. Revenge is one of his best things.”

“Your son was the evil genius behind it, you know,” Robin laughed and Emma joined in.

“Yeah, well, occasionally what he inherited from his other grandfather comes to the fore,” she said.

David smiled at his daughter. “Thanks for playing along with our plan, Emma. I know it shouldn’t be so satisfying to get one over on him - but, by god, it is.”

Emma grinned. “This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you have ever had,” she said. “Of course I was in!”

Go and check out Kaitlyn’s take on this one HERE

[kat2609]

500 follower fic - Locked

@spartanguard and I are celebrating the sharing of our brains and the syncing of our follower counts with 500ish word fics. It is definitely taking longer than expected LOL 

@brooke-to-broch my darling, you asked for “Looks like we will be trapped here for a while.” with no specific ship - so I stuck with the classics on this one. I described it to Kaitlyn as ‘smut adjacent’ which id about as close as I get (ie not really at all) Thanks for making my fandom life infinitely more wonderful!!

Locked

She knew it was asking for trouble, sneaking around like a couple of school kids, making out in darkened corners whenever the opportunity arose - but after all the hell they had gone through - literally - Emma would not apologise for making the most of having a piercing-eyed, smouldering pirate who loved her.

Especially not one that had an uncanny knack for appearing as if out of thin air, despite assuring her there was no residual magic left from his days as the Dark One.   

She had lost count of the number of times he appeared in the sheriff’s office just as her father left, blue eyes flashing as he sauntered in her direction, knowing fully the effect his arched eyebrow and wicked little smirk had on her. Sometimes he held a bag from Granny’s, the unmistakable scent of onion rings wafting towards her and making her stomach lurch in anticipation, although usually the artfully tousled hair and his miraculous inability to button his shirt were more than enough to have the same effect.

There was no food today - just a rain-dampened head of hair and his teeth on his bottom lip as he came towards her, almost predatory as he scooped her into his arms and melded his lips to hers. Her teeth replaced his as she toyed with him, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin until he growled back at her and tangled his hand in her hair, pulling her closer and walking her back against the closest hard surface.

Braced against the cool steel of the cell bars, Emma pressed her body against his, craving his nearness, his heat. Today his kisses were not enough. The hot press of his lips on hers were not going to tame the rumble of want low in her belly. His attentions moved along her cheek and down the long column of her neck and she turned slightly to give him access, every touch sparking tiny fires on her skin. She saw it from the corner of her eye, and hissed her orders at him.

“In the cell, pirate. Now.”

He wasted no time following her towards the rickety cot in the corner,  his hook catching the bars as he fought to keep his mouth on her skin. The door clanged shut, the metallic noise echoing through the silence of the station.

She was pulling him down on the bed on top of her before she realised what had happened, hands running the length of his muscled torso as he balanced himself above her.

“What a disaster, Swan,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear as his fingers toyed with the hem of her creamy sweater. “Looks like we may be trapped in here for a while.”   

She looked at him impatiently. “I think I can magic a door open, Jones.”

His grin turned feral, eyes darkening with desire as he captured her arms and pinned them above her head. “No love,” he commanded, every inch the pirate captain, the authority in his voice sending waves of desire rushing through her. “I said we’ll be trapped here for a while.”

She could do little but nod as his lips found hers, his tongue claiming her mouth as he pressed his body hard against her.

Nod, and lock the door to the outside world just as securely.

You can find Kaitlyn’s take HERE...go give her some love!

[kat2609]

500 follower fic - The Look of Love

@spartanguard and I are celebrating the sharing of our brains and the syncing of our follower counts with 500ish word fics. It is definitely taking longer than expected LOL

@autoblocked requested “Tell me a secret” for Captain Cobra. I took a little bit of liberty with the phrase to make it work but I hope you enjoy it!

The Look of Love

It was a look that 300 years had made all too familiar. Many the crewman he had seen with particular droop of the shoulders, this certain downturn of the mouth. It could mean only one thing.

“Trouble with your lass, young Henry?” he asked as he slid into the booth opposite the boy.

Something akin to hope sparked in the boy’s eyes for just a moment as he took in his new companion before the doleful look returned and he shrugged his shoulders noncommittally

“Come now, lad, it’s clear as day that something’s not shipshape - and I have seen far too many a mournful sailor with this very expression in my long life to not recognise troubles on the path of young love.”

In a gesture eerily reminiscent of his mother, Henry’s eyes rolled back dramatically - but then his shoulders slumped with an accepting sigh.

“Ok, maybe I have a problem,” he said, toying with the straw in his milkshake, “but I doubt you can help.”

Killian leaned across the table toward the boy. “Lad, I managed to win the heart of the formidable Emma Swan - there is little about the ways of wooing women with which I am not familiar.”

The boy shuddered visibly. “I really don't want to hear about that, Killian. Like, really.”

Like grandfather, like grandson, Killian chuckled to himself.

“Well I will spare you the details pertaining to your mother, my lad, but rest assured I have a few tricks up these sleeves that I am more than willing to share if you are so inclined. But if you prefer, I will take my leave.”

The pirate stood and turned towards the counter. He had taken but a few steps before Henry’s voice rang out.

“Killian, wait…” He turned back to the boy, fighting the smirk that was his natural response to the situation and failing just a little. “All right,” Henry conceded. “I need you to tell me a few secrets.”

If the eye roll had been Emma, his tone in concession was one hundred percent Regina. Killian caught Granny’s eye and mouthed his order at her, giving a small bow by way of thanks. She nodded and headed behind the counter and he slipped back into the booth opposite the boy.

“Out with it, lad.”

~~~**~~~

He hadn’t intended to keep tabs on the boy, not really, but somehow knowing what was at stake had drawn him to the Jolly Roger and a discrete vantage point. It had been many a year since he had felt nervous over courting a young lady - or so he tried to tell himself as thoughts of climbing a beanstalk flashed into his mind - but he felt more than a touch of responsibility for seeing the lad right.

The young couple wandered slowly along the dock - Lady Violet holding a small posy in one hand and Henry’s hand in the other.

“Oh good form, lad,” Killian said to himself, watching as the boy paused and brushed a lock of hair from Violet’s shoulder. The young lady smiled and leaned in as Henry moved in closer...and Killian stepped away.

The lad deserved a little bit of privacy for his first kiss.

Check out Kaitlyn’s take HERE

[kat2609]

500 follower fic - Join the Joyride

@spartanguard and I are celebrating the sharing of our brains and the syncing of our follower counts with 500ish word fics. Believe it or not we are working through them...we were so surprised by the response so thank you!!!

@lbeartakestheworld requested that we get our favourite headcanon brOT3 in some adventures (edit is hers and I love it with all my heart as I do her and all her alter egos) with the line “This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you have ever had. Of course I’m in.” 

Thank god Josh and Colin took off in that car...thank you inspiration fairy...

Join the Joyride

She had lost count of the number of nights she had stood listening to them, shaking her head at the level of nonsense two normally sensible adult men could spout when rum was added to the scenario, even in small doses. And while she worked hard to keep the look of exasperated disapproval on her face as the prince and his pirate buddy talked in ever more ridiculous circles, there were nights when she found herself wiping down counters and stacking chairs with tears of laughter running down her cheeks as she remembered their conversations.

Idiots of the highest order, the pair of them.

And she loved them both dearly.

Tonight was somehow different. Her hearing had prickled at the mention of his name, the instinct to save the two fools from themselves fighting with the urge to throw her hat in the ring in search for adventure. The man was no friend of hers, after all - why should she worry if the Dynamic Duo singled him out for a bit of attention?  The normally smooth tones of Killian Jones echoed through the diner, alcohol and excitement giving his voice an unusually piercing tone as David thumped an enthusiastic fist on the table between them.

Oh they were going to get themselves in so much trouble.

She looked around her little kingdom - it was a quiet night, the diner almost empty save for David and the Captain - with very little left for her to do. Squaring her shoulders, she poured herself a small shot of rum, swallowing it down in one movement before making her way to their booth, sliding into the seat next to the Prince.

“You two are going to end up in the cells. Or worse.”

Both men turned and looked incredulously at her.  She shook her head, eyes rolling disdainfully.

“Wolf hearing,” she said by way of an answer to the question they hadn’t asked. “Plus you aren’t exactly whispering.”

The Captain chuckled. “Well, milady, as you are clearly aware of the parameters of our proposed adventure, it leaves only one question.”

David jostled against her shoulder, wicked grin in place. “Are you in?”

She breathed out heavily, the internal battle still raging as she looked from one to the other. The pirate looked at her with expectant eyes, his eyebrows dancing wildly as he awaited her answer.

“This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you have ever had,” she sighed. “Of course I’m in.”

~~~**~~~

It shouldn’t have been so easy - but clearly a man who wielded such power felt safe leaving his vehicle unlocked and at the mercy of whatever random citizens may  come across it.

She suspected the Dark One wouldn’t do that again.

From her spot in the back seat, she grinned as the pirate and the prince whooped and hollered out of the opened windows. The car made lazy loops up and down Main Street, David at the wheel as the Captain threw his head back and guffawed.

As a small crowd formed along the sidewalks, she lunged for the Captain’s hips, hands in his belt loops to steady him as he all but launched himself out the window to wave and cheer, his cellphone in hand recording their joyride for posterity.

Or evidence.

Because as the figure of Emma Swan, arms crossed and mouth in a hard line appeared in the middle of the street beside the owner of the vehicle in which they currently sat, it appeared there was every chance her predicted outcome for this little escapade was likely to come true. The car rolled to a stop just inches away from the Sheriff and the Dark One and David and the Captain climbed out to face the music.

She stayed put - unsure which of the grim faces lit by the streetlights she found more intimidating. No one seemed to have noticed her presence and she felt no need to alert them to it.

“Swan,” began the pirate, his most charming smile in place as he stepped toward his True Love. A path that was not running smooth at this moment, it appeared, as she raised a hand to silence him.

“Nope,” Emma said, “the sexy charm thing is not gonna cut it, buddy. Put it away.” She turned sharply towards her father. “And as for you, Sheriff…”  

David had the good grace to hang his head.

The wry half - smile on Gold’s face was unnerving. “It appears no harm was done, Ms Swan, despite your father and your lap dog’s best efforts, so I shall take my car and take my leave. I believe I have had sufficient hijinks for one evening.”

He stepped towards the car, his brow furrowing as he noticed the solitary figure in the back seat. He opened the door deliberately, his glare withering as she climbed out into the street.

“Speaking of lap dogs,” he intoned, the door swinging closed with a flick of his wrist. “Ms Swan, I will leave the animal control to you.”

She controlled the urge to hiss at him, thankful the consequences were not more than a few well-timed insults. The damn pickle would have to be free from now on.    

You can find Kaitlyn’s version HERE

[kat2609]

500 follower fic - Winner Takes It All

@spartanguard and I are celebrating the sharing of our brains and the syncing of our follower counts with 500ish word fics. You can find our prompt list HERE  If you are blessed with patience in the style of Killian Jones, feel free to send us a prompt of your own!

Back after a short (ish) hiatus for Christmas and that general nuttiness we return with the rest of the prompts our lovely followers sent us.

My beautiful @brooke-to-broch requested #35 “You heard me. Take. It. Off.” (Of course she did LOL) and somehow this just wrote itself...

Winner takes it all

This had been a very bad idea. She had thought she would have an advantage - he didn’t know the game, the rules, the strategic decisions that should have put her firmly in the position of power.

Had things gone to plan, the scene in their living room would be significantly different at this moment. In Emma’s head there had been a pile of well-worn leather on the floor and a feast of hard torso and glorious chest hair for her eyes. Not to mention the flirtatious face above it all, suggestive winks and the knowing drag of tongue on lips that she knew would drive her crazy.

To be fair, she had seen plenty of those last two.

It wasn’t in his nature to be a gracious winner, not when the stakes were this high and the opportunity to beat her at her own game was there for the taking.

His eyes were taunting her now, his fingers moving melodramatically above his cards as he made his selection, as if the decision was worthy of his full consideration despite what they both knew was the foregone conclusion.  He drew the card out slowly, teasing her, delaying the inevitable.

“Just play it,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Ah, but what would be the fun in that, Swan?” he chuckled. “Perhaps this will be your moment. Your glorious comeback.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, cocking her head to the side as he waved the card in front of her with  a flourish.  Just as he seemed about to put her out of her misery, he drew it back, grinning wildly.

“Just so we are clear on the terms of our agreement. Swan, if you were to win this hand, you would ask me to remove an item of my clothing - my vest, for example.” Emma nodded, her teeth sunk in her bottom lip at the thought of undoing that multitude of buttons. “But,” he continued,”If I win, you will pay the same forfeit to me?”

Emma looked pointedly at the floor beside her - where her jacket, shirt and bra lay pooled already. His face as she removed her bra from under her tank top, with no flesh on show,  had been a small win in what had otherwise been a disaster for her.

“Play the fucking card, pirate.”

His tongue was doing disgraceful things on his lips as he placed his card on the pile.

Draw Four. Wild.

He waved the one remaining card in his hand at her. “Uno, Swan. Off it comes.”

Emma kept her eyes firmly on his - the sight of his feral grin and dancing eyebrows more than she could handle, she knew. Damn him to...well, not there, but somewhere equally as unpleasant… he knew exactly what buttons to push to get her hot and infuriated in equal measures.

“You still have a card left. Perhaps…” she started, her voice coming out in a breathy whisper as he inched closer to her, eyes flashing with heat.

He tossed the card on the pile as he reached her side, hand toying with the hem of her tank, her skin aflame where he touched her.

“You heard me, Swan. Take. It. Off.”

Perhaps next time she'd suggest strip Scrabble. Because it seemed even when she lost, she won...

Check out Kaitlyn’s take HERE

[spartanguard]

take. it. off. (500 Follower Appreciation)

To celebrate our brain-sharing friendship and reaching 500 followers within days of each other, @kat2609 and I are thanking you awesome people with a series of two-for-one prompts!

The absolutely lovely @brooke-to-broch made and excellent request: 35, “You heard me. Take. It. Off!” Oh, this could go so many ways…hope you enjoy where this one went, darling friend, and thanks for your patience and general awesomeness!

“You heard me. Take. It. Off!”

Emma’s jaw dropped and her eyes grew wide. She had no idea what she was hearing from outside the door of the loft, nor was she sure she wanted to know. And a quick glance over at her father’s similar expression told her that he felt the same.

We were barely gone an hour; what the hell happened?

“Alright, we’ll be back in a bit!”

“Swan, wait—”

“Killian, you’ll be fine!” Why he was so freaked out was beyond her; all he had to do was hold on to Neal while her mom did some cleaning around the loft. And her little brother was at a stage where he hated to be put down. She’d been on baby duty earlier, but then they got a call requiring sheriff presence, so that left Killian to handle him.

“But what if I drop him?” He was almost shaking he was so nervous, his voice rising an octave in fright. It wasn’t like he’d never held Neal before (and Neal, frankly, adored him), but yeah, he’d never been one-on-one with the “little lad,” as he called him.

He’d already taken the hook off, so before he could protest further, Emma simply took her brother off her hip and shoved the wriggling infant toward Killian. Neal adorably reached for his favorite sort-of brother-in-law, and Killian instinctively reached up to grab him, despite the fear in his eyes, holding tight with his right hand and supporting Neal’s little bum with his left arm. Immediately, Neal began happily toying with the charms of Killian’s necklace. Killian opened his mouth to object further, but Emma cut him off. “Just hold him, and you will be fine. You’ve got this,” she stated confidently, with a reassuring pat on the arm.

He sighed. “Alright. See you soon.”

Now, barely an hour later, after resolving the chaos that had popped up at the docks, it seemed as though a new kind was brewing right at home. A million thoughts ran through Emma’s head, but none of them could rationally explain why her mother was loudly demanding that, and why a long, loud sigh from Killian followed. Not wasting another moment, Emma threw open the door, preparing herself for the worst—or, at least, the weirdest.

Peering in, she was greeted with an odd, but certainly not unwelcome, sight: Killian, in the process of shirking both shirt and vest, for an expectant Snow White. But whereas anyone else in town would have been enjoying the sight of him dragging the soft fabric down his arms, revealing his firm chest and abs, Snow’s outstretched, waiting hand was nothing but motherly.

Emma found herself content to just watch the unfolding scene, but of course, David was not. While firmly staring at the floor, he cleared his throat, making both Snow and Killian jump just as the shirts were placed in her grip.

“Oh, you’re back!” she shouted, as cheerily and innocent as ever. Killian, however, immediately looked down and blushed a deep red that—Emma was delighted to discover—made its way over his sternum and across his collarbones in the most adorable way.

“What happened here?” David asked, trying (and failing) to keep an accusatory tone from his voice.

Killian continued to study the carpet, tucking his now-braceless arm behind his back, while Snow explained. “It’s nothing; Neal just spat up on Killian and it got all over his clothes. I wanted to wash it before it could stain; I was going to lend him one of your shirts in the meantime.”

Killian glanced up at Emma from under his thick lashes, seemingly apologetic, until he met Emma’s hungry gaze. A plan quickly formed in her mind. “You know, I think he’s got one in my room; come on, let’s check.” Before anyone could protest, she grabbed his hand and dragged him up the stairs, leaving Snow and David slightly perplexed.

“Did he really leave a shirt here?” Snow whispered to her husband as he grew near, seemingly racking her brain for memories of an instant.

“I sure hope so,” he replied with a sigh. “At least she doesn’t have any walls up there.”

The slam of a door called their attention to the upper floor, where wooden paneling that definitely hadn’t been there before mocked them. “Well, she does now,” Snow deadpanned.

David groaned. “I just hope she made them soundproof.”

Now go read Kath’s take on the same prompt!

[kat2609]

500 follower fic - Inked

After an extended Christmas hiatus @spartanguard and my 500 follower celebration returns as we both try to finish all the awesome prompts we received before we tick over to some other huge follower milestone!

@mayquita requested #18. “This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.” for Captain Charming.  You know, the hardest part of a Captain Charming fic about a stupid plan is narrowing down what kind of nonsense these two idiots will get up to! (It took me double our allocated 500ish words to nail it down) I hope you like it Tere!!

Inked

There was never a question of who he should ask and where he should look to find him.

“Hook, can I have a word?” David sidled up to the back booth at Granny’s, where Killian sat with his arm around Emma’s shoulder, their heads close together as they laughed at some private joke. Emma looked quizzically at him but he remained stoic in the face of her silent interrogation.

The pirate indicated the seat across the booth but David shook his head. “Actually, I’d like to speak in private.”

Emma was relentless in her gaze. “Oh, this will end well,” she stated with a soft snort, sliding out of the booth to allow Killian a path. He looked back over his shoulder at her, eyebrows raised to his hairline in amusement, as David ushered him away to a quiet corner of the diner.

The prince was clearly anxious, shuffling his feet and avoiding eye contact, despite his earlier bravado in the face of his daughter.

“What’s this about, Dave?” Killian asked, “What have you done?”

“It’s not what I’ve done,” he said. “It’s what I want to do and I need your help.”

“Mate, I have no desire to put myself on the outs with your fair lady and this has the decided look of trouble brewing.” Killian looked doubtful. David grabbed the pirate’s arm and shoved the sleeve of his jacket back, revealing the inked design on his forearm.

“I need to know how I get one of these,” the prince announced.

~~~**~~~

The back alley rooms in the dingiest part of Storybrooke did not fill David with confidence.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” he asked nervously, looking at the stained window coverings and the pile of old newspapers stacked by the door.

“Mr Smee is very adept at keeping track of my old crew, Dave, so rest assured it is indeed the right place. Perhaps you should reconsider this unalterable and permanent decision if you are uncertain?”

The prince squared his shoulders, taking a deep breath before reaching out to push open the door. He turned to Killian, white face and clammy upper lip belying his attempt at appearing brave. “No. I want to do this. For Mary Margaret.” He paused briefly. “Thanks for coming with me.”

Killian gripped David’s shoulder tightly, his grin unsettling to say the least. “Wouldn't miss it for the world,” he smirked. “This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you've ever had, mate. Of course I'm in.”

Without another beat, Killian all but pushed David through the door. If the appearance of the building had made David uncomfortable, the man himself filled him with dread. Hands and fingers stained yellow from tobacco and god knew what else, more gaps in his mouth than teeth, the man grinned when he saw the black leather and flashing metal of his old captain.

“Cap’n!” exclaimed the gnarled old pirate, rushing forward to shake Killian's hand. “What a treat to ‘ave you. Looking for somethin’ special for your new lady love, are ya?” Killian shook his head and pushed David to the fore.

“Actually, it’s my old mate Dave here that requires your services.”

The old man did a double take when he recognised his new customer and bowed deeply. “Your Highness,” he said. “What an ‘onour to have you grace my fine establishment.”

Killian laughed softly. “The Prince would like to avail himself of your considerable talents, Cartwright, by way of a gift for his princess. Are you up for the challenge?”

The old man grinned again, ushering David quickly to his work space. David averted his eyes from the collection of grimy looking tools and inks, his breathing slow and steady as he slipped his shirt over his head and leaned forward over the chair.

~~~**~~~

The hearty clap on the back was just a little bit harder than was strictly necessary, David thought, as he entered the loft, grinning pirate in tow.

“Well, best be letting me inspect the old codger’s handiwork before you show it to your lovely wife,” Killian smirked, toying with the hem of David’s shirt until the prince slapped his hand away in frustration.

“Back off,” David snapped, pulling his shirt up tentatively until the patch of white gauze was visible on his shoulder. Killian peeled back the adhesive, saying nothing for several moments, a gentle snort the only thing escaping his lips as he surveyed David’s new tattoo.

“What?” David asked anxiously. “What was that snort for? Is something wrong? Tell me.” Killian only shook his head, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as if in deep contemplation. In his anxious state, David tried peering over his own shoulder, turning himself around several times before he admitted the futility of the attempt, the pirate cackling all the while.

“No, it’s nothing,” Killian drawled, “it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I was just a little surprised that you would be so free with the innermost workings of your marital bed, mate.”

David’s mouth dropped open. “What the hell are you talking about?” he yelled. “What does it say?”

If he had been in his right mind, David realised later, the smirk and the dancing eyebrows would have alerted him to the pirate’s mischief. But in the moment, the possibility of his beautiful, thoughtful gift of love besmirched by an inept old pirate was more than he could bear.

“Mate, I am a very open minded man when it comes to amorous adventures -” there was a pause here, clearly designed for maximum effect; an effect that was felt fully by its intended recipient, “-but I suspect I would draw the line at promising to always ‘bind’ my lady love. At least by way of tattoo.”

David slumped against the nearest chair. “Find you,” he whispered. “I will always find you. That’s what it was supposed to say.”

“Ah yes, well that would make far more sense.” The pirate nodded in agreement, his eyes serious while his lips twitched at the corners. “Perhaps you should go and see for yourself?”

Without a word, David took off in the direction of the bathroom and the full length mirror. Killian himself headed quickly for the door, the time to make himself scarce now at hand.

The prince would realise he had been taken in as soon as he laid eyes on his new body art - and if David lived up to the words inked on his skin, he would be paying for his jest soon enough.   

You can find Kaitlyn’s version HERE