Characters: Emma Swan, Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Geppetto | Marco (Once Upon a Time), Alice Jones | Tilly, Elsa (Once Upon a Time)
Additional Tags: Captain Swan - Freeform, Captain Swan Regency, There Was Only One Bed. Friends to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Duke Killian Jones, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Scarred Killian Jones, Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Emma Swan
Summary:
Desperate times demand bold actions, and Emma Swan is about to pull off the ultimate gamble: faking an engagement to the elusive Duke of Hookshire to rescue her family from financial ruin. Her plan seems foolproof—until Killian Jones, London's most reclusive and mysterious nobleman, learns of his sudden engagement.
Once a celebrated figure of society, a tragedy drove Killian into self-imposed exile. Now, intrigued by the daring woman claiming to be his fiancée, he steps back into the spotlight, determined to turn the tables.
In a game where hearts are on the line, can a fabricated love affair turn real, or will the truth shatter more than just their reputations?
If you like, buy me a coffee :)
READ HERE: AO3
Preview:
As always, a huge thanks to my wonderful beta, @xarandomdreamx, for correcting my mistakes and encouraging me with her thoughtful comments ❤️
Let’s make it clear: this edit is for Colin in this role, not Harrison. Because Harrison is an asshole. But I really love how Colin played him. He perfectly conveyed his duplicity and hypocrisy, and when Harrison finally dropped his “nice guy” mask, you could literally see it in the way Colin’s behavior - even his look - changed.
Tag people who may be interested: @bpdcaptainswan @teamhook @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @caught-in-the-filter @tiganasummertree @stahlords @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @zaharadessert @bluewildcatfanatic @once-upon-a-happy-end @ultraluckycatnd @qualitycoffeethings @deckerstarblanche @goodqueenkaro @brucethegirl
Characters: Emma Swan, Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Geppetto | Marco (Once Upon a Time), Alice Jones | Tilly, Elsa (Once Upon a Time)
Additional Tags: Captain Swan - Freeform, Captain Swan Regency, There Was Only One Bed. Friends to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Duke Killian Jones, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Scarred Killian Jones, Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Emma Swan
Summary:
Desperate times demand bold actions, and Emma Swan is about to pull off the ultimate gamble: faking an engagement to the elusive Duke of Hookshire to rescue her family from financial ruin. Her plan seems foolproof—until Killian Jones, London's most reclusive and mysterious nobleman, learns of his sudden engagement.
Once a celebrated figure of society, a tragedy drove Killian into self-imposed exile. Now, intrigued by the daring woman claiming to be his fiancée, he steps back into the spotlight, determined to turn the tables.
In a game where hearts are on the line, can a fabricated love affair turn real, or will the truth shatter more than just their reputations?
READ HERE: AO3
Preview:
As always, a huge thanks to my wonderful beta, @xarandomdreamx, for correcting my mistakes and encouraging me with her thoughtful comments ❤️
Today is my Birthday! And I made this cute Colifer edit as a gift for me and you. They brought Captain Swan to life and they did it so talented that it gave me so much inspiration! They helped me to get through rough times of my life! They are amazing! I love their cute friendship! And thanks to them and this fandom I met a lot of amazing and wonderful people! Thank you all! Love you!
Tag people who may be interested (don't feel like you must to congratulate me, it's just still ouat and cs related content 🙃): @killianxswan @teamhook @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @caught-in-the-filter @tiganasummertree @stahlords @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @zaharadessert @bluewildcatfanatic @once-upon-a-happy-end @ultraluckycatnd @qualitycoffeethings @deckerstarblanche @goodqueenkaro
Emma Swan has been recruited to leave her contract with the Gold Family behind and accept a job with the Jones Family - and a romantic role with Killian Jones. As they figure out what their future means, Emma is surprised to realize exactly what Killian has recruited her for - both professionally and personally.
Fic Total: 27,533
Rating: M (Might change to E)
Read on A03
Killian is already scrolling through his contacts when his phone is snatched out of his unsuspecting hands and he looks up into eyes the color of sea glass.
The eyes of Emma Swan.
They’ve spent less than three hours together, total, and for most of that time she’s been so bloody angry. Tense and taciturn. Exasperated - mostly at him - but also at the whole world. For a few minutes he’d gotten glimpses of something softer and sweeter, but that is gone now as she glares at him and raises an eyebrow.
“What are you doing?”
Killian reaches for his phone but she moves it behind her back, causing her marvelous breasts to thrust toward him again, and even though she’d just returned them into the bodice of her scandalously minuscule red dress, his hand wants to reach down and uncover them once again.
Focusing back on her question, Killian gives her a glare of his own and holds out his hand expectantly.
“Putting a hit on Neal Gold.”
Emma’s eyes bug out of her head. She even drops the phone with a loud clunk, hands immediately flying to her chest like she is trying to protect herself.
His stomach drops.
Killian Jones can admit it - he enjoys the power of his position. Whereas Liam keeps his hands clean, running the legal side of their business, Killian is engaged with the more nefarious side of the family empire. They work like hand in glove - Liam in the light and Killian in the dark. Frankly, that’s how Killian prefers it. He hasn’t the patience for coddling investors or attending dull charity functions. But give him a new corporation to acquire? An expansion to a branch? He relishes each and every opportunity.
Such works means that Killian is well acquainted with his darker nature. And his recruitment strategies are not always pleasant - at least not for those who are uninterested in sullying their hands with the kind of business that the Jones Family participates in.
He thought Emma understood that.
He isn’t prepared for the way she’s looking at him - with fear in her eyes - as though he’s a cold-blooded killer and she should be concerned for her own wellbeing.
She falters for a moment in her incredibly high heels and Killian braces himself for her to pull back, to pull away, to turn from the revelation of the sort of business he conducts. But just as he takes a step forward in some silly attempt to convince her that she needn’t fear him, she takes her own step forward and she’s back in his face again, her hand gripping his collar and her eyes once again blazing.
“Why the fuck would you do that?”
He doesn’t attempt to extract himself from her grip. He can handle her rage. And he rather likes having her close. Killian raises his eyebrows, poorly concealing his irritation with her ex-lover.
“I should think it was obvious.”
She cocks her head. “Enlighten me.”
“He used you.”
Her mouth rounds into a perfect O. Then she blinks and scoffs, “We used each other.”
Frankly, he’d prefer not to dwell on that. Of course she had her dalliances before they met. He did too - and he’d be a monster to blame her for any of that. But for a long time now, he’s thought of Emma Swan as a very special acquisition for the Jones Family. And if she is agreeing to pursue this thing they have together, then he’ll be the only one she’s using from now on.
He switches tactics.
“He hurt you.”
She doesn’t try to deny that one. She’d been an open book to him in the bar that night. And though she’d tried to cover it in a layer of sarcasm and prickles, that pain had been just below the surface and he’d felt duty-bound to tend to it as best as she’d let him.
“A lot of people have hurt me,” she counters after a moment. But it is the wrong play. Killian’s head begins to pound from the blood rushing through it.
“I want a list. Annotated.”
“And you’re going to off them?” she quips.
Her hand is still on his collar. Killian wraps his fingers around her wrist, keeping her still as he gazes at her seriously.
“The ones who deserve it, yes.”
He catches the change in her eyes the moment she realizes what exactly he means. How her pupils dilate and the color shifts to a lighter shade of green. Her hand loosens at his collar and, loathe to have her move away, Killian anchors his hands low on her hips, keeping her steady as she seems to sway in place.
“Fuck,” she breathes.
Killian grins at her.
“That’s what it means to be with me,” he murmurs. Leaning forward, he brushes his lips across her temple, allotting himself one last moment to inhale her clean, sweet scent - they really should return to the godawful party. “I do not let an insult stand.”
She snorts and he doesn’t have to look back down to know that her armor is returning again. It seems to be her second skin. He’s going to be challenging himself to get her to remove it for longer and longer periods of time.
“Because an insult to me is an insult to you?”
Killian does look down at her at that - annoyed at the implication. She’s covering her feelings with sarcasm again.
“No,” he snaps. “Because an insult to you is an insult to you.”
Gods, how have her men treated her in the past? How did Neal Gold treat her - besides fucking her on the side while courting a different woman in public? Although their tactics are different, Neal’s inherited his father’s lack of respect for women.
“Oh.” She blinks again, obviously trying to figure out how she should be insulted in this moment. Emma shakes her head slightly and lifts her chin. “Well, I don’t want you offing anyone for me. Not even Neal Gold.”
He’d like to convince her otherwise, but tonight is not the night for that. Grateful that she allows him one final, lingering kiss before they part, Killian sends her out of the room first and then picks his phone off of the floor to check on his emails until enough time has passed that their time together won’t be noted.
Back at the party, her cheeks are a pleasing pink as she networks with various business leaders. She’d had an aura of vindictive sexuality about her when she’d first arrived - which makes more sense now that he knows what happened between her and Neal. But that’s faded somewhat and he can see that the small smile on her lips is genuinely satisfied.
Two orgasms, a proclamation of real feelings, and a job offer - that’s all it took.
He wonders what transformations would occur with a more concerted effort to make her happy.
He cannot wait to find out.
-/-
What exactly does one wear to meet a mob boss?
A younger, less experienced Emma Swan hadn’t really thought too hard about that question. When Neal had introduced her to his father, two months after she began to work contract for the Gold Family and five months before their flirting turned into fucking, she’d just thrown on a pair of jeans and the first leather jacket hanging in her closet.
The patriarch of the Gold Family hadn’t been impressed. Their conversation had been brief - mostly him asking her a few questions about the surprising additional criminal activities she’d uncovered about a perp who was skimming some off the top. Once their business was through, he’d dismissed her, and even though Neal had insisted his father “really liked her” Emma got the feeling that he’d only really tolerated her.
With more wisdom and experience, Emma is more discerning about how to put her best foot forward with Liam Jones. She selects a pair of high-waisted navy trousers and a thrifted cream blouse, choosing heels - a solid pair that won’t kill her feet. She pulls her hair back into a ponytail and spends several minutes on makeup much less severe than what she’d put on a few nights before at the mixer.
Bright red lips. War paint.
To anyone tailing her - and Emma knows someone might be, though not continuously - at nine o’clock it appears that she steps out of her apartment and into a towncare heading downtown.
But anyone tailing her wouldn’t realize for several minutes that she was heading to Jones Commodities. And they wouldn’t be able to see, through the tinted windows, who was waiting for her in the backseat.
“Hello, Princess.”
His hand goes for her ass immediately - it seems to be his favorite feature - and his mouth goes for her mouth but she shoves him away and firmly settles on the seat beside him.
“I’m wearing lipstick,” she explains.
Killian’s lips are soft on her cheek instead, scruff tickling her skin, and once she buckles the seatbelt she angles her body to face him, wondering which version of Killian Jones she’s encountering today.
He’s in a suit again. This one is a gray color, paired with a charcoal shirt and a purple paisley tie. Reserved but surprisingly flashy. He wears it so well that she wonders how he looks so damn good in a leather jacket too.
The stubble on his face is lighter than the last two times she’s met him - did he trim it this morning? - and his dark hair just invites her to run her fingers through the strands and give in to the temptation to use a hand in his hair to lead him to her mouth, her neck, her tits, or somewhere lower.
She resists temptation.
Hands clutching one another just a little too tight, Emma tries to give Killian a look of cool nonchalance.
He sees through it immediately.
“Are you nervous?”
“No,” she lies.
His hand lands on top of hers and, after a moment of hesitation, searching her eyes for permission, he pulls one of her hands apart from the other and carefully laces his fingers with hers.
It feels like there is a soft but comforting pressure on her chest. Emma releases her breath and some of the tension in her shoulders and admits, “A little.”
“Liam is going to love you,” he says with a crooked smile. Emma’s picturing Gold’s cold eyes. She is just about to tell Killian she doubts it when he chuckles and squeezes her hand. “No. I shouldn’t set you up for disappointment. Liam will love you. Eventually. He just needs to learn to trust you first.”
Strangely, that makes Emma feel better. She has a better idea of what she’s walking into - and what’s gonna be possible this morning.
“Yeah, that makes sense.” Emma focuses on a freckle on the back of his hand and the longest finger of her other hand begins to trace around it. Her fingertip is swirling and her thoughts are swirling too.
“Do you trust me?” she asks.
This man is a virtual stranger. She’s spent the last year being told that he’s a flirt and a seducer and a ruthless narcissist. A few weeks ago she encountered him as a man in a bar that made her feel seen and - strangely - made her feel safe and precious. And the other night she met some combination of the two. But she’s still deciphering the puzzle that is Killian Jones and she is probably an idiot for jumping into bed with him - personally or professionally.
She wonders if she should just open the car door and jump out now - back out of everything all at once.
Killian’s hand shifts and he pulls it up to his mouth, twisting his wrist so that he can brush his lips across her knuckles. That comforting pressure is back in her chest.
“I trust my instincts, which tell me to trust you.” A peck on the back of her hand and he sets them both down, back in her lap. “And I’ve had my eye on you for quite some time now, lass. I’ve gotten an idea of what you’re capable of.” She’s not sure if she should be flattered or discomforted by his words.
He continues, “And I learned long ago that when you treat someone well, then they have no reason to betray you.”
And now his eyes are making promises - ones that remind her of the lazy trace of his tongue and the softness of kisses on her thighs and entirely too many compliments. Dammit he knew how to treat her well in one way, at least.
His next words throw her for a loop. “Do you trust me?”
Emma freezes. What the hell is she doing? Why is she in this car right now? Why is she probably going to fuck him later? Why is she opening herself up to being hurt again?
The words begin to form on the tip of Emma’s tongue, but she’s paused too long and Killian’s lopsided smirk reappears.
“Clever lass.” Her heart slams against her ribcage. “I wouldn’t trust me either.” His hand, still intertwined with her own, squeezes with a quick pulse. “But I’m thankful you’re giving me the opportunity to earn your trust.”
They’re silent the rest of the drive downtown, just holding hands and looking out the window. Killian doesn’t try to grope her again or kiss her or anything - he just sits next to her, his presence surprisingly comforting, and when the car stops at the building entrance, he slides out of the car before the driver can come around and opens the door for Emma, offering his hand once again.
She takes it.
Liam Jones’s office is on the top story - what a cliche, huh? - and Emma wills the droplets of sweat between her breasts and under her armpits to dissipate the entire elevator ride up. Killian’s not touching her anymore, but he’s standing right next to her, and on his other side is another one of those big, brawny guys that tailed him at the mixer. A body guard. She can see the slight bulge of a loaded holster on his back. The unnamed man is the first one off the elevator, peering up and down the hallway before extending a beefy arm across the elevator sensor and giving Killian a short nod that they can proceed.
The mob boss seems used to it all. His hand on the small of Emma’s back - in a respectful location but still in the neighborhood of grabbing her ass - leads her through a buzzing office full of cubicles and staff and water coolers and ringing phones. This is the legal side of the business, the work that’s supplemented by Killian’s various bribes and backdoor handshake deals. Liam Jones rules over an empire of corporations that all exist to support Jones Commodities.
As Killian escorts her through the maze of offices, eyes trail them with every step. To Emma, it is obvious that Killian, not the unknown Emma Swan, is the source of interest. Spines straighten slightly as he nears. Doe eyes flutter in an attempt to entice him. Little whispers and smirks follow him. And every person seems to recognize him - more than a few lift up a hand or coffee cup in greeting and there are several friendly calls of, “Good morning, Mr. Jones!” or “Good to see you, Mr. Jones!”
Eventually, the hulking body guard enters an archway that leads to a lobby with two secretaries and a comfortable seating area. One of the secretaries stands, giving Killian a welcoming smile, and opens a heavy oak door.
“Mr. Jones is ready for you.”
The CEO’s office is gorgeous. There’s no doubt about that. Whereas Emma recalls a certain dark gothic feel to Gold’s inner sanctum, Liam Jones prefers things bright and airy. There is a wall of windows looking down at a stunning view of Storybrooke. The furniture is simple, with clean lines, and the fabric on the couches is soft and inviting. Emma notes a large photograph on canvas - a black and white image of an old-fashioned ship, on the deck two bare-chested men with their arms flung around each other, both lifting beer bottles in celebration. On another wall is a literal oil painting of a pale woman with a platinum blonde braid on one shoulder, face impassive.
“Little brother.”
Liam Jones seems impassive as well, although there is a twinge of amusement mixed with hesitancy in the way he stands from behind a massive desk and circles around to pull Killian into a hug.
Killian huffs and grunts, “Younger” - this must be a thing between them, she can tell by the roll of Killian’s eyes when they part. He gestures to Emma and his annoyance dissipates. “Brother, may I introduce you to Emma Swan?”
“Liam Jones.” He holds out a hand and though Emma half-expects him to kiss the back of the hand she offers - that’s how his brother is, after all - Liam Jones shakes it firmly and Emma tries to channel her strength into her own shake.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jones,” she says politely.
He releases her hand and immediately turns to the little drink cart on Killian’s right and lifts the top off of a crystal decanter. A tiny tink echoes in the room. He pours the alcohol into three glasses with a practiced hand, offers one to Emma first, then Killian, and finally takes the third for himself. Just as Emma brings the tumbler to her mouth - more to be polite than anything - Liam Jones says, casually, “So, what can you tell me about the Gold Family’s operation?”
She just manages to take a sip - it is smokey and full and the back of her throat burns briefly - without spitting it out in surprise.
Keeping her cool and disguising the way that her heart rate has doubled, Emma shrugs and takes a second sip.
“Nothing that your informants haven’t already told you, I’m sure.”
There’s a subtle tinge of flattery to the words - or at least she hopes so - but Liam Jones is not dissuaded.
“I highly doubt that, Miss Swan.” He swirls the contents of his glass, sips, and swallows heavily. “You’ve been working for them for over a year now-”
“With them,” Emma corrects. Liam Jones raises his eyebrows and Emma tries not to wince. He doesn’t seem like a man that likes being interrupted.
“With them,” Emma clarifies. “When the Golds have a job for me, they offer it, I accept, and I do the job. That’s different from working for them. I have never been considered part of any inner circle.”
Silently, Emma prays that Liam knows nothing about her ill-fated romance with Neal Gold. Killian hadn’t, as it turns out, so unless he outed her to his brother in the last few days, he wouldn’t know that she’s had more access than she’s letting on.
“But still.” Liam gives her a smooth smile. “A whole year of information. Surely you can enlighten us in some way.” He takes a step closer, and with Liam in front of her and Killian beside her, there’s a feeling of being held in place, trapped, unable to get away.
The man with the gun on the other side of the closed office door could kill her in cold blood and probably no one would even bat an eye. This is Jones territory, and their rule is absolute. She’d guess they have at least seven cops, two detectives, and a judge in their pocket. And no one would really miss the little orphan bounty hunter without a family.
“I thought my little brother told you that we wanted to work together. Surely you didn’t think that offer came without some quid pro quo.”
The way his mouth lingers around the Latin phrase makes it sound almost sexual, and, beyond their similar features, Emma can see how Liam and Killian Jones are alike. They’re both sensual and charismatic, just in different ways.
She wonders if he’s flirting with her or bullshitting.
Drawing on her instincts, Emma holds her ground. She imagines roots coming out of the expensive rug beneath her and anchoring her to the floor, allowing her to stand tall and not back down. She takes a gulp of her liquor and, seemingly carelessly, hands it off to Killian. Emma shoves her hands into her pockets and lifts her chin defiantly.
“I don’t snitch on my clients.”
Liam doesn’t waver, doesn’t move an inch. He just stands there, watching her, waiting to hear something worth a response.
“I’m not an informant. I’m not a spy. I don’t pretend to be anything except who I am. But I’m good at tracking people. And I’m good at following a trail of information. I’m good at reading people. So if you just brought me here to snitch, then I guess our business is done. But if you’re serious about giving me a better challenge than chasing down idiotic criminals who suck at covering their tracks, then I’m your woman.” Emma clenches her jaw.
“Was your brother just blowing smoke up my ass?” She’s not sure if Liam Jones is the kind of guy who likes it when people curse, but she doesn’t know how else to phrase it. “Or do you have an actual job for me?”
For one tense, breathless minute, Emma stares Liam Jones down, willing herself not to blink, letting him see the bitchiest of resting bitch faces. She doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t back down. She doesn’t pretend to be some accommodating sweetheart or some quiet, scared little thing - even though she is a little intimidated by this whole situation.
Eventually, Liam’s eyes shift to her right, presumably to his brother.
“Did you tell her about the job?”
“I wanted your okay first,” Killian says. Emma doesn’t look over at him, but she can hear the smugness in his tone. Whatever just happened, he’s pleased about it.
“Sit, Miss Swan,” Liam orders, already moving to one of two long couches. Emma follows, still cautious, and settles across from him. And though she expects Killian to park it next to his brother, he sits down beside her instead, offering her the glass she’d given to him and briefly winking when she takes it.
Her stomach flips.
“Tell her,” Liam says.
Killian clears his throat. There’s almost an entire cushion between the two of them, but from how one arm is resting on the back of the couch and how one ankle is resting on his knee, his body angled towards her, she feels like he’s a lot, lot closer than he really is. His presence is stifling almost, taking up more space in the large office than should be possible.
“My brother oversees the very complex organization of Jones Commodities, built by our great grandfather. His son expanded it and our father expanded it even further. In the ten years since our father’s death, the world has changed and so have many of our subsidiaries.”
Emma knows this already. Liam Jones is the very public leader of the business, with his face often seen in the society pages going to a fundraiser or giving to charity or acquiring another business. Killian, who flies more under the radar, is the COO, directing day-to-day operations.
“We have decided that we are well overdue for an audit. Determining if subsidiaries are still loyal to the Jones Family. Examining whether they’re as productive as they need to be or if they’re dead weight. Comparing them to competitors. Double-checking the books.”
Emma is starting to get an idea of what Killian is proposing but still she looks at Liam Jones to say it aloud.
He tilts his head, making his salt-and-pepper curls sparkle in the morning light.
“We want you to conduct the audit, Miss Swan. We want you to look at everything and let us know who we need to deal with and who deserves to be rewarded.”
Her breath catches in her throat.
This is a lot. A lot.
She can see Killian’s smirk out of the corner of her vision but she’s still watching Liam, trying to detect a sign that this is all some elaborate prank. He’d really hand that information over to her? Damning information that could allow her to take down the entire Jones empire? The longer she watches Liam, the more obvious it is that he’s scrutinizing her right back. He has bright blue eyes like his brother, ones with the same ability to look at her and see right through her. She imagines he knows her every flaw, her every secret.
And whereas Killian wants to use that knowledge to make her his, Liam wants to use that knowledge to keep his kingdom intact.
“You said you wanted a challenge,” Killian says finally, breaking the spell. Emma blinks, turning her gaze back to him, and finishes her drink.
“You’d give me access to everything.” She can’t hide the disbelief from her tone.
“Aye.”
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
“Am I working largest to smallest? Or oldest to most recent?”
Killian shrugs. “Whatever you determine is best.”
A zing of power goes through her.
“Time limit?”
Killian moves a little closer, takes up a little more space, his eyes darkening.
“As long as it takes.”
And she hears his meaning behind it: All the more time to seduce you, Princess.
Liam clears his throat and Emma looks down at her empty glass, desperately willing away her pink cheeks.
“Obviously, this is an enormous undertaking.” Emma grits her teeth and looks back up with a pleasant expression to meet Liam’s eyes as he talks. “And a decision not to take lightly. You’ve been on the outside with the Golds but you wouldn’t have that freedom here. We wouldn’t abide even the suggestion of cooperating with another family. Ever.”
Emma swallows and lifts her chin. “I understand.” She’s just about to accept the offer when Liam continues.
“I want you to think about this for a few days. Decide if you could handle this responsibility and commitment.” His clear blue eyes says he knows she hadn’t been able to demonstrate much of either before. “And let me have a moment with my little brother.”
Killian huffs out of his nose. She looks over in time to see annoyance flash across his face. But he still stands and offers Emma a hand - she doesn’t take it - and steps back when Liam walks over to Emma and extends his own hand to shake.
“Thank you for your time, Miss Swan.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jones,” she murmurs.
He walks her to the heavy oak door, and when he closes it behind him she knows he expects her to step away. But Emma makes eye contact with the bodyguard chatting with a secretary, she smiles lightly and rocks on her heels, feigning nonchalance.
She’s not going anywhere.
Through the door she hears Liam speak first.
“Please tell me you’re not sleeping with her.”
“Brother, I don’t-” comes Killian’s charming tone.
“Shite,” Liam interrupts. There’s a pause. “What are you thinking?”
Killian chuckles, and though he’s probably trying to sound lighthearted, even Emma can hear the apprehension. “You don’t like her?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Emma’s heart lurches.
“That is a ringing endorsement from you, Liam.” A sigh. “And you wanted an outside perspective.”
“What I wanted was a neutral party. Not someone who will enrage the Golds.”
Killian scoffs. “They don’t give a rat’s arse about her, brother. A woman like that is capable of running the whole operation and they have her-”
Liam barks out a laugh. “Is that what it is? I tell you to stop shagging every hooker and hairdresser in town and you decide to-”
“This has nothing to do with your attempt to micromanage my love li-”
“Well it certainly hasn’t worked yet.” Another scoffing laugh. “It’s been eight years since Milah Gold died and you still haven’t learned your-”
The scrape of furniture on the floor. A grunt. Killian’s tense voice.
“Keep her name out of your mouth.” He spits each word out, slowly and purposely, and goosebumps erupt across Emma’s skin. He’s not speaking about Milah Gold as a pawn in his war with the Gold Family. The passion speaks of a still-festering wound.
But Liam’s tone is even.
“You’re putting a target on her back. Just like you did back then. With… her.”
Killian’s sigh. “I will be more careful. I will protect her.”
“And if you just leave her be, there is no need for any of that.”
The silence that meets Liam’s words stretches so long that Emma wonders if they’ve started whispering or left the room through some secret exit. But eventually someone sighs and Liam talks again.
“You’re just going to pursue her whether we hire her or not, aren’t you?” He’s exasperated. And there’s no audible response for Emma to overhear.
There’s a sound of footsteps coming toward the door, and though Emma detects there’s something else said, she takes five quick steps away and tilts her head back to peer at a massive modern art painting on the wall. It is ugly. And it makes about as much sense as everything that just happened in that office.
The opportunity of a lifetime.
Liam’s callousness.
Killian’s passion.
That passion has cooled somewhat by the time Killian bursts through the door and Emma turns to face him, trying to act like she hadn’t been listening in. He fucking lights up when he sees her - which is both terrifying and, well, nope, it’s just terrifying - and Emma feels the worst case of imposter syndrome she’s ever had in her entire life.
What’s going on here?
Like what in the literal fuck is going on?
Forget about jumping out of that car, she should just jump out of the window of Liam Jones’s top-story office. She’d fall to the ground and become a splat on the pavement, a warning to anyone else who thought that they could become something more than they really were.
She should go back to the Gold Family. Let Neal keep fucking her in the dirty way he likes - the dirty way they both like, actually, but she’s guessing Wendy Darling doesn’t - and keep working for pennies when she’s at least worth nickels.
Her heart breaks into a million pieces as she considers this imaginary future while Killian moves to her side - almost as if in slow motion. He’s got his hand right on top of her ass again as she thinks about year after year of killing herself to track down criminals and assholes and people who couldn’t find their ass with their own two hands.
She thinks about Neal paying her to keep quiet. She thinks about never getting to touch the man she’s with in public.
And then she thinks about strong hands and soft words and someone who believes in her enough to hand her the biggest secrets of his livelihood - like a fucking knife to his throat - and trusts in her to make his business better. To keep his secrets.
“I’ll do it,” Emma says, hands clenched into fists by her sides, scared because she’s taken a leap but it wasn’t the one she’d ever taken before - the one she’d ever had the opportunity to take before.
Killian blinks at her like she’d interrupted someone in the middle of a sentence. Had she?
“Do what?”
Emma turns from Killian to Liam - because she’s not sure if she’d be able to do and be what Killian seems to want from her, but she knows she can do and be what Liam wants and expects.
“I’ll do it. I’ll take the job.”
-/-
Emma’s prompt acceptance of the job offer accelerates the timeline that Killian had in place. He takes her down to his office and confiscates her phone, telling his assistant to run down to a store and get her a new one immediately. He sends her with Mullins - he’d trust no one else - to have her gather a few things from her apartment and get her to a safe house. From here on out, they have to assume that the Golds will think her a traitor and want to get revenge.
With a gentle caress of her cheek and a lingering kiss to the place his fingers had traced, Killian bids Emma farewell and promises to meet her at the safe house that evening.
The rest of his day passes uneventfully, and if not for the absence of his best bodyguard and the persistent thoughts of a blonde spitfire with tight navy trousers, it would just be an ordinary day. But with takeout in hand, at seven o’clock he steps off of the elevator with his heart in his throat and meets Mullins’ wary dark eyes.
“Oh no,” he says, already knowing he’s in for a rough report. “Is she-?”
“She has wicked fists on her, that’s what she has,” Mullins grumbles, though he’s followed Killian enough that he can pick up the respect in his tone. “And she doesn’t much like being kept inside, even if I kept telling her it was for her protection.”
Internally, Killian grimaces, but externally he nods sharply. “Good man.”
“She hasn’t tried to get past me since about one, so I dunno the state of things in there, boss.”
Killian nods again, picturing strewn furniture or destroyed flooring. But once he walks through the doors of the apartment, he finds only quiet. There are a few dishes in the sink, a few garment bags strewn on the back of the couch, but otherwise nothing out of place. Nothing unexpected. But Killian can hear noise from one bedroom and he follows the trail and cautiously opens the closed door with light streaming out from the seams into the dark hallway.
As soon as the door begins to swing open, Killian hears the familiar click of a weapon’s safety being released.
He freezes.
The door continues to open of its own volition, revealing a tall king size bed piled high with a mountain of pillows propping up a blanket-covered person. At least, he assumes it is a person, as he can make out a head - eyes focused on a television screen displaying a woman with dark hair and too much makeup being interviewed - and a hand connected to a forearm - the hand loosely holding his second-favorite pistol in the grip.
“I see you’ve made yourself at home, Princess,” Killian says dryly, trying to cover up the strange mixture of emotions he’s experiencing right now.
Panic.
Confusion.
But also a not-so-small amount of desire at the sight of Emma Swan’s hand holding one of his weapons. He’s only a man, after all.
“Interesting choice of words, Jones,” Emma says. She’s returned to last names. Not a good sign. Her other arm emerges from the blankets with a remote control in hand and she pauses the television on a grainy photograph of a smiling blonde woman holding up a chubby baby. The gun is still pointed in his general direction and then, finally, so are her eyes.
“Is there a reason you didn’t mention that the safe house you were sending me to was your fucking house?”
Killian’s hands are free, having set the takeout meal down in the kitchen. That allows him to leisurely cross his arms and lean against the door jamb, tilting his chin and giving her a sensual look through his eyelashes.
“It is poor form to threaten a man with his own gun in his own home.”
Emma scoffs. “And it’s poor form,” her mouth twists strangely around the words as she attempts - badly - to imitate his way of speaking, “to lock a woman up and not allow her to leave!”
“It was for your safety.”
“Bullshit.”
“I don’t trust that Gold won’t try to retaliate immediately, before he thinks you can snitch on-
“Bullshit,” she repeats herself, spitting out the word. “I was stuck in here without any food-”
“My pantry is paltry, but I am sure you were not starving-”
“-and some big dumb brute blocking my exit-”
“You’ll hurt Mullins’ feelings, talking like that. All three of them.”
“-and without even a fucking change of clothes!”
Killian fumbles at that one. “Pardon?” He looks around the guest room for a suitcase or a duffle bag. “I thought you were taken to your apartment to pack.”
The gun still in Emma’s hand twitches and he follows it’s trajectory to an overflowing laundry basket at the edge of the bed. He can spot the blouse she wore this morning on top of something large and navy - her trousers.
“Old foster kid trick,” Emma explains, and he notices how she has a look in her eyes as though she’s challenging him to say something disparaging about her childhood - as if this is new information for someone who scouted her out and specifically sought her. “When time is limited, grab the laundry basket. It’s usually holding all of your favorites. Plus tomorrow was supposed to be laundry day. Lucky me.”
Killian cannot help but agree. “Lucky you.” His eyes flick between the pile of clothes and Emma Swan on the bed, swaddled in blankets.
“So if your clothes are there,” he doesn’t mention the two garment bags right through the door. Mullins must have set those inside and she didn’t hear him, “then what are you wearing under there?”
Now it is Emma’s turn to freeze. He’s caught her - he’s sure of that - but how exactly he has, he isn’t sure. Emma pauses for a long minute, wheels clearly turning in her head. Killian expects her to be completely nude, and the thought stirs his already awakening cock.
But reality is even better than his imagination. With the hand that had just been holding the remote, Emma slowly pulls back a pile of blankets, revealing her body to him with that damn pistol still resting in her other palm.
She’s not naked.
Her long, strong golden legs are bare, with a scrap of black between her thighs that he believes to be a tiny pair of knickers.
But covering her breasts is a faded grey shirt with a familiar logo. INXS. His favorite band. His favorite shirt from the first time he and Liam went to see them in concert.
He’s fairly certain that his brain is short-circuiting. His thoughts all curdle and his tongue grows heavy in his mouth. All he can do is stare at the woman wearing his favorite shirt and pointing his second-favorite gun at him and wonder if there is something wrong with the way he’s feeling right now.
“You should only ever wear this,” Killian chokes out.
Ignoring the presence of a deadly weapon, Killian steps into the room, needing to touch her and kiss her and take her. He toes off his shoes and crawls into bed in his full three-piece-suit to where she’s revealed her body from beneath the blankets. His lips connect with her lips first - relieved when she returns his kiss - and then he trails his mouth down to her throat as his hand closes over the weapon she’s still holding.
“You weren’t really going to shoot me with my own weapon, were you, Princess?” he murmurs into her soft skin. She smells like his body wash - she’s showered. Recently. She arches up into his touch - involuntarily, he would guess - and the movement brushes the growing ridge of his erection against her thigh.
“Probably not,” she sighs. That isn’t a no. “I was trying to make a point.”
“And that was?” He opens his mouth, about to nibble on the sinew where neck meets shoulder, but his entire world turns upside-down. Or maybe just his body. He’s on his back on the bed, Emma perched on his stomach in knickers and his shirt, clicking the safety of the pistol back into place with practiced movements before throwing it onto the side table with a resonant thump.
“I don’t like being held hostage. And I found where your guns were.”
Without her hand holding his down, Killian goes to rest his palms on her bare thighs, gauging whether she is interested in continuing snogging or she’s concealing a knife somewhere on her person. The muscles of her thighs don’t tense when he touches her, which he takes as a good sign.
“How many did you find?” he asks, curious.
Her own hands rest lightly on his chest. “I could only crack one of the three safes I found. And five others. So six.”
Killian hums. He’s impressed. His hands slide north toward her arse. “You only missed one.” He’s not going to tell her about the last safe. Those weapons are more sentimental - family antiques. His hands cup her backside and he squeezes significantly. “I think you deserve a prize for your exceptional sleuthing.”
The way that Emma leans forward, bringing her face down to his, allows him to touch more of her shapely arse.
“I want a prize alright,” she purrs, and he knows it is a trap, but for the moment he doesn’t mind. Her eyes narrow. “I want a fucking meal,” she snaps.
“You’re in luck.” Killian playfully snaps the elastic of her knickers. “I’ve come with provisions. The food is already in the kitchen if you’d care to join me.”
She gives him a final hum of dissatisfaction and swings her legs off of him. She’s making quick work of crossing the room and Killian has to hustle to stop her before she exits, racing to the door and placing a firm hand on her hip. The dissatisfaction melds into true frustration at being kept from her goal.
“What?” she snaps.
Killian gives her a placating smile. “I think you should also know that I took the liberty of securing you a few outfit choices for this evening. They’re on the back of the couch.”
She blinks.
“Oh.”
She is clearly still unhappy, but now Killian can see the hurt behind it, something she’s unable to conceal from his focused attention.
“You need me to, like, dress up for dinner?”
Dread pools in his stomach at the expression on Emma’s face. “You misunderstand my meaning.” Killian bunches up the fabric at her hip, pulling her close to him, and uses his other hand to stroke her cheek and keep her face tilted up toward him. “Thus far, we’ve had drinks three times and fucked-” his mouth trips over the word choice, not sure if it is the right one “-twice. I had been hoping to have a proper meal with you, despite the circumstances.”
It is a beautiful thing, to witness the way her defensiveness slowly dissipates, to feel some of the tension leave her body and watch the way her eyes widen as her face softens.
“Oh.”
Dread turns to warmth.
“We’ve done this all in the wrong order, Princess.”
“I don’t-” she shrugs. “I really don’t mind, you know.” Her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. “I mean, I’m not usually the girl that guys date, ya know?”
No, Killian does not know. He takes on the tension that she’s let go of and his stomach clenches at the thought of any man - especially Neal Gold - who wouldn’t date this marvelous woman but would do other things with her. His fingers have an ironstrong grip on the fabric at her hip and he can feel the blood pounding in his head.
“Have you created that annotated list for me yet?” he asks, voice low, hand on her cheek keeping her neck tilted so that she cannot look away. “Because I have a feeling there are more names you can add.”
“Yeah?” Emma raises a challenging eyebrow.
“Yes.”
It takes all of Killian’s self-control to step back instead of pulling her even more forward - he would be just proving himself another man that treats her like a whore instead of a lady - and he kisses the back of her hand.
“Let me fetch the clothes, love. And then we can eat.”
-/-
Killian had expected Emma to wear another minuscule, tight dress like the red one she’d worn to the mixer the previous week. She’d looked fantastic in the getup and he’d fantasized about it every day since. But she surprises him when she emerges from the bedroom in a sleek jumpsuit with a plunging neckline and a structured collar that reminds him of a suit jacket. He has a sudden vision of her perched on the edge of his desk, scaring the shite out of some underling as she coolly conducts business.
The family business.
Gods.
“Perfect timing,” he says with a smile, holding out a chair at the just-set table and accepting her soft smile as she sits and lets him push her in. The candlelight dances pleasantly across her face and before he begins to eat he murmurs, “You look lovely.”
He notices how she neither accepts nor deflects the compliment. She just blushes slightly and digs into her food with a gusto that says she’d truly found his pantry wanting. He’ll have her prepare a list of favorites and get a grocery order put in before morning.
“So,” she says after a few minutes, swallowing heavily. Emma raises her fork to emphasize her words. “Do defectors always get brought to your apartment for safe keeping?” There’s a challenge in her tone. She’s mocking him.
Killian shakes his head. “No. Never.”
Emma raises an eyebrow and spears some more food. “And how long do I get to stay if I don’t fuck you again?” She’s not meeting his eyes. Emma shoves more food in her mouth and her gaze stays fixed on her plate. Killian reaches across the table and lays his palm on the back of her free hand. He won’t rise to the bait.
“Your apartment shall be ready in a few days. Some of the furnishings took longer to get here than expected, even with expedited shipping.” He squeezes her hand. “But I’ll confess that I would feel much more comfortable if you stayed here even longer, out of sight, with Mullins watching out for you. Give the Golds time to discover you’ve switched loyalty and then cool off.” His grip tightens. “If something were to happen to you under my care…”
But he cannot finish his sentence. Visions of Milah in his bed, blood pooling around her cold, lifeless body still swirl behind his eyelids. Unclenching his rigid jaw, Killian forces another bite of food into his mouth and pushes away new images of Emma’s body, Emma’s blood, Emma’s eyes staring at nothing…
“Hey.”
Emma’s soft voice draws him back into the present, back to reality, and her green eyes are softer than he’s ever seen. Her smile is soft too - a shaky, uncertain thing. And when she flips her hand and shifts so that her palm is pressing his palm into the table, his heart rate begins to even out.
“Tell me about her?”
It is obvious that she’s referring to Milah. Killian recoils.
“I told you. I wanted a proper dinner together, as best a wooing as I could manage, under the circumstances.” To discuss a former lover on a first date is very poor form.
Emma shrugs. “We’ve already done this in the wrong order. Why quit now?”
Reluctantly, Killian begins the story. He spends the next three quarters of an hour pouring out his torrid history with a rival’s wife. A woman trapped in a loveless marriage. A young man playing at being a hero. Threats. A standoff. A hit. Death. And, eventually, a reluctant peace brokered between third parties, though neither side forgot how they had been wronged. Emma listens patiently as she works her way through two takeout boxes and two glasses of wine.
She wipes at a tear when he’s finished and she finally releases his hand. His fingers have lost feeling but he never moved them.
“You love her so much.” He doesn’t miss her use of the present tense. And he doesn’t deny it.
“Aye.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her words are simple. They aren’t enough. And yet they feel like everything.
“Thank you.”
Emma drains the final inch of her wine and sets it on the table, sitting heavily back in her seat. She seems to be searching for words and he gives her the space to gather her thoughts. He picks at his food and waits.
“I told you I didn’t want to be part of your rivalry with the Golds.”
Killian looks up. Meets her eyes.
“And I…” she trails off, frowns, tucks her hair behind her ear. “I don’t want to be your do over. I don’t need to be like, saved from the Gold Family like she did. So if you’re projecting Milah on to me, you’re gonna be-”
Killian doesn’t let her finish. He stands, holding out a finger to indicate she should give him a minute, and strides across the penthouse and into his office. The file is easy to find - it is at the front, dog-eared and worn - and he brings it back to the table and dramatically drops it beside her empty takeout container.
“You said I didn’t know you.” Emma blinks. She furrows her brow. “The night we met, you told me I didn’t know you and if I did then I wouldn’t want you.” The defeated expression had haunted him since that night. Killian nods at the thick file. “That is everything I know about you, Princess, besides what you’ve told me yourself.”
He holds her gaze and lets her see his solemnity.
“I’m not in the dark. And I’m not confusing you with my Milah. And when I say I want to properly woo you and make you mine and adore you as a bloody princess - I am not confused about that either.”
Killian gathers the trash into his hands and significantly sets the wine bottle beside her empty glass.
“You’re welcome to read your file. And if my duplicity is too much or all of this is moving too fast, then the guest room is open to you. But my door shall not be locked to you, love.” Killian allows his finger a single stroke down her cheek - rejoicing when she doesn’t flinch or draw away. “And I’ll be there waiting for as long as it takes.”
Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Killian clears the kitchen and silently makes his way to his bedroom - to wait for Emma or to wait for sleep, he doesn’t know.
Distracted, Killian slips off his suit jacket but otherwise remains dressed. If he’s stark naked when Emma comes in he might scare her off, but he doesn’t want to stay dressed all night if she won’t come and maybe he should-
With a shake of his head, Killian climbs into bed and leans against the headboard and clicks on the television. He’s too restless to watch anything of note, so he finds the local news and loses himself in the monotony of stock prices and petty crimes and a child raising money to provide classmates with free lunches. He’s almost becoming engrossed in a report on a natural disaster on the other side of the country when two quiet, tentative knocks at the door make his heart leap.
“Come in.” His voice is rough and he clears his throat.
When the door swings open, it reveals a wary Emma Swan, the file clutched to her chest like a bloody shield. Her eyes don’t focus on the dimensions or decor of the bedroom - she’d already been in here, judging by her report of the guns she’d found. No, her eyes focus on him, and he waits for her to cut him down once again for his deceitfulness.
“You knew all of this when you came to recruit me?”
Killian nods. “Aye.”
He’d known that she was found abandoned by the side of the road as an infant - no record of the birthmother. Adopted by Mark and Nancy Swan, but then put back in the system at the age of three when they had a child of their own. Bounced around through the system, eventually running away from a group home at sixteen. Picked up a year later for theft and put into a juvenile detention center. After discharge, she’d reconnected with those who’d put her in and made a living with a series of con jobs and working the system.
Over a year ago she’d gotten her break with the Gold Family. Succeeded at everything they’d thrown at her. Proven herself much too clever to be shoved to the sidelines.
“And you knew all of this when you slept with me?”
He nods again. “Aye.”
There is a moment, suspended in time, a tension that feels as though it will stretch forever, where Killian waits for her dismissal, her rejection, her to storm out of his life and away from him, humiliated at being so known without her consent.
She inhales.
He prepares himself.
“And you still want to date me?”
Killian exhales.
His body feels suddenly lighter than air, as though he could float, and a smile breaks across his face as he realizes what she’s asking. As he realizes that she’d braced herself for his rejection and now, knowing that he knows more than she’s shown him, she’s beginning to realize that such a rejection is never coming. Killian clicks off the television and shakes his head.
“No.”
Emma’s face pales and she clutches her file closer. “No?”
“No.” Killian crawls across the bed toward her and then sits on the edge. “I don’t want to date you, Emma Swan.” He stands and strides toward her, the confidence coursing through his body feeling like a drug. Killian waits until he’s standing before her and then he tugs the file free and flings it carelessly onto the floor. It makes a dull thud but Killian doesn’t pay it much attention. He takes Emma’s empty hands and steps into her space, making her wrap her arms around his neck and moving his own touch to the smooth fabric of the jumpsuit at her waist. She smells like wine and takeout but also, beneath it, he can still smell his body wash, and he quietly sighs at the scent, which emboldens him to be honest with her.
“I want to possess you,” he confesses. Emma stops breathing. “I want your every waking thought to be of me, as mine have been of you. I want to shower you with praise and lavish gifts. I want to spend every night between your thighs and wake up every morning to your mouth around my cock. I want you to shout my name loud enough that Mullins has to wear earplugs.”
His fingers grip her tighter. Now he’s scared she’ll run.
“I want your opinions on our subsidiaries because I think you’ll make the Family stronger. I want you to consider the Jones Family your family. I want you and my too-serious brother to gang up on me for not being focused enough on work. I want you and my shy sister-in-law to confide in one another.”
She’s breathing again, but they are shallow, small breaths that tickle his cheek when he leans forward and whispers his final words into her ear.
“I want to take down your enemies. I want your rivals seething with jealousy when they see you by my side. I want you to see yourself as I see you.” Killian nuzzles against her, overcome by his confession, feeling both lighter and heavier for having made it.
“I want everything, Princess.”
He’s laid his cards on the table. He’s revealed his heart.
It will be too much.
Reluctantly, Killian forces his fingers to release her waist and her body tenses, stepping back and letting go of his neck. The distance between them feels like an ocean. Cold. Isolating.
He cannot read her eyes as she watches him, though he tries desperately to study her expression. Somehow, this feels like it will be the moment that changes everything.
She takes a breath.
“And what about what I want?”
The fingers that graze his cheek are trembling and Killian can finally breathe again as his chest fills with warmth.
“What do you want?” Killian leans into her touch, watching her staring at his reaction. “I’ll give it to you, I swear.”
He’ll burn the whole world down.
Emma’s finger grip the hair at the nape of his neck. Holding him in place - as though he would go anywhere. She breathes. Considers him. Speaks quietly but clearly.
“Honesty. I don’t like bullshit. Professionally or personally. Don’t lie to me about work and don’t lie to me about anything else. I don’t need smoke blown up my ass. If you’re done with me, just say you’re done, don’t fuck around.”
That armor is back up, trying to protect her before she gets hurt again. And though Killian isn’t foolish enough to believe that he won’t hurt her some day, it won’t be because he’s done with her. He just nods, letting her know he agrees to her terms. She continues, less argumentative.
“Respect. Don’t treat me like an idiot because I’m not one.”
“I would never presume.” He leans back into her touch in his hair. “Anything else?”
“I don’t want to be a dirty little secret again.” He wonders if the anger in her eyes is disguising pain. Killian’s hand clenches at his side - picturing Neal Gold’s throat in his grip. “So if you’re sneaking me in and out of your place and ignoring me at parties, then I’m not interested.”
She must be able to pick up on the way he’s now imagining flaying Neal alive. With a dull spoon. She smirks as they share the private joke.
“Good,” she says. He’s curious if her fantasies of torturing Neal are the same as his.
“But,” she continues, her grip tightening so that his head jerks slightly, “not yet. Give me a little time to get settled in or everyone will assume I got this job because I fucked you.”
And yet in Liam’s eyes, she got the job despite fucking him.
Killian opens his mouth to protest but she’s still talking.
“Plus, if we go public, then everyone in the Family treats me differently. We lose out on the chance to get an outside perspective from a newcomer if everyone is just trying to get in good with Killian Jones’s girlfriend.”
His mouth slams closed and Killian is fairly certain his brain completely short-circuits. She’s shocked him thoroughly. He doesn’t know which to address first: that she’s already considering using her position to strengthen the Family in ways she wasn’t hired to do, or that she called herself-
“My girlfriend?”
Her cheeks flush and she looks equal parts embarrassed and determined. The determination wins out when she grunts, “Yes, your girlfriend. And don’t let our temporary secret status be an excuse to keep sleeping your way through Storybrooke. Because if I found out that you fucked anyone else I’ll be greeting you with a gun again - but next time I won’t do you the courtesy of letting you hear the safety click before you walk through the door.”
Her threat - one with teeth, he knows - does nothing to dissuade his interest in her. In fact, when steps closer into her space and fits her hips against his, he delights in watching her eyes widen in realization at just how her threats affect him.
“I like jealousy,” Killian confesses. He is going to flirt outrageously with every woman in sight until she ends this farce and publicly admits to this relationship. “I get territorial as well, Princess.” His hands are on her arse, his mouth is in her hair. “What else? Tell me what else you need.”
Gods she has him begging. He’s so far gone for her.
She doesn’t move and neither does he - both of them standing in place as he paws at her backside and buries his face in her hair and waits to know how else he might please her, make her happy, do what it takes to keep her. Her breath is shallow and he wonders if she’ll let him fuck her again tonight.
She inhales. His body tenses. Her hand slides down his neck and down his chest and then both hands grasp the armholes of his waistcoat, jerking roughly.
“I was watching you at the party last week, today in the office…” she breathes into his neck. A thrill goes down Killian’s spine. Her other demands were general. This one is about him. One hand stays at his waistcoat, the other teases a path down to where he’s hard as a bloody rock. “Fuck.” She releases a needy moan that blends with his own grunt of surprise when she strokes him through his trousers. “You are so fucking dangerous and charismatic. Everyone wants you. And they’re scared of you.” Her grip tightens and he bucks up into her hand. But Emma releases him and steps away again and there’s a hunger and a power in her eyes when she meets his gaze.
“I want to watch you do what you do best. I want to help you accomplish your goals. I want a piece of the pie. I want fear and respect just the same as you.” Her chin lifts, a show of defiance, a sign that she’s asking for something she thinks is impossible. “I want to be treated like a fucking equal. Not a trophy girlfriend. Not a princess. Not someone who doesn’t understand the shit you deal with. And if you’re going to be giving me orders, then you’re gonna need to obey mine too.”
Is that all?
Killian almost scoffs in surprise, although that would ruin the impact of her speech - of her confession. He tells her to ask for anything and all she requests is equality? Respect? That is the bare minimum so far as he’s concerned. And when he calls her Princess it is not to mock or belittle her, but to show his deference, his adoration, his bloody awe. It puts her on a pedestal and makes him her worshiper - of her strength and cleverness and determination.
He gets another mental picture - this one of her on his arm at another godforsaken gala. She’s charming but ruthless, demure but blunt. Everyone is tripping over themselves to flatter her, thinking that will lead to their own promotions within the Family, but they’re deluding themselves.
Emma sees through it all. She’s seen enough of all that bullshit. She won’t be fooled.
Killian comes back to the present with a pleased smile, waiting for Emma to elaborate or add more to her requests, but she’s just watching him, eyes blazing, and so she seems to be finished. He reaches out, cupping her face in his hands, and drawing her forward one final time, tilting her head back so that he doesn’t break eye contact with her.
“No,” he says quietly, smiling blooming to a smirk when her face creases with surprise and frustration. “Well,” he clarifies, “yes to most of that - yes to all of that except one thing.” His thumb strokes the apple of her cheek, which is still flushed from her impassioned words. Holding her in place, he leans forward to kiss the pink flesh, noting the heat beneath his lips.
“The only way you stop being my princess is when you learn how to accept my praise and accolades without deflecting, ignoring, or minimizing. When you’re a good girl and let me pamper you without protestation.”
Emma’s mouth falls open in surprise. She hadn’t expected that response. He watches her bravado return, one tensed muscle at a time. She scoffs and straightens, though he still holds her close, right in front of him.
“Oh yeah? And why would I stop being your princess then?”
“Because then and only then,” Killian’s heart swells at the thought, at the image, at the future, “you are ready to be my queen.”
------
Tagging folks who might be interested - Let me know if you want on or off this list!
Characters: Emma Swan, Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Geppetto | Marco (Once Upon a Time), Alice Jones | Tilly, Elsa (Once Upon a Time)
Additional Tags: Captain Swan - Freeform, Captain Swan Regency, There Was Only One Bed. Friends to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Duke Killian Jones, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Scarred Killian Jones, Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Emma Swan
Summary:
Desperate times demand bold actions, and Emma Swan is about to pull off the ultimate gamble: faking an engagement to the elusive Duke of Hookshire to rescue her family from financial ruin. Her plan seems foolproof—until Killian Jones, London's most reclusive and mysterious nobleman, learns of his sudden engagement.
Once a celebrated figure of society, a tragedy drove Killian into self-imposed exile. Now, intrigued by the daring woman claiming to be his fiancée, he steps back into the spotlight, determined to turn the tables.
In a game where hearts are on the line, can a fabricated love affair turn real, or will the truth shatter more than just their reputations?
READ HERE: AO3
Preview:
As always, a huge thanks to my wonderful beta, @xarandomdreamx, for correcting my mistakes and encouraging me with her thoughtful comments ❤️
Look don't test me I'll block and turn off reblogs with a hair trigger if you all can't be normal about this but I do feel like it needs to be said that "do you think abortion should be allowed if the mother's reason for wanting it is—" the only acceptable answer to that question is Yes no matter what the end of that sentence is going to be. I do not care if someone wants an abortion for selfish reasons or bigoted reasons or cruel reasons or any other hypothetical strawman you can think of, there is no circumstance where someone should be denied the right to opt out of a forced pregnancy and birth. First of all, who's in charge of interrogating everyone seeking an abortion to make sure they're doing it for reasons Pure Of Heart? Second, why do you think Forced Birth is an appropriate punishment to inflict on anyone? If your answer to "should abortion be allowed when the motivation is—" is anything but an unequivocal "yes, and I don't care about the motivation" then you are not pro-choice
Yep, as a disability justice person I sometimes encounter resistance to this principle from people who are concerned about abortion being used for ableist reasons.
"Do you really think a pregnant person should be able to abort a fetus just for having Down's Syndrome?" people ask. Or just for having some genetic markers for Autism?
And my answer to that, always, is I don't think a child should be forced to be born to a parent that does not want them. And I don't believe a parent should be forced to give birth to a child they are not prepared for and do not want.
Is it ableist for a pregnant person to not want a disabled child? Sure, but I find myself far less interested in the purity or impurity of the pregnant person's morals than I am in the fact that disabled people and their families are provided almost no resources in society and are excluded for nearly every area of public life. There are many reasons why a parent might not want to give birth to a disabled child, or feel unprepared to raise them, that go far beyond that parent's own personal prejudices. And even those prejudices are informed by economic, legal, and social structures that make it very difficult, expensive, and isolating to raise a disabled child.
Furthermore, I don't care if any person gets an abortion for the right or wrong reasons because I do not think there should be some outside body that decides what a legitimate reason for seeking an abortion is. Who is going to determine whether a pregnant person is seeking abortion for the "right" reasons? Will it be the government? Which government, state or local? Will it be a social worker? A doctor? An ethics board? I don't trust any institution to determine whether someone is seeking an abortion for the right reasons or not, and I don't think it would ever be possible to institute laws that would prevent "unjust" or "immoral" abortions alone. Even if it were possible to magically only prevent abortions among people with horrifically bigoted views, I would oppose it, because as OP said, I do not believe in forced birth.
It really is that simple. And the same principles apply to a panoply of political issues that are needlessly concerned with an individual person's mental state or motives. Who cares why one individual person is doing what they do. Look to the economic forces, the demands, the resources, the needs not being met, and you will see the logic behind people's behavior. There's no need to legislate away a person thinking the wrong thoughts.
you don't fix eugenics by legislating away bodily autonomy. You fix it by encouraging people to think of everyone who is different to them as valuable human beings.
In the days that followed Emma and Mary Margaret's return home, David knew that something had changed. His daughter had a glow about her, though he really didn't want to hear why that was. But she also seemed sadder than ever.
“What happened, Sweetheart? Did you not have a good time away?” David asked his daughter one day a few weeks after the trip to Dublin.
“It was… perfect Dad. I met someone, but then we had to leave. I miss him so much.”
“Oh. So this young man passed the test of both your mother and Ruby? He must be special.” David knew that when his wife and friend got their heads together they were quite the formidable pair. For this man to get close to Emma, he must be very special. “Do I get to know a name?”
“It's Killian, and yes they liked him too. He's actually Elsa’s boyfriend's younger brother. But, I mean how can I see him again? I'm heading off to uni again soon and he's based in Dublin. It's not fair!”
David listened patiently. When it came to matters of the heart, Emma took after him. She was melodramatic whereas Mary Margaret was calm and full of hope.
However, since he and Emma were so alike, David knew exactly how to keep his daughter's spirits up. “I know what this calls for. Chips with lashings of salt and vinegar. Let's go eat them on the beach. You always feel better after a walk and food.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
The North East sea breeze allowed Emma to realise that if she wanted to be with Killian, she needed to stop just messaging him and surprise him with a video call.
“Hi,” Emma greeted Killian with a quiet voice, the sound of the waves in the background drowning out her voice.
“Emma, bloody hell love. You're a sight for sore eyes.” Killian greeted Emma with a beaming smile.
They talked for over an hour making firm plans to facetime weekly.
~♡~
As they talked, Killian looked at the features behind Emma. He was certain they looked familiar but couldn't figure out why. It wasn't until after they'd hung up that it clicked.
Liam was making the family dinner when all of a sudden he heard Killian let out an almighty woop from his bedroom. “What the devil? Killian, are you ok?”
Killian raced down the stairs, grabbed Liam and gave him a loud smacker of a kiss on his right cheek. “Ok, brother? More than ok, I'm bloody fantastic! You know why?”
Liam pushed him away as Stephen laughed loudly from the kitchen table. “What the…? I'm not a mind reader Killian, so I don't know what's made you so joyful. And if it's anything of a personal nature between you and your girl, nor do we want to know. Right Stevo?”
“Aye,” Stephen replied, shuddering.
“Twats. It is to do with Emma, but not like that! I've worked out where she lives.”
Liam stared at him, open mouthed. “Seriously Killian. You really are an eejit. I could have told you that if you'd only thought to ask instead of having yer head stuck up yer arse.”
Killian’s face turned red. His brother was right, of course. Emma and Elsa were friends so Liam was bound to know where she hailed from. “Oh… excuse me whilst I just disappear to think this through.”
“Well don't take too long. Dinner’s in ten minutes. But I do wonder one thing, Killian. Will you let her know?”
“Not sure.”
“I think you should,” Stephen called after his older brother. He rolled his eyes when he didn't get a response. “Eejit.”
~♡~
Elsa smiled to herself. When she first met Liam, and then his two younger brothers, she knew they all had a cheeky side to them. But the Irish charm always won in the end. And after the conversation she'd just had with Killian she could tell that he was perfect for her closest friend. He wanted to plan a trip across to see her, but when she'd told him of their plans for later that year he was floored.
“Truly, Elsa. You're not shitting with me are you?” Killian asked.
“No, Killian. I'm serious.”
“I need you to do me a favour, please. Can you keep this a secret?”
Elsa hated keeping things from her friend, but this was too good for her to find out. So she promised and between them they made a plan on how he would surprise Emma later that September.
~♡~
Emma left home again for her second go at university. This time she was hopeful for a better time. She had Killian just a phone call away and felt more confident than ever thanks to what she'd been through. She opted to drive the relatively short distance from her hometown to the University Accommodation in late September.
While she hated saying goodbye to her mum and dad, she had to admit it wasn't too bad moving away from home. For starters, she still had her best friend, Elsa, with her. They'd grown even closer over the last few months with their shared support for each other's long distance relationship with the Jones brothers. Emma was thrilled when Elsa surprised her one day when she told her that she was also going to do some studying at Newcastle University.
Emma had spent most of the day unpacking, looking around the suburb where her accommodation was and checking out her timetable. She was planning a quiet night in, but it seemed like Elsa and her other housemates had other ideas.
“Come on, it'll be fun. Besides they've put on some live music at the Students Union Bar that's meant to be great,” Tink said, linking arms with her.
Elsa shrugged her shoulders. “You know how I feel.”
Emma groaned. “Fine. Let me chuck some makeup on and find my boots.”
Tink and Elsa high fived each other and waited by the door for her.
The group arrived and Emma had to admit that the vibe was good. Maybe her friends were right to get her out.
From the other side of the room, a man watched as the ladies took their seats. He smiled to himself especially when she separated herself from the rest of the group and made her way to the bar. He moved with ease towards the band and requested they play his song now. They were mates of his so they gave him the thumbs up. The man then moved towards the bar.
Emma had just ordered herself a Jameson and Coke when she heard the opening beats of ‘Breathless’ being played by the live band. All of a sudden she was right back in that Dublin bar with the images of Killian dancing rushing through her mind's eye. It threw her off so much she missed the bartender saying how much it would cost.
“I'll pay for her drink and I'll take the same for myself, mate.”
Emma tensed up, not daring to turn around. “Killian?”
“Aye, my love.”
“But, how? Why are you here?” Emma was so confused but elated to see her long distance boyfriend standing in the flesh right in front of her.
“I’m here, doing my PhD in Engineering.” He laughed, pushing a tear from her eye. “Can I presume that you're a student here too?”
“Yes, I'm just starting a Masters degree in Psychology. How come you didn't say this is where you study. I just assumed you were at Dublin University.”
“Well Nolan, we did have other things on our mind when we first met, and I suppose since then we've kept it that way,” he said, winking at her and laughing when she turned red.
Since the pair parted, they'd contacted each other daily and when they'd had a quiet moment they'd explored the world of phone sex.
“I really missed you, you idiot. I can't believe we didn't tell each other we were both coming here.”
“I've missed you too, love. More than you'll ever know.” Killian pulled her in for a hug, careful not to spill any drinks this time. “Now, as much as I love this song, how about we head somewhere quieter and catch up properly.”
“Sounds great. Let me just go and let the girls know where I'm going,” Emma said to Killian with a giggle. “I still can't believe that you're here, and that you found me just as that song started to play. I mean what are the… wait a minute. Did you plan this?”
Killian panicked and went to itch behind his ear. “Aye, but I had a little help.”
“Let me guess, Elsa?” When Killian nodded in confirmation, Emma smiled and kissed him. “I love you.”
“Truly?”
“Yes, now let me buy Elsa a drink to say thank you and I'll introduce you to my other friends.” Now that they were reunited, she didn't want to be parted again.
After handing Elsa a crisp, dry white wine, Emma made a quick round of introductions to Tink and Wendy, who whooped loudly when Killian grew impatient and dragged her away.
On their way out of the bar Killian saw his mates. “Oy,” he called across to them, giving them a wave. “Robin, Will, this is my girlfriend, Emma.”
After the quickest of greetings, Emma was pulled out into the cold night air. “So what now?”
“My place is closer.” Killian was already walking in the direction of where his house was. “I assure you we'll talk about this all, but I need you. And bloody hell love, if I don't have you soon I'll go crazy.”
Luckily for both of them Killian didn't live too far away from the main University campus. It was a lovely Edwardian style house that Emma would come to appreciate on another occasion when she wasn't desperately needing to be inside it with Killian. Once they were in, Killian took her straight to his room where they reacquainted themselves with each other.
Multiple times.
~♡~
Over the days, weeks and months that followed their reunion, Emma and Killian fell into a routine that would rival the most established of relationships. When they weren't in lectures, tutorials or studying in the library, they explored the local sites of the vibrant city.
Emma was particularly fond of the Quayside and the bridges that encompassed the river joining the two local cities together.
The first time David met Killian Emma grew worried, not because her dad didn't like Killian. Oh no, the bromance the two men formed had Emma and her mum jealous.
“Fear not, my love,” Killian assured Emma. “My heart lies with you for as long as you'll have it.”
“Good,” she replied every time.
~♡~
One day, Robin contacted Emma out of the blue. He sent her a video of two brothers Irish dancing to pop songs.
Robin: We need to encourage Killian to do something similar. He would go viral. 🕺
After watching the video, and scrolling through all the ones they'd posted, she contacted Robin back.
Emma: Fuck yeah. He's just as good as them. It would celebrate this city and keep him dancing. How do we convince him?
Robin: Baby steps. He's not the most into his social media. Good job we know someone who is. Will agrees we should do the videos and he has the equipment and knowledge to edit them. I'm sure we would need to make sure we have the relevant permissions in place from the council and for the music licence. Leave that to me and my girlfriend Gina to sort. Do you think you can convince Killian???
Emma: Absolutely. Between getting his brothers back in Dublin involved, Elsa can be persuasive and I can use various ways to convince him.
Robin: Love it… just please don't tell me how you convince him. Friends need some secrets.
Emma: 😉
~♡~
It was a beautiful crisp spring evening, a few days after the conversation with Robin, when Emma decided to broach the subject with Killian. They were on a date at a riverside bar and the lights off the many bridges that crossed the river had just lit up. “You know how I find your dancing hot, right?”
Killian smirked, and with a sparkle in his eyes moved closer to his girlfriend. “Aye, love. I believe we've established that fact. Why are you bringing this up now though? Do you want me to put on a show for these lovely folk?” He gestured around him laughing.
“Well not right now, and not here. But one evening and out there on the Quayside itself. Imagine Killian, the stunning bridges as a background, you dancing to whatever music. You'd be sensational. And not just here, but up in the centre of the city itself, and all along the coastline showing off the stunning beaches.”
“You're bloody serious aren't you?”
Emma nodded. “All you have to do is say yes and there's a team of willing friends standing by to make it happen.”
Killian looked around quietly. He knew Emma was right. Newcastle was a city that needed showing off and what better way than with his dancing skills. But it was obvious she'd been sneaky. He decided to have a little fun before giving her the answer they both knew he'd give in the end. “And what if I say no. Would you try to convince me?”
Grabbing him by his collar, she hauled him to her supple lips, kissing him firmly with just the hint of tongue along the seams of their mouths.
“As nice as that was, you'll have to try harder than that.”
Emma downed her drink and encouraged Killian to do the same. Then moving as swiftly as she could out of the bustling bar, she pulled him along with her. Outside Emma took out her phone and ordered an Uber.
Killian watched in silence as Emma tapped her foot impatiently. Then just as he was about to ask her what, or who, gave her the idea she announced that the taxi was arriving.
Back at her flat Emma was true to her word and convinced Killian that he should make the videos.
In fact as Killian lay under his goddess of a girlfriend, he promised her that he'd never doubt her ideas again.
They came together several more times that night, and it was only the following morning before Emma was able to show Killian the messages and videos that Robin had sent her.
Killian fell in love with her a little more that day. He couldn't wait to start making the videos and elicit the help of his friends one day to make his own unique video.
~♡~
Sure enough when Regina pitched the idea to the council they loved the idea of having their city being used in this way.
The first video Killian made on the Quayside went viral and made him an internet star overnight. Killian hated it but his love of the dance outweighed the stardom.
~♡~
A few years later, Emma and Killian were sitting in their living room in the house they now owned.
When Emma's phone pinged with an incoming message she ignored it.
“Are you not going to open it? Killian asked, with a grin.
Emma's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she did as requested. The message was from Killian. Her boyfriend who was sitting snuggled up next to her. “Why are you messaging me?”
“Do you trust me?”
“As if you have to ask.”
“Then open it.”
Emma clicked on the link to open the video. She saw Killian, all the old band, Liam, Elsa, and her parents. “What is this, Killian?”
He rolled his eyes. “Just watch.”
The music started and Killian started to dance to Bruno Mars, Marry You. In each of her family and close friends' hands was a sign that said, “Will you marry me?” When the video came to an end, Killian was down on one knee.
“Emma Nolan. From the moment I saw you from across the street in Dublin, my heart has been yours. I love you. Will you please do me the greatest honour and become my wife?”
Emma nodded, so overwhelmed with emotion that for once she was lost for words. It was only when she felt his hands gently wiping tears from her face that she was brought back to reality. “I love you so damn much, Killian Jones. I can't believe you did that. How did you get my mum to keep a secret?”
Killian laughed loudly at that, feeling so euphoric as he told his fiancée how the plan unfolded, with Mary Margaret being the final one to be told. “Truth be told, darling, we only shot it yesterday. Oh and it's for our eyes only this one. Now, I did promise your lovely mum that when I asked you, she'd be the first person you'd call. We’d best be making that call. Settle her mind that I've followed through with my promise to join our families together.”
And so with a glittering princess cut nine carat diamond surrounded by emeralds, Emma called her family to give them the good news.
~♡~
They were married a year later and began a life filled with love, laughter, and of course lots of dancing.
Killian went on to use his engineering degree and became a bridge engineer specialist. He also taught Irish dancing in his spare time.
Liam ended up moving to Newcastle to be with Elsa and co-owned the dance school with his brothers.
As for Emma? She'd never been so grateful to have taken that chance on happiness all those years ago on that night in Dublin. It not only healed her pain, but brought her a new family to coexist with her own, and a new found confidence that she uses in her daily job.
Oh, and it also brought her their feisty toddler who was currently trying to learn Irish dancing to copy her uncles.
Laughing, they all agreed that life was the best it had ever been.
In the days that followed Emma and Mary Margaret's return home, David knew that something had changed. His daughter had a glow about her, though he really didn't want to hear why that was. But she also seemed sadder than ever.
“What happened, Sweetheart? Did you not have a good time away?” David asked his daughter one day a few weeks after the trip to Dublin.
“It was… perfect Dad. I met someone, but then we had to leave. I miss him so much.”
“Oh. So this young man passed the test of both your mother and Ruby? He must be special.” David knew that when his wife and friend got their heads together they were quite the formidable pair. For this man to get close to Emma, he must be very special. “Do I get to know a name?”
“It's Killian, and yes they liked him too. He's actually Elsa’s boyfriend's younger brother. But, I mean how can I see him again? I'm heading off to uni again soon and he's based in Dublin. It's not fair!”
David listened patiently. When it came to matters of the heart, Emma took after him. She was melodramatic whereas Mary Margaret was calm and full of hope.
However, since he and Emma were so alike, David knew exactly how to keep his daughter's spirits up. “I know what this calls for. Chips with lashings of salt and vinegar. Let's go eat them on the beach. You always feel better after a walk and food.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
The North East sea breeze allowed Emma to realise that if she wanted to be with Killian, she needed to stop just messaging him and surprise him with a video call.
“Hi,” Emma greeted Killian with a quiet voice, the sound of the waves in the background drowning out her voice.
“Emma, bloody hell love. You're a sight for sore eyes.” Killian greeted Emma with a beaming smile.
They talked for over an hour making firm plans to facetime weekly.
~♡~
As they talked, Killian looked at the features behind Emma. He was certain they looked familiar but couldn't figure out why. It wasn't until after they'd hung up that it clicked.
Liam was making the family dinner when all of a sudden he heard Killian let out an almighty woop from his bedroom. “What the devil? Killian, are you ok?”
Killian raced down the stairs, grabbed Liam and gave him a loud smacker of a kiss on his right cheek. “Ok, brother? More than ok, I'm bloody fantastic! You know why?”
Liam pushed him away as Stephen laughed loudly from the kitchen table. “What the…? I'm not a mind reader Killian, so I don't know what's made you so joyful. And if it's anything of a personal nature between you and your girl, nor do we want to know. Right Stevo?”
“Aye,” Stephen replied, shuddering.
“Twats. It is to do with Emma, but not like that! I've worked out where she lives.”
Liam stared at him, open mouthed. “Seriously Killian. You really are an eejit. I could have told you that if you'd only thought to ask instead of having yer head stuck up yer arse.”
Killian’s face turned red. His brother was right, of course. Emma and Elsa were friends so Liam was bound to know where she hailed from. “Oh… excuse me whilst I just disappear to think this through.”
“Well don't take too long. Dinner’s in ten minutes. But I do wonder one thing, Killian. Will you let her know?”
“Not sure.”
“I think you should,” Stephen called after his older brother. He rolled his eyes when he didn't get a response. “Eejit.”
~♡~
Elsa smiled to herself. When she first met Liam, and then his two younger brothers, she knew they all had a cheeky side to them. But the Irish charm always won in the end. And after the conversation she'd just had with Killian she could tell that he was perfect for her closest friend. He wanted to plan a trip across to see her, but when she'd told him of their plans for later that year he was floored.
“Truly, Elsa. You're not shitting with me are you?” Killian asked.
“No, Killian. I'm serious.”
“I need you to do me a favour, please. Can you keep this a secret?”
Elsa hated keeping things from her friend, but this was too good for her to find out. So she promised and between them they made a plan on how he would surprise Emma later that September.
~♡~
Emma left home again for her second go at university. This time she was hopeful for a better time. She had Killian just a phone call away and felt more confident than ever thanks to what she'd been through. She opted to drive the relatively short distance from her hometown to the University Accommodation in late September.
While she hated saying goodbye to her mum and dad, she had to admit it wasn't too bad moving away from home. For starters, she still had her best friend, Elsa, with her. They'd grown even closer over the last few months with their shared support for each other's long distance relationship with the Jones brothers. Emma was thrilled when Elsa surprised her one day when she told her that she was also going to do some studying at Newcastle University.
Emma had spent most of the day unpacking, looking around the suburb where her accommodation was and checking out her timetable. She was planning a quiet night in, but it seemed like Elsa and her other housemates had other ideas.
“Come on, it'll be fun. Besides they've put on some live music at the Students Union Bar that's meant to be great,” Tink said, linking arms with her.
Elsa shrugged her shoulders. “You know how I feel.”
Emma groaned. “Fine. Let me chuck some makeup on and find my boots.”
Tink and Elsa high fived each other and waited by the door for her.
The group arrived and Emma had to admit that the vibe was good. Maybe her friends were right to get her out.
From the other side of the room, a man watched as the ladies took their seats. He smiled to himself especially when she separated herself from the rest of the group and made her way to the bar. He moved with ease towards the band and requested they play his song now. They were mates of his so they gave him the thumbs up. The man then moved towards the bar.
Emma had just ordered herself a Jameson and Coke when she heard the opening beats of ‘Breathless’ being played by the live band. All of a sudden she was right back in that Dublin bar with the images of Killian dancing rushing through her mind's eye. It threw her off so much she missed the bartender saying how much it would cost.
“I'll pay for her drink and I'll take the same for myself, mate.”
Emma tensed up, not daring to turn around. “Killian?”
“Aye, my love.”
“But, how? Why are you here?” Emma was so confused but elated to see her long distance boyfriend standing in the flesh right in front of her.
“I’m here, doing my PhD in Engineering.” He laughed, pushing a tear from her eye. “Can I presume that you're a student here too?”
“Yes, I'm just starting a Masters degree in Psychology. How come you didn't say this is where you study. I just assumed you were at Dublin University.”
“Well Nolan, we did have other things on our mind when we first met, and I suppose since then we've kept it that way,” he said, winking at her and laughing when she turned red.
Since the pair parted, they'd contacted each other daily and when they'd had a quiet moment they'd explored the world of phone sex.
“I really missed you, you idiot. I can't believe we didn't tell each other we were both coming here.”
“I've missed you too, love. More than you'll ever know.” Killian pulled her in for a hug, careful not to spill any drinks this time. “Now, as much as I love this song, how about we head somewhere quieter and catch up properly.”
“Sounds great. Let me just go and let the girls know where I'm going,” Emma said to Killian with a giggle. “I still can't believe that you're here, and that you found me just as that song started to play. I mean what are the… wait a minute. Did you plan this?”
Killian panicked and went to itch behind his ear. “Aye, but I had a little help.”
“Let me guess, Elsa?” When Killian nodded in confirmation, Emma smiled and kissed him. “I love you.”
“Truly?”
“Yes, now let me buy Elsa a drink to say thank you and I'll introduce you to my other friends.” Now that they were reunited, she didn't want to be parted again.
After handing Elsa a crisp, dry white wine, Emma made a quick round of introductions to Tink and Wendy, who whooped loudly when Killian grew impatient and dragged her away.
On their way out of the bar Killian saw his mates. “Oy,” he called across to them, giving them a wave. “Robin, Will, this is my girlfriend, Emma.”
After the quickest of greetings, Emma was pulled out into the cold night air. “So what now?”
“My place is closer.” Killian was already walking in the direction of where his house was. “I assure you we'll talk about this all, but I need you. And bloody hell love, if I don't have you soon I'll go crazy.”
Luckily for both of them Killian didn't live too far away from the main University campus. It was a lovely Edwardian style house that Emma would come to appreciate on another occasion when she wasn't desperately needing to be inside it with Killian. Once they were in, Killian took her straight to his room where they reacquainted themselves with each other.
Multiple times.
~♡~
Over the days, weeks and months that followed their reunion, Emma and Killian fell into a routine that would rival the most established of relationships. When they weren't in lectures, tutorials or studying in the library, they explored the local sites of the vibrant city.
Emma was particularly fond of the Quayside and the bridges that encompassed the river joining the two local cities together.
The first time David met Killian Emma grew worried, not because her dad didn't like Killian. Oh no, the bromance the two men formed had Emma and her mum jealous.
“Fear not, my love,” Killian assured Emma. “My heart lies with you for as long as you'll have it.”
“Good,” she replied every time.
~♡~
One day, Robin contacted Emma out of the blue. He sent her a video of two brothers Irish dancing to pop songs.
Robin: We need to encourage Killian to do something similar. He would go viral. 🕺
After watching the video, and scrolling through all the ones they'd posted, she contacted Robin back.
Emma: Fuck yeah. He's just as good as them. It would celebrate this city and keep him dancing. How do we convince him?
Robin: Baby steps. He's not the most into his social media. Good job we know someone who is. Will agrees we should do the videos and he has the equipment and knowledge to edit them. I'm sure we would need to make sure we have the relevant permissions in place from the council and for the music licence. Leave that to me and my girlfriend Gina to sort. Do you think you can convince Killian???
Emma: Absolutely. Between getting his brothers back in Dublin involved, Elsa can be persuasive and I can use various ways to convince him.
Robin: Love it… just please don't tell me how you convince him. Friends need some secrets.
Emma: 😉
~♡~
It was a beautiful crisp spring evening, a few days after the conversation with Robin, when Emma decided to broach the subject with Killian. They were on a date at a riverside bar and the lights off the many bridges that crossed the river had just lit up. “You know how I find your dancing hot, right?”
Killian smirked, and with a sparkle in his eyes moved closer to his girlfriend. “Aye, love. I believe we've established that fact. Why are you bringing this up now though? Do you want me to put on a show for these lovely folk?” He gestured around him laughing.
“Well not right now, and not here. But one evening and out there on the Quayside itself. Imagine Killian, the stunning bridges as a background, you dancing to whatever music. You'd be sensational. And not just here, but up in the centre of the city itself, and all along the coastline showing off the stunning beaches.”
“You're bloody serious aren't you?”
Emma nodded. “All you have to do is say yes and there's a team of willing friends standing by to make it happen.”
Killian looked around quietly. He knew Emma was right. Newcastle was a city that needed showing off and what better way than with his dancing skills. But it was obvious she'd been sneaky. He decided to have a little fun before giving her the answer they both knew he'd give in the end. “And what if I say no. Would you try to convince me?”
Grabbing him by his collar, she hauled him to her supple lips, kissing him firmly with just the hint of tongue along the seams of their mouths.
“As nice as that was, you'll have to try harder than that.”
Emma downed her drink and encouraged Killian to do the same. Then moving as swiftly as she could out of the bustling bar, she pulled him along with her. Outside Emma took out her phone and ordered an Uber.
Killian watched in silence as Emma tapped her foot impatiently. Then just as he was about to ask her what, or who, gave her the idea she announced that the taxi was arriving.
Back at her flat Emma was true to her word and convinced Killian that he should make the videos.
In fact as Killian lay under his goddess of a girlfriend, he promised her that he'd never doubt her ideas again.
They came together several more times that night, and it was only the following morning before Emma was able to show Killian the messages and videos that Robin had sent her.
Killian fell in love with her a little more that day. He couldn't wait to start making the videos and elicit the help of his friends one day to make his own unique video.
~♡~
Sure enough when Regina pitched the idea to the council they loved the idea of having their city being used in this way.
The first video Killian made on the Quayside went viral and made him an internet star overnight. Killian hated it but his love of the dance outweighed the stardom.
~♡~
A few years later, Emma and Killian were sitting in their living room in the house they now owned.
When Emma's phone pinged with an incoming message she ignored it.
“Are you not going to open it? Killian asked, with a grin.
Emma's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she did as requested. The message was from Killian. Her boyfriend who was sitting snuggled up next to her. “Why are you messaging me?”
“Do you trust me?”
“As if you have to ask.”
“Then open it.”
Emma clicked on the link to open the video. She saw Killian, all the old band, Liam, Elsa, and her parents. “What is this, Killian?”
He rolled his eyes. “Just watch.”
The music started and Killian started to dance to Bruno Mars, Marry You. In each of her family and close friends' hands was a sign that said, “Will you marry me?” When the video came to an end, Killian was down on one knee.
“Emma Nolan. From the moment I saw you from across the street in Dublin, my heart has been yours. I love you. Will you please do me the greatest honour and become my wife?”
Emma nodded, so overwhelmed with emotion that for once she was lost for words. It was only when she felt his hands gently wiping tears from her face that she was brought back to reality. “I love you so damn much, Killian Jones. I can't believe you did that. How did you get my mum to keep a secret?”
Killian laughed loudly at that, feeling so euphoric as he told his fiancée how the plan unfolded, with Mary Margaret being the final one to be told. “Truth be told, darling, we only shot it yesterday. Oh and it's for our eyes only this one. Now, I did promise your lovely mum that when I asked you, she'd be the first person you'd call. We’d best be making that call. Settle her mind that I've followed through with my promise to join our families together.”
And so with a glittering princess cut nine carat diamond surrounded by emeralds, Emma called her family to give them the good news.
~♡~
They were married a year later and began a life filled with love, laughter, and of course lots of dancing.
Killian went on to use his engineering degree and became a bridge engineer specialist. He also taught Irish dancing in his spare time.
Liam ended up moving to Newcastle to be with Elsa and co-owned the dance school with his brothers.
As for Emma? She'd never been so grateful to have taken that chance on happiness all those years ago on that night in Dublin. It not only healed her pain, but brought her a new family to coexist with her own, and a new found confidence that she uses in her daily job.
Oh, and it also brought her their feisty toddler who was currently trying to learn Irish dancing to copy her uncles.
Laughing, they all agreed that life was the best it had ever been.
Characters: Emma Swan, Captain Hook | Killian Jones
Additional Tags: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Sharing a Bed, There Was Only One Bed, Trapped by Weather, Touch-Starved, Killian Jones Has Self-Worth Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Soft Emma Swan, Slow Burn, Scars
Summary: In which Killian meets his match in stubbornness for perhaps the hundredth time, and Emma questions his definition of "fine." (Enchanted Forest AU)
