Hi there! I'm Jennifer. Thanks for stopping by! I'm semi-obsessed (okay, fully obsessed ;-p) with all things OUAT. Captain Swan is my otp of otps, but I'm also quite fond of Outlaw Queen, the Charming family, Captain Cobra and Captain Charming...
Fluffy Fridays--Chapter 178: Because of the Werewolves
Summary: A series of unrelated, fluffy one shots featuring Killian Jones and Emma Swan and the relationship that makes us all swoon. Will contain both canon and AU stories. My contribution to Operation Rainbow Kisses and Unicorn Stickers (aka, my attempt to drown out the season 4 finale angst with ridiculous levels of fluff.)
Other Chapters: (from the beginning) (previous chapter)
Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list): @sailormew4 @annaamell @flslp87 @emmateo26 @bethacaciakay
Emma looked up from her mug of hot cocoa and rolled her eyes at Leroy’s announcement from the door of Granny’s. The day had started so normal. She and Killian had hit the snooze button a few too many times to simply enjoy cuddling in bed before starting the day.
“Shouldn’t we be rising, Swan?” he’d ask, sleepily caressing her back as he held her.
She’d cuddled deeper into the covers and closer to him and then shook her head. “Why? Hope probably won’t be up for another hour or so, and ever since we broke the curse and the realms were united and everything, our job has been a piece of cake. I’m sure Graham can handle it for a few more minutes.”
He hadn’t objected. He rarely did, when her suggestions involved more time together–especially more time together in bed.
It had been a good ten years since Henry had found her in New York. By this point, she should have known better than to tempt fate by calling her job a piece of cake.
She was just about to ask Leroy to elaborate, when Leroy turned tail and ran back outside.
“Looks like duty calls,” she said with another roll of her eyes and a quick kiss to her husband’s lips and her baby’s head before heading in the direction of the sheriff’s station.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Can you put out a town notice?” Ruby was asking as Emma stepped into the sheriff’s station, her family behind her.
“What about?” Graham asked, taking a sip of his coffee.
“That setting fires is still not the way to stop werewolves,” she said. “Also, while you’re at it, remind them that we werewolves didn’t do…whatever it is they’re accusing us of doing now.”
Graham sighed. “How many acres was it this time?”
“Forty!” Ruby said. “Do you have any idea how much of a pain in the ass forty acres worth of forest fire is for wolves and their sensitive noses? It’s annoying!”
“Come again?” Killian asked, draping his coat on the coat rack and sitting near his wife. “The recent wildfires are due to WHAT?”
Graham, pinched the bridge of his nose. “I blame Nottingham. He’s the one that started all of this with his drunken ramblings.”
“Yeah, there was that one time he barged into Doc’s allergy clinic waiting room, ranting and raving about how the wildfires were because of werewolves,” Ruby said with an annoyed huff. “Said something about how fire was the only way to destroy us. You’d think they’d have learned by now it’s silver that’s our Kryptonite.” After a moments' thought, she amended, “Actually, scrap that. The silver thing is something they totally don’t need to know.”
“Looks like as United Realms Forest Ranger, this falls under your jurisdiction, Graham,” Emma grinned. “I’ve retired as Savior. Idiotic forest werewolf hunts are no longer my problem.”
Graham reached for his cell phone and punched in the mayor’s number. “I’d hoped when Queen Regina and her ‘evil’ twin turned back time and reversed my murder, bringing me back to a post-Happy Beginning world, that I would finally have a nice, peaceful existence, but it looks like that was too much to ask.”
Killian grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. “Whatever would give you that idea, mate? Do you even remember where you live?”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Notes: Hi there! Remember me? I know it’s been 84 years, but I am, in fact, still alive.
–The smoke from the recent Canadian wildfires has made air quality in the upper Midwest really bad. My lungs do not recommend. It reminded me of going to the allergist once during a similar Canadian wildfire, and an old man coming in and telling the waiting room that clearly the fires are the fault of werewolves. Everyone knows the only way to kill them is by fire, so obviously the wildfires are due to hunters killing them. It was so ridiculous I’ve already written one fanfic about it–but I needed a new one.
–Also, this story is short and ridiculous and doesn’t really go anywhere, but given the fact I think I’ve written a grand total of one sentence worth of fanfic all year, I needed to do SOMETHING to wake the muse up, at least a little!
–Obviously, this is a “future fic”, and I wanted Graham to be alive because….well, just because, so I brought him back. I made a small effort to explain how it’s possible, but the real reasons? 1. Because….magic. 2. His death was stupid and I refuse to acknowledge its existence in canon.
STORY SUMMARY: Desperate to save her beloved dogs when her ex-boyfriend makes threats against them, Emma Swan takes Killian Jones up on his offer to foster them.
RATING: M (for language, verbal abuse and gun violence)
WORDS: 4213 of 18,700 (6 chapters and a short epilogue)
Catch up with the story on Tumblr - Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4
Can also be read on Ao3
Chapter begins under the cut
*********
“Killian!” Emma screamed, covering her face with her hands.
“I’m right here, Love.” Relief flooded through her at the sound of his voice. She opened her eyes to see him crawling toward her, avoiding Neal’s crumpled body on the floor. He pulled her into his arms, while several police officers rushed past them.
“Are you two okay?”
Emma looked up to see Mary Margaret’s boyfriend David Nolan looking at her with concern. “What happened?” she croaked.
“Officer Nolan just saved your life,” another officer reported.
“You shot Neal?” she asked.
“Only because he was threatening to shoot both of you,” David explained.
“Is he…dead?”
David threw a questioning look at one of the men squatting beside Neal. The officer nodded. “Looks like we’re gonna need the coroner.”
Emma buried her face in Killian’s neck, trying to block out the sight of the steadily increasing pool of blood spreading out underneath her ex. Killian’s arms tightened around her as she gave into her sobs.
*********
Killian held Emma’s shaking body, his own rush of adrenaline slowly ebbing away. He felt like he hadn’t taken a single breath since he looked through the window to see Cassidy slap Emma.
After several minutes, her sobs began to subside and he heard her whimper something against his throat. “What’s that, Love?”
“My babies. They must be so scared.”
He hadn’t thought about the dogs, but was honestly glad to have an excuse to get her out of the house. The atmosphere was completely chaotic with noise from police radios, officers collecting evidence and taking photos, and sirens outside signaling the arrival of more first responders. Slowly he got to his feet, not releasing his hold on her. “Let’s go check on them,” he murmured. Keeping her tucked tightly against him, he steered her past Neal’s body and out the back door.
Once they were outside, Killian reluctantly let Emma go. As he watched her snuggling with Sophie and Oscar, it hit him that he could have lost her if the police hadn’t arrived in time. Just the thought of it made his heart ache. In that moment he realized that his feelings for her had gone beyond friendship. Far beyond friendship.
Before he could ponder this further, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw David, who had an apologetic look on his face.
“I’m afraid the two of you are going to have to go down to the station to give statements.”
Killian glanced at Emma, then back to David. “I figured as much.”
“I expect you won’t want to stay in this house tonight,” David continued. “I took the liberty of calling Mary Margaret to see if Emma can stay with her. You’re welcome to crash at my place, if you like.” The two men had gotten to know each other when they both ate at the restaurant while Emma and Mary Margaret worked together.
Killian turned his eyes back to Emma, who was sitting on the ground with her head in her hands. “I appreciate the offer, mate, but I…I don’t want to leave her. Would you be alright with me staying at Mary Margaret’s as well? I’d be willing to sleep on the floor. I just…I think Emma needs me…and I need to be with her, too.”
David nodded. “I understand.”
“What about Sophie and Oscar?” Killian asked. “We can’t leave them here by themselves.”
“Mary Margaret said Emma can bring them along. Her landlord normally doesn’t permit pets, but since it’s probably only for one night, it’ll be fine.”
“Sounds like a good plan, then. Are you able to stay out here with Emma while I go throw some things in an overnight bag?”
“Of course,” David answered, then sighed and ran a hand through his hair before adding, “I can’t do much to help inside anyway. I’ll be put on administrative leave for a while, since I’m the one who killed Cassidy.”
Killian turned to face him fully. “I can’t bring myself to say I’m sorry, Dave. If you hadn’t shot him, we…Emma and I might…”
David quickly put a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t even want to think about it. I did what I had to do and I have no regrets.” The two men shook hands, their eyes meeting with an understanding that only two people who had shared such a traumatic experience could convey.
Killian walked over to Emma, touched her on the shoulder, and winced when she jumped. “Sorry, Love,” he apologized. “I wanted to let you know that David made arrangements for us to stay at Mary Margaret’s tonight.” When she started to open her mouth, he hurried on. “All of us - Oscar and Sophie included. I’m going to gather some things to take along. Is there anything in particular you’ll need, besides the essentials?”
She thought over his question. “Could you grab my pillow and blanket? Having those might make the dogs, and me, more comfortable.”
“I can do that. Anything else?”
She shook her head. “Not that I can think of at the moment.”
Squatting down beside her, he took one of her hands. “Before we go to the loft, we’ll have to go to the police station to give our account of the events. Do you feel up to it?”
She looked at him and his heart broke at the pain he saw in her eyes. “I loved him,” she whispered hoarsely. “How did things go so horribly wrong?”
“Everything that happened is a consequence of Neal’s poor choices,” he replied quietly. “I wish it hadn’t come to this, but everything that happened is on him.”
“If I would have just…”
“No. Don’t do that to yourself, Swan.” Ducking his head down to make eye contact with her, he added, “You did nothing to warrant the actions he took, and there’s no way you could have predicted this turn of events, aye?”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I guess you’re right.”
“Of course I am,” he quipped, hoping to lighten the mood a bit. To his satisfaction, the corners of her mouth turned up a bit. He stood up, hesitated a second, then bent down and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “Dave is going to stay out here with you. I’ll just be a few minutes.”
She started to rise to her feet. “I need to get Sophie and Oscar’s beds and food.”
“I’ll get them,” he hurried to assure her. “Just stay out here, Love.”
Looking up at him with tears in her eyes, she said, “Are you trying to keep me from seeing his…him?”
“You already lived through a nightmare today, Emma,” he replied. “You don’t need to experience more trauma by going back into that chaos.”
“Okay,” she agreed.
“Be back in a few minutes,” he said, then went into the house. He skirted around the edge of the kitchen, intentionally averting his eyes from where Neal’s body still lay in the middle of the floor.
After stuffing pajamas, underwear, and a change of clothes from his and Emma’s rooms into a duffle bag, he added their toiletries from the bathroom, and tucked the dogs’ beds under his arm. On his return trip through the kitchen, he collected the bag of dog food, their bowls and leashes, being careful to stay out of the investigators’ way.
Emerging into the backyard again, he saw David and Emma sharing a hug. They appeared to be comforting each other and Killian was sure the events of the day were just as hard on David as they were on himself and Emma. No police officer would choose to shoot and kill someone unless it was absolutely necessary.
Killian approached them quietly, not wishing to interfere in their private moment. They ended their hug and Emma wiped at her eyes, saying, “I’ll never be able to thank you enough, David.”
“Aye,” Killian agreed. “We owe you many thanks, mate.”
David looked at each of them in turn, then gave a slight nod of acknowledgement. After clearing his throat, he said, “Mary Margaret is on her way over to pick up the dogs, then you can go to the police station.”
“How long will we have to be there?” Emma asked.
“However long it takes for you both to give your statements,” David answered, just as his phone dinged with an incoming text. He pulled it from his pocket and checked it. “Mary Margaret is parked around the corner. They have the street blocked off, so she can’t get any closer.”
Killian handed the leashes to Emma. “Why don’t you clip these on while I go put our things in the car. I’ll be right back.”
He jogged around the side of the house and tossed everything in the trunk of his car. A police officer stopped him to ask if they should lock the door when they were finished collecting evidence. After answering in the affirmative, Killian returned to the backyard where Emma was leading the dogs around the yard, giving them an opportunity to do their business.
David was sitting on the steps, staring off into space. Killian sat down beside him and asked, “When the detectives finish their investigation, will they clean up the kitchen?”
David turned his attention to his friend. “The police won’t, but there are a couple of people who clean up crime scenes for us. I’ll give one of them a call, if you want.”
“That would be great. I know Emma will want to bring the dogs back home tomorrow, and I’d really like all the mess to be gone.”
The two men watched her lead the dogs back to where they sat. Killian stood up and took Oscar’s leash from her. “Ready to go, Love?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she sighed resignedly.
David joined them and the three of them left the backyard, following the sidewalk around the corner to where Mary Margaret was pacing beside her car. When she caught sight of the trio, she rushed over to David, embracing him in a tight hug.
Killian and Emma hung back, allowing the couple to have a moment. They could hear Mary Margaret murmuring words of comfort and reassurance to her boyfriend. As soon as they pulled away from each other, Mary Margaret turned toward Emma, gathering her in her arms as well. “That must have been horrible for you,” Killian heard her say.
“I never dreamed he could be so violent,” Emma answered, her words muffled against her friend’s shoulder. “It was like he lost his mind.”
Mary Margaret ended the hug and held Emma at arm’s length, a look of compassion on her face. “I almost hate to say it, but at least he won’t be able to hurt you again.”
“No, he won’t,” Emma agreed. “But I never wanted him dead.”
“It was either him or one of us,” Killian said. “And fortunately, thanks to Dave, it wasn’t us. Your boyfriend is a hero, Mary Margaret.”
“Yes, he is,” she said, turning a beaming smile at David, which he attempted to return.
They loaded the dogs into Mary Margaret’s car, watched her drive away, then headed back to the house so they could go to the police station.
*********
By the time Emma finished giving her statement, she was thoroughly drained. Not only did she have to recount the events of that afternoon, she also had to answer questions about her relationship with Neal. When she finally emerged into the lobby of the station, Killian was waiting for her. He swiftly rose from his seat to meet her.
“Alright there, Swan?” he asked.
“Yeah, I just…” Her voice faltered and he pulled her into his arms. She went willingly, craving the comfort he was offering.
After several moments, she heard him whisper, “Let’s go to Mary Margaret’s, see the kids, and get some sleep, aye?”
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”
She expected him to release her, but he kept one arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders as they left the station and walked to his car. He opened the passenger door and she gratefully sank into the leather seat, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes.
Killian slid into the driver’s seat, started the car, and shifted it into gear. When they didn’t begin moving right away, Emma rolled her head toward him and opened her eyes. He was looking at her with obvious concern. She gave him a weak smile, reached over and gave his hand a squeeze. He flipped it over, threaded his fingers through hers, then directed his eyes back to the road. As he pulled away from the curb, she closed her eyes again.
They didn’t speak during the drive to Mary Margaret’s apartment. Emma appreciated the fact that Killian seemed to sense her need for silence after a day of chaos and didn’t try to fill it with unnecessary chatter.
When they arrived, Emma fumbled to unbuckle her seat belt, feeling like her hands were leaden and clumsy. Before she could reach for the door handle, Killian was opening it for her and offering his hand to help her out.
“What about our stuff?” she asked, as they started up the sidewalk.
“I’ll come back out and get it in a bit. Let’s get you inside and settled first.”
She leaned into him and once again, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, adjusting his stride to match hers. They went inside the building and trudged up the flight of stairs. Killian was just getting ready to knock on the door, when it swung open and both dogs ran out, happily bounding around them.
“I saw you pull up out front,” Mary Margaret explained. “When I mentioned that Mommy and Daddy were here, they got all excited.”
Emma glanced at Killian to see him smiling about being referred to as ‘Daddy’. He ushered her inside, guiding her to the couch. After she was seated, he grabbed the leashes from where they were draped over the back of a kitchen stool. “I’ll take the kids outside and get our bag from the car,” he said, kneeling down to clip the leashes on their collars.
She watched him go, then turned her attention to her friend, who had taken a seat beside her on the couch.
“He’s a good guy,” Mary Margaret said.
“Yeah, he really is.”
Mary Margaret reached over and patted her hand. “I put some clean sheets on the bed in the spare room. Would you like to take a shower before you go to bed? Or maybe a nice, warm bath?”
Emma considered the offer for a moment before answering, “A soak in the tub would be nice. I don’t know if I have the energy to stand up long enough to take a shower.”
Mary Margaret nodded in understanding. “First though, you and Killian need to eat something. I made some chicken and noodles with mashed potatoes and glazed carrots. I thought comfort food might be the ticket after such a trying day.”
“That sounds amazing,” Emma sighed. “Thank you.”
“Come sit at the counter and I’ll fix a plate for you.” Mary Margaret patted her hand one more time, then stood and went into the kitchen to begin dishing up the food. Just as she was setting a full plate in front of Emma, Killian and the dogs came back in.
“We were just about to eat, Killian,” Mary Margaret said. “Have a seat.”
“Have the kids had their dinner?” he asked, dropping the duffle bag beside the sofa.
Mary Margaret shook her head. “No, they haven’t. I wasn’t sure how much to give them.”
“Let me feed them and wash my hands first.” He picked up their food bowls, while Mary Margaret turned back to her own task.
The three friends ate in relative silence, except for an occasional compliment of the meal or admonishment to the dogs when they begged for food. Emma expected to have little appetite, but found that she was famished once she began to eat. Now all she needed to finally put this day behind her was a hot bath and a good night’s sleep.
*********
After dinner, Emma went to start running the bath water. Killian removed his items from the duffle and dropped it outside the bathroom before helping Mary Margaret clean up the kitchen.
“It’s been quite the day,” she commented.
“Aye, that it has,” Killian agreed with a heavy sigh.
“David said you were the one who called 9-1-1. I hate to think what would have happened if you hadn’t.” Killian didn’t answer, trying not to imagine that scenario. Suddenly, Mary Margaret turned to face him. “How are you handling all of this? I’ve been concerned about David and Emma, but I haven’t asked about you.”
He put down the dish towel and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m fine, now that I know Emma is safe. When Cassidy pointed that gun at her…” He stopped speaking, a lump forming in his throat.
“You went in the house to save her,” she praised.
“It was the right thing to do,” he said, trying to brush off her admiration. Mary Margaret laid a soft hand on his arm. “I had to protect her, Mary Margaret,” he choked out. “If anything happened to her, it…it would kill me.”
She studied his face. “You care for her more than just as a friend, don’t you?”
“I…I didn’t realize how much she meant to me until I looked through that window and saw him hit her. I wanted to throttle him so badly for daring to treat her like that. Just the thought of her being hurt…it…I guess it made me aware of my feelings for her.”
“You’re in love with her.”
His eyes met hers, then his head dipped in a nod. “Aye.”
A huge smile stretched across her face, her eyes sparkling. “When are you going to tell her?”
He blew out a breath, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “With everything going on, hearing that I’m in love with her is not what she needs right now.”
“Or maybe it’s exactly what she needs right now.”
Before he could answer, he heard the tune from Disney’s Snow White, Someday My Prince Will Come. “That’s David’s ringtone,” Mary Margaret said, picking up her phone from the counter.
“I’ll take the kids outside so you can have some privacy,” Killian said, struggling to keep the bemused smirk off his face as he collected the leashes.
She nodded her thanks as she answered the call.
As Killian followed the dogs down the sidewalk, he thought about what Mary Margaret had said. Was it the right time to tell Emma he loved her? What if she didn’t feel the same? That would definitely make things awkward. But if she did reciprocate his feelings, they could pursue a romantic relationship, one in which he could show her how a lady should be treated.
His mind was still swirling with these thoughts as he led the dogs back inside. Mary Margaret was on her way down the steps. “David just got done giving his statement and he needs me,” she explained. “I left a key to the apartment on the table. Will you and Emma be alright?”
“I’m sure we will.”
She halted on the step above the landing where he stood. “I don’t know how much you know about Emma’s background, but she’s been abandoned many times by people who were supposed to love her. First, her birth parents soon after she was born, then numerous foster parents and prospective adoptive parents. And there were more men she dated before Neal who let her down. She has walls a mile high around her heart, Killian. It may take you a while to dismantle them.”
“Well,” he said, a small smile on his face, “I do love a challenge.”
“Have you thought about what will happen when your job here is finished and you go back to England?”
“Aye,” he sighed. “That’s another obstacle to consider.”
“Think about it, but don’t give up on her,” Mary Margaret urged him. “Emma is worth it. Love is worth it.” She leaned forward and brushed a kiss across his cheek. “I have to go. I’ll call Emma in the morning.”
“Tell Dave he’s in our prayers.”
“I will, and the two of you are in ours,” Mary Margaret said, before going out the door.
Killian watched her go, then continued up the stairs with Oscar and Sophie. Emma was still in the bathroom, so he finished drying the dishes and found where they belonged in the cupboards. Then he took the dogs’ beds upstairs to Emma’s room and called his closest co-worker to explain why he wouldn’t be at work the next day. When she finally emerged ten minutes later, he was sitting in the living room, checking emails on his phone.
“Sorry I took so long,” she apologized. “A hot bath felt really good, but now I’m all pruney.” She held up her hands to show him her water-wrinkled fingers.
“There’s no reason to apologize, Swan. I hope it was relaxing for you.”
“It was, but I’m sure you want to take a shower.”
“There’s still plenty of time for that,” he assured her. “Mary Margaret went to David’s for the night. She left a key on the table and said she would call you in the morning. I took the kids out, so they should be good for the night.”
“Okay, thanks,” she said, putting her hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn. “I think I’m going to bed.”
“Sounds good, Love. I put the dog beds upstairs so they can be close to you.”
He was trying to decide if he should give her a hug, but she made the decision for him by moving into his arms. He wrapped her up firmly, kissing the crown of her head.
“I will never be able to thank you and David enough for saving my life today,” she whispered.
“No thanks are necessary, Emma,” he murmured. “I’m just glad we were there in time.”
She clung to him for a few more moments before finally pulling away. Looking up at him, she said, “Goodnight, Killian.”
He couldn’t keep himself from caressing her cheek as he gazed into her jade eyes. “Goodnight. Sleep well.”
He watched her drag herself up the stairs, exhaustion evident in every step. When she reached the landing, she called Sophie and Oscar, who bounded up the steps. The room she slept in was an open loft, so Killian was able to see when she turned off the bedside lamp. Once she did, he headed off to the shower.
*********
Killian had just drifted off to sleep on the sofa when he felt a cold nose pressed against his cheek. Annoyed and half asleep, he batted at the offending dog, but when he heard an insistent whine, his eyes popped open and he sat up quickly.
“What’s wrong, Oscar?” he asked. The dog ran toward the stairs, looking back to see if Killian was following him, which he did with his heart pounding. He hadn’t seen the dog act so agitated before.
He took the stairs two at a time and turned the corner into the bedroom. Sophie was lying on the bed beside Emma, who was tossing restlessly. The whimpers coming from her broke Killian’s heart and as he got closer, he saw her face was wet with tears.
He was unsure what action to take, afraid that if he tried to wake her up, it would frighten her. Instead, he lay down on the bed and gently pulled her into his arms. “Shh, Swan,” he crooned. “It’s alright. You’re safe, Love.”
He continued to murmur comforting words and stroke his hands up and down her back, until he felt her rigid body begin to relax. He thought she was asleep, but then realized she was sobbing into his chest, causing tears to gather in his own eyes.
After several minutes, he heard her say in a voice thick with emotion, “I’m sorry. It seems like all I’ve done today is cry.”
“I would be worried about you if you didn’t cry after what you’ve been through today, Love.”
She didn’t respond, but he felt her wrap her arms around his waist and snuggle more deeply into his chest. He was content simply holding her and dropping occasional kisses to the crown of her head.
“Killian?”
He jolted, unaware he had started to fall asleep. “Hmm?” he hummed.
“Can I…will you do me a favor?” she asked hesitantly.
“Anything,” he affirmed.
“Stay with me tonight? I mean here, in my bed,” she clarified. “I just…I don’t want to be alone.”
“Of course I’ll stay with you, if that’s what you want. Truth be told, I’ll feel better being here with you, in case you have another nightmare.”
“Thank you,” she yawned. “You’re such a good friend.”
Her words hit him like a bucket of ice water. Long after she went back to sleep in his arms, he lay awake, her words echoing in his mind. Would she ever think of him as anything more than a friend?
–Yay! Emma and Killian are alright! So glad it was David that showed up and that he shot Neal.
–I wouldn’t have minded Neal suffering a bit more than a clean gunshot wound, but the fact that he’s dead is reason for celebration.
–Nothing like a near death moment to clarify your feelings for someone! Hopefully Emma is as quick to realize and accept her feelings!
–”I loved him. How did things go so horribly wrong?” Neal was a total piece of human excrement, but I can’t help but feel sorry for Emma. I’m sure she’ll grieve…but also feel relieved, and that’ll probably make her feel guilty.
–I like how Killian is taking care of her–arranging a place for them all to stay, packing bags, reassuring her that what happened with Neal isn’t her fault. It’s all on Neal.
–”David was sitting on the steps, staring off into space.” Poor David! It has to be hard on him to have had to take a life. Stupid Neal!
–I love a good “He flipped it over, threaded his fingers through hers” moment!
–Also love him rushing to open the car door for her! Always a gentleman.
–Aw! I like how Mary Margaret is mothering them after their awful day. I like how she doesn’t only take care of Emma, she takes care of Killian too–taking the time to ask him how he’s doing when Emma’s taking her bath.
–I love the conversation between Killian and Mary Margaret–how he confesses that he loves Emma and how she encourages him to tell her.
–Haha, of course “Someday My Prince Will Come” is Mary Margaret’s ringtone for David!
–I like that Mary Margaret told Killian about All the times Emma was abandoned and that it’s the reason for her walls. I also like that you switched it and her give Killian the “Love is so worth it” line.
–Good boy, Oscar, getting help for your mom when she’s suffering. I kind of expected Killian would end up in Emma’s bed. The “comfort” part of “hurt/comfort” was necessary.
–Poor Killian! Hopefully he doesn’t get too much in his head about her calling him a ‘good friend’ and decide not to share his feelings!
A Doggone Good Plan - Chapter 4 (A False Sense of Security)
A CS Multi-chapter Modern AU
For those of you who like cliffhangers, this chapter is for you!
STORY SUMMARY: Desperate to save her beloved dogs when her ex-boyfriend makes threats against them, Emma Swan takes Killian Jones up on his offer to foster them.
RATING: M (for language, verbal abuse and gun violence)
WORDS: 2400 of 18,700 (6 chapters and a short epilogue)
Catch up with the story on Tumblr: Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3
Can also be ready on Ao3
Chapter begins under the cut
*********
Two weekends later, Killian helped Emma move into his rental house. Although she had told him she didn’t have many possessions, he was still surprised how little she actually did have. She shared the story about her upbringing in the foster system in one of their previous conversations, and how it taught her early on the futility of sentimentality over possessions.
She did have one large, bulky box that he struggled to carry. As he set it down in her bedroom, she blushed furiously, explaining, “These are my thrifting treasures. Neal always complained about me buying a bunch of junk. I hope it doesn’t bother you.”
“What do you mean by thrifting?” he asked, genuinely interested.
“I go to thrift shops and look for interesting things that I can repurpose.” Opening the flaps on the box, she reached in and pulled out a white plastic picture frame and a blue vase. “Like these, for example. I plan to break this vase into pieces, then glue the pieces on the frame to make it look like a mosaic.”
“Clever,” he commented. “Then what will you do with it?”
She shrugged. “Probably give it away as a gift. I just enjoy hunting for hidden treasures to see what I can do with them. Some of the stuff I’ve made is in that box over there,” she said, pointing to another box in the corner.
“May I?” he asked, moving over to the box.
“Go ahead.”
He opened the box and peered into it for several moments, before pulling out a pair of women’s cowboy boots that had colorful ribbons laced up the back. “Do you wear these?”
“No, they’re not even my size,” she answered, giving a nervous little laugh. “One of them was torn and I thought it would look cool to fix it with ribbons, so I cut both of them all the way down the back. I thought they turned out pretty good.”
“Have you considered selling them?”
“Actually, I have thought about offering them on Facebook Marketplace or even opening my own little online shop, but I don’t know if anyone would buy this stuff.”
He turned his attention back to the box. “I’m sure they would. These things are very creative and unique. People like having things that are one-of-a-kind.”
“When I mentioned my idea of setting up a shop, Neal told me it was a stupid idea because no one was going to pay for someone else’s trash.”
“Don’t let his asinine opinion squash your dream,” Killian said with a frown. “As the saying goes, one person’s trash is another person’s treasure.” He held up a pair of wooden spoons on which she’d painted some wildflowers. “These are beautiful, Swan.”
When he turned around, she was looking at him oddly.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“No one has encouraged me to pursue my interests before,” she explained. “Of course, I haven’t really shared how I like to go thrifting with very many people. I figured they would think it was weird.”
He folded the flaps back down on the box. “If you like doing it, why does it matter?”
“I guess it doesn’t,” she conceded. “Especially if I could make a little extra cash. Maybe I’ll look into how to set up a shop.”
“Good,” he smiled, before leaving the room to carry in another box.
*********
It took a few days for the two of them to get used to living in the same house. Their work schedules were different, so they often only saw each other in passing. When they did spend time together, Killian was accommodating and went out of his way to help her feel comfortable because he could tell she wasn’t yet. She was meticulous about picking up after herself and putting things away immediately after using them. She never left towels on the floor, dishes in the sink, or shoes beside the door.
One day, he decided to ask her about it, hoping that she wouldn’t take it as criticism. “Swan, have you always been so painstakingly neat and tidy? I consider myself rather orderly, but you make me feel like a slob.”
“I just don’t want to mess up your house,” she admitted, sheepishly.
“You’re paying your share of the rent, so technically, this is our house. I want you to feel at home here - a place for you to relax and unwind, not drive yourself crazy trying to keep it spotless and uncluttered.”
She looked chagrined, but didn’t say anything.
“As soon as you get home after a long shift of taking care of customers, you’re picking up the dogs’ toys, unloading the dishwasher, doing laundry, or vacuuming. Forgive me, but when we used to Facetime after you got off work, you were usually lounging on the sofa with your feet up. I hope you know you can do the same here.”
“Okay, I’ll try,” she said.
It wasn’t long after the conversation that he could see her take his words to heart. She was beginning to relax and consider the house her home. She was also overjoyed about being with her dogs every day.
They were soon spending as much time as possible together, getting to know each other’s likes and dislikes, sharing stories of their childhood and teen years, having discussions about everything under the sun, and making each other laugh until their sides hurt. Both of them looked forward to the evenings when their schedules aligned and they could cook dinner together, then relax while watching a movie or TV series with Sophie and Oscar wedged between them on the sofa. It was a perfect living situation for all four of them.
*********
Emma’s favorite days of the week were the ones when she and Killian took Oscar and Sophie to the dog park. Besides being able to let her sweet pooches run and explore to their hearts’ content, she enjoyed their conversations on the way there and back. Killian was extremely astute at noticing and commenting on things other people simply would have overlooked. He drew her attention to buds on trees, tiny flowers just bursting into bloom, and improvements people had made on the houses along the route. They stopped to study the busy inhabitants of anthills, identify various birds, and pull branches of lilacs down to inhale their sweet scent. Emma supposed it was part of his job as a digital designer to be so detail oriented, but she never before knew anyone who seemed to notice absolutely everything like he did.
On one particular day as she was appreciating his many observations, she herself failed to notice the familiar car that slowly followed them all the way back to their house.
*********
Neal had been doggedly trying to locate Emma for over two months. In that time, his irritation had grown into full-blown rage. It didn’t help that his gambling buddies constantly ribbed him about how Emma had left him, then ‘beaten the odds’ and outwitted him. He was sick and tired of being the butt of their jokes, and was more determined than ever to find her and make her pay for humiliating him.
He assumed she quit her job at the restaurant because her yellow bug was never in the parking lot. He wasn’t having any luck hanging around her friend’s apartments either. He wondered if she moved out of town, knowing if she did, he was virtually guaranteed to never find her.
Then one day as he was cruising past the restaurant to check the parking lot again, he struck gold. He saw her coming up the sidewalk toward him, walking her two mutts. Turning his head so she wouldn’t see his face if she happened to look his way, he passed her then turned the car around in the middle of the street and began following her. If she was walking, she had to live nearby.
As he watched, he realized she wasn’t walking the dogs alone. A dark-haired guy was beside her, talking animatedly. Emma looked like she was hanging on his every word, throwing her head back in laughter every once in a while. Neal’s blood boiled as he continued tailing them.
Finally, they turned up the sidewalk to a small house and went inside together. That bitch! Neal thought. That absolute fucking whore! She was already living with some guy only weeks after leaving him!
Seething with white-hot rage, Neal floored the accelerator, completely ignoring the speed limit. A few blocks away, he jerked the steering wheel and brought the car to a stop, halfway up on the curb. He pulled out his phone and with shaking fingers, found the contact he wanted. Then he punched the screen with unnecessary force.
When the call connected, he growled, “Hey, Pete, it’s Neal. Remember when you offered to let me use your gun for target practice? I want to take you up on it.”
*********
The next afternoon, Emma was in the backyard with the dogs. On the days she worked the early shift, she would wait for Killian to get home, then after playing with Sophie and Oscar for a few minutes, they would prepare supper together, before taking them to the dog park.
Several minutes before Killian’s expected arrival, she heard someone banging on the front door. She headed toward the back entrance, puzzled because normally he would go through the house, drop his lunch bag and keys on the table, then join them in the backyard. If he couldn’t get in, he would still be able to go around the outside of the house and through the gate.
As she pulled the front door open, she was ready to tease him about forgetting his key, but stopped when she saw who was standing there.
“N-Neal?” she squeaked, her breath stolen from seeing her ex in front of her.
“Surprised to see me?” he asked, his face a mask of anger. He pushed past her into the house, shoving her aside roughly. “You really thought you were gonna hide from me forever, Emma? How fucking stupid are you?”
“You c-can’t come in here,” she stammered, still trying to overcome her shock.
He turned and got in her face. “Why? Is your fucking boyfriend here?” he yelled.
The splatter of spittle in her face made her wince in disgust. “Boyfriend?” she asked, confused.
“The mother fucker you live with! I saw the two of you come in this house together yesterday. Where is he?” he roared. Then he began to stalk through the house, opening doors and slamming them shut when he found the rooms empty.
“Neal, stop!” Emma shouted, her surprise giving way to anger. “Get out of here! You don’t have any right -”
He whirled around and slapped her, then stuck a finger in her face. “Don’t tell me what I have a right to do, you stupid bitch! You made me a laughing stock among my friends! Now you’re going to pay.” Reaching behind himself, he pulled a gun from his waistband and waved it in front of her face. Emma’s eyes grew huge and her throat went dry. “First, I’m going to make you watch me kill those fucking mutts of yours, then you’re coming with me. You’re gonna tell my buddies how you cheated on me and I threw you out. You’re gonna make it clear that you begged to stay with me, but I wouldn’t let you. Got it?”
When she didn’t answer right away, he started stomping through the kitchen, continuing to rave about killing the dogs. Despite her terror about him having a gun, Emma ran after him, desperate to save her pets. She caught up to him and grabbed his left arm, yanking on it hard to get him to stop. “NO!” she screamed. “Leave them alone, Neal! You can’t shoot them!”
He came to a halt, turned and looked at her, his eyes filled with a hate she couldn’t even comprehend. Then he slowly raised his right arm, pointing the gun at her chest. “Maybe you’re right, Ems,” he said, his voice low and menacing. It sent a chill through her that even his screaming hadn’t. “Maybe I should shoot you instead.”
*********
Killian was going up the sidewalk to the house when he heard Emma shout Neal’s name. He ducked down and looked in through the front window, his heart slamming against his ribcage as he witnessed the scene inside.
Still squatting to avoid being seen, he ran around the side of the house, dialing 9-1-1 as he went.
“9-1-1, what is your emergency?” the dispatcher asked.
“My name is Killian Jones and I live at 815 Rogers Way. I just got home from work and my roommate is inside the house with her ex-boyfriend, whom she’s been hiding from. I can hear them yelling from outside.” He reached the back of the house and looked in through the kitchen window. “Bloody hell,” he whispered. “He has a gun!”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Jones,” the dispatcher assured him. “There are police officers in the area and they are on their way.”
Killian hung up, peeked in the window again, and saw Neal pointing the gun at Emma. He knew he couldn’t wait any longer, so he slipped in through the back door, catching Emma’s attention. He gestured for her to drop to the floor, desperately hoping Neal wouldn’t discharge the gun at her sudden movement.
She followed his directions as Killian tackled Neal to the ground from behind, the gun flying out of his hand and skittering across the kitchen floor. The two men wrestled, while Emma got to her feet. Instead of heading toward the open door, she moved back into the kitchen.
“Emma!” Killian shouted, avoiding a wild swing of Neal’s fist. “Get out of here!”
She bent down to pick up the gun, but Neal managed to kick at her, knocking her feet out from under her. As she hit the floor, Killian redoubled his efforts to subdue the other man, but fueled by fury, Cassidy was able to wrest himself away. Before Killian could react, Neal snatched up the gun, cocked it, and spun around, aiming the weapon first at Emma, then at Killian. “Now you get to watch your boyfriend die before I kill you, Emma!” he bellowed.
His words were followed by the sound of a gunshot reverberating through the room.
–Okay, you’ve officially scared me about this chapter. *deep breath* Let’s do this thing.
–Oh, I like Emma’s thrifting projects. They sound fun. (Of course Neal just thought they were junk. *eye roll*). I like that Killian is encouraging her to sell her finished items. Hopefully she has better success than I’ve had!
–I like that Killian notices how uncomfortable Emma is and lets her know he wants her to consider the place her home–the place where she can relax and unwind.
–Yeah, the first section is way to happy and fluffy. I’m bracing myself for everything to hit the fan…
–”On one particular day as she was appreciating his many observations, she herself failed to notice the familiar car that slowly followed them all the way back to their house.” Oh no….
–Okay, no offense to the gambling buddies, but really, how high could the odds possibly be of someone outwitting Neal?
–Neal is an absolute loser. Total waste of oxygen. He has the nerve to call Emma a whore for moving in with someone after their breakup—when he cheated on her during their relationship. Please tell me he at least gets punched in the face repeatedly before this is all said and done.
–I knew Neal would show up to make trouble, but he slaps her? He pulls a gun? He threatens to kill her dogs and then her? And all of this because his friends are making fun of him? What an absolute sociopath! I would like to change my previous comment. Punching is not good enough. He needs to be tossed into a volcano.
–815 Rogers Way. Nice!
–So glad Killian came home and called 911 immediately!
–You mentioned a cliffhanger….you’re going to end with a gunshot, aren’t you? *insert judgemental side eye*
–Called it. You can’t leave it like that! Please tell me the gunshot was from the police arriving and taking Neal down! Actually, no. A clean gunshot wound isn’t enough. He needs to step on about a dozen rusty nails, get tetanus, fall out a 2nd story window, and then be tossed into a volcano. Maybe get doused with gasoline and set on fire first, but there are still 3 chapters left. I need to save some karmic justice suggestions for his future malfeasance.
Thank you to all who read the first chapter. I hoped you liked it and have come back for more. For those of you who don't want to start a multi-chapter story until it's finished posting, the story is completely written and edited and will be updated twice a week. There will be four more chapters and an epilogue.
STORY SUMMARY: Desperate to save her beloved dogs when her ex-boyfriend makes threats against them, Emma Swan takes Killian Jones up on his offer to foster them.
RATING: M (for language, verbal abuse and gun violence)
WORDS: 2660 of 18,700
Catch up with story on Tumblr - Ch. 1
Can also be read on Ao3
Chapter begins under the cut
*********
“You’re sure he’s not going to be home?” Killian asked, as they sat in his car outside the condo she used to share with Neal.
“Yeah, his car is gone. He leaves for work at nine. Of course, that’s when he’s supposed to be there, but he’s always late,” she said, rolling her eyes in annoyance.
“How does he keep his job, then?”
“Oh, he works for his dear old dad at a pawn shop, and I use the word ‘works’ very loosely. I think he spends most of the day placing bets on sporting events.”
“Sounds like a real loser,” Killian commented, then shot a look at Emma. “Sorry, lass. I didn’t mean to…”
She held up a hand to stop him. “No worries. I’ve come to the same conclusion. Unfortunately, it took me way too long to figure it out.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Killian asked, “How long are we going to wait?”
She pointed at a condo three doors down from Neal’s. “His buddy Walsh lives there. If he sees me, he’ll let Neal know for sure,” she informed him. “That’s why I asked if we could use your car, so he wouldn’t recognize my bug.”
“Does this Walsh bloke leave for work at a certain time?”
“No, he works second shift, but he always goes for a run at ten.” She looked over at Killian. “I’m sorry you had to take off work to do this, but I was afraid if we waited any longer…”
“I don’t mind at all, Swan,” he assured her. “I haven’t taken a day off since I moved here, so I was due for one. I can think of no better reason than helping you rescue your dogs.”
The door to Walsh’s condo opened and the man stepped outside, dressed in a neon green T-shirt and black shorts. Emma slouched down in the car seat, watching over the top of the dashboard as he stretched. Finally, he turned and jogged off in the opposite direction.
Once he was out of sight, Emma flung open the car door and jumped out. Killian followed, running behind her as she sprinted to the front door. Pulling out her key with shaking fingers, she glanced in both directions, then fitted the key in the lock, opened the door, and slipped inside.
Killian entered and closed the door behind him, then turned to see the joyous reunion between Emma and her dogs. They were jumping on her as she knelt, smothering her with wet dog kisses as their tails wagged so hard, their whole bodies were wiggling.
“Where are their bowls and food?” he asked, following through on the plan the two of them concocted over the phone the evening before.
“In the kitchen.” She pointed him in the right direction, then got to her feet to grab their leashes from the hook by the front door.
He soon returned with a partial bag of food, several bags of treats, and their food and water bowls. Emma was busy tossing scattered toys into a toy basket sitting in the corner of the room.
“I’ll take these out to the car and come back to get their beds and toys,” Killian said, quickly moving toward the door. When he returned, Emma had all the toys gathered and was carrying two dog beds out of the bedroom.
“Neal always hated that I let the dogs sleep in our bedroom. He said it affected our sex life. Apparently that’s what drove him to sleep with someone else.”
Killian looked up at her from where he was bent over picking up the basket of toys. “The bloody wanker cheated on you?” he asked, disgust evident in his voice.
“Yeah. That’s the main reason why we broke up.”
“Have you considered hiring a hit man?” At her startled look, he added, “I’m just kidding, lass…for the most part, at least.”
Emma laughed lightly as she hooked a leash onto Oscar’s collar. “Not that he doesn’t deserve it, but I’d rather not spend the rest of my life in jail because of him.” Straightening up, she looked around the room. “I think that’s everything. We better get going.”
He collected the beds from the floor. “I’ll follow you out and secure the door.”
“Wait! I need to take them out back and let them do their business or they might do it in your car.”
“Is there time?”
“Yeah,” she called over her shoulder, already on her way through the kitchen. “We have at least another ten minutes before Walsh comes home.” She returned in less than a minute. “Okay, we’re good now.”
They left the condo, bundling the dogs and the last of the supplies into the car, then climbing in themselves. Killian started the car and smoothly pulled away from the curb, leisurely driving down the street so as not to draw undue attention.
Emma blew out a sigh of relief. “I wonder what Neal will do when he comes home and finds out they’re gone. He’s gonna be furious because he lost his bargaining chips.”
“Do you think he’ll turn his anger on you? From the way you’ve described him…”
“Well, I blocked him on my phone and all of my social media accounts, so he shouldn’t have any way to contact me. He also has no idea where my apartment is located. When I had my mail forwarded, I rented a PO box. The only thing I’m worried about is him coming to the restaurant.”
“Do you think he will?”
“Probably, but if he comes in and makes a scene, my manager will call the police. She did it before when Ella’s stepmother came in and started screaming at her for stealing her jewelry. It turned out her own daughter did it.”
“Perhaps I should be there during your shift tonight.”
Emma shook her head vehemently. “No, I don’t want him to know anything about you. I’ll warn August that he might show up. He’ll have my back.”
Killian glanced in his rearview mirror. “Your dogs are very well behaved.”
She turned to look at them, reaching back to pat each one on the head. “They love car rides, don’t you, my babies?”
“It’s very clear how much they love you, Swan. Thank you for trusting me to take care of them.”
“I was still mulling over your offer before I talked to Neal last night, but when he said he was going to have them euthanized, I knew I had to take you up on it. As hateful as he was towards me on the phone, I’m pretty sure he would have followed through with it.”
Killian’s jaw ticked in anger. “If he ever threatens you or makes you feel unsafe in any way, please tell me. If August has your back at the restaurant, I’ll have your back outside of it. We’ll do all we can to protect you from that prat.”
“I don’t even know how it got to this point,” Emma sighed. “Two months ago, I couldn’t imagine spending my life with anyone else but Neal. Now, I need protection from him.”
“I’m sorry, Emma.”
“You don’t need to apologize. It’s not your fault he turned into Mr. Hyde.”
“Aye, but I’m still sorry that your future plans have been dashed.”
“Yeah, me too.”
The rest of the ride to Killian’s house was quiet, except for the sounds of the dogs panting and occasionally whining in the back seat. When they arrived, he carried the supplies into the house, while she took the dogs through the gate to the backyard to start acclimating them to their new environment.
Soon, Killian joined them, smiling as he watched Oscar and Sophie sniffing and exploring the yard. “They seem comfortable already,” he observed.
Emma nodded in agreement. “Sophie adjusted pretty quickly when I moved in with Neal, and like I said, Oscar is very easy-going.” They watched as Oscar chose a spot and began to poop.
“Oh, crap,” she said. “Literally. I forgot to grab the pooper scooper out of the laundry room.”
“No problem,” Killian said, pulling out his phone. “I’ll order some waste bags from Amazon. They should be here tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to do that. I can order them myself.”
“I don’t mind. They’re not expensive.”
“Look, we need to get something straight. I don’t expect you to buy things for my dogs. You’re already providing a temporary place for them to live. You don’t need to be spending money on them on top of it.”
“The bags are four dollars, Swan. That’s not going to break my bank account. I promise.”
She put her hands on her hips, pursing her lips. “Killian…”
“The next time I’m at the restaurant, you can buy me a drink to pay me back.”
“I get drinks for free.”
“Even better,” he grinned.
She rolled her eyes. “Are you always this stubborn?”
“No. Sometimes I’m even worse.” If possible, his grin grew a little bigger.
“Well, thank you, but please don’t buy anything else. I already owe you big time.”
“You don’t owe me anything. When I was a kid, my brother and I had a dog. It’s one of my favorite childhood memories. I always wanted to adopt another one once I had my own place, but everywhere I’ve lived hasn’t permitted pets. So, you see, you’re actually doing me a favor by allowing your dogs to stay here.”
Emma glanced at her smart watch. “I have to be at work in less than two hours. I should go home, get a shower and eat some lunch. Do you think you’ll be okay with them?”
“Aye, we’ll be fine. I’ll take them inside and let them get acquainted with the place.”
“Well, I guess I’ll see you two later then,” she said, kneeling down to gather her dogs and give them a hug. “My shift is over at eight. Would it be okay if I stop in to see them afterwards?”
“Of course. Just make sure your ex doesn’t follow you here.”
She stood and brushed off the knees of her jeans. “I didn’t even think of that. I’ll be cautious.” After scratching Sophie behind the ears and rubbing Oscar’s throat, explaining those were their favorite places to be petted, she turned and walked toward the gate. “I’ll call you before I leave for work to see how they’re doing. Thanks again, Killian.”
“You’re welcome, Emma.”
*********
Emma was twenty minutes into her dinner break when Neal came storming into the restaurant and over to the bar where she was sitting. “What the fuck, Ems?” he hollered. “How dare you break into MY place! And why aren’t you answering your phone? I’ve called you a million times and it keeps going straight to voicemail!”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw August move around the bar to stand beside her. She had told him what she and Killian did as soon as she got to work that afternoon and he assured her he would protect her if Neal showed up.
She took a deep breath then spoke in what she hoped sounded like a steady voice. “First of all, I didn’t break in because I still have a key. Besides, I paid more than my share of the rent the entire time I lived with you, so technically, it’s more my place than yours. To answer your second question, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m working and haven’t had time to look at my phone.” She lifted her chin and met his furious gaze. “And besides, I blocked your number.”
Neal’s face reddened with rage and his hands balled into fists. “You did what?”
August stepped in front of her, stating firmly, “Leave her alone, Cassidy.”
“Stay out of it, Booth! This is none of your business!”
“Maybe not, but Emma is my friend and I’m not going to stand here and listen to you scream at her.”
Neal stepped forward until he was nose-to-nose with August. “This BITCH,” he spat, “broke into my house while I was at work…”
“Didn’t you hear her? She didn’t break in. And she went in to rescue her own dogs,” August said calmly.
“Did she give them to you?” Neal questioned loudly, his face showing even more anger at being cut off.
August shook his head. “No. I’m allergic to dogs.”
“Then where the fuck are they?”
The bartender shrugged unconcernedly. “I don’t know.” It wasn’t a lie, since he didn’t know where Killian lived.
Neal stepped to his left to focus on Emma again. “Don’t think this is over, Ems! When I find those mutts…”
“Why do you want to find them?” she interrupted. “Obviously you hate them or you wouldn’t have threatened to have them killed. They’re not your problem anymore, so just let it go.”
“You’ll pay for this, Emma,” Neal growled. “Nobody makes a fool out of me!”
As he turned to stalk away, Emma couldn’t stop herself from saying, “Nobody has to, Neal. You do a good enough job of that all by yourself.”
He whirled around and had his finger in her face before August could move to stop him. “I will find those fucking dogs and when I do, I’ll chop them into bite-sized pieces and sell them to a Chinese restaurant!”
Emma’s face was ashen as she watched him stomp out the door. Turning to August, she whispered, “Do you think he’ll be able to find them?”
“Not if you’re careful for the next couple of weeks” he assured her. “Knowing Neal, he’ll lose interest in finding them after that.”
“That’s true. He has the attention span of a gnat. Hopefully he’ll move on and be out of my life soon.”
*********
Emma called Killian as soon as her shift was over. “How are they?” she blurted.
“Hello to you, too, Swan,” he chuckled.
“Sorry. I just…”
“No worries. The dogs are absolutely fine. Sophie slept most of the day and Oscar has been exploring the house. I think he decided his favorite spot is my bedroom, so I put his bed in there.”
“Well, I’ll warn you - he snores.”
Killian laughed again. “I probably do, too. Will you be coming by to see them?”
She sighed. “I can’t. Neal came into the restaurant tonight and his car hasn’t left the parking lot. He’s obviously planning on following me when I leave and he’s not even being sneaky about it.”
“Are you going to be alright?” he asked, concern very evident in his voice.
“Yeah. I’m going to spend the night at my friend Mary Margaret’s. She’s one of the other waitresses and her boyfriend is a police officer.”
“How did Neal act toward you when he came in?”
“He was awful. August was there for me, though.”
“I’m so sorry, Emma.”
“Thanks, but you don’t need to apologize. He’s a jerk and I’m the idiot who got involved with him.”
“Any man who treats a lovely lass like you the way he has is the idiot, Swan.”
Emma was glad he couldn’t see the blush she knew was filling her cheeks. “Well, in any case, I don’t know when I’ll be able to come by your house. I have a feeling Neal is going to be relentless for a few days. He’s furious about me taking the dogs and blocking his number.”
“Once you get to your friend’s place, why don’t you Facetime me so you can at least see them?”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“Of course not. I’m sure you’ll sleep better seeing for yourself that they are truly settled in here.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you in a little while, then. Thanks, Killian.”
“You really don’t have to keep thanking me.”
“I just want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’re doing. You’re a hero in my eyes.”
“I’m happy to help any way I can. I’ll be awaiting your call. Be careful, Emma.”
–”Sounds like a real loser”. Yep, my sentiments exactly, Killian.
–Walsh lives down the street from Neal? Worst. Neighborhood. Ever.
–Oh yes, the dogs sleeping in your room is the problem with your sex life. *eyeroll*
–I am sure Krystal approved of Killian’s idea of hiring a hit man, lol.
–Whew! I was kind of afraid Neal or Walsh would stop them from taking the dogs. Glad they made a clean escape.
–I love how protective Killian is–and how angry he is at the way Neal treats Emma.
–”Nobody makes a fool out of me!”
“Nobody has to, Neal. You do a good enough job of that all by yourself”. Lol! Good one, Emma. (Hopefully it doesn’t turn out to be a bad idea to antagonize him though. Of course with both August and Killian in her corner–and her being able to take care of herself anyway–he probably doesn’t stand a chance anyway.)
–As much as I would like Emma to spend more time with Killian, I’m glad she decided not to go to his house after work for her dogs’ sake. Good idea to stay with David and Mary Margaret too!
A Doggone Good Plan - Chapter 1 (An Offer Out of the Blue)
A CS Multi-chapter Modern AU
I intended to write this story as a birthday gift for @whimsicallyenchantedrose and hoped to at least start posting it before her birthday month was over. Alas, April came and went, and here it is, the end of May. I sincerely hope it was worth the wait, Jen!
Huge thanks to @kmomof4 for all her help and beta services for this story.
STORY SUMMARY: Desperate to save her beloved dogs when her ex-boyfriend makes threats against them, Emma Swan takes Killian Jones up on his offer to foster them.
*Please take note - this fic is very much anti-Neal and anti-Swanfire
RATING: M (for language, verbal abuse and gun violence)
WORDS: 2874 of 18,700 (There will be 6 chapters & a short epilogue)
Can also be read on Ao3
Story begins under the cut
*********
Emma Swan entered the back door of the restaurant, slamming it behind her. After preparing herself for her shift, she went into the employee’s bathroom to check her reflection in the mirror. Just as she expected, her eyes were red and puffy and her face splotchy. She grabbed a paper towel, ran it under cold water, and dabbed around her eyes, trying not to completely ruin her makeup. It already looked worse for wear from the crying she did on the way to work.
“Stupid, fucking Neal,” she ground out, using another towel to pat her face dry. “What did I ever see in him anyway?” When the woman in the mirror didn’t offer an answer, she sighed and tossed the wad of paper in the trash can on the way out the door.
She checked her table assignments, relieved to see she didn’t have any of the bigger tables. At least she wouldn’t have to deal with large parties of people tonight. Plastering on a smile, she headed to the booth in the corner to take their order.
After turning in their food order to the kitchen, she went to the bar to place their drink order.
“Hello, Emma,” the bartender greeted.
“Hey, August,” she replied. Of the three bartenders she worked with, he was her favorite. She recited the four drinks she needed, but August didn’t move to start making them.
“You seem upset,” he observed. “What did your rat bastard ex do now?”
“It’s that apparent, huh?”
“It is to me.”
She leaned on the bar, fighting back fresh tears. “He says he’s going to take my dogs to the animal shelter.”
“You’re kidding!” August blurted.
Emma shook her head. “I wish I was.”
“I thought he liked the dogs.”
“He does, or at least he acted like he did,” she shrugged. “He’s just doing it to get back at me. He knows I can’t have them in my apartment, so he’s threatening to take them to the shelter to try to get me to move back in with him.”
“What an absolute dick,” August said, as he set out the drink glasses.
“Yeah,” she sighed again. “What am I going to do? I can’t let Sophie and Oscar go to the animal shelter! They’re like my own kids. It was hard enough to leave them behind when I moved out, but I had no other choice. I had to get away from Neal and I couldn’t find a place on such short notice that would allow pets.” Her words ended on a stifled sob.
“I’d be willing to foster them until you find a place for you and your dogs.”
Emma’s tear-filled eyes swung to the man at the bar who had spoken with a British accent. He held his hand out to her. “Killian Jones.”
She hesitantly shook his offered hand. “Emma Swan.”
“I didn’t intend to eavesdrop, but it was difficult not to when I’m sitting right here. It sounds like you need some help.”
“I do. But why on earth would you offer to help a complete stranger?”
“Well, I love dogs,” he said, ticking the reasons off on his fingers, “I’m renting a home that allows pets and has a fenced-in backyard, and I abhor men who treat women spitefully.”
Emma turned to look at August, who was busy making the drinks while listening to the conversation. “Do you know this guy?”
“Killian’s been in several times. He’s a great tipper,” August grinned, as he set the four filled glasses on Emma’s tray.
Her mind was swirling. She had absolutely no reason to trust this guy, especially since her experiences with trusting men were less than stellar. Still, she had to do something to save her babies. There was a chance that Neal wasn’t serious about his threat, but she wasn’t willing to risk it. He was furious that she had the gall to move out and was vindictive enough to follow through with getting rid of them just to provoke her.
Turning around with her tray, she said, “I’ll tell you what - if you’re still here when I take my break in three hours, I’ll sit down and discuss this with you. If not, I’ll know you weren’t serious. Deal?”
“It’s a deal, lass,” he said with a smile.
Emma continued working her shift, occasionally returning to the bar for mixed drinks. Each time she did during the next two hours, Killian Jones was sitting in the same place, nursing a soda. Whenever she looked his way, he smiled warmly, then turned his attention back to the soccer game on the TV above the bar.
Forty-five minutes before her break, she went to turn in a drink order and noticed the man’s bar stool was empty. Her heart sank a little, because despite telling herself over and over again not to, she had still gotten her hopes up.
August took one look at her face and sent her a commiserating smile, “He’s in the restroom, Emma.”
She tried not to show the relief she felt. “I wasn’t worried. He’s free to leave if he wants,” she said with a shrug.
August rested his forearms on the bar to look her in the eyes. “I’ve been talking to him all evening. He seems like a good guy and he’s serious about taking the dogs.”
“Maybe it’s just his way of getting into my pants.”
“You know how good I am at reading people,” he reminded her. “I don’t get that impression. If I did, I’d toss him out on his ear.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see, I guess.” She recited the drinks she needed and August got to work.
Just as he was setting the last drink on her tray, Killian Jones returned. He gave her another smile, then checked his phone. “Your break is in about forty minutes, isn’t it, lass?”
“That’s right.”
“Great! I was hoping you would agree to eat with me. I already ordered some food to be ready at that time. August told me what you usually get to eat.”
Emma glanced at August, who was grinning at her. Looking back at Killian, she replied, “Um, sure. I always sit at the bar to eat anyway.”
“She vents to me while she has dinner,” August said.
“Hey, if you didn’t want to hear about people’s problems, you shouldn’t have become a bartender,” Emma huffed.
The two men were chuckling at her response as she picked up her tray and walked away.
The rest of the time until her break seemed to crawl. Finally, she was free to go to the restroom and wash her hands. Looking in the mirror this time, she saw a woman with a genuine smile on her face. She could attribute it to the very appreciative elderly couple to whom she delivered food just before her break, but if she was truly honest, it was also due to the fact that she would be eating dinner with Killian Jones. The man was seriously good-looking and his offer to help gave her hope that she could somehow keep her pets safe.
She pulled the elastic from her hair, combed through it with her fingers, and pulled it back into a neater ponytail. Then she applied some fresh lipstick from the tube she kept tucked in her pocket, feeling a little silly for wanting to make a good impression.
Exiting the restroom, she quickly made her way to the bar and slid onto the stool beside Killian. A steaming plate of chicken alfredo was waiting for her and she gave him a smile of appreciation before picking up her fork. “Thank you for putting in an order for me.”
“I hope August didn’t steer me wrong,” Killian said, getting ready to take his first bite of beef tips.
“He didn’t. I need the carbs to keep me going through the rest of my shift.”
They ate a few bites before he spoke. “Tell me about your dogs.”
Just the thought of her babies brought a smile to her face. “Sophie is an Old English Sheepdog that I’ve had since she was a puppy. She’s four years old now. Oscar is a…well, we’re really not sure of his breed. We got him a few months ago from a lady who was fostering him after he was picked up as a stray.” She pulled her phone from her apron and chose a picture to show him.
“May I?” he asked, wiping his hands on his napkin. At her nod, he used his fingers to zoom in on the picture. “He appears to have a nose and ears like a Shih Tzu, but seems a little bigger. Definitely a mixed breed.”
She was impressed with his apparent knowledge of dogs. “That’s what we thought, too.”
“I love his underbite.”
“Yeah,” she laughed. “That’s what got my attention when I first saw his picture on the website.”
“They’re both very cute dogs,” he said.
Emma nodded in agreement, locking her phone and tucking it away. “They’re my babies.” After taking another bite and swallowing, it was her turn to question him. “So, tell me about yourself, Killian Jones.”
“In case you haven’t already figured it out, I’m from England. I moved to Maine four months ago when the company I work for opened a new office here and asked me to help get it up and running.”
“So you’re just here temporarily?”
“I expect to be here for at least a year, and the way things are going, it may be even longer.”
“It’s that bad?” she asked, cringing slightly.
“Not really bad. It’s just going to take more training than they were planning.”
“What kind of business is it?” she asked before taking a bite of a breadstick.
“Digital design, specializing in boats, yachts and small ships.”
She finished chewing and swallowed. “Sounds interesting.”
“I enjoy it very much,” he agreed. “Now, getting back to your problem…”
“My problem is my asshole ex-boyfriend, as you already heard. I don’t know if he’ll actually follow through on taking them to the dog pound, but I have to take his threat seriously because…let’s just say I wouldn’t put anything past him.”
“Will you be able to get Sophie and Oscar away from him?”
“I’m pretty sure I can. I still have a key and I doubt he went to the trouble of having the locks changed. All I have to do is wait for him to go to work, then I can go in and get them.”
“What will he do when he finds out?”
She shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll be angry, but I’m used to dealing with his temper tantrums. It’s one of the main reasons why I ended our relationship.”
“I’m sorry, lass.”
“Thanks. Anyway, getting the dogs shouldn’t be a problem and he won’t be able to figure out where they are, so you shouldn’t have to worry about him bothering you.”
“I’m not worried about that,” he replied. “I just want to make sure you and your dogs are safe. This guy sounds like a bloody blighter.”
“Come again?” she asked, confused at the term.
“Contemptible idiot,” he clarified.
“Oh, that certainly describes him. Okay, let’s say I do get the dogs. Would I be able to visit them? I don’t even know where you live.”
“I rent a house three blocks from here, which is why I frequent this restaurant. And of course you would be welcome to visit them anytime I’m home,” he assured her. “They’re your dogs, after all.”
She considered him for a moment. “Look, I’m not going to beat around the bush. Are you making this offer so you can get into my pants?”
His eyes widened almost comically. “Get into your pants?”
“Seduce me,” she explained.
“I’m aware of what the phrase means,” he said with a rueful smile. “I’m just a bit shocked you would think that.”
“Well, I don’t know you.”
“Point taken,” he admitted, scratching behind his ear.
“There’s also the fact that I’m obviously a terrible judge of character when it comes to men.”
“Emma, I promise I have no ulterior motives.” His tone was soft and reassuring, and Emma found herself relaxing and beginning to trust him. “I simply heard your dilemma and have the ability to offer a solution.” He tugged his phone out of the front pocket of his jeans and searched for something. Finding what he wanted, he turned it so she could see it. “This is my house. It’s small, but could easily accommodate your dogs. Besides the backyard, there’s also a dog park a few blocks away. How are they on a leash?”
“They’re good. Sophie is better than Oscar because I trained her as a pup, but he’s a pretty calm, easy-going dog.” She looked at her phone to check the time. “Oh, gosh. My break is over in a couple of minutes.”
Killian grabbed a napkin and pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket. After scribbling down his phone number, he slid it across the bar to her. “Think about it, Emma. If you decide to take me up on the offer, give me a call. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume you figured out a different way to solve the problem.”
She folded the napkin and tucked it into her apron pocket along with her phone. “I really appreciate your willingness to help,” she said with a smile. “I have to get back to work. Thanks again, Killian.”
With that, she resumed her shift. When she returned to the bar to turn in an order ten minutes later, Killian Jones was gone.
*********
“Neal, why are you being such an absolute jerk?”
“It’s your own fault, Ems,” he said, and the calmness in his voice infuriated her even more. “If you hadn’t moved out, I wouldn’t have to get rid of these mutts.”
“And if you hadn’t cheated on me then pitched a temper tantrum like a child, I wouldn’t have had to move out!” Emma shouted.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Ems. It was only one time. Get over it already.”
She couldn’t believe this asshole. “Seriously? I’ll never be able to trust you again!”
“Would you stop being so dramatic? So I slept with someone else. What’s the big deal?”
Emma closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to keep her temper under some semblance of control. “How would you feel if I slept with someone else? You get mad when I even look at another guy!”
“Did you sleep with someone else?”
“Of course not! You and I were in a committed relationship and living together!”
“Which you obviously thought gave you permission to invade my privacy. You wouldn’t have even known about Tink if you hadn’t nosed around in my phone.”
“Wait, what…are you saying…” she sputtered. “Somehow you’re turning the blame for this on me?”
“Ignorance is bliss, Ems. The two of us would still be together if you would have just left well enough alone, but you had to go and ruin a good thing.”
“You’re the one who ruined a good thing by being a fucking cheater! But that’s not right, either, because evidently our relationship wasn’t good at all.”
“It was starting to go downhill. In fact, you were getting really boring. Always talking about bills and groceries and schedules…”
“You mean things that normal adults talk about?” she asked incredulously. “Grow up, Neal. Life isn’t one big party like you seem to think. Bills have to be paid on time or utilities get cut off!”
She heard him heave an overly dramatic sigh. “There you go again, Ems. Actually, I’m glad you moved out - it saved me the trouble of kicking you out when I finally had enough of your nagging and complaining.”
Emma felt hot tears sliding down her cheeks. How could the man she thought she loved be so heartless and cruel? Swallowing hard, she fought to keep the emotion out of her voice. “If that’s the way you feel, I’m glad I moved out, too, but please let me have my dogs. It’s not fair for them to be punished because we broke up.”
“You already told me you can’t have them at your apartment, so what would you do with them if I did give them to you?”
“I’ll figure something out. I just don’t want them taken to the shelter. They would hate it there.”
Neal didn’t respond for several seconds, then said flippantly, “You’re right. They would hate living in a shelter, so I guess the best solution is to have them euthanized.”
“What?! NO! Neal, you can’t be serious!”
“Oh, I’m completely serious,” he replied. “I’m sick of taking care of them. I hope you gave them a nice, long goodbye before you left, Ems, because it was the last time you’ll ever see them.”
The call ended before Emma could respond. She stared at the phone in horror. What if he really was angry enough to kill her pets? Panic began to set in and she forced herself to take deep breaths.
Once her mind cleared enough to think, she retrieved the napkin from her desk drawer and punched in Killian’s number.
*********
Thanks so much for reading. Please leave comments, like and reblog if you're so inclined. Every bit of nice feedback is appreciated.
Hey there, Jennifer!! I hope your birthday has been wonderful so far! I'm later in the day getting this posted than I might have hoped, but I wanted to do at least a little something to celebrate you. I've learned not to try to write a new story by a specific date (especially not towards the end of a hectic school year) so I am hoping this small thing might be a fun surprise instead!
I loved the WIP you posted the beginning of back in the fall "The Spirit in the Attic", so I am hoping that you might enjoy and be able to use this picset/cover art for it when you re-post it or add to it down the road. I hope you'll like it and I hope the rest of your day is even a fraction as amazing as you are. I'm blessed that you were the first wonderful friend and shipmate CS brought into my real life!
If anyone else who is seeing this is curious, you should definitely check out this story too!
"The Spirit in the Attic" by: @whimsicallyenchantedrose
A CS Modern AU birthday gift for @whimsicallyenchantedrose
Happiest of birthdays to my good friend @whimsicallyenchantedrose! I've been writing a story based on a prompt given to me by @hollyethecurious and since it features a very hateable Neal, what better gift to give to you, Jen! Unfortunately, the story isn't completely written yet, and it looks like it may end up being multiple chapters, so all I can post right now is this sneak peek.
Many thanks to @kmomof4 for her ideas (most of them!) and being a beta for the story.
BTW - that's my own dog Oscar in the bottom left corner. We did have an Old English Sheepdog named Sophie, but she passed away in 2004. I didn't have a picture I could use of her, so that's just a sweet dog I found on Google that looks a lot like Sophie did.
*********
Emma Swan went through the back entrance of the restaurant, slamming the door behind her. After preparing herself for her shift, she went into the employee’s bathroom to check her reflection in the mirror. Just as she expected, her eyes were red and puffy. She grabbed a paper towel, ran it under cold water, and dabbed around her eyes, trying not to completely ruin her makeup. It already looked worse for the wear from the crying she did on the way to work.
“Stupid, fucking Neal,” she grumbled, using another towel to pat her face dry. “What did I ever see in him anyway?” When the woman in the mirror didn’t offer an answer, she sighed and tossed the wad of paper in the trash can on the way out the door.
She checked her table assignments, relieved to see she didn’t have any of the bigger tables. At least she wouldn’t have to deal with large parties of people tonight. Plastering on a smile, she headed to the booth in the corner to take their order.
After turning their food order into the kitchen, she went to the bar to place their drink order.
“Hello, Emma,” the bartender greeted.
“Hey, August,” she replied. Of the three bartenders she worked with, he was her favorite. She recited the four drinks she needed, but August didn’t move to start making them.
“You seem upset,” he observed. “What did your rat bastard ex do now?”
“It’s that apparent, huh?”
“It is to me.”
She leaned on the bar, fighting back fresh tears. “He says he’s going to take my dogs to the animal shelter.”
“You’re kidding!” August blurted.
Emma shook her head. “I wish I was.”
“I thought he liked the dogs.”
“He does, or at least he acted like he did,” she shrugged. “He’s just doing it to get back at me. He knows I can’t have them in my apartment, so he’s threatening to take them to the shelter to try to get me to move back in with him.”
“What an absolute dick,” August said, as he set out the drink glasses.
“Yeah,” she sighed again. “What am I going to do? I can’t let Sophie and Oscar go to the animal shelter! They’re like my own kids. It was hard enough to leave them behind when I moved out, but I had no other choice. I had to get away from Neal and I couldn’t find a place on such short notice that would allow pets.” Her words ended on a stifled sob.
“I’d be willing to foster them until you find a place for you and your dogs.”
Emma’s tear-filled eyes swung to the man at the bar who had spoken with a British accent. He held his hand out to her. “Killian Jones.”
She hesitantly shook his offered hand. “Emma Swan.”
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it was difficult not to when I’m sitting right here. It sounds like you need some help.”
“I do. But why on earth would you offer to help a complete stranger?”
“Well, I love dogs, I’m renting a home that allows pets and has a fenced-in backyard, and I abhor men who treat women spitefully,” he said, ticking the reasons off on his fingers.
Emma turned to look at August, who was busy making the drinks while listening to the conversation. “Do you know this guy?”
“Killian’s been in several times. He’s a great tipper,” August grinned, as he set the four filled glasses on Emma’s tray.
Her mind was swirling. She had absolutely no reason to trust this guy, especially since her experiences with trusting men were less than stellar. Still, she had to do something to save her dogs. There was a chance that Neal wasn’t serious about his threat, but there was no way she would risk it. He was furious that she had the gall to move out and was vindictive enough to follow through with getting rid of them just to spite her.
Turning around with her tray, she said, “I’ll tell you what - if you’re here when I take my break in three hours, I’ll sit down and discuss this with you. If not, I’ll know you weren’t serious. Deal?”
Oh, I'm so excited about this! I knew you were writing this story, of course, but I had no idea it was for my birthday! Can't wait to read the rest of it!
Fluffy Fridays—Chapter 177: The Four Disappointments of Killian's Birthday
Fluffy Fridays—Chapter 177: The Four Disappointments of Killian's Birthday
Summary: A series of unrelated, fluffy one shots featuring Killian Jones and Emma Swan and the relationship that makes us all swoon. Will contain both canon and AU stories. My contribution to Operation Rainbow Kisses and Unicorn Stickers (aka, my attempt to drown out the season 4 finale angst with ridiculous levels of fluff.)
Other Chapters: (from the beginning) (previous chapter)
Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list): @sailormew4 @annaamell @flslp87 @emmateo26 @bethacaciakay
Emma cursed as she dropped the cake pan and then shook her burned hand as tears filled her eyes.
Everything was going wrong today. Everything.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Last May, she’d won the final battle, and the entire town had finally gotten their happy beginnings. She and Killian had taken a well deserved honeymoon, sailing the Jolly Roger down the coast and to the Caribbean. No new villains had shown up, no existential crises.
Wasn’t their happy beginning life supposed to be perfect now?
Don’t get her wrong. She was happy, happier than she’d ever been. She had a husband she loved, a family, good friends, a strong community, and a town where the worst crisis she had to deal with was Doc disturbing the peace after one of his brothers crashed into his Miata. She wouldn’t give up this life she and Killian had built for themselves for anything.
But into every life–even the happiest–sometimes the rain would fall (or more appropriately, the snow). Today was one of those days.
Last fall, when Killian and her parents had planned and organized an elaborate, town-wide 32nd birthday party for her, something had occurred to Emma: In all the time they’d known him, they’d never had a birthday celebration for Killian.
The thought made her incredibly sad. After all he’d done for the town, after all he’d done for her, after all he meant to all of them, they’d never even taken the time to ask him when his birthday was, let alone celebrate it.
That night, after the party as they lay cuddling in bed together, she’d asked him about his birthdays, and his answer had only increased her sadness.
“I hardly remember my birthday anymore, Swan,” he’d said, his hand rubbing her back as he held her to him. “It’s been so long since I celebrated it, so long since anyone gave a damn about it, that even I forget to mark the day most years.”
It had taken some prompting from her, but in the end, she’d gotten him to admit that he’d been born on January 26, 1781, and from that moment on, she’d been planning it–the most amazing 238th birthday party anyone had ever had.
Granted, it was probably the only 238th birthday party anyone had ever had, but that was entirely beside the point.
She and Henry had spent hours planning the party–to be held at Granny’s on his birthday night, with the whole town present–a huge cake, gifts, his favorite meal, the rum flowing freely, the whole nine yards. She’d come up with some excuse to get him there that evening, and then everyone would jump up and yell “Surprise”
The only problem? She hadn’t accounted for the fact that January was right smack-dab in the heart of a northeastern winter, and what tends to happen in the heart of a northeastern winter?
Snowstorms.
It was just her luck, that one of the biggest ones their area had seen in decades blew in the day before Killian’s birthday. What the rest of the Land Without Magic had named the storm, Emma neither knew nor cared, but they’d christened the storm Winter Storm Ingrid–for obvious reasons. They’d been under a Winter Storm Warning, a Blizzard Warning, and a Cold Weather warning for nearly 48 hours by the time Killian’s birthday dawned cold and white.
She and Killian had been working nearly around the clock for the last two days, being the town’s only law enforcement. Oh her dad still stepped in to help out from time to time, but after he’d pulled a double shift, she’d finally sent him back home to be with her mom and the kid while she and Killian soldiered on, responding to the endless calls to the sheriff’s station–slide offs, small fires from faulty space heaters, the electricity failing, drunk and disorderly conduct. It was utter chaos–so much so, it made Ingrid’s spell of shattered sight seem like a walk in the park.
Finally, at 11 am on Killian’s birthday morning, her dad had returned to the office with reinforcements–all seven of the dwarfs–and absolutely insisted the two of them get some rest.
“We got your back, sister!” Leroy said. “This storm is nothing a little hard work and dwarf ingenuity can’t handle!”
They’d returned exhausted to their house, only to find the second disappointment of Killian’s birthday–the freezing rain that had kicked the winter storm off had downed a powerline, leaving them utterly without power–or heat.
Killian winked at her and made some over-the-top innuendos about ways they could keep each other warm, but in the end, they were both too tired to make good on any of them and had fallen fully clothed into bed, asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow.
When Emma awoke at 2 pm on Killian’s birthday afternoon, the third disappointment of Killian’s birthday became glaringly obvious. It was still bad out there. Really bad. Regina had just declared a level 3 travel restriction and warned that she would start throwing fireballs at anyone who was stupid enough to be out on the roads for anything less serious than a heart attack.
There was nothing for it. Killian’s birthday party would have to be cancelled.
It was quite a blow. All their hard work, all their planning, ruined. With the travel restriction, even Henry, who had spent the last few days at Regina’s, would be prevented from celebrating with them.
Undaunted, Emma had decided to make the best of the far-from-optimal situation. Maybe they couldn’t have a town-wide birthday party. Maybe they couldn’t celebrate with their son or other family. Maybe they couldn’t even leave their house until their next shift at the sheriff’s station, but they were together. They could have their own birthday celebration, right? She could whip up something for dinner and they could eat it and then cuddle in front of the fire.
And what was a birthday celebration without a cake? Granted, her culinary skills were….less than gourmet…and baking would be made even more difficult by their lack of electricity, but she was resourceful! She had a fire, basic ingredients, a cake pan and the internet to search for no-oven cake recipes. She could do this!
Or so she thought.
She’d managed to mix cake ingredients and fashion a makeshift oven out of a dutch oven over the fire. All seemed to be going well until she noticed thick smoke seeping out of the pot. She’d pulled the whole concoction out of the fire, only to find not a fluffy vanilla cake, but a charred, black monstrosity.
And it was at that moment that she discovered the hitherto unbeknownst to her hole in her oven mitt.
So here she was, sitting back on her heels in front of the fire, her hand burning, tears of pain and frustration streaming down her face, finally ready to admit defeat.
“Swan?” Killian called in alarm, rushing to her side, “what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“No,” she said, before looking down at her smarting appendage and amending her answer, “well, technically yes. I did burn myself, but that’s not….Killian, it’s ruined! It’s all ruined!”
Killian helped her to her feet and over to the sink, where they discovered the fourth disappointment of Killian’s birthday–given the fact they had well water, when the electricity was out, they didn’t even have running water.
“Can this day get any worse?” she ground out.
Killian chuckled. “Don’t tempt fate, Darling. Here, wait a moment, I’ll be right back.” She watched him step out the front door and gather a large pail full of fluffy, white snow before returning to her and placing her burned hand in the icy pile.
It felt good, so good against her burning skin, and she let out a quick sigh of relief before the tears started flowing again.
“Killian,” she said, “It’s your birthday, and I wanted everything to be so perfect for you. We planned a party, and then the blizzard happened. I was going to make you a cake, and then…well”
She gestured aimlessly toward the dutch oven where her confection was still listlessly releasing wisps of smoke.
Killian glanced skeptically toward it. “That was meant to be a cake?”
She glared at him, and he raised his hands in surrender.
“The point is,” she continued, “I wanted you to have a birthday that made up for all the lonely ones in your past. Killian, you mean everything to me–to Henry, to our family–and I wanted to do something to show you that.”
Killian kissed her softly, and when he pulled away, she saw tears in his eyes. “Swan…” he swallowed hard, taking a moment to contain his emotions, “I’m honored and humbled. I don’t need a fancy party. I don’t need a cake. I don’t need any of it, as long as you’re by my side, but the fact that you would go to such trouble just for me…I don’t even have words.”
She leaned forward and kissed him hard, her non-injured hand coming up to pull him toward her. “You really aren’t disappointed?”
He chuckled. “Disappointed is the last word I’d use. Swan, you are bloody brilliant. Amazing.”
“But your party….”
He waved her concern away. “It’s been a few centuries since my last birthday party. Postponing this one for a few days is no hardship. In the meantime, I have you all to myself on my birthday, and that is a delicacy far more enjoyable than even the most delectable cake. What say we dress your hand and then adjourn to our bedroom where I can properly express my gratitude.”
Notes:
–Surprise, I’m back! I don’t even know how long it’s been since I last added to this collection, but one of my New Year’s resolutions was to write at least 2500 words per week. (I have spectacularly failed pretty much all month…but the year is still young!)
–If you live in the United States, you probably are well aware of where I got the idea for this fic. Last weekend, a powerful winter storm slammed a good 40 states, leaving devastation in its wake. Luckily my area didn’t have the freezing rain or the power outages, but we did get a lot of snow, followed by bitter cold, all of which trapped me in my house for a good 4 days. What better way to spend the time than to make my favorite fictional pair suffer the way I was suffering.
–Add to that the fact that Monday was Colin O’Donoghue’s birthday, and I had all the perfect ingredients for a Fluffy Friday fic! With regard to the date I came up with for the day of Killian’s birth, that required a bit of math. (Ew! math!) I decided Killian would physically be the same age as Colin, so I figured out the year Colin was born and subtracted 200 years. As to “238”--Colin was 38 in January of 2019, the winter after OUAT ended.
–Up next: Who knows what or when? Any suggestions? I could be persuaded to write a prompt that catches my fancy.
12 Days of Captain Swan Reruns--Bonus day 2 (of 2): New York Christmas Serenade, part 2)
Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t! One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia. A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns. So here you go! I’ve paired down my rerun posting schedule for this year (mostly because the holidays snuck up on me this year!), so I will have 1 story/day up until Christmas Eve, and then a New Year’s rerun posting New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Did I leave off one of your favorites? Check out my full gamut of Christmas fics [here]
Word Count: 3516
Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list):
CS Genre: Canon Divergence (missing year between 3a and 3b)
“Mom! Wake up!” Henry said, shaking her shoulder. “It’s Christmas morning!”
Emma groaned as she woke up. It was early. Way too early. By the look of the sky from her bedroom window, it would still be Christmas morning for another several hours yet. It could barely even be called dawn.
“Alright, Kid, I’m up,” she said on a yawn, reaching for her robe and slippers. “I know you’re all about opening the rest of your presents, but you’re going to have to wait for the coffee to brew. You know I’m not awake before I’ve had my first two cups.”
“Don’t worry about that!” Henry said, “Killian already made coffee. Now he’s working on breakfast.”
Emma froze. Killian. How had she forgotten the handsome stranger was still there?
Not long after Henry opened his gifts, Emma had glanced out the window to see it snowing with a vengeance. Turning on the TV, she quickly found out why. They were in the opening stages of a monster blizzard.
Emma shot Killian a concerned look. “You have a place to stay?” she asked. “Your home close?”
“I’m afraid not, love,” Killian said. “I’ve yet to secure lodgings for myself. It’s no matter, though. I’ve weathered many a storm.”
The thought of turning him out into the blizzard had seemed beyond heartless. Who let a guest of theirs go out and freeze to death in a blizzard? Particularly one her son seemed to have an inexplicable bond with—especially after getting that storybook? Particularly one she felt such a tie to.
“Look,” she’d said stiffly. “It’s nasty out there. If you want, you can crash on our couch. Can’t guarantee it’s the most comfortable bed you’ll ever sleep on, but it’s bound to be better than wandering around on the streets of New York in the middle of a blizzard, right?”
His eyes had lit up as though she’d offered him the best gift of his life. “It would be an honor to sleep on your couch, Swan,” he’d said in wonder. “You’ve no idea how much it means to me that you’ve offered.”
Now, in the (still barely there) light of day, Emma began to second guess her magnanimous gesture. What did she even know about this Killian guy really? What kind of a mother lets a strange guy—who could be a serial killer for all she knew—crash on her couch with her son in the apartment.
You’re safe with him. He’d never harm you.
Now where had that thought come from? It made no sense that she’d know that, but somehow she could feel the truth of the statement all the way to her bones. Killian Jones was no threat to her or to Henry.
(Well…except perhaps to her heart. Only one night in the man’s company—one very platonic night—and she could already feel herself falling for him. What was with her? Emma Swan did not get crushes like that! She had her heart locked up as tightly as Fort Knox. No way she lets feelings in!)
Emma took a tentative step from her bedroom and couldn’t help the groan of appreciation that escaped her. It smelled amazing out there. Coffee—strong coffee from the scent of it—percolating, bacon sizzling, pancakes on the griddle. She took it back. Not only was Killian no threat to her, she may have to just invite him to live with the two of them.
“Morning love,” He called with a cheery smile—how did he look that chipper after only getting a few hours of sleep on a lumpy sofa? “I trust you slept well?”
“What little amount of time the kid let me sleep,” she said on a yawn. “He’s lucky it’s Christmas or no way I’d let him get away with waking me up at the butt crack of dawn.”
Killian chuckled. “No I suppose not. I know full well a man is taking his life in his hands when he wakes you. There was one morning on Never…er…I mean…you look like someone who enjoys her sleep.”
“Nice recovery,” Henry said under his breath. “Making her think you’re crazy is definitely not how you make headway with Operation Captain Swan.”
“Never? Operation Captain Swan?” Emma asked in bewilderment. “What are the two of you talking about? How do you know my sleeping habits? And when did you and Henry suddenly become best friends? ”
“Not to worry, Swan,” Killian said, scratching away at that spot on his neck again. “This morning the lad merely told me that the way to your heart is through your stomach.”
“The way to my…Are you…are you saying you want to get to my heart?” No way she was telling him that very organ was pounding so hard at the very notion she was surprised he couldn’t hear it.
In a blink Killian’s embarrassment faded away to be replaced by pure flirtatious mischief. “Oh darling. You have no idea,” he purred.
She held his gaze for as long as she could (which…ended up being less than five seconds), and then she hid behind her favorite defense—sarcasm. “Yeah, well, you gonna take that bacon out of the pan or just let it burn while you act like an idiot?”
He shot her a wounded look. “Of course I had no intention of burning your victuals, Swan! It took me quite some time to determine the proper way to utilize your cooking box, and now that I have, I have no intention of ruining a perfectly good breakfast.”
“It’s called a stove, Hook,” Henry muttered under his breath.
Seriously, when did the two of them become all buddy-buddy? And where was this guy from that he didn’t even know what a stove was?
She had no further time to ponder the big questions of her life, though, as Killian slid a plate of food and a mug of coffee in her direction. At the first bite, Emma moaned in ecstasy. The man could cook.
Looking up, she caught the positively sinful look in Killian’s eye. “I quite like that sound Darling. Perhaps I might endeavor to elicit it once more…sometime when we’re alone.”
“La, la, la,” Henry said, sticking his fingers in his ears. “Kid in the room guys!”
Emma felt her face flame, so she did the only reasonable thing, she turned a withering glare at the idiot in leather currently seated at the head of the table. “In your dreams Jones.”
“You have no idea.”
Emma glared again, expecting to see the same sinful look in his eyes, but what she found instead floored her. Pure, unvarnished longing. It was the look of a man desperately in love. One who feared he’d never have a chance with the girl of his dreams.
The look called to her, and she suddenly had the insane urge to reach over, grab his hand and reassure him that he would find happiness one day.
Fortunately her hand closest to Killian was currently occupied shoveling as much food as possible into her mouth.
Breakfast was a short affair, eaten hastily. While Henry was normally a pretty patient kid, waiting to open presents on Christmas morning would test the patience of any kid.
“Why don’t you go get your presents organized,” Emma said, getting to her feet. “I’ll just take care of these dishes and I’ll be there in a sec.”
“Nonsense, Swan,” Killian said with a hand to her arm…a soft pat that felt almost like a caress. “Go have Christmas morning with your son. I’m perfectly capable of righting the galley.”
“You sure? I hate to have you cook breakfast and then stick you with dishes too.”
“Aye,” he said with a tender smile. “Believe me when I say your happiness…yours and your lad’s…ensure my happiness.”
She smiled, impulsively reaching over and squeezing his hand. “Thanks.”
“You are most welcome.”
The following hour passed in a veritable blur, Henry moving from present to present. She supposed maybe she spoiled him with all the Christmas gifts she’d gotten him, but he was such a good kid and so genuinely grateful for everything he got. And then, of course, there was always that little lost girl inside of her that would never forget what it was like to wake up on Christmas morning to a bare tree and a lack of family. If it made her go a little overboard with her kid…that was just the way it was.
Just as the last gift—a brand new journal and gel pen (the kid liked to write)—was unwrapped, the couch seat beside her sagged, and Emma looked over to see Killian by her side. Not only by her side, but close enough she could feel the heat of his body against her. It was…distracting to say the least.
“Um…” she said, clearing her throat and trying not to sound like a complete fool, “I guess that’s it. The gifts are all unwrapped.”
“Not quite, Swan,” he said in a low, caressing voice. “I’ve one yet to bestow on you.”
“Me?” she asked. “You got me a gift?”
“Aye,” he said with a nod, turning away to rummage through his satchel once again. I saw this and thought of you.”
“Th…thank you,” she said, taking the long, thin velvet-covered box he held out to her. Opening it, she found a diamond and opal pendant in the shape of a swan attached to a fine, silver chain. It was gorgeous.
“I know you don’t remember, love,” he said softly, “but this pendant reminds me of our first adventure…one of the most satisfying adventures of my life, and it belongs with no one but you.”
“The beanstalk!:” Henry said from his place on the floor, still surrounded by his Christmas loot. “It reminds you of the beanstalk.”
“Aye,” Killian said. “That it does indeed.”
It should have been completely nonsensical this conversation her son was having with her…pirate (No! Not her pirate!), but somehow it simply wasn’t. Something deep within her wanted to nod along and agree with them.
Before she could second guess herself, Emma leaned over and impulsively hugged Killian. “Thanks! I love it. And…I mean, it’s still snowing out there. If you, you know, want to keep crashing on the couch for the next few days, I’m okay with that.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Hey Hook,” Henry said from his spot at the kitchen table a week later. “Tonight’s the big night! The moment of truth!”
Killian looked around in alarm, afraid Swan had overheard the lad’s impetuous words.
“Don’t worry,” Henry said, noting the direction of his gaze. “She’s not here. She had a quick bowl of cereal and then headed out after her latest skip. She said she had a really promising lead.”
Killian nodded in relief. Tonight might be the moment of truth; the moment he took a chance; the moment he tested the lad’s theory that Swan had feelings for him as well, but he wished to remain as circumspect as possible until the big moment.
One week prior, on Christmas Eve, Killian and Henry had remained awake long after Swan retired for the night.
“You remember, Henry?” Killian asked, as soon as Emma entered her bed chamber. “Truly?”
“Yeah!” Henry said. “I remember everything—Storybrooke, my other mom, Neverland, Pan’s curse, everything! Killian, how did you get to us?”
“Never mind the details, lad,” Killian said, waving off the question he was not yet ready to answer. “Suffice it to say it’s a wonder what one can accomplished when he is sufficiently motivated.”
“And you wanted to get back to mom.”
“In part,” Killian said, “but I’m afraid there’s a far more pressing concern. A curse.”
“Again?” Henry asked, with a sigh. “Who cast it this time?”
Killian shrugged. “I’ve no idea. I…found myself separated from the group quite soon after our return to the Enchanted Forest. I’ve no idea what your grandparents and the others got mixed up in after I left.”
“Then how did you know to come for us?”
“I received a missive, perhaps from your grandmother,” Killian said. “I set about securing passage back to your realm the moment I read the news. I know nothing aside from the fact that the entire realm has once again been transported to Storybrooke. I can only assume the need for your mother’s savior services is quite urgent.”
“So let’s wake mom up, tell her what’s going on,” Henry said. “We could be headed back to Storybrooke as soon as this snowstorm stops.”
Killian shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s not as simple as all that, Henry. What do you imagine would be your mother’s reaction should I tell her she’s the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming and she must go back to a town called Storybrooke to break a curse, no doubt cast by a fairy tale villain?”
Henry grimaced. “Good point.”
The two were silent for a moment, and then Henry brightened once again. “I know how you can make mom remember!” he said.
“Aye? What do you propose?”
“True Love’s Kiss.”
Killian sucked in a long breath. “Come again lad?”
“True Love’s Kiss! It can break any curse. It’s perfect! All you have to do is kiss her and she’ll remember who she was,” Henry said.
“Henry…” Killian began.
“No, really!” Henry said. “You love my mom, don’t you?”
“Aye, more than you know, but at present your mother doesn’t even know me, let alone love me.”
“Well that’s no problem,” Henry said. “I think she was starting to have feelings for you back in Storybrooke. All you have to do is get her to fall in love with you again! We could call it…Operation Captain Swan!”
Was that all he must do?
Killian had to admit to more than a bit of skepticism in his ability to win Swan’s heart in a short period of time, but as no other solution occurred to either of them, Killian finally agreed to the plan.
It was a two-pronged approach.
Over the ensuing week Henry and Killian worked in tandem to help Emma remember her true identity. It was little things—short vignettes from their true lives. Discussions of the storybook. Talk about home and family.
While this was occurring, Killian wooed Emma as tenderly as the most ardent lover—procuring her flowers and small trinkets, preparing her meals, giving her a listening ear, supporting her, praising her, spending quality time with her and Henry.
He was making headway; he knew he was. Sometimes he’d look up and find her gaze on him—happy, speculative, ardent. He knew that look. It was the look of someone falling in love.
Then, of course there was their sleeping arrangement. Killian had spent the first three nights on the couch in Swan’s living quarters, but just after dinner on the evening of the fourth day, Emma approached him, her eyes looking anywhere but at him.
“Look, Killian,” she’d said, after being sure that Henry was otherwise occupied, “I know that couch can’t be comfortable. If you want, you can, you know, share my bed.”
His eyes had widened in shock. Had she just suggested….?
“Just to sleep!” she quickly clarified. “I wasn’t, you know, propositioning you. I just thought..” She shrugged. “I just thought there’s plenty of room in my queen sized bed. If we each keep to our own side it doesn’t have to be awkward.”
Killian grinned slowly, ducked his chin and swaggered in her direction. “Oh I assure you, darling. There would be nothing awkward about it. If you wished to share your bed with me, you needn’t use the excuse of my discomfort on your couch. You need only ask.”
“Killian!” she growled.
He grinned and then sobered. “Thank you for your offer, Swan. I swear to be a perfect gentleman. I’m always a gentleman.”
For a moment, Killian could swear Emma remembered the last time he’d uttered those words—at the top of the beanstalk where their story had begun, but then her eyes had cleared and she’d nodded. “Good,” she said.
But despite her words about remaining separate, the next morning, Killian had woken with Emma in his arms, her head pillowed on his chest, her arms around him, her hair spilling over his arm.
It was pure bliss.
The next night when they retired for bed, Swan had made no mention of the arrangement—or any changes she wished for it. She’d merely lain on her side, reached for him, and pulled his hand around her middle. He’d had the luxury of holding her through the night, this time with her full knowledge and desire.
Aye, Killian was making progress in fulfilling his vow to win her heart; there was no mistake about it, but his progress was far too slow.
“You need to make a big gesture,” Henry finally said on the morning of New Year’s Eve. “Really put all your cards out there. I’ve got the perfect idea.”
“Aye? And what might that be?”
“A New Year’s kiss!” Henry said. “It’s a tradition here in our realm. People kiss each other just as it turns midnight on New Year’s Day. The person you share your New Year’s kiss with is supposed to be with you all year long. It’s perfect.”
Killian had put forth a token protest at first, but he couldn’t deny the idea had merit. He knew his Swan. He knew that she was afraid to give her heart—but he knew she craved love and commitment even more. She held herself at a distance because she feared the people she allowed herself to care for would leave her. Perhaps if he bestowed this “New Year’s kiss” on her, it would show her that he was in this for the long haul; that he would never willingly leave her.
Aye, tonight would be the night.
~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~
Emma settled on the sofa, pulled her legs up beneath her, and ducked under Killian’s arm. It should scare her how comfortable she’d become with him, how much she’d opened up to him, how very close she was to giving her heart to him. It should terrify her and make her run as fast as she could in the opposite direction.
The thing was…it didn’t scare her. Not at all. It simply felt right.
The room was bathed in darkness save for the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree and the light from the TV.
“So, I’ve been to Times Square for the ball drop a time or two,” Emma explained, “but, I don’t know. It’s overrated. It’s so crowded you can barely move, and it’s freezing…and then trying to get out of the crowd and go home afterward…just more of a headache than it’s worth. Why go through all the trouble when I can just catch it from the comfort of my own living room?”
“I must admit,” Killian said, shooting her a warm look. “I’d far prefer watching these events unfold here, with you in my arms than in that crush of humanity.”
Emma felt her stomach swoop. It was uncanny how Killian Jones managed to say these things—that would sound like the worst of clichés if spoken by anyone else—and make her melt like a pile of goo at his feet. She caught his eye and held it for long moments—she had no idea how long, until Henry caught her attention.
“Hey guys!” he said, “pay attention! They’re going to start the count down any second!”
“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six!…”
The excited crowd had just finished chanting “five” when Emma’s entire world turned on its axis.
“Emma,” Killian said softly, urgently, “I’m in love with you. I love you with everything within me. I’d like nothing better than to spend the remainder of the year, the remainder of my life with you.”
And as the ball dropped amid the shouting crowd, Killian leaned over and joined his lips with hers. For a moment, Emma sat frozen, and then she was kissing him back, caressing his stubbled cheek, running a hand through his hair, moving so close she was nearly in his lap.
Emma felt the strangest energy bubble up within her, and suddenly it burst from her—burst from both of them, forming something resembling a rainbow colored shock wave.
Emma pulled away with a gasp, memories rushing in one after another. “Hook!” she said, finally. “I remember!”
On the other side of the room Henry cheered, pumping his fist in the air. “Yes!”
Beside her, Killian grinned. “Miss me?”
“What do you think?” Emma asked…just before kissing him so thoroughly Henry was soon making gagging sounds on his side of the room.
Over the next several years there would be plenty of curses to break, villains to defeat, even time to travel through, but during that night, that magical night when Emma and Killian shared True Love’s Kiss, nothing could have dampened their spirits. With the magic of the night and the magic of their love, Emma knew whoever cast the latest curse didn’t stand a chance.
Note: And there we have it! The end of the 12 days (plus 2 bonus days) of CS Christmas reruns! I hope you had a wonderful holiday season and your 2026 is the best year yet!
12 Days of Captain Swan Reruns--Bonus day 1 (of 2): New York Christmas Serenade, pt. 1
Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t! One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia. A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns. So here you go! I’ve paired down my rerun posting schedule for this year (mostly because the holidays snuck up on me this year!), so I will have 1 story/day up until Christmas Eve, and then a New Year’s rerun posting New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Did I leave off one of your favorites? Check out my full gamut of Christmas fics [here]
Word Count: 2838
Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list):
Written in 2016, this CS canon divergence is a re-imagining of what New York City Serenade might have looked like if Killian had found Emma’s NY apartment just before Christmas. Can the magic of the season help Killian bring back Emma’s and Henry’s memories?
CS Genre: Canon Divergence (missing year between 3a and 3b)
A/N: I don’t really know what time of year it was when Killian showed up at Emma’s New York apartment door, but for the sake of this canon divergence, I’m saying he showed up the day before Christmas Eve.
Emma shouldn’t complain; she really shouldn’t. She had a job she loved, she had a roof over her head (a really nice roof at that), plenty of food to eat, a son she loved more than she thought it was possible to love another person, and it was the day before Christmas Eve. She should be perfectly happy.
But she couldn’t help but think something was missing.
At first she thought she was just dealing with the inevitable melancholy that comes after the breakup of a longtime (well…longtime for her. When you’re used to one night stands, having a boyfriend for eight months seems like an eternity) relationship, but that wasn’t quite it. Honestly? She’d barely even thought about Walsh since she broke up with him just before Halloween. He’d been okay she guessed, but…well, there was no spark there.
No, it was more than breakup blues. It felt more like loneliness. She glanced over her shoulder at Henry who sat at the breakfast table garnishing their mugs of hot cocoa with both cinnamon and little mini candy canes (in honor of the season), and the guilt hit. She loved Henry, of course she did, but she couldn’t help but feel like someone…maybe several someones…were missing.
Emma had just passed a plate of chocolate chip pancakes to an excited Henry when the knock came at her apartment door. That was…odd.
“We expecting someone?” Henry asked, already beginning to dig into his breakfast.
“No,” she said, her brow furrowed. “Just…stay here kid while I see what this is all about.”
Emma didn’t know what she expected to see when she opened her door, but a pirate in full black leather and guyliner wasn’t it. Nor did she expect the look of utter joy—like she’d just given him the best Christmas gift in the world—that crossed his face at the sight of her.
“Swan,” he breathed, blue eyes lighting up. “At last.”
The pirate stepped forward, looking like he was about to embrace her. For a moment, her mind went blank. There was something familiar about this man, although she was pretty sure she’d remember meeting him before. Aside from his odd choice of clothing, he was hot. Not just kind of hot. Like burn-all-of-New-York-to-the-ground hot.
For half a second, she almost let him envelope her in a hug, and then common sense returned. Emma Swan did not just stand there and let crazy guys touch her. She put a hand to his chest, warding him off. “Do I know you?” she asked in a voice she determinedly made hard and unyielding.
“I’m…an old friend,” he said. He wasn’t being entirely truthful, though he wasn’t lying either…not exactly. What was going on here?
“Look, Swan,” he said urgently, taking a tiny step forward once more, “I know you don’t remember me, but I need you to trust me. Your family is in great danger. They need you; they need the savior.”
“Look buddy,” Emma said, “I don’t know who you are or what kind of delusions you have, but my whole family is right there at that breakfast table. My son is the only one who needs me.”
“You simply don’t remember, love,” he began, “I can help you…”
“It’s time for you to go,” she said, giving a little push to his chest until he’d crossed her threshold, “go peddle your crazy to someone else.”
With that she shut the door in his protesting face.
“Who was that?” Henry asked around a bite of pancake.
“No idea,” Emma said.
“Really?” Henry asked. “Are you sure? It’s just…something about him seems really familiar.”
“Must be a coincidence,” Emma said with a shrug as she sat down to her breakfast. “But enough about psychos who show up at our door. Let’s talk about the weekend! We’ve got a lot of Christmas-ing to fit into the next three days that I have off. What do you want to do first?”
Emma tried to forget the handsome pirate, she truly did. She tried to forget him as she and Henry went ice skating. She tried to forget him as they rolled out Christmas cookies and cut them into festive shapes. She tried to forget him while Henry played his video game and she covertly wrapped his presents. She tried to forget him when she and Henry sat down to watch Elf that night. She tried to forget him as she lay in her big, lonely bed.
But somehow the mystery pirate man wouldn’t leave her thoughts no matter what she did. When she woke up on Christmas Eve morning after having a weird dream where she and the pirate guy were in this weird jungle place and she kissed the living daylights out of him, she gave up. Clearly she was going to get no peace until she found him again and heard him out, found out what the hell he’d meant by “your family needs you”.
As luck would have it, Emma didn’t even need to dig into her bail bonds person bag of tricks to locate her target. She’d promised Henry she’d take him to the zoo in Central Park that day to see the Christmas festivities. And who should she see sitting on a park bench just outside the zoo’s entrance, but pirate man?
The man got to his feet as soon as she was in sight. “Emma!” he said in excitement. “Fancy seeing you here, love.”
“Seriously?” she asked, adding extra briskness to her voice to counteract the way the butterflies had started to swoop in her stomach the moment she saw him. “You are a stalker.”
“Not at all,” he said. “It was you who followed me here. Perhaps you, Swan, are the stalker here, aye?” Turning to her left, the man nodded at her son. “Henry! Good to see you! Enjoying your Christmas holidays?”
Henry gave the man a suspicious glance and then broke into a smile. “Yeah, it’s been great! Three full days with mom before she has to go back to work…amazing! But…do I know you?”
The man ruffled his hair. “I’d wager not, at least not to your knowledge. Killian Jones at your service, lad!”
“Cool! Where’d ya get the pirate costume?”
The man looked down at himself and then shrugged. “I’ve been wearing this attire for such a long time I don’t recall where I acquired it.”
“So, Killian, would you like to come to our apartment for Christmas Eve tonight?” Henry asked before Emma could stop him. “We’ll light up the tree and watch Christmas movies and hang our stockings and everything.”
The man…Killian…shot her a questioning glance. “I don’t wish to impose on your family traditions, lad, but if your mother doesn’t object I’d like nothing in all the realms more than to accept your invitation.”
For long moments, Emma stood in indecision. Her brain was screaming at her to run away as fast as possible. People did not invite strange men dressed in crazy attire into their homes—not unless they had a strange desire to be murdered, that is. But her heart…well, her heart kept (illogically) insisting that not only could she trust this Killian Jones, somehow she actually knew him.
What came out of her mouth surprised even her. “Sure. Come by the apartment around 7?”
But really, no one should be alone on Christmas Eve, should they?
Killian’s brows rose almost to his hairline. Safe to say that was not the answer he was expecting either. “I shall look forward to it, love.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Killian felt an unaccustomed stab of nervousness flow through him as he walked the steps leading toward Swan’s abode. He knew very little of what was transpiring in Storybrooke, only that the kingdom had once again been transported to the Land Without Magic via a curse and they needed the savior.
Much was riding on Killian’s success in restoring Emma’s memories, and he felt the weight of the responsibility placed upon his shoulders. While he’d have traded away the Jolly and done all in his power to find Swan simply for her own sake, the fact that her parents were counting on him spurred him on even more. It had been centuries since he’d truly belonged anywhere and he had no intention of mucking this up.
Truthfully it was a minor miracle she’d invited him to spend the evening with her and the lad at all, but from what he’d gathered as he’d wandered the streets of this strange place called “New York” Christmas was a time for miracles.
Taking a deep breath, Killian raised his artificial hand and wrapped on her apartment door promptly at 7:00 pm. He tapped his fingers against his leg as he waited, and then suddenly the door was opened and she stood there and literally took his breath away. She wore a soft green sweater that brought out her eyes, jeans and brown boots, her hair was pulled back into a soft pony tail.
“You’re stunning, love,” he said in wonder—almost reverence. His heart rate picked up as he saw her color prettily at the compliment. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear Emma Swan was flustered by his presence in her home.
“Thanks,” she said, “you look pretty good yourself.”
Killian looked down at his black jeans, his blue button down shirt and his leather jacket, glad he’d thought to find attire more suitable to his environs.
“Aye, well..” he said, giving her a flirtatious grin, “I have been called dashingly handsome, love.”
She rolled her eyes but laughed softly, breathily. Killian leaned toward her, drawn to her, wishing nothing more than to repeat their mind-blowing kiss on Neverland. For a moment, Emma leaned forward, lifted her head. Was she actually going to allow him to kiss her?
“Hey guys, are you coming in soon?” came Henry’s voice from the kitchen, “I’m starving.”
And with that the spell was over. Emma took a healthy step back, held onto the door and waved him in. “Yeah, um…” she said, “come in. Dinner’s ready.”
Killian obliged, shedding his jacket and placing it on the rack beside the door. He looked around in interest, admiring the large, open feel of the apartment, impressed with the large, well decorated pine tree in the corner near the windows, enjoying the delectable aromas wafting in from the kitchen.
“It smells tasty, love,” Killian said, taking the seat Henry indicated at the head of the table. “Did you prepare our meal yourself.”
Henry laughed. “Mom doesn’t cook; especially on Christmas! Of any day of the year, we ought to at least have edible food on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.”
“Excuse me?” Emma said feigning great offense. “You better watch yourself, Kid. Santa’s still watching. Don’t want to get on the naughty list.”
Henry grinned. “Hey, I’m only telling the truth. I’d say being honest ought to keep me on the nice list. But seriously, Killian, we had our dinner catered from this little Italian place down the street. They have the best spaghetti and meatballs you’ve ever eaten!”
Killian smiled at the playful ribbing between mother and son. Though he knew his Swan would wish to have her memories and know the truth, he was grateful to the Queen for giving her and the lad such pleasant memories and such a close relationship in their false life.
“I’ve no doubt but that you’re right, Henry,” Killian said, taking the bowl of long, thin pasta Swan passed him. He placed a healthy serving on his plate, and then topped it with the red sauce placed before him on the table. “As it happens, this is the first time I’ve ever consumed this particular dish.”
Both Swan and her lad stopped what they were doing and shot him astonished looks. “You’ve never eaten spaghetti and meatballs before?” Henry asked.
“Not even once.”
“Well are you in for a Christmas treat!” Henry assured him as he began to eat with typical preteen gusto.
And as Killian ate his meal of spaghetti and meatballs, salad and garlic bread, he had to admit the lad was correct—although whether it was the deliciousness of the food or the pleasantness of the company he enjoyed most was a matter for some debate. As the evening continued, Swan lost the last hint of her nervous awkwardness and began talking and laughing with him—far more open than she’d ever before been in his presence.
After dinner, Killian followed the lad into the living room to choose a movie for the evening, after which came a ritual that left Henry nearly writhing in excitement.
“We open most of our gifts on Christmas morning,” Emma told Killian as Henry rushed toward the tree, carefully picking up each of the brightly wrapped packages which bore his name, shaking them, looking them over, weighing them in his hands, “but a few years ago, the kid talked me into starting a Swan family tradition of him getting one of his presents on Christmas Eve. Choose carefully, kid.”
And suddenly, with the mention of gifts for the occasion of Christmas, Killian came up with a plan. What if he was able to jog the lad’s memories? With Henry on his side, perhaps the two of them could find a way to remind Emma who she truly was.
Killian grinned as Henry opened his chosen gift. The lad’s enthusiasm and exuberance were contagious.
“The video game I wanted!” Henry said as soon as the bright, colorful paper was ripped away. “Thanks mom! This is great!”
Emma ruffled his hair. “No problem kid,” she said. “And just you wait. You may be an expert at the other games, but I’m determined I’m going to beat you at this one!”
“Sounds like a challenge to me, lad,” Killian said teasingly, reaching over to playfully squeeze Swan’s shoulder from her perch beside him on the couch. “Are you going to let it go unanswered?”
“No way!” Henry said. “You’ll see, mom! You may be good at catching real bad guys, but I’ve got the video bad guys quaking in their boots! Can I play it now? Please?”
Before Emma could answer, Killian put a up his artificial hand. “Just a moment, lad,” he said. “If you please, I have my own gifts to bestow.”
“Killian,” Emma said, looking over at him, “you didn’t need to…”
“Nonsense, love,” he answered. “You were so kind as to allow me to share your holiday. The least I can do is offer a few small tokens of my gratitude.”
“Seriously, we don’t expect…” Emma began again, but this time she was interrupted by her son.
“Did you bring me something?” he asked Killian, stepping up to him.
“Indeed I did, lad,” Killian said, reaching for his satchel. “If I don’t miss my guess, you have the heart of a true believer. The truest believer, even. I thought perhaps you might find joy in perusing the stories of other heroes and believers.”
With a flourish, Killian pulled Henry’s old storybook from his bag and presented it to the boy. It was this book that had ignited Henry’s belief the first time. Was it possible the item would do the trick for a second time?
Henry accepted the offering, muttering a quick “Thank you,” before peering in confusion at the tome.
“A storybook?” Henry asked, brow furrowed.
“Aye,” Killian said, “a storybook, but I hope you’ll find it so very much more. Go on lad, open it.”
Killian watched eagerly as Henry opened the book to the story of his grandparents. He hadn’t long to wait. Henry couldn’t have read more than a paragraph before his eyes got wide as saucers and he quickly looked up at Killian.
“Hook!” he said slowly. “I…I remember!”
Waves of relief covered Killian like a blanket. He may still have quite the uphill task in front of him, but for the first time since finding his beloved Swan in her apartment home, Killian knew without a doubt that he would.
–Up next: Emma wakes up on Christmas morning—and ends up spending a very pleasant full day with both her son and the pirate she doesn’t yet remember she had feelings for.
Hi @whimsicallyenchantedrose - I'm your Secret Santa. It's been great writing your story this year for my first time entering this celebration of stories.
I hope you enjoy your gift.
Happy Christmas, Jen.
Thank you @ultraluckycatnd for reading through this.
Thanks @captainswansecretsanta for running this event.
Christmas in Storybrooke was always a magical time. Families and businesses would put up twinkling lights and the town would come together to decorate the tree in the town centre.
Yes magic had always been a huge part of Storybrooke ever since it was brought back. But this year Regina decided the town should do Christmas like they do in the land without magic.
Emma reluctantly agreed, having now lived in Storybrooke happily for over ten years. She'd gotten used to using her magic. It was now very much a part of her so to have it taken away again, even just for a short amount of time, felt wrong. Yet she was willing to give it a go.
When the other residents were told of this most were fine, not having magic themselves. Those that did felt they were getting enough warning to prepare. Whilst the majority of people turned to the internet to seek out advice and ideas, Belle was thrilled to see the number of checkouts of cookery and craft books increase from the library she still ran alongside her new husband, Will Scarlet.
Despite his best efforts, Gold was unable to change enough to keep Belle happy. They decided it was best for everyone if he moved back to the Enchanted Forest. He still saw his son, of course; she'd never stop him doing so and he was an excellent father wanting to make up for his past errors. But she'd grown wiser to his antics and felt she deserved better. So when Will turned up on her doorstep one day, she took the chance and agreed to hear him out. Belle had never been happier.
🎄🎁🎄
It was the day before Christmas Eve and not one to let the town down, Killian once again started to climb the rigging to the main mast. He'd always hung Christmas lights on the Jolly Roger since she'd been returned to him and he'd learnt about the joy of Christmas.
David paced anxiously below. “Careful up there, Emma won't be happy with us if anything happens to you,” he called up to his son-in-law. “And Snow will have my balls if I allow you to get hurt and ruin Christmas,” he said under his breath more to himself.
Everything had gone well and the lights were up and looking festive. Killian took a moment to look around Storybrooke. It wasn't often he climbed up the main mast. If he was honest his knees didn't like the climb as much as they used to, but the view was always worth it. Committing the vista to memory, he started to make his way down the rope ladder.
However, what should have been a routine climb down turned into a mini disaster. Killian felt time slowing as one of the rungs snapped, making his foot slip. He heard David scream, which if he wasn't in so much pain he'd have laughed at. Throughout all this Killian tried grappling around for something to break his fall. Unfortunately for him it was his foot that stopped him and he found himself upside down hanging by that one foot. “Buggering hell!” Killian exclaimed.
“Killian! Are you alright?” David checked, rather unnecessarily.
“Do I look ok? Get me down… get help… Just do something, mate and stop floundering. Be the bloody Prince and ex-Sheriff, not whatever you are right now,” Killian managed to get out through gritted teeth, still swinging around upside down.
Killian’s words sparked something within David and he finally took action, cutting the former pirate down.
The Jolly Roger cushioned her captain's body as it fell onto her decks. Whilst she felt the seismic change within the town, when it came to the man who'd spent so much time in her company, she refused to see him in any more discomfort. It had already pained her greatly hearing his groans. Of course this was nothing to what she'd witnessed from him over the years. So she did what she could to make his fall more bearable. If she could have healed him she would have done so. That job would need to be left to his lovely lady wife. The Jolly swayed to a gentle stop when Killian patted her boards and whispered his words of thanks.
Meanwhile David, who felt much calmer now that his son-in-law wasn't hanging upside down by his ankle, had called through to Storybrooke Paramedics to seek medical advice. “Thanks to our delicate location they're going to send a team out,” he advised.
“Wonderful news. I'm sure I could hobble off here, though.”
Despite the grumbling ex-pirate, when the team had arrived, they managed to escort him off his ship and to hospital.
Meanwhile on the other side of town, Emma made her way out of Granny's. She inhaled the sweet scent of the Gingerbread Latte before taking a sip of the warming liquid. She was preparing to take a drive by the Jolly on her rounds through Storybrooke. Emma usually found the task dull, but at this time of year she loved seeing the houses decorated with their lights and inflatables. Of course this made the job harder, but she loved it.
Sighing in pleasure at how her life had turned out, Emma set off in the direction of the harbour. However, part way through the journey Emma received notification of an accident there. The dispatch went on to say the names of the two people closest to her and that they were on their way to Storybrooke Hospital.
As calmly as she could, Emma turned the car around and drove off in the direction of the medical facility. All the way she cursed Regina and her madcap idea to pause their use of magic. Her previously good, festive mood rapidly turned sour.
🎄🎁🎄
Upon her arrival at the hospital, Emma soon found her way to her husband and father. When she heard them laughing with each other about their antics it did nothing to lighten her mood.
It was only when her dad walked out of the room she realised it was Killian who was injured.
“I'll give you two a minute,” David said to Emma as he gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Don't be too hard on him, it was just an accident.”
Her eyes narrowed as she assessed her father, yet she found herself calming down as she entered the room. Seeing her husband sat up on the bed reminded Emma of the first time he'd been in the hospital.
“Hello beautiful,” Killian said, happy to see his wife.
Upset, scared and still just a little pissed at him that he'd put himself in the position where he'd got himself injured yet again, she couldn't help approach the bed and pat his leg.
“Ah, bloody hell love!”
“Do you have any idea what you've put me through, Killian? When I heard the call saying that you were in the hospital again… I was worried sick. You do realise that when Zeus brought you back to us he also made you age at the normal pace again? You do recall all this, right? I just can't… I don't want to be a single mom again.”
Killian dropped all bravado when he realised what his antics truly meant. He was older now, and he was going to be a dad again. That was the true blessing. Whilst he hadn't been messing around, he could admit to himself he had been reckless. Especially with the surprise gift bestowed on them just a few weeks before.
“Emma love, come here and sit with me.” Killian shuffled to make space for her to join him on the bed.
Silently Emma joined Killian on the bed trying not to catch his ankle. She started relaxing when his arms engulfed her and to her shame found herself crying.
“Hey, my love. What's this all about?”
“I'm sorry for shouting at you like that when I came in. I just got scared and I can't fix you without my magic?”
Killian chuckled as he shifted slightly to face his wife. “Oh darling. There's nothing to forgive. I get why you are upset with me. I should have been more careful.” He gently wiped his hand across her cheek cupping it before leaning in to give a soft, yet loving kiss.
Emma was just relaxing into it when Killian pulled back sharply. “Is that coffee I taste on those lovely lips of yours?”
She nodded. “You know how I love my Christmas treat. Besides, I've weighed up the fact that Granny would know something's up if I stopped drinking it, or my hot chocolate.”
Killian placed his hand on her belly, whilst his stump rubbed soothing circles on her upper arm. “That woman still has the strongest werewolf scent glands I've ever known. You do know she'll already be knitting our little girl her baby blanket already, don't you?”
He smiled to himself when he felt Emma nod.
“Are we daft thinking we can do this again?” Emma asked, biting her bottom lip with worry.
“Sweetheart, I'll tell you something I told you not long after I first met you… I've yet to see you fail. You and I make a great team. Even when you hated me and I was full of my quest to seek revenge, we still had each other's backs when we needed to.”
As Killian reminded her of this, Emma found herself boughed up by her husband's encouraging words. “Thank you, I needed that.”
Killian winked at her. “I know, open book remember?” he sassed. “Now where were we?”
They continued their loving embrace, almost forgetting their public setting as Killian wound his fingers through Emma's hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss.
A cough startled the pair. They jumped apart and looked towards the sound. Emma's dad stood in the doorway shielding his eyes.
“Seriously, Dad. After what Henry and I walked in on you and Mom doing?” Emma complained.
“Err, that was different.”
“How?” she probed.
“You're my daughter and he's my best mate. I don't need to see the two of you making out, no matter how happy you both clearly are.”
“Awe, Dave. Has my accident made you sappy? You don't usually admit that I'm your mate, nevermind that I'm your bestie,” Killian sassed.
“Don't push it, Hook. You know I care for you,” David sassed right back. “The nurse is on his way with your boot then you can go. I've already spoken with Snow. She prepared the downstairs bedroom for the two of you so you don't have to manage the stairs anymore than you need to.”
Killian thanked his friend as Emma moved from the bed to allow the nursing team to do their final examination of her husband.
Nurse Anderssen told Killian it was only a sprain so the boot was there to prevent further damage to the surrounding muscles. To Emma he said, “I expect that when your magic returns you'll want to heal him.”
Emma said she would so they showed her where the main area of damage was. She thanked him, watched as they fitted the boot, and listened carefully to the pain relief quantities and times for doses.
They all breathed a sigh of relief as they exited the hospital and made their way to the Joneses car. The drama of the day caught up with them all as they made arrangements to drop David at the harbour to collect his car.
Carol of the Bells provided a relaxing soundtrack to the journey back home. “Fancy watching ‘Home Alone’?” Emma asked.
Killian nodded wearily. “That sounds lovely.”
As they watched the Christmas comedy, Emma gathered their clothes for the next few days, packing them into their weekend bags. Together with the gifts, she set the bags next to the front door in readiness for the early morning quick getaway.
Then joining Killian back in their bed, she snuggled in next to him being careful not to knock his injured ankle. “Goodnight, Killian. I love you.”
“I love you too, my love. Goodnight.”
🎄🎁🎄
The following day, Christmas Eve, Emma and Killian arrived at the farm to find it decorated as if it was the actual North Pole. Silvery lights were strewn across the green trees leading up to the farmhouse itself. This was colourfully decorated with sparkly icicles, a sleigh on the roof and candy canes on the porch.
Snow opened the door before Killian could let Emma know his thoughts, yet Emma voiced them to her mom anyway.
“Wow, Mom. You really went all out this year, didn't you? How did you manage this all?”
“I had help from the dwarves. Turns out they love Christmas as much as me. Who knew?” Snow told her daughter and son-in-law gleefully.
“Who indeed,” Killian replied, nudging Emma conspiratorially.
Emma had to cover her mouth to stop herself from laughing as she entered the house, Killian hobbling behind her on his booted foot.
The inside of the house was almost as bright. The 8ft Christmas Tree was full to the brim with ornaments all of which were meaningful. Tinsel and lights surrounded each piece of furniture and Christmas music played from a CD in the kitchen. The sweet smell of cookies drifted from said room too.
“Mom, Dad!” Hope squealed as she ran down the stairs from her bedroom she used when she stayed with her grandparents. Now aged eight, she still loved Christmas, as did her young Uncle Leo. “Missed you. You got hurt Daddy.”
“I did, but it'll only be for a few days. I'll be better soon, but I'll be a bit slower until then.”
“Ok,” she nodded. “Will cookies help?”
Killian smiled. “Yes, little love. I think they will.”
After they all enjoyed their cookies, Snow announced it was time to finish preparing the vegetables. Allocating David and Killian to this job, much to their disdain, she pulled her daughter aside.
“You've had quite the stressful few days. I bet you'll be glad of a few days where you can rest up and relax.” Snow’s hawk-like eyes scanned her daughter. It was as if she knew Emma's secret but was allowing her the space to tell them all in her own time.
Emma laughed. “I'm not gonna lie, Mom, yesterday was pretty shitty. I just wish I could go back to when Regina and I had that chat about not using magic. I could have then healed Killian's ankle straightaway, you know?”
Her mom nodded, but before she was able to say anything further their chat was disrupted by the men grumbling loudly. Snow rolled her eyes making Emma laugh. “Ignore them. After their silliness yesterday it's the least they can do. Besides, Henry, Jacinta, and Lucy will be here soon. I've got one more bed to make. Help me with that, then I'll run you a nice bath if you'd like one.”
Emma sighed. Over the last few years she'd grown closer to her mom. And now that she was pregnant again she was so very grateful. Telling her she would love one, they headed off in the direction of the bedroom. When she'd first seen the double line on the test her doubts returned, as they did with each of her pregnancies. But this one felt different. She had fully supportive parents and a husband who was the best father to both her children.
🎄🎁🎄
Killian and Hope found Emma after her bath.
“Well hello, Mrs. Jones.” Killian’s eyes glinted with flirtatious desire seeing his wife wrapped in a towel, drying her hair.
Hope groaned loudly reminding them of her presence. It made them all laugh, but broke the heated tension building between the seasoned couple.
“Mom, Grandma gave me a Christmas Eve present and asked me to give you yours. She wants you to wear them tonight,” Hope told her.
Confused, Emma looked across to her husband.
“Not a clue, love. All we know is that Henry and the others will get theirs when they arrive. We'll leave you to get dressed then come back in.”
Emma took the package from her daughter, and after Hope left the room gave Killian the kiss he clearly wanted earlier.
“Careful, Mrs. Jones, you wouldn't want me sporting a trouser tent in front of our families.”
“Wouldn't I?” Emma laughed.
Killian stood. “You're incorrigible.”
Opening up the gifts they'd been given as Emma continued to dress, Killian soon realised what his mother-in-law had planned.
“Bloody hell! Captain Christmas. Emma, your mother wants me to wear a Christmas jumper. I bet yours is the same.”
Now fully dressed, Emma couldn't help but laugh at Killian’s outburst. “You know she likes to throw a curve ball. Now if you'd do me the honour of opening mine for me.”
He did so and the jumper read: ‘Sheriff Snowman.’
“Here's hoping everyone's is as equally ridiculous.”
They were, as Christmas Jumpers traditionally are, very silly indeed. However before either of them could say anything to Snow, the tell tale sign of crunching gravel stopped them.
Two overly excited children also wearing their matching Christmas jumpers appeared from the living room in readiness to greet the newcomers. “Christmas can finally begin!” they cheered before dragging Lucy away to give her jumper to her.
Snow smiled in their wake, filled with joy seeing her house filled with children. Her happiness doubled when her phone chimed with the ringtone assigned to Ruby. It was lovely even after all the years her and Dorothy had moved to Oz that they were able to keep in contact. “Ruby and Dorothy say hello and Happy Christmas to everyone.”
David kissed his wife's forehead just knowing in his heart how much she still missed her friend. “We can take a trip to see them in the New Year if you want?”
Snow nodded and went for a lie down on her own, processing everything happening. Her heart full of happiness.
🎄🎁🎄
Christmas morning dawned bright, crisp, and white. A deep covering of snow had fallen overnight making the farm look even more festive than it already had done the previous day.
Thankfully the adults had already decided to forgo a lie in because when the kids all saw the snow, all they wanted to do was go out and play in it.
Since it was Christmas morning, they all opened one present each then got ready to build a snowman. Adults versus children - with Henry joining Team Kids. It seemed that even after all these years he still saw himself as a big kid.
The children did of course win with their rather fancy version of Captain Hook thanks to the curved twig Hope had found and insisted on using.
Soon the time came to go back inside to warm up and have their big Christmas breakfast. Killian had been pottering inside watching his family whilst preparing the meal. It didn't take long for everyone to warm up and don their jumpers, yet they still managed to catch Killian unaware, singing to himself as he served the food:
O holy night! the stars are brightly shining;
It is the night of the dear Savior's birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope--the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!
Fall on your knees! O hear the angel voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born!
O night divine! O night, O night divine!
“Dad's got a nice voice, hasn't he Henry,” Hope said, turning to her older brother.
“He really does, kid,” Henry agreed, ruffling his sister's hair.
David and Snow reached out for each other's hands simultaneously. As always, completely in sync with one another.
“We've really struck lucky with our family. I've a feeling this is going to be an especially good Christmas, you know,” Snow told David.
“I think you're right, honey.”
Emma approached her husband, wrapping her hand around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. “Something smells delicious,” she whispered.
Killian rolled his eyes before whispering back, “Emma, love, your parents are standing in the doorway and the kids are at the table. You're really testing me and my ability not to kiss you right now.” He raised an eyebrow smirking at her.
Emma giggled. “What can I say? The baby just loves her baby daddy.”
Killian relinquished and gave her a small peck on the cheek. “That's a starter. Be patient and you'll get what you want from me later,” Killian said to her, winking as he walked away.
Emma muttered under her breath, “Cheeky pirate.”
“That may be so, love, but I'm your cheeky pirate.”
Whilst they were eating their festive food, Emma decided it was the perfect time to announce she was pregnant again.
The joyous news boosted everyone, making them even happier than they'd been before.
“You're right as always, Snow. This Christmas is proving to be an especially good one.”
“Hmm hmm, but I think next year will be even better with a new baby in the family.” Snow smiled across at her daughter, thrilled for her.
“Yeah, Mom and Dad congratulations,” Henry said to them.
Hope, being the curious child she was, asked, “Will I be getting a little brother or a little sister?”
Killian looked to his wife, seeking permission, and when she nodded her ascent told them, “Emma and I are pleased to say that in June, you'll be getting a little sister.”
This made Hope very happy indeed.
The rest of Christmas day was spent opening presents, playing games and enjoying the Christmas music being played on the radio.
🎄🎁🎄
Thanks to the surprise snow shower, Henry, Lucy, and Jacinta, along with Emma, Killian, and Hope stayed slightly longer than planned, however no one minded given the fact they hadn't seen each other for quite some time.
Henry kept the kids entertained by reading stories to them, and when this stopped working they came up with an idea to decide on a baby name. They called it Operation Baby's First Christmas.
Lucy suggested Jovie after her favourite character.
That was vetoed as too much alliteration just sounded silly. Also because the baby wasn't actually going to be a Christmas baby
In the run up to Christmas, Hope and Leo had spent quite a bit of time looking through some family history books that David was compiling. Leo nudged her and whispered his idea to her. She smiled and nodded.
“We think it should be Alice Ruth. Alice was Dad's mom and Ruth was Mom's grandma. They're also really nice names.”
Henry couldn't have loved his younger sister anymore if he tried. “I think that sounds lovely. They'll love them.”
“We do, sweetheart. Thank you,” Emma said through tears.
🎄🎁🎄
The following day, just as the snow was starting to clear they felt a soft ripple move across them. Unlike the whoosh when magic returned previously, this was a warming sensation that even those without it could feel.
Emma immediately sought out Killian. “Let's get that ankle of yours healed.”
“Aye, my love. Having one appendage out of use is acceptable, but a second is too much to bear.”
Sitting on the edge of the sofa Emma removed the boot, raised his ankle onto her knee then rubbed her hands together. Holding them above the sore spot she felt her magic transition from her and watched in awe as the bruising went away.
“You've certainly not lost your flair for healing, have you?
“Regina? When did you get here?” Emma asked.
“I, as you all have said in the past, poofed across just now. I wanted to see my family.”
Emma and Regina decided there and then that taking the magic away had been a bad idea and one never to be repeated.
Eventually the Jones and Mills families left the farm. It wouldn't be for long after all since Snow and David would be staying with Regina for New Year's.
When they did arrive back in Storybrooke, Henry and his family went straight to Regina's where to his surprise he found Robin waiting.
Regina's explanation for his presence? She'd decided she deserved her happy ending so had been working on a way of bringing him back. This was the Christmas she found success with her plan.
Henry was thrilled for his mother and couldn't wait to tell his other mom, dad, and sister.
The Joneses arrived quickly not wanting to waste a moment before they saw their friend again.
“Ah, welcome back mate. It's good to see you again.” Killian gave his old friend a warm hug in greeting.
“It's certainly nice being back here, that's for sure.”
Once they'd established he wasn't going anywhere, Killian winked badly at his family and friends. “So it turns out that Robins are for more than just Christmas then?”
Despite the good natured groan that echoed around the room, the group gathered together for the first time in a very long time and truly appreciated the magic of Christmas.
--I like how you handled the Belle/Gold/Will situation! So happy Belle finally saw the error of her ways, and I think you're right. Gold would do his best to be a good father.
--lol, I like Charming being protective of Killian.
--Oh, I like how you personified the Jolly Roger, and I like that she tried to do her best to cushion Killian's fall.
--Poor Emma having to hear about the accident over the radio--and knowing she doesn't have magic to heal him.
--i liked the scene in the hospital. The perfect mix of angst and sweet. Lol, Killian's probably ly right about Granny, though. I'm sure she can smell the change in Emma's hormones.
--Aw! I like all the Chrismassy stuff at the farmhouse and how excited Snow is for the family to be together
--Aw! I like how excited everyone is about the baby and I like the scene of Killian singing while he cooked. Lol, to the "something smells good" line!
--Yay for magic being back, and you for Robin back too!
--Thanks again for this! I loved all the family feels!
Merry Christmas, @dazzlingstarlight! I was your Secret Santa this year. This season–and this story totally got away from me, so it’s going to have to have multiple chapters (probably 5 or less). I hope you don’t mind future installments of your story coming after Christmas. I won’t have much time to write before the new year, but one of my big New Year’s resolutions for 2026 is to finish my WIPs, so you shouldn’t have too long to wait.
Word Count: 1909
Genre: Modern Au–enemies to lovers/fake dating
Summary: Based on an Audible original book, "10 Things I Hate About Christmas", as well as various bits and pieces from Hallmark Christmas movies, when Emma Swan mistakenly sends her boss, Regina Mills, the NSFW gag Christmas gift meant for her best friend, Ruby, she’s convinced she’s about to be fired–or worse. Luckily Regina’s nephew, Killian Jones, has a plan to help her take back her gift before Regina’s any the wiser. All Emma has to do is come back home with Killian to Storybrooke and pretend to be his girlfriend. The problem? Emma can’t stand Killian. Can she pretend to be in love with him for three days in his quirky hometown? What happens when she sees a different side of him and realizes maybe she doesn’t hate him after all?
Also on AO3
Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list):
“Excuse me,” came a voice behind her, “what do you think you’re doing?”
Emma Swan froze, one hand on the knob of her boss, Regina Mills’ office door, the other holding a hair pin an inch from the lock.
Oh no, oh no!, OH NO!!! This couldn’t be happening to her. She was so getting fired!
Emma slowly turned around, thinking hard for an excuse, any excuse, she could give Sidney Glass, Miss Mills’ personal assistant, for why she was currently trying to break into her boss’s office.
This was all Killian Jones’ fault, and if she went down, she’d be taking him down with her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
1 week ago
Emma Swan liked her job; she really did. She’d been hired a year ago at the Mills Ad Agency under the direction of the world-famous Regina Mills. Companies far and wide came to Boston to meet with the advertising mogul to secure her services. On average, after a Regina Mills campaign, a company saw a 100% jump in profit.
This was the big leagues. Emma had finally made it.
True, she’d yet to be put on any significant account, but that would come. In time, one of the big wigs would notice her hard work and dedication and give her the chance to prove herself.
Emma gathered up her briefcase, stepped out of her office and locked the door. The agency always closed from Christmas to New Year’s, so she had only a week left of work before she was off for the year.
Good thing too! Christmas had snuck up on her this year. So much to do to get ready. Today’s objective: get to the post office before it closed in order to mail a couple of Christmas gifts.
She was just turning away from her office, when she heard voices–Regina Mills herself, and her nephew and second in command, Killian Jones.
Just the sound of that British accent made her blood boil. The man was a menace! As if it wasn’t bad enough that he was an obvious nepo-hire, he seemed to have designated himself as her personal babysitter. Every time Emma turned around, Killian was there. Stopping at the water cooler near her desk fifteen times a day (seriously, invest in a water bottle!), humming along to her favorite music, sitting near her in the break room. He was always around.
It didn’t help that he was hot as all hell. The fact that her heart rate picked up every time her eyes met his was utterly infuriating. Oh she knew men like him. Too sexy for his own good, and knowing it, he flirted with anything in a skirt Well, anything but her that was. With her, he did nothing but…hover.
“I think I’ll put the new hire, Emma Swan, on the Nottingham account,” Regina said. “What do you think?”
There was a moment of silence, before Killian responded. “I…don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said finally.
“Really?” Regina asked, a hint of surprise in her voice. “She’s been doing good work. Seems like it’s time to give her a little more responsibility.”
“No,” Killian said firmly. “She’s not right for the Nottingham account. Big account like that…no. We need someone else on it.”
As she listened to the conversation continue, and then move to other topics, Emma’s fury grew, blossomed, nearly erupted. She wasn’t right for the Nottingham account? She wasn’t ready? The son of a bitch was actually actively sabotaging her now?
She was going to kill him. She was going to drive a stake of holly through his cold already-dead heart. Where the hell did he get off screwing her over like this?
She had to get out of here; had to leave before she did something stupid like stomp into her boss’s office and punched Killian Jones in the face. Repeatedly.
As she stormed to her car and then drove to the post office, her anger grew. A stake of holly through the heart wasn’t good enough for him. She was fairly certain she wasn’t a violent enough person to think of a torture worthy of his betrayal.
She made it to the post office five minutes before closing time and just barely was able to slap labels on her two packages–one for her best friend Ruby Lucas and the other for her boss–and toss them in the mail chute before a voice came over the loud speaker. “The post office is now closed. Please return at nine a.m. tomorrow morning for any future postal needs.”
But as frustrating as overhearing her boss’s nephew sabotaging her was, what happened five days later was worse. So very, very much worse.
“Hey, Emma, you ready for the Naughty Christmas exchange?” came Ruby’s voice over facetime on the Saturday night before Christmas.
It was a tradition they’d started when they were roommates during their freshman year of college. Every year, they got each other the most over the top, ridiculous, not-safe-for-work Christmas gift they could find, and they always did their exchange the weekend before Christmas. It was something only Ruby could have dreamed up, but Emma had to admit, it was fun.
After Emma opened her gift–laughing over the thong her friend bought her–complete with Captain Hook’s face stamped across the front, suggestive leer on his face, it was time for Ruby to open hers.
Emma watched, grinning as Ruby pulled the paper from the box with abandon….but her grin faded and then slowly turned to dawning horror, when her friend held the unwrapped box before the camera.
Instead of the sour apple flavored edible underwear with “taste my forbidden fruit” across the butt, Ruby held up an expensive, tasteful box of chocolates.
The chocolates she had intended to give to her boss for Christmas.
Somehow, between the rage at Killian and the hustle and bustle and hurry as she tried to make it in under the wire at the post office, she’d switched her two packages.
And if Ruby got the chocolates, that meant she’d sent Regina Mills….oh no! This couldn’t be happening!
She’d sent her boss a pair of edible underwear for Christmas. She was sooooo getting fired.
And so she found herself at the office dark and early Monday morning, a good two hours before anyone else normally arrived, desperately trying to break into her boss’s office and retrieve her mistaken gift
“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?”
Emma spun around to face Regina’s oily, sycophantic secretary, mind racing for an excuse that sounded plausible. “I uh…I wanted to….you see I think I forgot to sign the card I put on my gift for Regina. I wanted to check and make sure.”
Sidney frowned at her for another moment, before saying something that chilled her to the marrow of her bones. “You won’t find her gifts there. Miss Mills has all of her work gifts forwarded to her home in Storybrooke. It’s her tradition to open them at her annual Christmas Eve party.”
At her Christmas Eve party?
Emma suddenly had visions of a swanky room packed with elegant people watching as Regina Mills opened her gift. Her stomach dropped to her toes. Regina wouldn’t just fire her when she opened the gift in front of all her friends and family, she’d kill her. Conjure a fireball in her hand and incinerate her.
This morning couldn’t get any worse.
“What seems to be the problem?” the bane of her existence asked in his smooth (sexy) accent. The universe hated her. That was all there was to it. It despised her.
“Nothing,” Emma stammered, turning tail and nearly running in the opposite direction. “Nothing to concern yourself with.”
“Wait!” he called after her, jogging to keep up, finally reaching her and stopping her with a hand to her arm. “It’s not nothing. Love, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. What happened?”
Emma groaned. She knew that tone in his voice. He wouldn’t give up without an answer. Well, might as well get the whole sordid thing out there. It wasn’t like she could keep it from him anyway. In a couple days the whole fiasco would be the talk of the office grapevine.
“Your aunt is going to kill me,” she said simply. “You see, there was a mix up at the post office last week…”
She went on to lay it all out for him.
“And so, you see, if she opens that gift at her party, in front of everyone…”
He nodded, his eyes dancing as he valiantly tried to subdue his smile at the ridiculous situation she’d gotten herself into. “I see your dilemma.”
“Intercepting the gift here was my last hope,” Emma said, defeat heavy in her voice. “And now….well, now I’m just screwed.”
For a moment, Killian was silent as he scratched at a spot behind his ear. When he finally spoke, it was the very last thing Emma expected to hear. “As it happens, I may be able to help you.”
“Really? How?”
“I attend my aunt’s party every year,” he said. “Perhaps I can intercept your gift before it reaches her.”
Emma’s eyes widened. He was offering to help her? What happened to constantly looking over her shoulder? Sabotaging her? “You would do that for me? What’s the catch?”
There was that ear scratch again. This time it was accompanied by a blush–an actual blush–that went all the way to his pointy ears. “I….uh…I need you to come home with me for Christmas, go to Regina’s party as my plus one.”
Emma’s jaw dropped. “You…you need me to what?”
He wouldn’t look at her now. “I may have implied to my family that I have a new girlfriend, and they may have gotten the impression I was bringing her home for Christmas this year.”
“And you want me to pretend to be that girlfriend?”
“It would be a win-win,” Killian said. “You take back your gift before Regina opens it, and I get my family off my back. We’d head to Storybrooke this evening and then return on the 26th. At a respectable time after Christmas, we can have a fake break up. What do you say, Swan?”
What did she say? On the one hand, it would give her a chance to save her job (and her life), but on the other–3 days with Killian Jones? Pretending to be his girlfriend? This could be the worst Christmas of her life!
But if she didn’t, there would be no way to intercept the gift. She did really love her job….and, well, Killian was offering to help her. She supposed she could put up with him for three days. It might not even be the end of the world to pretend to be his girlfriend. What did she really have to lose?
“Fine,” she said on a sigh. “What time do we leave?”
Up next: We get Killian’s perspective–why he’s really been “hovering” around Emma. Why he tried to keep her off the Nottingham account, why he told his family he had a girlfriend. Meanwhile, Emma and Killian travel to Storybrooke and get set up in Killian’s mom’s–Zelena’s–house. Yes, I know, having Zelena be Killian’s mom is super weird, but the Mills women being sisters and Regina’s sister being Killian’s mom is necessary to the story. Don’t worry! We’ll get plenty of other familiar characters in Storybrooke–including a very-much-alive Liam and Elsa.
12 Days of Captain Swan Reruns--Day 12: The Christmas Cabin
Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t! One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia. A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns. So here you go! I’ve paired down my rerun posting schedule for this year (mostly because the holidays snuck up on me this year!), so I will have 1 story/day up until Christmas Eve, and then a New Year’s rerun posting New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Did I leave off one of your favorites? Check out my full gamut of Christmas fics [here]
Word Count: 5440
Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list):
Written in 2022. AU Due to a scheduling mishap, strangers Emma and Killian end up double booked for the same cabin over Christmas in the middle of a blizzard. Obviously there’s only one bed.
CS Genre: AU
By the time Emma pulled up in front of her best friend, Mary Margaret’s cabin two days before Christmas, it was snowing so hard she could barely see three feet in front of her. The weatherman had predicted a Christmas blizzard, and for once he’d been right.
She parked, grabbed her bag and made her way through the howling wind and pelting snow to the front door. As Mary Margaret had promised, it was unlocked, and Emma entered to an absolute haven of Christmasy comfort. A fire was roaring in the hearth, colorful lights twinkled from the Christmas tree, garlands and holly hung from every available surface, and in the corner of the room, the very comfortable looking queen-sized bed was draped with a very festive red and green duvet.
It kind of looked like Christmas had thrown up in here, but it was cozy, and after the ridiculously frozen drive here, cozy sounded pretty damn good.
Normally Emma loved Christmastime, but a big part of that love was due to the excitement her ten-year-old son Henry felt surrounding the holiday. This year, Henry was spending the holiday with his dad, and Emma had only half-heartedly done the whole Christmas thing. (What was the point when you’d be spending the holiday alone?)
When a stakeout went wrong a couple days ago, Emma decided it was the last straw. She needed to get away. She needed a break from…well…everything. Luckily Mary Margaret had offered Emma the use of the cabin she owned with her new husband, David. (Well, technically, she’d offered to have Emma stay with her and David over Christmas, but it was their first Christmas together, and Emma didn’t want to intrude.)
Emma set her bag on the bed, and had only just stepped into the bathroom when she heard it. The door opened again, and she distinctly heard the stomping of boots.
She was not alone.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Killian Jones had a problem. He was the best selling author of the immensely popular novel Neverland, which was a rather dark and gritty reimagining of the Peter Pan and Captain Hook story.
The problem? His editor was breathing down his neck for a new book. Regina Mills was a good editor (she was not the slightest bit shy about criticism), but she was quite short on patience. If Killian didn’t produce something to show her soon, she might just show up on his doorstep and start throwing fireballs.
Unfortunately his muse had gone completely silent, and he had no idea where he wanted to go with his sequel. He’d ended his first book with the rather psychotic Peter Pan finally allowing Captain Hook to leave his island, and Hook leaving to once again pursue his revenge. What more was there to be told about Neverland?
His readers enjoyed his unique take on the classic story, but they wanted more. There seemed to be near universal agreement that Hook should transition from morally gray anti-hero to full on hero, and more than a few had suggested the pirate needed a love interest, but Killian had no idea where he might go with either of those suggestions.
At any rate, he had to do something. He simply had to have at least a few chapters to give to Regina by the new year.
Christmas was always a hard time for Killian. Had been ever since he’d lost Liam and then Milah nearly a decade ago. Christmas had been by far his favorite time of year when he’d had a family and loved ones to share it with, but now that he’d lost them, Christmas only reminded him of what he no longer had.
And so when his mate David Nolan had offered the use of his cabin over Christmas, Killian had jumped at the opportunity. Perhaps alone in the idyllic setting, he could not only weather the heartache of a lonely Christmas, but also get a good start on his newest novel.
The final mile or two to the cabin had been rather treacherous as the snow fell so fast his windshield wipers could barely keep up with it, but fortunately he made it in one piece. He stepped into the cabin, stomped the snow from his boots…
And promptly found himself face to face with a very formidable blonde woman holding a thick, cast iron pan, poised to pummel him with it.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing here, but I suggest you turn your ass around and walk out of my cabin. Now.” Emma growled at the man standing in her friend’s cabin.
The man eyed her weapon of choice (the only one she could find in the moment), and then grinned at her, unbuttoning his parka and brushing snow from his hair. “I think you’re mistaken, love,” he said in a delicious accent. “This happens to be my cabin for the weekend.”
“Are you kidding me?” Emma asked. “Listen, bud, I’ve taken down guys a lot bigger and stronger than you, so unless you want me to bash in what few brains you have with this pan, I suggest you change your tune.”
“What tune would you like, Darling?” he asked with a quirk of his brow as he pulled off his coat and hung it on the rack by the door. “I’ve been told I’ve a rather appealing voice, and I’m at your disposal for whatever Christmas song you might desire.”
Emma growled, raising the pain higher, and the man seemed to finally decide caution was the better part of valor. He raised his hands in surrender, and took a step away. “Look,” he said, “apparently there’s been some misunderstanding.”
“Yeah, there has,” Emma said. “You came to my cabin and refuse to leave.”
The man rolled his eyes. “This cabin belongs to my mate, David, and he’s offered me use of it for the next week.”
David? This guy got permission from David?
“Yeah, well,” Emma said, “Mary Margaret gave me the use of this cabin for the next week.”
A quick phone call cleared up the situation.
“Emma, I’m so sorry!” Mary Margaret said as soon as Emma explained the situation. “Turns out David and I both offered the cabin without talking to each other. Why don’t you and Killian just share the cabin? He’s a good guy, and I bet the two of you will hit it off.”
Emma groaned as she finished the call and turned back to the man who remained patiently waiting by the door. “Yeah, so apparently the Nolans double booked the cabin. Obviously one of us is going to have to leave.”
The man–Killian, apparently–glanced out the window, and then back at her before shaking his head. “Love, I don’t think either one of us is going anywhere tonight, and probably not for a few days by the look of this storm.”
Emma crossed her arms and glared at him. “So what exactly do you propose we do? I’m not just going to share a cabin–and its only bed–with some guy I don’t even know.”
Killian offered his hand. “Killian Jones, at your service. You’ll no doubt know me from my world-class novel, Neverland.”
“Emma Swan,” she said, shaking his hand briefly, “bail bonds person, and sorry. Haven’t heard of you or your book.”
“Pleasure to meet you Emma Swan,” Killian said, bringing her hand to his lips and briefly kissing it before letting it go.
The touch of his lips to her skin started butterflies dancing in her stomach. He really was far, far too hot for her own good. Her reaction annoyed her, and she stepped back, crossing her arms again. “Look, how about we just…divide the cabin in half. You get that half over there, and I get this half. We each stay to our own side of the cabin, and then maybe we can both get through this week without bloodshed.”
“If that’s what you wish,” he said with a grin, “although I’d be careful if I were you. I’m rather charming, and I’ve a feeling I’ll win you over by the end of our stay.”
She snorted. “Don’t plan on it.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was an hour before Emma realized the flaw in her rather ingenious solution. She had the bed and the kitchen on her side of the cabin…but he had the one and only bathroom on his. She’d downed a large hot cocoa on her way to the cabin, and her bladder was beginning to protest.
She glanced over at Killian and noticed he was engrossed in whatever he was doing on his laptop. Perhaps she could simply slip into the bathroom without him being any the wiser.
She’d no sooner taken a step across the unofficial dividing line between their respective halves of the cabin, when Killian looked up at her and grinned. “Breaking our accord already, are you love?” he drawled. “That’s quite bad form."
She rolled her eyes. “Bad form? Who are you, Captain Hook?”
A delighted look came into his eyes. “You have read my book!”
“Yeah well,” she said, “maybe I have. Must not have been memorable enough for me to remember earlier.”
He laughed. “Well, if you read my book and you believe I’ve patterned the protagonist after myself, you know I’m rather a stickler for good form. You insisted on the dividing of our land, so to speak, and you appear about to break our deal.”
She rolled her eyes. “Look, maybe I didn’t think this thing all the way through. I have to go to the bathroom, okay?”
“Absolutely,” he said with a grin. “I believe I spotted an outhouse just behind the cabin. I’m sure it will suffice for your purposes.”
“Are you kidding me right now?”
He shrugged. “I’m perfectly willing to dissolve our deal, love,” he said grinning down at her. “After all, spending time in the company of a beautiful woman is no chore. You’re the one who insisted on boundaries, and as a gentleman I’m bound to respect your wishes. The question is…are you?”
Emma growled. “Fine!” she said turning toward the cabin door. “I’ll, use the stupid outhouse, but if I freeze to death out there, I’m coming back to haunt you.”
He stopped her before she could reach the door. “I’m not such a cad as to make a lady use an outhouse in the middle of a blizzard. Of course you can use the indoor facilities.”
“How generous of you,” Emma said dryly. “But just because I’m breaking our ‘accord’ as you so ridiculously call it, don’t think that means I’m open to flirting.”
“Why Swan,” he said, mock innocence plastered all over his admittedly handsome face, “I wouldn’t dream of it. And as I recall, you’re the only one of us who’s mentioned flirtation. Could it be the lady doth protest too much?”
Emma was rather proud of herself that she managed to not punch him in the face.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After the bathroom incident Swan had finally acknowledged the ridiculousness of her insistence upon dividing the cabin. They'd agreed to dissolve their accord--although Swan was quite insistent they continue keeping to themselves.
Killian turned over yet again, still searching in vain for a comfortable position on this torture device Dave called a sofa. As Killian promised, he’d been a perfect gentleman last night, and as a gentleman, he’d of course offered to take the sofa so she could have the bed.
In the somewhat dull light of day, his neck was rather regretting that decision. Could his mate have possibly purchased a more uncomfortable piece of furniture than this couch?
Killian sat up and stretched, groaning at the crick in his neck. This vacation was turning out to be far more painful than he’d anticipated. Wandering over to the kitchen area, he found that Dave and Mary Margaret had stocked it quite well. Whatever else was in store for Emma and him over the next few days, they certainly didn’t need to worry about starving to death.
Killian set about brewing coffee, frying bacon and scrambling eggs. He’d only just popped some bread in the toaster, when he heard the other inhabitant of the cabin stir, and start moving in his general direction.
“Something smells amazing,” she said, stepping beside him and eying the coffeepot with undisguised longing. “I’m not exactly the best in the kitchen.”
Killian poured a steaming mug of coffee and handed it to her. “I’ve made far more than I can eat. You’re welcome to share my morning meal with me.”
She looked conflicted for a moment, and then nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. “Wouldn’t want the food to go to waste.”
“No we wouldn’t want that,” he said with a grin.
Breakfast, as it happened, was a surprisingly enjoyable meal. Killian found he rather liked Emma Swan when she wasn’t yelling at him. She was positively pleasant after she’d been fed. Perhaps the holiday spirit–it was Christmas Eve morning after all–had infected her.
Killian was far more intrigued with the woman than he’d like to admit. This was the first time he’d felt any real pull toward another woman since Milah’s death, and a portion of him felt disloyal to her memory.
But a bigger part of him was so captivated with the woman sitting across from him at the cabin’s only table that he didn’t care.
“So, tell me a little more about yourself,” he said as he reached for another piece of bacon. “Who exactly are you, Swan?”
She grinned rather teasingly up at him, and the look actually made his heart stutter before it began racing. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she asked.
“Perhaps I would.”
As breakfast progressed, Killian learned quite a bit about Emma Swan–more, he’d wager, than she’d intended to tell him. She was the single mother of a sweet, precocious ten year old named Henry. Things had ended badly, to say the least, with her ex-Neal, who’d not only left her while she was pregnant but set her up to take the fall for his own crime.
The longer she spoke about the son of a bitch, the more Killian wanted to hunt him down and pummel him. One could not find much worse form than that, nor more stupidity. What absolute imbecile would leave a woman like Emma Swan?
Neal, as it happened, was the reason for her rather bad mood this year. A year after the relationship had ended, Neal had shown back up, and though Emma had no intention of ever rekindling the relationship, she did want Henry to have the opportunity to get to know his father. They'd fallen into a reasonably cordial situation as co-parents. This year it was Neal's turn to have Henry for Christmas.
Christmas without her lad simply didn’t feel like Christmas at all.
“I don’t grudge him the chance to spend time with his dad,” Emma said as they worked together to clean up the kitchen. “It’s just. I miss him, you know?”
He smiled gently down at her. “Aye,” he said simply, “and you’re perfectly within your rights to miss him. I regret that I’m not the guy you wished to spend the holidays with, but I’ll attempt to at least not make your week worse.”
She glanced over at him. “Yeah, well feeding me goes a long way toward that goal. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
After breakfast they lapsed into silence, each retreating to their own chair before the festively decorated tree. Emma lost herself in a book, while Killian booted up his laptop and tried to begin his novel.
The cursor glared back at him in the midst of a sea of blank, empty Word document.
“So how’s it going?” Emma asked an hour later. “Want to give me a preview of what Captain Hook is going to do next?”
“I’d love to,” he said with a wry grin, “if I had even the first bloody clue. I’m afraid my muse has definitively deserted me. I haven’t any idea what is next for the good captain.”
She glanced off into the distance for a moment before turning back to him. “You know,” she said, “it seems to me one of Hook’s biggest regrets in the first book was giving up Baelfire to Pan. Maybe you could revisit that theme again. Maybe, I don’t know, Bae grew up after he left Neverland and had a kid of his own. What if that kid got taken by Pan too? What if Hook decided to go back to Neverland to save him?”
The ember of an idea lit within him as soon as Swan made her suggestion. “It has merit,” he said, fanning the flame that had taken hold. “Perhaps he assists the child’s mother in rescuing her son from the bloody demon.”
“Exactly!” Emma said. “He could complete his hero transformation, make amends for past mistakes and find love again all at once!”
In his mind's eye, Killian saw the dark jungles of Neverland, a rag-tag group of heroes on a rescue mission, Captain Hook slowly and inexorably falling in love with a strong woman with long blonde hair and flashing green eyes.
His fingers danced over the keys as the story began pouring out of him. It would seem his muse wasn’t gone after all; she’d merely needed Emma Swan to coax her out of hiding.
He must make a note to thank David for the scheduling mistake. This was shaping up to be one of the best Christmases he’d ever had.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Christmas morning dawned bright and clear the next day, sun streaming through the cabin’s windows, snow glittering on the panes like tiny diamonds.
Emma was warm and comfortable and oh so cozy.
Suddenly she realized just why she was so cozy. An arm was draped over her middle and a warm, solid man held her to him.
How had she and Killian ended up so tangled together?
Last night as bedtime approached, Emma had noticed Killian eying the sofa with clear regret. That thing couldn’t have been comfortable the night before, and Emma felt no small amount of guilt that she’d been the cause of that discomfort.
It was the guilt that inspired her next suggestion. That was it. Guilt and nothing more. It wasn’t that she found herself genuinely enjoying Killian’s company. It certainly wasn’t that a big part of her wondered what it would be like to share a bed with him–even in the most innocent sense of the word.
Nope. That couldn’t be it at all.
“Look, the bed’s plenty big,” she said a bit awkwardly. “‘If you want to, you know, share it with me tonight, I wouldn’t have a problem with it.”
He glanced up at her in surprise before a teasing glint entered his eyes. “Why Swan, are you propositioning me?”
Her heart raced far too quickly at the thoughts those words elicited. There was a distinct possibility she was in significant trouble here.
“Boundaries, Jones,” she said. “We’re both adults. I think we can manage to share a bed and keep our hands to ourselves.”
“Shame,” he said with a rather adorable little pout.
She laughed.
They’d fallen asleep last night with a good two feet of space between them.
Clearly sometime in the middle of the night they’d sought out each other’s warmth. Emma waited for the fear to seep in at the closeness, but it never came. She was just so damn cozy.
Oh gods, she’d somehow wandered into a Hallmark movie.
Her stirring must have woken Killian, and a moment later he opened his eyes, and nearly jumped away from her, his cheeks staining bright red.
“My apologies, love,” he said in a soft voice, gravelly from sleep (a voice that did things to her. Serious things.) “I didn’t mean to take advantage; wasn’t aware I had.”
She smiled, charmed at how flustered he’d become.
“Don’t apologize,” she said. “You’re warm….and it’s really cold out there today.”
He grinned, and she saw the mischief in his eyes. “If you’re cold, I’ve no doubt I can think of ways to remedy that. I’m endlessly resourceful.”
The way his voice lowered to a very suggestive growl on the last phrase made her shiver. She wasn’t even going to pretend it was due to the cold this time. “Think I’ll have to take a rain check on that,” she said, far more breathlessly than she’d like, “but it’s still early. More sleep sounds good. If you wanted to, you know, go back to the way we were, I wouldn’t object.”
He looked surprised at her suggestion. She was surprised at her suggestion. It wasn’t like it meant anything; it wasn’t like they’d ever actually see each other again after they were finally able to leave the cabin. What would it hurt to take a little innocent comfort in each other while they were here.
What happened in the cabin stayed in the cabin.
“As you wish,” he said, scooting closer to her and once again wrapping his arm around her middle. It felt so good; so right. Maybe when she was back to reality it would hit her what a bad idea this was, but for now, she would just enjoy her warm human blanket. Smiling at the comfort, she drifted back to sleep.
An hour later she woke again, feeling Killian’s even breathing against her neck. Carefully she maneuvered out of the bed, leaving him peacefully sleeping.
Donning her fluffy, warm slippers and an equally fluffy black robe, she padded over to the kitchen area. If she knew Mary Margaret, she’d have stocked the kitchen with everything a vacationer could want. Opening the first cabinet she smiled. Boxed pancake mix. Bingo.
As previously acknowledged, culinary skills Emma did not have, but anyone could manage a “just add water” mix, and in no time she’d poured her first pancakes into the skillet.
Emma heard rustling, and a moment later, she felt Killian step up behind her. “Something smells delicious,” he growled.
She shuddered, the sound of his low voice making her stomach swoop. “It’s just from a box,” she said, her voice far from steady.
He stepped even closer, until she could feel his warmth against her back. “I wasn’t talking about the pancakes.”
Emma nearly groaned, and no small part of her wanted to just turn around, say “to hell with the pancakes” and kiss him senseless, but fortunately she hadn’t lost her mind completely. Yet.
“Behave yourself,” she said again, grinning at his antics in spite of herself. “Go make yourself useful and start the coffee,” she said, waving her spatula in the general direction of the device in question.
He let out a long-suffering sigh and turned to do as she asked.
Dramatic idiot.
Breakfast turned out quite well if she did say so herself. The pancakes were warm and fluffy, and slathered in butter and syrup, were everything she could have wished for.
“I must say, Swan,” Killian said, sometime later, setting down his fork and dabbing at the corner of his mouth with his napkin, “for someone who claims to be hopeless in the kitchen, you provided a rather delectable breakfast.
Emma felt her heart squeeze, and she glanced aside. “Yeah, well, it’s always been our tradition that I make Henry anything he wants for Christmas morning. Nine times out of ten, that’s pancakes. Making them now…well it just makes it feel a little more like he’s with me.”
A moment later, she felt his hand cover hers. She turned to meet warm, sympathetic eyes. “I’m sorry you can’t be with your lad for Christmas morning. I know how hard that must be.”
She shrugged. “Neal may be a bastard, but it’s clear he loves our kid and he’s doing everything he can to be a good dad. I’d be a pretty crap mom to complain about my kid getting a chance to have a real relationship with his father.”
“Perhaps,” Killian said, “but it’s only human to miss him on such a special day.”
She didn’t respond to that. What, after all, was there to say? It was what it was.
“We’ve had breakfast,” Killian said a moment later. “Were you with your boy, what else might Christmas Day entail?”
“Well, presents, obviously,” Emma said, “and then assuming we had snow, we’d probably go out and make a snowman. Maybe come in for some cocoa and Christmas movies.”
Killian got to his feet, gathering up both his plate and hers. “Very well,” he said, “As you so generously prepared the meal, I’ll clean up. In the meantime, go on and get ready.”
“Get ready for what?”
Killian gestured to the window. “By my calculation, we got a good foot of snow yesterday. More than enough to make a most impressive snowman.”
Emma laughed. “Are you serious?”
“Why not?” he shrugged, before turning serious. “Swan, you deserve a happy Christmas, even if it can’t be with your lad.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Impressive,” Emma said, taking a step back to survey their masterpiece. “Looks good, doesn’t it?”
Killian looked over at her, noticed the way the joy sparkled in her eyes and the cold made her cheeks rosy. She was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her. “Magnificent”, he breathed.
She turned toward him, and if possible, the color on her cheeks deepened at his admiration. Quickly, she turned back toward the large snowman they’d spent the balance of the morning constructing. “He needs something though. He looks cold, doesn’t he?”
Killian grinned. “Cold is rather a requirement of a creature made of snow.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “You know what I mean. He needs a hat or a scarf or something.”
Killian unwound the simple black scarf from around his neck and drew in a deep breath at the chill suddenly surrounding him. “Better?” he asked after he’d properly clothed the snowman.
“Better for Frosty,” she said, giving Killian an assessing look, “but you’ve got to be freezing.”
“Offering to warm me up, darling?” he asked with an exaggerated wag of his brows.
Emma laughed, shoving his shoulder playfully. “You really need some new material. You’ve used the same innuendo on me like three times this weekend.”
“Why Swan,” he said with a feigned look of innocence, “What a dirty mind you’ve got. I simply meant to inquire after the hot cocoa you promised would follow our morning in the snow.”
Killian thought he could listen to the delightful sound of her laughter for the rest of his life.
As they trudged back into the inviting warmth of the cabin and set to work on the aforementioned cocoa, what he’d just thought hit him. He genuinely enjoyed Emma Swan’s company, and he’d like to have it for longer than simply a snowed-in weekend.
Was there any possibility that she’d be agreeable should he one day ask to court her?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Later that night, as the shadows began to lengthen and the sunset painted the sky in lovely shades of pink and purple, Emma sat cross-legged in front of the entertainment center, rifling through the DVDs the Nolans had stocked the cabin with. It seemed they had every Christmas movie ever made.
After some debate, it was decided that Emma and Killian would watch “A Christmas Story” as an end to a surprisingly enjoyable Christmas day. After making their snowman and drinking their cocoa, they’d made Christmas cookies, and then Emma had settled in with a good book while Killian typed away at his latest novel, the muse finally deciding to cooperate, it seemed.
The truth was that Killian was surprisingly good company. He had a wit and charm that was truly genuine once he dropped the endless flirting and innuendo (that Emma was coming to realize was as much his armor as anything else. You can keep people at bay when they dismiss you as a player.) The conversation today had been easy, effortless, and congenial.
Emma found that despite her initial impression of him, she actually liked Killian Jones, and she would be disappointed when this weekend was over and they had to go their separate ways.
Maybe….maybe the end of the weekend didn’t have to be the end of their new friendship (or whatever it might develop into).
That night, after the movie, there was no discussion about sleeping arrangements. They simply climbed into the bed together, Killian gathering her toward him with an arm around her middle. The fact that she loved the way this felt was something she’d need to examine more closely at some point, but for this night, she was just so comfortable she drifted immediately into a happy, peaceful sleep.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Killian’s cell phone buzzed first thing the next morning, and he rolled reluctantly away from the woman in his arms to grab the device and peer at the caller ID.
Dave
“Killian,” David started as soon as he’d answered sleepily. “Again, I’m sorry about the mix up. I hope it hasn’t been too much of an inconvenience.”
“Not at all, mate,” Killian said. “I’ve found Swan to be rather enjoyable company.”
There was silence for a moment, and Killian could nearly feel the suspicion bleeding off of his friend. “I certainly hope you’re not having too enjoyable of a time. She’s not one of your conquests, Killian.”
Killian rolled his eyes. He knew David Nolan was protective of his wife’s best friend; viewed her almost as the sister he never had. “Relax, Dave. I’ve been the perfect gentleman.”
“Good,” David said, “Keep it that way.”
Killian rolled his eyes again.
“Anyway,” David continued, “I’m just calling to let you know that the plows have been through and your path should be clear whenever you want to leave. Oh, and Merry Christmas.”
“Happy Christmas to you too.” Killian said in lieu of a farewell.
“David call with good news?” Emma asked sleepily as she rolled over and propped herself up on her elbows.
“The best,” he said, though a part of him felt a pang of regret that the happy bubble they’d been forced into was about to burst. “The roads are clear. We can leave whenever we wish.”
“Oh,” she said, glancing aside and looking (dare he hope) a mite disappointed. “Yeah, that’s good. I…I guess I should gather up my stuff and hit the road. I’ve got a few things I need to do before Henry gets home the day after tomorrow.”
“Aye, I suppose it’s for the best,” Killian agreed, though a large part of him wanted nothing more than to object.
Over the course of the next half hour they worked in silence gathering their things and preparing to depart. When all was put to rights and there was nothing left to do, Killian stopped Emma from turning toward the door with a hand to her arm.
“Before we leave, I have a Christmas gift for you, love.”
She looked surprised at the sheets of paper he handed her.
“It isn’t much,” he said, “but in between working on my novel I wrote a bit of a short story for you.”
She murmured her thanks, and immediately began reading. Not a paragraph in, a delighted smile covered her face, and she met his eyes. “It’s our story! The story of this weekend.”
“Aye,” he answered, smiling back at her warmly. “Go on. Read it.”
She nodded in agreement, settling in on the sofa and pulling her feet up beneath her. She read steadily for a quarter of an hour, and when she reached the final page, she frowned, turned it over, and then looked up at him, confusion in her eyes.
“Killian, it’s not finished,” she said. “How does it end?”
Killian took a deep breath. Now was the moment of truth. Now was the moment this Christmas either became one of the best of his life…or one of the most disappointing.
“That’s rather up to you, Swan,” he said. “I was hoping it would end with you giving me your phone number and agreeing to a date in the very near future.”
Her eyes rounded, and Killian had a moment of anxiety as he waited for her answer.
She didn’t answer with words. She answered by scooting closer to him, grabbing his lapels and pulling him down to her for a long and rather thorough kiss.
As it happened, that was all the answer he needed.
Up next (on 12/31): New York Christmas Serenade, pt. 1
12 Days of Captain Swan Reruns--Day 11: How the Witch Stole Christmas
Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t! One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia. A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns. So here you go! I’ve paired down my rerun posting schedule for this year (mostly because the holidays snuck up on me this year!), so I will have 1 story/day up until Christmas Eve, and then a New Year’s rerun posting New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Did I leave off one of your favorites? Check out my full gamut of Christmas fics [here]
Word Count: 2699
Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list):
Note: This story was first posted last year as a Secret Santa gift for @captainswan-kellie
“Thanks, Killian! Maybe we could go out on your boat again sometime,” Henry said as he bounded into their room at Granny’s.
“Anytime, lad,” Killian said softly, and Emma felt her heart turn over at the affection she heard in Hook’s voice toward her son. If she stopped to think about it too closely, it would scare the daylights out of her, how much she was coming to depend on him and lean on him in the midst of the latest craziness.
But that was a concern for another day. For right now, she just wanted to celebrate another day where they were still standing and the villain of the day hadn’t succeeded.
“How did the queen fare against the witch?” Killian asked, as though reading her thoughts. It was kind of unsettling how effortlessly he was able to do that..
“She survived, but the rest is definitely more than a doorway conversation,” Emma said, suddenly feeling tired as she recalled the showdown in the middle of town square.
She was about to thank him again, when suddenly her phone rang.
“Hey Mary Margaret, what’s up?” she asked, seeing her mother’s picture on the screen when she pulled the device from her back pocket.
“Can you and Hook meet us down in the parlor in say five minutes?” Mary Margaret asked.
“Sure?” she said, the word coming out more of a question than a statement. “What’s up? Is everything okay? Did the witch–”
“Oh nothing like that,” Mary Margaret said. “Don’t worry. Your father and I just had an idea.”
Killian gave her a concerned look as she hung up the phone. “Another crisis, Swan?”
“I don’t think so,” she said slowly. “That was Mary Margtaret and she sounded….excited. She wants us to meet her in the parlor. Just give me a second to tell the kid where I’m off to.”
Five minutes later, they found themselves seated on a loveseat in front of a merrily roaring fire in Granny’s parlor, an equally confused–and annoyed, from the look of it–Regina sitting across from them.
Before any of them had a chance to speculate what was up, Mary Margaret and David breezed in, cheeks reddened from the cold and a few stray snowflakes in their hair.
“Brr! It’s cold out there,” Mary Margaret said with a smile, “and it’s starting to snow–which is just perfect.”
Emma shot Killian a bemused look, and he shrugged, clearly as at a loss as she was.
“Mom,” Emma said, hoping to win some favor by using the familial term. “What’s all this about? Is there a new threat from Zelena? Did something else happen?”
“Oh nothing like that!” Mary Margaret said. “We called you all here because, well, tomorrow’s Christmas Eve.”
“Tomorrow’s….Christmas Eve?” Killian said blankly.
“Oh come on, Hook,” David said, “we had Christmas back in our land. Surely you know what it is!”
“Of course I bloody know what Christmas is,” Killian bit out. “What I fail to grasp is why that warrants a meeting of the heroes.”
“We have to plan a celebration, of course!” Mary Margaret said, nearly bounding on her chair. And there’s no time to waste!”
Regina gave her erstwhile enemy a look of disbelief. “My insane half sister is running around, trying to steal hearts and courage and who the hell knows what else, and you want to plan a party?”
A look of steely determination came into Mary Margaret’s face. “Yes, that’s exactly what I want to do,” she said. “I don’t know what the witch has planned. I don’t know how she plans to go about getting what she wants, but I do know one thing: when this town comes together we don’t fail. I refuse to let her steal the joy of the holiday from me or my family–or my town!”
“And the best way to stop her is to set up a Christmas tree and drink eggnog and give each other presents we don’t want anyway?” Regina continued.
“Couldn’t hurt,” David said.
“Of course it could!” Regina exploded. “Who knows what she’ll get accomplished while we galavant around town like idiots!”
“Swan? What do you think?” Killian asked, turning toward her.
She thought for a moment before formulating her answer. “I say, screw her,” she said finally. “Whatever insane plot she’s hatching, she’s basically acting like a spoiled kid, and what do you do with a spoiled kid? You ignore them. She wants to throw a temper tantrum, we’ll be ready for her.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The next morning, Zelena adjusted her hat, and then poofed herself out of her farmhouse to the edge of town, curious to see the effect her showdown with her pathetic younger sister had on the rest of the town.
She’d defeated her handily, thanks in part to her secret, Dark One, weapon.
Would the town be cowering in fear? Would they be huddled together trying to prepare for whatever new hell Zelena planned for them?
She looked around, and her brows furrowed in confusion. There was no spirit of fear or concern in the air. There was an air of excitement, of festivity. Grumpy and the rest of the dwarfs were dragging a huge pine tree onto the square and untangling strands of lights. Marco and Archie hung decorations on light posts. Belle sang a Christmas carol as she strung garland on the door of the library.
Zelena huddled farther into the large coat she’d donned to hide her identity for her reconnaissance mission. Stepping into Granny’s, she noticed the core group of heroes–along with Granny and Ruby were engaged in a strategy meeting.
But it wasn’t any kind of strategy meeting she would have expected. They seemed to be planning….a party.
“Should there be a gift exchange?” Mary Margaret asked.
“Put together in one day?” Regina asked skeptically.
“Why not?” Mary Margaret said. “What kind of Christmas party doesn’t even have a gift exchange? We could make it a game. A white elephant gift exchange!”
They were planning a party? The morning after she’d so soundly defeated her younger sister? Had they all gone crazy?
Wordlessly, Zelena slipped out of the diner. They thought to ignore her and the threat she posed? She’d see about that!
As she made her way back to her farmhouse, an idea came to her mind. A wonderful, terrible idea
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“So….the whole town is having a Christmas party?” Henry asked as he, Emma and Killian walked from their rooms toward the diner bright and early on Christmas morning.
“That they are lad,” Killian said, smiling delightedly. “Replete with gifts, games and holiday treats.”
“But…but weren’t you all just working to find the person who killed my dad, and now you’re having a party?” he asked.
Emma stopped and put a comforting hand on her son’s shoulder. “Kid, don’t worry, we’ll catch her. We just can’t stop living while we do. We can’t let her steal our joy.”
“Your father would want you to enjoy the season,” Killian added.
“But….are we safe?” Henry persisted.
A steely look came into Emma’s eyes. “The only person who isn’t safe is the w–I mean the killer, if she tries anything today.”
He looked closely at her for a moment. The kid had an unsettling way of looking for lies–much like she’d always had. Finally, he nodded. “Cool. So what does this town do for Christmas?”
“I guess we’re about to find out,” Emma said. “And kid…this town is….different, so don’t be surprised if some of their…traditions…are kind of weird.”
“Hey, I’m a kid,” Henry said. “As long as there are presents and sweets I’m happy.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The party went off without a hitch–until late in the afternoon. Frankly Killian was shocked how long it took for the witch to strike.
They’d just finished a delectable Christmas dinner and were setting up for the white elephant gift exchange–which would no doubt prove to be interesting, given the fact at least four of the dwarves were well into their cups by that point, and Happy was fully inebriated–when a tremendous clatter was heard outside the diner.
As one, the residents of Storybrooke fled to the door and windows to see what was happening.
Zelena, in full on green skin, black dress and hat walked purposely toward them, while a band of flying monkeys screamed to each other, tearing decorations from windows and doors, destroying the carefully decorated tree.
A loud murmur of concern and fear went through the assembly as the witch approached. Henry, for his part, gave his mother a bemused look.
“Uh…” she said, thinking hard, “this is….this is…”
“The traditional Christmas interactive play,” Regina said, coming to her aid.
“She looks like the Wicked Witch of the West,” Henry said, skeptically. “What does she have to do with Christmas?”
“It’s the green skin,” Emma said. “She’s like… the grinch.”
“So….you do an interactive Grinch play starring the Wicked Witch of the West?”
Fortunately, Swan was saved answering that question by the arrival of the witch herself.
“Well, isn’t this a festive assembly?” Zelena said, walking in confidently. “Didn’t get enough the other night, sis?”
Without further ado, Zelena raised her hands, called on all of her magic, and…..nothing happened.
“What the hell?” she asked, looking down at her hands.
“Protection spell,” Regina said, gesturing around the diner. “Covers the whole place. Sorry to ruin your greatest Christmas wish, but your annoying green hands are tied here.”
“You can’t keep a spell that powerful up forever!” Zelena thundered. “Sooner or later I will break through.”
“Maybe so,” Regina continued. “But it won’t happen until after Christmas.”
“Look, greenie,” Emma said, “It’s Christmas. We’re all here to enjoy ourselves. You’ve got two options: leave us the hell alone, or get over yourself, grab an eggnog and act like an adult, rather than a spoiled child.”
Zelena looked murderous for another moment, and then her facade crumbled. “You’d really let me join your party? Knowing who I am? What I’m capable of? That I’m planning to destroy you all?”
Mary Margaret approached her with a cup of eggnog. “It’s Christmas, Zelena. Everyone deserves a little grace and a second chance at Christmas. I bet there’s even a gift for you under that tree.”
“Come join us,” David said. “After all, you can always go back to trying to destroy us tomorrow.”
Perhaps the magic of the season touched her. Perhaps she, like all the rest of them was simply tired. Perhaps her heart grew three sizes that day. Whatever the reason, after a long silence, in which it felt like no one so much as moved, the witch nodded and the party went on.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Much later that evening a bemused Zelena returned to her farmhouse. What manner of witchcraft had her spoiled sister used upon her? She’d gone to the town to destroy their Christmas, and instead they’d invited her in, allowed her to make merry with them, treated her as one of their own.
Was it possible she’d been wrong about them–wrong about everything?
No, she finally decided, sitting before the fire. No, she wouldn’t let a little reverse psychology derail her like that! Tomorrow it was back to business as usual. Tomorrow she went back to getting the ingredients she needed. Tomorrow she took the next step toward getting what she truly deserved–a life in which her sister had never been born. A life in which she was the favored and only daughter.
And, after all, tonight hadn’t been a complete waste. She’d gained some useful intel. It seemed the Savior and the pirate were quite close. The way they looked at each other. The way they sought each other out. Quite the budding romance there.
Perhaps she could use it to her advantage. Perhaps it was just what she needed to neutralize the savior. Just a little bit of manipulation, a little bit of deception, and she had no doubt she’d succeed in cursing the pirate’s lips and letting him do the rest for her.
Until then, she had a bigger problem. The whole noxious town had come together to work as one. She couldn’t have that. Couldn’t have that at all. She had to do something to wipe the warm fuzzies from everyone’s consciousness.
Looks like it was time for one last memory spell. Taking a vial from her bag, she uncorked it and let the fog waft from it toward the town.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“So kid, what did you think of Storybrooke Christmas?” Emma asked as the three of them headed back toward their rooms.
“Mom, this town is really, really weird,” he said.
“You don’t know the half of it,” she muttered under her breath.
“But,” he concluded, “it was a really good Christmas. Thanks for bringing me.”
She gave him a quick hug. “Kid, there’s no one in the world I’d rather spend Christmas with than you, no matter where or how we do it.”
“Me too, mom,” he said, returning her hug, before yawning loudly.
“Okay, time for bed, kid,” she said, opening their door, and gesturing inside. “I’ll be in in a moment. Just want to talk to Killian.”
She waited until the door was closed after him, and then turned back to Killian. “Well, it looks like a Christmas disaster was averted, and the kid’s no worse for the wear.”
“Your lad is stronger than you think, love,” Killian said softly, taking a step closer to her and hooking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “And you did a fantastic job giving him a joyful and memorable Christmas.”
“You really think so?” she asked tentatively. “Killian, I never really had Christmas growing up the way I did, and so I always want to make sure Henry doesn’t feel the loss the way I did.”
“And he never will,” he said with a gentle smile, “because he has a mother who loves him. It makes up for any….less than perfect Christmas moment.”
Her heart turned over at the look he gave her. The look he was always giving her. He believed in her, really, truly believed in her. He was on her side and in her corner, no matter what. It didn’t matter what she did, what she said, how much she tried to push him away. He’d once told her he was in it for the long haul, and she was finally, finally beginning to suspect that he meant it.
She looked up at him for long moments as her heart pounded. If she didn’t step away soon, she was going to do something stupid. Like kiss him.
She should turn around, walk back into her room. Bid him good night.
But it was Christmas. The day had been magical. She was feeling good–and he was a big part of it.
Screw it. Tomorrow she’d go back to guarding her heart. For tonight. For one night only, she’d show him what his support meant to her.
Reaching up, she grabbed his lapels and pulled him down for a long, slow kiss. If he was surprised at her actions, he didn’t show it, merely pulling her close, and kissing her back just as fervently as he let his hand tangle in her hair.
Just how long the kiss would have gone on–and how passionate it would have become–Emma didn’t know, because just as she turned her head to deepen the kiss even further, she caught a faint wisp of–something (smoke? Fog? A spell?) out of the corner of her eye.
She pulled away, watching as the fog billowed toward them, and then overtook them, so quickly, she didn’t even have time to cry out.
But no sooner had the cloud overtaken them than it dissipated, and suddenly Emma couldn’t remember what they’d been doing or why.
She shook her head. The showdown between Regina and Zelena must have rattled her more than she’d thought.
“How did the queen fare against the witch?” Killian asked,
“She survived, but the rest is definitely more than a doorway conversation,” Emma replied. “Thanks again for taking him out on your ship.”
12 Days of Captain Swan Reruns--Day 10: The Twelve Days of Storybrooke
Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t! One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia. A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns. So here you go! I’ve paired down my rerun posting schedule for this year (mostly because the holidays snuck up on me this year!), so I will have 1 story/day up until Christmas Eve, and then a New Year’s rerun posting New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Did I leave off one of your favorites? Check out my full gamut of Christmas fics [here]
Word Count: 2325
Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list):
Notes: This story was written for @pirateherokillian for the CS Secret Santa event last year. Emma and Killian find themselves dealing with yet another town crisis—this one with a very Christmassy flavor.
Killian woke with a gasp, taking a moment to let his heart rate return to normal. It had been a while since he’d had the dream, but when he did he woke absolutely bloody terrified.
Six months ago Emma had won the final battle, and the residents of Storybrooke had begun their happily ever afters. It had been good, so, so far beyond good since then. He and Emma had taken a two-week honeymoon on the Jolly. They’d had no real destination in mind; they’d merely chosen to sail somewhere warm and tropical. Two weeks of uninterrupted time together had been better than even his fertile imagination could have dreamed up.
When they’d returned home, they’d set up house and then begun the process of deciding just what they would do with the remainder of their lives (besides spending copious amounts of time in bed, of course. They were newly-weds, after all). When Dave had decided to pursue his life-long dream of owning a farm, the decision had been simple. Killian would take the position of Emma’s deputy. Now he and Swan were partners in everything–life and work.
As he said, life was good.
But the fact that life was now as close to idyllic as it could get didn’t erase the years and years of trauma they had all been through over the past few years, and for the first couple of months, Killian had the same nightmare nearly every night.
They were back there on the streets of Storybrooke, Swan facing Gideon and the final battle about to commence. He’d known what she was going to do a split second before she did it. She’d turned back toward him, agony and regret in her eyes. Before he even had time to scream in horror, she’d dropped her sword, letting Gideon run her through.
It was the only way to truly escape the trap the Black Fairy had set for them. The strategic part of Killian’s brain knew that to be true. But his heart, a heart that had lost everyone it had ever loved, rejected the idea. He couldn’t lose her, his true love, the best part of his very self, his beloved wife. Not now! Not ever.
He’d watched as Gideon’s sword made contact, and Swan grunted in pain, falling to the ground. Her lad went to her, told her he loved her, kissed her.
And nothing happened.
Henry tried True Love’s Kiss again. Still nothing.
Killian tried, kissing her until his lips were bruised. She remained still and dead.
He’d lost the most important person he’d ever had in his life, and he was sure the agony really would kill him.
Killian took a deep breath, shaking his head to clear the distressing images from his mind, and then turning onto his side, tears of relief coming into his eyes as his gaze took in the peacefully sleeping form of his wife.
She was here. She was alive. She was well. They’d gotten their happy beginning, and he need never fear the final battle again.
They’d been married long enough for Killian to know waking his sleeping Swan was a rather unwise proposition, but still he leaned over and softly caressed her cheek, pushing aside her tangled hair. He needed to touch her, needed to reassure himself that it was just a dream; that she was here and that she was well.
She was so beautiful, so vibrant. He leaned down and kissed her, softly, gently. She stirred at the touch of his lips to hers, smiling in her sleep and whispering his name. After a moment, she wrapped her arms around his neck and began kissing him back.
He’d feared she’d be angry at him for waking her, but it seemed she had another form of sweet torture for him instead. The fire built up inside of him as the kiss continued and Swan’s hands began wandering. This wasn’t necessarily how he’d planned to begin Christmas Eve morning, but Killian was so very far from complaining.
He’d only just reached for the hem of Emma’s pajama top when her talking phone began blaring “Jingle Bells.”
She groaned, reluctantly pulling her mouth from his.
“Ignore it, Love,” he whispered, kissing down the column of her neck.
“Good plan,” she responded in a far-from-steady voice as she pulled his mouth back to hers.
But the wretch on the other end of the phone seemed quite insistent. No sooner had the talking phone gone silent than it started up again.
Emma growled, rolling away from him to reach for the phone. “Sounds like they’re not giving up. I better see what it is.”
Emma tapped at the screen for a moment, and then barked. “What?”
She listened for a moment before rolling her eyes. “Just a second, Dad. Killian’s here too. Let me put you on speaker.”
A few more taps at the screen and then Dave’s voice came through the speaker.
“Like I said to Emma, Killian, I’m really sorry for the interruption; I know I offered to cover the station so you two could have a couple days off, but we’ve got a bit of a situation here.”
Killian sighed. They’d had six months of peace. He supposed it was the best run they could hope for. “Just what kind of situation?”
“Well,” David said slowly. “I…don’t know exactly how to describe it. I know it involves lots of birds.”
“Birds?” Emma bit out. “Dad, you interrupted us because of birds? Isn’t that more Mom’s department?”
“She doesn’t know what to make of it either. Besides, some of the birds don’t seem to even speak English.”
Emma shook her head. “I kind of hate that a sentence like that almost makes sense to me. Still, why are you bothering us for birds–no matter what language they speak?”
“It’s not just the birds,” David said. “There are other oddities. Women dancing, people playing instruments, men randomly jumping up and down, cows being milked. Full-grown trees suddenly appearing. I don’t know what’s going on, but it is truly bizarre, and you know how this town is. The usual suspects are already starting to freak out.”
“I’m assuming Leroy has begun heralding the news?” Killian said.
David chuckled. “Obviously.”
In the background, Killian could hear the dwarf himself yelling “The bagpipers! They’re here!”
“Anyway,” David said, “I’ve tried to calm everyone as best I can, but the rumor has already begun circulating that we’re under attack. I wouldn’t ask it unless I really thought it was necessary, but I really think I need back up.”
Emma sighed again, pushing aside the covers and reaching for her jeans. “Alright Dad, we’re on our way.”
“Never a dull moment, is there, love?” Killian asked, climbing from his side of the bed….just as the sound of a full on drum line began playing outside their bedroom window.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“I think we need to go on the attack!” Leroy shouted from the back of city hall, as the impromptu town hall meeting began. “This is our town, and we need to defend it!”
Emma rolled her eyes–she’d been doing that so much already today that she feared she’d go blind. Just when she thought things in Storybrooke couldn’t get weirder, something like this happened.
As she and Killian had driven into town, she could tell her dad hadn’t been exaggerating. Everywhere she looked was something else out of place. Fully grown pear trees, each with a bird perched on one of its limbs, blue birds with–if one could believe it–cell phones held to their heads. Hen’s wearing berets and waving French flags. Groups of swans performing some sort of synchronized swimming routine in the harbor. Pairs of turtle doves nestled together, cooing sweet nothings in each other’s ears. Geese lying around in the street.
And that was only the birds. As they neared the center of town, Emma began noticing the groups of people–people she’d never seen before–behaving in distinctly odd fashion. There were the maids milking, the men in three-piece suits playing leap-frog with each other and the scantily clad women (shouldn’t they be freezing dressed like that in December?) seductively dancing to the music of a pipe and drum corp.
Right in the center of town, a set of five, huge golden hoops sat upon the ground.
(“Stay away from the rings!” she heard someone shout. “Probably portals to some dystopian hellscape!”)
Regina, as the newly reinstated mayor, had taken control, promptly calling a town meeting and magicing the word out to all the town’s residents.
And so here they were, huddled together in town hall, trying desperately to make sense of…well, anything that was going on today.
Seriously, though. Couldn’t whatever villain or whatever had done this have at least waited until after Christmas. Rude.
“Who precisely do you suggest we attack?” Regina asked with a sneer. “We don’t even know what is going on, let alone who has perpetrated it.”
“I might be able to answer that first question,” Belle said, from her place in the back next to her husband and sleeping newborn.
“Yeah?” Emma asked. “What do you think is going on?”
Belle got to her feet and looked over at the assembled town. “Well, it’s Christmas Eve, and we’re seeing everything from partridges in pear trees to drummers drumming. Think about it! Every weird thing going on right now has something to do with one of the gifts from the Christmas song.”
Emma groaned. Of course. Of course someone had decided to mess with them by sending the twelve days of Christmas.
“So who do we think’s doing it?” Henry asked. “Can anyone think of a Christmas related villain that might want to attack us?”
Various suggestions were thrown out there–from Ebenezer Scrooge to the Grinch, to Mr. Potter from It’s a Wonderful Life, but none seemed to quite fit the bill.
“Well, we aren’t getting anywhere just speculating,” Emma said. “If there is some kind of psycho Christmas villain going after us, we’ll have to wait until they make another move. For the time being, it doesn’t seem like any of the birds or….performers…are causing any harm. I guess just…don’t panic.”
“We’ve defeated much worse than eleven pipers piping!” Snow chirped up in a way-too cheery voice. “This town will get through it the way we get through everything! Together!”
The meeting had only just adjourned, when Emma’s cell phone began ringing. She looked down and frowned. It was a long distance number. A very long distance number.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Emma curled up on the sofa, bringing her legs up beneath her and leaning into Killian’s open arm. She chuckled as she brought her mug of cocoa to her lips and glanced over at their huge, brightly decorated Christmas tree.
“Did you see Leroy’s face when that goose suddenly decided to stop lying around and started chasing him through the streets? I thought he was going to start screaming like a little girl.”
Killian laughed, turning his head to give her a quick kiss on the forehead. It was one of her favorite things about being with Killian, all of the simple, casual signs of affection. “I’d pay an entire pouch full of doubloons for a moving picture of that moment.”
Emma laughed again. “It’s amazing how quickly everyone’s mood shifted, though once we found out we weren’t in fact under attack. Seems like nothing can dampen the Christmas spirit for long around here this year.”
No sooner had the town hall meeting ended, than Emma got a video call from Arendelle. “Emma!” Elsa had said as soon as the call connected. “I’m really sorry about this. I had no idea!”
Emma’s brow furrowed, and she exchanged a mystified look with Killian. “You’re sorry about what? I’d really like to chat, but we’ve got a bit of a situation here–like always.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Elsa said. “Apparently Anna…”
“Did you get it?” came Anna’s perky voice as her excited face popped into frame. “Did you get our gifts? I mean, technically, they’re supposed to be for your true love, so maybe I should have given them to Kristoff, but I figured you wouldn’t care, even if Storybrooke isn’t my True Love. I mean I like Storybrooke, but True Love is kind of a strong term.”
Elsa rolled her eyes. “What my sister is trying to say is that she–without consulting me–decided to send Storybrooke the twelve days of Christmas, compliments of Arendelle.”
Killian nodded before taking a sip of his own steaming beverage. “It was rather impressive how quickly and efficiently the town was able to rid the town square of the well meaning, if rather annoying gifts once they were assured that there was nothing nefarious going on.”
“And can you believe how quickly Granny was able to put that town-wide Christmas party together?” Emma asked.
“This town truly is a wonder,” Killian said, draining the last sip of his cocoa before turning his full attention toward his wife, “but I have rather a different idea of how I’d like to celebrate Christmas Eve with my wife than talking about the town.”
“Yeah?” she asked, setting her mug on the end table and turning to face him. “Care to tell me what that is?”
He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows before shaking his head. “Oh darling, I don’t plan to tell you. I plan to show you.”
And he did just that–quite thoroughly, long into the night.
Just before they fell asleep, exhausted and exquisitely sated, Emma heard Leroy’s shout far in the distance. “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
12 Days of Captain Swan Reruns--Day 9: It’s a Hell of a Christmas
Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t! One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia. A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns. So here you go! I’ve paired down my rerun posting schedule for this year (mostly because the holidays snuck up on me this year!), so I will have 1 story/day up until Christmas Eve, and then a New Year’s rerun posting New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Did I leave off one of your favorites? Check out my full gamut of Christmas fics [here]
Word Count: 7827
Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list):
This fic was written for the CS Secret Santa event in 2022. It’s Emma and Killian’s first Christmas together following the Final Battle. After spending a happy family day together, they relax before the tree and Emma asks Killian about his favorite Christmas memory. His answer surprises both of them
CS Genre: Season 7 missing scene
1 week before the first Christmas following the Final Battle
Killian sighed in contentment as the sofa beside him dipped and Emma curled up beside him. Wrapping his hooked arm around her, he pulled her to himself and gave her a quick kiss before she laid her head against his shoulder.
It had been about as close to a perfect day as he’d experienced in a long time. He’d woken up, as always, in his wife’s arms, smiling as she softly snored, burrowing into his warmth. After taking a few moments to simply enjoy the comfort, he’d carefully maneuvered out of the bed. He’d learned quite early in their marriage that a man was taking his very life into his hands when he was foolhardy enough to wake Emma before she was ready.
After a pleasant morning spent with Swan and her lad, she’d shooed the two of them out of the house, citing the fact that Christmas was fast approaching and she needed to wrap presents in peace without prying eyes
“I thought kids were bad, when it comes to looking for their hidden Christmas present,” she’d said with a grin, “but you, Killian, have them all beat.”
He’d grinned, leaning down to give her a loud, smacking kiss, before straightening and raising one eyebrow. “Pirate,” he stated simply.
She laughed, shoving him toward the door.
“Don’t forget my parents are coming over for dinner tonight,” she’d said, “and then they and little Neal are helping us trim the tree.”
He’d promised to return in plenty of time to help with dinner preparations, and then after one last lingering kiss (prompting Henry to make exaggerated gagging sounds behind them), he and the lad had taken their leave. They’d hardly walked a block toward town before they were met by Emma’s father and little brother.
“You guys get kicked out of the house too?” Dave asked.
“Aye,” Killian said with a nod. “It seems the Charming and Jones men are due for another of those–what did you call them?--guys’ days.”
And so they’d spent the afternoon enjoying the snow and the company–helping the lads build a snowman, waging an all out snowball war (which the Charming’s had won handily–but only because neither he nor Henry had the heart to toss a snowball anywhere near three-year-old Neal. Killian smiled as he recalled the tiny lad’s peals of laughter as his snowball connected with Henry’s shoulder and Emma’s lad had staggered, clutched his heart and then dramatically fallen to the ground), and then retired to Granny’s for some much appreciated sustenance.
“Well, I suppose I should get this little guy back home for his n-a-p,” Dave said as mid afternoon approached, making sure to spell the word he knew would result in a mutiny from his little lad, “but we’ll see you in a couple hours for dinner.”
It had been a pleasant evening with the family, as they set up the Christmas tree, trimming it with twinkling electric lights and bright, colorful baubles. Henry, with great fanfare, had presented him with a new ornament to mark his first official Christmas as Henry’s step-father. Killian groaned good-naturedly as he’d opened the box to reveal a small likeness of his Disney counterpart. He’d played up his disdain at the assassination of his character, before placing the ornament on prominent display.
It had been an ordinary day, spent engaging in ordinary family activities, and Killian wouldn’t have changed a moment of it.
The Charmings had remained until it was time to put the little prince to bed, and then they’d taken their leave, with many promises for more festivities in the coming days. Soon after, Henry had taken his leave, as he was due to spend a few days at Regina’s
“It really is a pretty tree, isn’t it?” Emma asked, as they lounged on their sofa looking up at the brightly lit fir in question.
“Aye,” Killian agreed. “A lovely tree, and a lovely evening.”
“Can you believe it?” she asked. “Our first Christmas together as a married couple and we get to spend it with no looming crisis hanging over our heads, no villains threatening us.”
“I rather think I could get used to this ‘Happy Beginning’ business we’ve found ourselves in,” he’d agreed.
Emma laughed, reaching up to absently run her fingers through his hair. She was so affectionate now, never passing up an opportunity to give him little signs of her love, and he found it utterly delightful.
“You must have a lot of stories from past Christmases,” Emma continued with a grin. “After all, you’ve celebrated like a million of them.”
“Oy!” he stated with mock offense, “It couldn’t have been more than two hundred fifty.”
She laughed joyously, and he grinned, turning to give her a quick kiss on the top of her head. “So what was your favorite Christmas, Killian?”
He thought about it for a moment, several memories running through his mind like one of those moving picture shows Swan and her lad enjoyed watching of an evening. One rather surprising moment stood out above all the others.
“You’ll think me mad,” he said finally, “but I think my favorite Christmas was actually last year.”
Emma sat up and looked at him with astonishment. “Last Christmas? But last Christmas we were in…”
He nodded. “Aye, quite so. Who would have believed my favorite Christmas memories would occur in the Underworld?”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Everything hurt. Everything. His bones, his muscles, his sinews; he'd swear even his hair hurt if that were possible. Hades may be a bloody bastard, but never let it be said he wasn't skilled in the art of torture.
It was nearly Christmas. Killian likely wouldn't have marked the occasion, save for the festive elf costumes Hades insisted his demons wear as they went about their masochistic ministrations.
The demons themselves had heartily enjoyed themselves, singing Christmas song parodies as they whipped him and burnt him with hot pokers so brutally it had taken everything within him to keep from screaming in pain.
We wish you an awful Christmas,
We wish you an awful Christmas
We wish you an awful Christmas
and a hellish New Year!
…
Lord Hades is bringing the pain!
He sees you when you're sleeping
He knows when you're awake
He don't care if you've been bad or good,
He'll still throw you in his lake!
And so, it seemed he would. Angry that he couldn't break Killian, angry that despite it all, Killian refused to extinguish that last spark of hope he'd learned to foster, thanks to Emma and her family, Hades had decided to stamp it out of him in the only way he could--by lowering him bit by bit into the sickly green lake in which he would finally lose himself forever.
He supposed it was only just that it should all end this way. After his centuries of villainy he deserved nothing better. Once he was finally gone and lost forever, Emma and her family could return and build a happy life for themselves free of the pain and suffering he brought to everyone who came in contact with him.
His heart lurched at the thought of Emma. How he loved her! For one bright, shining moment, he'd allowed himself to believe they could be together, that he would achieve the happiness he'd fruitlessly searched for for so many decades, but then it had all gone to hell…literally.
The crane lowering him into the River of Lost Souls lurched downward yet again, and Killian focused on her, on his Emma. He was determined she would be the last thing he thought of before he could think no more.
"Killian!"
He would swear he could hear her beloved voice, but it was clearly a last trick of his deluded mind.
"Kilian," she said again, softer this time, tenderly. "Hang on. I’m coming for you. I got ya."
And then she was there holding him, freeing him from the chains, cradling him in her lap. Killian couldn't bite back the soft groans as his injuries complained of the contact.
The hope and joy Hades had failed to root out of him flared to life for a brief moment, but then reality set in once again.
"I told you to let me go," he said. "You shouldn’t be here; no one should."
She gave him a wry smile as she cupped his face, then gently swept the bangs from his forehead. "I never listen."
He smiled in spite of himself. "You’re impossible."
She grinned in response. "And you love me for it."
And gods but he did. More than she could ever know or comprehend. Soon enough he would have to send her home, protect her from himself and the absolute misery he brought to everyone with whom he interacted, but for now, for this one bright shining moment, he could do naught but enjoy the comfort her presence brought.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Later that evening, promontory beside the lake of fire
“Liam! Please! Hold on!” Killian pleaded, holding onto his brother’s hand with all the strength within him.
If there had been any question at all before, it was gone now. This was well and truly hell.
Everything was crashing around him. Everything. His entire world was imploding, everyone he loved facing unimaginably horrific fates, and it was all his fault.
After rescuing him from the River of Lost Souls, Emma had poofed him back to the Underworld version of her home. She’d taken a seat on the musty sofa, calling him over to join her, patting the seat beside her.
“Come, sit down,” she cajoled, “Let me look at you.”
His wounds ached and throbbed. It was hard to breathe; hard to think; hard to keep from crying out with every movement. He couldn’t imagine what he must look like, his visage marred from the beatings he’d endured.
“Are you sure you want to?” he said wryly. “Hades sort of knocked the handsome out of me.”
She grinned playfully at him. “No one’s that powerful.”
Were their situation different, he’d have flirted back, made her laugh with his nonsense, but presently it was all he could do to shuffle over to the sofa and collapse beside her.
No sooner had he taken his seat than Emma waved her hand over him, and it felt as though a shower of pure, warm sunshine washed over him, taking with it the pain and injury and leaving him whole. Even yet, the strength and power of her magic astounded him.
For a moment, Killian felt nothing but relief.
And then reality set in yet again, as it always did in this terrible place. Emma was here, in hell itself, because of him, because of his weakness. Waves of self-loathing like nothing he’d ever experienced washed over him.
She leaned in toward him, lips moving toward his. He pulled back, turning his head. He was unworthy of her love, unworthy of anyone’s love.
“What’s the problem?” she asked, pulling back to get a better look at him.
“It’s just…” he began, struggling to even put into words the depths of his hatred of himself and what he’d done. “A lot has happened between us.”
“What’s the problem?” she asked again.
How did she not see it? How was she still looking at him with love? Agitated, he got to his feet and paced away from her.
“I’m the problem,” he bit out. “Emma, you were the Dark One for six weeks and only gave into the darkness out of love. I plunged in head first in a second for revenge. I was weak.”
“Not in the end!” she insisted.
A single moment of heroism didn’t make up for centuries of villainy, and he well knew it. “You raised the bar very high, Swan. The fact is, I don’t measure up.”
“Let me be the judge of that,” she said, her voice insistent. “If you didn’t, would I have come all the way down here to try to save you?”
She would, and he knew it, because she was good. She was a hero. He was anything but.
“That’s my point. I’m not sure I deserve saving.”
Their conversation had been cut short in the most unexpected way–by the arrival of his brother Liam. What had followed were a few blessedly joyous and peaceful hours, as Killian introduced his first true love to his second. The two best people he’d ever known, together in one place. Despite his guilt and misery, he couldn’t suppress the joy the meeting brought.
But even this was destined to crash down around him.
It started with Emma’s superpower telling her something was amiss with Liam. Something had happened between the two of them, but Killian didn’t know what it was; didn’t want to know what it was.
He didn’t understand how Emma could think Liam, the most moral and straight-laced man Killian had ever known, could be anything but on the up and up, but she was quite convinced.
The moment Silver’s crew had shown up and proven Emma right had been the most disorienting moment of his life. It felt as though he were suffering from vertigo, his entire world turning upside down as the horrible truth settled in around him–Liam had lied to him, and not only that, he had entered into a deal with Hades, allowing the entire crew to be lost at sea in order to save Killian.
My fault, my fault, my fault! The words echoed in his mind like a mantra.
If it hadn’t been for Killian, Liam would never have fallen. Killian wasn’t merely cursed, he was the curse. He infected and destroyed everyone around him.
Everything had moved quickly after the horrible revelation, and Killian had been so shell-shocked he could do nothing but move with the inexorable tide.
Silver’s crew had marched Liam and himself to the lake of fire, intent on making the brothers Jones walk the plank, but their intentions were upended by the arrival of Hades himself.
Liam had, once again, attempted to shield Killian from his just punishment, and the result had brought them to the moment they now found themselves in–Liam slipping inexorably toward the lake of fire, Killian more terrified than he’d ever been. He couldn’t lose Liam again. Not now. Not like this.
“Liam! Please! Hold on!”
“I’m sorry brother, for all I’ve done,” Liam shouted above the flames threatening to consume him. “Can you forgive me?”
It wasn’t even a question. Like Emma, Liam had only fallen for one reason–love of him. His guilt was quite misplaced. “Yes, but that’s not what’s important. You need to find a way to forgive yourself.”
“I can’t, not after what I did to you.” The look in Liam’s eyes made Killian’s heart sink like a stone. “The only way to make amends is to pay the price.”
And then Liam let go.
Shear panic and aching horror took over, as Killian reached down, trying fruitlessly to stop what was happening.
But the panic was short-lived. A moment later, the flames disappeared to be replaced by a serene sea. Liam rose above all of it upon a little rowboat, a smile gracing his lips.
Killian felt the tears prickle behind his eyes, tears of relief this time. “Liam! You’re safe!”
Liam’s smile widened. “Yes, it appears I am. I suppose this is the sacrifice I should have made long ago. I can finally depart.”
Killian looked beyond his brother. Where once had stood the rocky wall of the cave, now was nothing but open waters and a port city which appeared stocked with all the provisions Liam would need for his next mighty adventure.
Liam had truly redeemed himself, and now his own personal paradise awaited him.
“Then go. All of you,” Killian said, gesturing to the remaining crew, “Now that you know the truth, your unfinished business is complete as well.”
“Get on board, men,” Liam said, offering the sailors a hand. “What about you, brother?”
Killian turned away. Liam deserved this. Silver’s crew did as well. He, most certainly, did not.
“I think not,” Killian said finally. “There’s nothing for me but the lake of fire. I deserve no better.”
Liam stepped out of the boat, instructing the first mate to leave without him. Insisting his everlasting reward could wait.
If anything, the pit in Killian’s stomach grew wider, into an abyss there would be no crossing. “Why would you do that?” he shouted. “Why would you delay your paradise? I’m. Not. Worth. It!”
Liam frowned. “That’s nonsense, brother. You’ve become a true hero in a way I never could.”
Killian scoffed. “A hero?” he scoffed, putting every ounce of derision he could muster into those two syllables. “I’m anything but. I’m a pariah to all who meet me. Everyone who has the misfortune of coming into contact with me is worse off–much worse off–for having known me. You would all be better off if I flung myself into that lake of fire, perishing once and for all.”
“You really think those who love you would be happier knowing you burnt to death in a lake of fire?” Liam asked softly. “Emma? Her lad? Me?”
Killian glanced aside. “Well, maybe not. Maybe it would have been better if I’d never been born.”
Liam was silent for a moment, thinking. “That’s an idea,” he muttered to himself. “What do you think, Zeus? That could work.”
Killian’s brow furrowed. “What are you on about?”
“Done, Killian,” Liam said, clapping his hands together. “You’ve never been born. You don’t exist.”
There was a flash of light, a clap of thunder, and then all went silent.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
For a moment Killian merely looked at his brother.
“Pardon?” He said finally.
“You’ve never been born,” Liam repeated. “You don’t exist.”
“Then…who am I?”
“You’re no one,” Liam said. “Killian, you’ve been given a great gift, the opportunity to see what the world would look like if you’d never been in it. Are you ready to explore? To see the impact you have no longer had?”
Killian wasn’t sure he was ready for this. After all…it was altogether possible everyone was infinitely happier and more fulfilled without his toxic influence.
Still, he’d never been a coward. He didn’t intend to start now. “Very well, lead on.”
They made their way from the cave back to the filthy streets of Underbrooke. The first thing Killian noticed was that the town appeared far more crowded than it had when they entered the cave. Dozens, maybe hundreds of men dressed in uniforms he recognized as belonging to some of the rival kingdoms he had fought as part of the Royal Navy, milled about.
“Who are these men?” Killian asked. “Why have they suddenly arrived?”
“They haven’t suddenly arrived,” Liam said as they began making their way through the crowds. “They’ve been here for more than 200 years–ever since our corrupt king used dreamshade on them.”
“But that’s impossible!” Killian insisted after mumbling a quick apology to a man he bumped into. “We discovered the King’s plans for the dreamshade and we refused to turn over the poison!”
Liam shook his head. “You weren’t around to question the king’s command.”
“But surely you discovered the plant's properties and did the honorable thing,” Killian insisted.
Liam stopped suddenly, giving Killian a long look. “I wasn’t around either. Come. I have something I need to show you.”
Killian followed Liam back to the bar he’d tended since his death, questions swirling in his head.
Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.
Liam was behind the bar, but he looked nothing like the Liam Killian knew and loved. This man was young, likely no more than eighteen or nineteen. There was a hard look about him, that of a man who had seen and endured far too much in the short time he’d lived.
A man who hadn’t had any hope.
Killian turned toward his guide, his Liam. “How are you…there and…here?”
“Properly speaking, I’m not,” Liam said. “As I’ve already, for all intents and purposes, moved on, I, like you, don’t exist here. The man you see behind the bar is Liam Jones as he would have been had you never been born.”
“Why is he so…young?”
Guide Liam sidled up to the bar, waving Killian over to join him. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
“What’ll it be, gentlemen?” Young Liam asked in a bored voice, continuing to wipe down glasses as he eyed his new customers.
“I’m rather partial to whiskey myself,” Liam said genially, “and my brother here has a preference for rum, if I remember correctly.”
Young Liam nodded, and had just turned around to fulfill the request, when Killian finally found his voice. “Liam! It’s me!” he said. “It’s Killian!”
Liam raised an eyebrow. “Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”
Young Liam frowned. “Never had a brother. Never had any family save for a mother who died far too young and a worthless arse of a father who sold me into servitude.”
“But–” Killian tried again, “even without me, all of your men, all of those who sailed under Captain Liam Jones loved you. They were a family to us…to you.”
Young Liam laughed bitterly, before leaning in, his lips turned down in a scowl. “I never had any men under my command. I never had command over so much as a cabin boy. I lived a slave, and I died one, just another nameless sot who drank too much and went down in a storm.”
Liam banged two tumblers of liquor in front of his patrons. “Now, you can either drink up or get the hell out of my bar. I’ve no stomach to relive my failures.”
When the bartender had turned away to wait upon another customer who had arrived, Killian turned toward his brother. “What is he talking about?”
Liam shrugged. “Without you in my life, Killian, I was utterly rudderless, lacking in any ambition to better myself. I never escaped Silver’s command, never even tried. I died in that storm, Killian. I along with that entire ship of hopeless men.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
They consumed their beverages largely in silence after that, Killian’s unease growing the longer he thought about Liam as he would have been had things been different.
Was there any truth to what his brother said? Had Killian’s very brokenness inspired Liam to be a better man?
Taking the last sip, Killian got quickly to his feet, no longer interested in the bar or hearing any more sad tales about the bartender.
“Alright Liam,” he said to his guide, “where next?”
Liam thought for a moment before paying their tab and leading Killian out the door, the words “The Rabbit Hole” illuminated as it swung shut. “I think there’s someone else here you need to see,” he said finally.
Killian followed obediently behind his brother as they walked through the streets of town until they came to the sheriff’s station.
“Some prisoner here you wish me to see?” Killian asked as Liam opened the door and waved him inside.
“Patience, brother,” Liam said. “The purpose of our visit will soon become apparent.”
Killian looked around the office as they entered. So similar in some ways to its Storybrooke counterpart–yet so different in others. This sheriff’s office sported a myriad of medieval torture devices, and at the far wall stood none other than Rumplestiltskin’s cell itself.
It was only once he’d stepped fully inside, that he noticed the man lounging in the swivel chair behind what back home would be Emma’s desk.
“David?” he asked. “What are you doing here, mate? Shouldn’t you be helping the others?”
The man rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically before getting to his feet. “Not David. James,” he bit out. “If you’re looking for my brother, he should be back any moment once he finishes his latest utterly fruitless task of arriving at a crime scene just too late to save anyone.”
“What?” Killian asked, trying to make some sense–any sense–out of what was happening.
The man–James–smiled nastily. “Quite a clever punishment Hades devised for him, wasn’t it?” he asked. “My hero of a brother, wanting nothing more than to save his subjects and the people he loves, forced to spend an eternity down here never quite able to save anyone.”
“But…but why is Hades punishing him?”
James looked at him as though he had two heads. “Because that’s what the Lord of the Underworld does–punishes those poor, unfortunate souls who show up at his doorstep after their demise.”
Killian’s heart sank. “David’s dead?”
“You new here?” James asked. “Of course he’s dead. Only way people end up here. Now is there something you need, or are you just here to annoy me?”
“We’ll take a seat outside and wait for David’s return,” Liam said, ushering Killian to a very uncomfortable bench in the hallway.
“How? Why?” Killian asked after a moment of silence.
Rather than answer, Liam pointed toward the doorway, a little bell ringing as a very dejected David stepped through the door.
Killian noticed it immediately, the blackened veins traveling from his chest up to cover his face. “Dreamshade,” he whispered.
Liam nodded
David gave them a look as he walked past, but there was no recognition in his face at the sight of them. Too overwhelmed by what he’d just seen to think straight, Killian didn’t even attempt to call out to him.
Just before the office door closed again, Killian heard James greeting his brother. “Ah, David. Back from another unsuccessful rescue mission, I see. There’s a mountain of paperwork for you on your desk. It’s grown by a foot since you left. Should keep you nice and busy until the next crisis you can’t avert.”
“But this is wrong,” Killian said after a moment of silence. “All wrong. David should be alive. Water from the springs of Neverland saved him!”
Liam shook his head. “You weren’t there to save him, Killian,” he said quietly. “Being resourceful, Emma and her family found a way to Neverland and succeeded in saving the lad, but without you to save him, David died of his dreamshade poisoning.”
The pit in Killian’s stomach widened. Wrong, wrong! This was all wrong!
“How did the Lady Snow–not to mention Emma and Henry–handle David’s passing?” Killian asked, not entirely sure he wanted the answer.
“Again, perhaps it’s best if I show you,” Liam said.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Liam led him this time to a building with a big display out front and a sign proclaiming it to be the cinema.
“This is one of those places that projects those moving pictures Emma and Henry are so fond of, isn’t it?” he asked, after Liam purchased two tickets from a bored teenager at the ticket booth.
“Indeed,” Liam said, peering at the tickets and heading toward the theater indicated, “but as with other establishments here in the underworld, the theater serves a bit of a different purpose than it does back on earth. The theater allows Underworld residents to catch a glimpse of those they left behind when they died.”
The lights in the room dimmed, and blazoned across the huge screen in front was the single word “Storybrooke”. A moment later, the screen changed, and Killian found himself looking at the Charmings’ flat. Snow sat at the kitchen table, a full bowl of cereal and an untouched cup of coffee in front of her.
She looked terrible. Dark circles under her eyes proving she hadn’t been sleeping. Her hair hanging dull and lifeless. Her eyes–her eyes were the worst of all. They were dead, hopeless. It was a startling sight, seeing the woman usually so optimistic looking so defeated.
“Gone,” she muttered. “They’re all gone. I’ve lost everything.”
Henry took a seat beside her, his eyes troubled–not only at the sight of his grandmother, but also, it seemed, with his own grief.
“Grams, you have to eat something,” Henry said, his voice wobbling slightly. “I can’t lose you too. I can’t.”
Henry’s distress seemed to snap Snow out of her stupor, at least temporarily. She pasted a false smile on her face. “You’re right, Henry,” she said before forcing herself to take a spoonful of her cereal. “Thanks for making breakfast.”
Henry shrugged, digging into his own bowl. “It’s what family does.”
“Where is the child?” Killian asked. “Little Neal, where is he?”
“There is no baby Neal,” Liam said simply. “Killian, with David perishing on Neverland, the little lad was never conceived. Like you, he does not exist.”
Killian pulled in a quick breath, aching for Emma’s mother. She’d wanted so much to have a second child, had loved her son to distraction. Her loss was palpable–although Killian hardly knew how one could miss someone they’d never had or known.
“You see, Killian,” Liam said as the screen went to black and the house lights came up once again, “everyone’s life creates a ripple, and without that ripple, nothing is ever the same.”
Killian waited for a moment, expecting the scene to change again; there was one last person he was desperate to see.
“Liam, why didn’t the moving picture show us Emma?” he asked, somehow both needing and dreading the answer. “Where is she?”
Liam gave him a long look before blowing out a breath. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“Yes!” Killian said insistently. “Show me Emma. Show me my true love.”
“Very well,” Liam acquiesced, “but I warn you–you’re not going to like what you see.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Killian resumed his seat in the Underworld theater, steeling himself for the sight Liam assured him he would not like.
“What are you doing?” Liam asked, “didn’t you say you wanted to see Emma?”
“Aye,” Killian said slowly. “I had assumed we would once again need the moving picture machine for that. After all, if I was never born, Swan would have never come to the Underworld after me.”
Liam shook his head gently, his eyes sorrowful. “I think you need to come with me.”
Killian felt his heart drop, a sense of foreboding washing over him as the implication of Liam’s request sunk in. Surely Emma was not down here. Surely.
And yet, as Liam led him deeper and deeper into the underworld, that sense of foreboding only continued to grow. When Liam led motioned for him to enter the cave where Killian knew Hades’ most sadistic torture chamber sat, it all became too much.
“No!” he moaned, taking a step back. “She can’t be there!”
Liam placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know this is difficult, Killian, but you must see this.”
Killian wanted nothing more than to turn tail and run. If Emma was in this chamber, he couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t. “Please, brother. Please tell me this isn’t real. Please tell me she’s not here!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Liam said gently. “Come, we must hurry. For the moment Hades and his minions have let her be, but we mustn’t be caught when they return.”
For another long moment, Killian resisted, but finally, realizing Liam was right, no matter how horrific, he must know the truth, he nodded.
The first thing he noticed upon entry into the cave was the intense, overbearing heat. There was no relief, no respite. Then came the overwhelming stench of sulfur. For a moment, the darkness was so absolute, so oppressive, he couldn’t see anything, but as his eyes became accustomed to the lack of light, he noticed a single, flickering candle along the back wall–the wall where Hades had chained Killian when he was in the midst of his worst tortures.
The sight that met him would have brought him to his knees if Liam’s strong arm hadn’t been there to support him.
“No!” he shouted, the sound echoing off the cave walls.
For it was indeed Emma who was chained to the wall, her face so bruised and cut and swollen as to be almost unrecognizable. Her hair hung limp around her, damp from the sweat born of the oppressive heat and the physical trauma. Hades had stripped her of her signature red leather jacket, and Killian could see cuts and bruises all along her arms. One arm, in fact, hung at an odd angle, giving evidence of a nasty break. Her jeans were tattered and bloodied.
In short, it appeared she’d suffered every torment he had, and perhaps even more. He had to save her. Had to!
Killian rushed toward Emma, gently cradling her head and brushing a strand of hair from her face. He murmured her name and words of comfort and he eyed her restraints, trying to determine how best to loose them.
“Who the hell are you?” she asked in a voice she was obviously trying to make sound defiant. Instead, it merely sounded exhausted. Hades was so very close to breaking her, and Killian wanted to rip out his entrails and strangle him with them.
“It’s Killian,” he said. “I’m going to get you out of here love, just as you did for me. You had to know I love you too much to leave you here to suffer.”
Emma scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Just how stupid do you think I am, Hades?” she asked in a voice dripping with scorn. “You think I’m some naive, damsel-in-distress, starry-eyed teenager who’ll fall for any line a handsome stranger throws my way? Hardly. I grew up real quick on the streets and learned that love is a lie sold by greeting card companies. It’s certainly not in the cards for the Savior. So just stop with–well, with whatever you’re trying to do. Get back to the torture or leave me the hell alone.
“Swan–” Killian started, before he was interrupted by a noise in the corridor.
“Killian, we’ve got to go,” Liam said, grabbing at his arm. “Someone’s coming and we can’t be caught here.”
Killian pulled his arm free and tried to hack at the chains holding Emma. They wouldn’t budge.
“It’s useless, brother,” Liam insisted, grabbing at him again. “The chains of hell cannot be broken. We’ve got to go. Now!”
It went against everything inside of him to leave Emma there, leave her to Hades’ devices, but Liam was right. There was no way to free her. Finally he nodded, following his brother out of the cave and through the streets of town until they reached what was once Underbrooke’s version of Emma’s house. It was different now, fallen into complete disrepair–windows broken, wood rotted, cobwebs hanging from every surface.
This house was the physical manifestation of everything he was feeling now. Everything, everything was crumbling in around him.
“Why?” Killian moaned in anguish, falling to his knees. “Why is she here? She shouldn’t be here! I should!”
“You don’t exist,” Liam reminded him, getting to his knees and placing a comforting arm on his shoulders. “She couldn’t make you a co-Dark One. You weren’t there to take all the darkness on yourself and sacrifice yourself to end it. Emma had to do that herself.”
“No!” Killian moaned again.
“And I think you know why Hades is making her torture so much worse than anyone else’s if you truly think about it,” Liam continued.
“She’s the savior,” Killian said, his voice breaking. “She defeated Hades in a way no one else ever could.”
Liam nodded. “She did,” he agreed, “and she did so because she is good and valiant, but she is also broken. Without you, she never again found love. She was never able to allow her heart to heal and her walls to come down. She was a light to all around her, but she was never blessed with that light for herself.”
And suddenly it all began to make sense. In his long life, Killian had done many terrible things, but he’d also had a positive impact on others. His life had mattered, and its absence left a tremendous hole.
“We are none of us fully good nor fully evil,” Liam continued, as though reading Killian’s thoughts, “but every one of us is important and necessary to so many people. Our impact is something we may never know, but it is vital, and when one of us is missing from the fabric of time–the resulting tear leaves the garment irreparably harmed.”
The tears began to flow, and Killian let them, making no attempt to stop them or wipe them away. He wanted to fix this. He needed to fix this.
“Please brother,” he said through his tears, “help me. I want to live again!”
Liam smiled. “Done!”
~*~*~*~*~*~
There was no flash of lighting, no crack of thunder this time. Nothing earth shattering happened. One moment they were in the broken-down shell of the Underbrooke version of Emma’s house, and the next they were back in the cave where this whole thing had started. Even so, Killian knew it had worked; he could feel it. All was back to the way it should have been–well, as close as anything could come in this terrible place. His life was restored to the fabric of time. Joy bubbled up.
As Killian’s eyes adjusted to the dim light of the cavern, he noticed the dinghy docked to the cliff, the peaceful waters in which it bobbed, the pleasant port in the distance that was to be Liam’s eternal reward, and a touch of bittersweetness mixed in with his joy. No doubt the time of parting with his brother was almost upon him.
“Not quite yet, brother,” Liam said, once again reading his thoughts. “This vessel will be waiting for me in due course, but it’s Christmas Eve. I can see nothing wrong with celebrating this one last holiday with my brother and the family he’s amassed for himself.”
Killian’s smile widened. “You’d put off paradise for me?”
“Of course,” Liam said. “Haven’t you learned by now I’d do anything for you? You, little brother, are worth it.”
Killian wrapped his arms around his brother, feeling the tears rush to his eyes once again. He’d always known his brother’s first statement was true, but now, maybe for the first time in his life, he was beginning to believe the truth of the second as well.
After a long moment, Killian stepped back, clearing his throat. “Younger brother,” he corrected gruffly.
Liam laughed. “And, if I don’t miss my mark, there’s someone else out there who would also do anything for you; who also believes you’re worth it. Perhaps it’s time you go to her.”
Emma’s beloved face came to mind, and a rush of love and longing filled him. He’d left her on a rather bad note, his self-loathing pushing her away. He wanted–needed–to make things right, to let her know how very much he appreciated her coming here to save him.
“Will you not come with me, Liam?” he asked.
Liam chuckled. “I rather think your reunion is something I don’t need to be privy to. I’ll return to the loft, spend some time with your Emma’s son. Perhaps we can plan and start preparations for our Noel celebrations. You and your love can meet me there.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Killian rushed back to Swan’s Underbrooke house, his heart leaping to see it whole and reasonably intact, as opposed to the broken down hull he’d seen last. It was further proof that all was back as it should be.
He found Emma standing in the drawing room looking confused and slightly out of sorts.
“Hook!” she said, as he rushed toward her. “Where the hell have you been? First you and Liam left, and then Henry ran off…somewhere.”
There was so much he wanted to do, so much he wanted to tell her, but he started by simply giving her a long hug, which she returned warmly.
When he pulled back enough to see her face, it was obvious his gesture, while not unwelcome, had certainly done nothing to banish her confusion.
“I’m sorry, Emma,” he said finally. “You were right about Liam. He destroyed those pages because of a deal he made with Hades years ago, a deal that almost got us thrown into that boiling sea.”
Her eyes widened and her grip tightened on his arms. “Are you okay? Where is he?”
“He, uh, sacrificed himself,” he said, struggling to find the words to tell her what had happened to him–to both of them–over the last few hours. “But his sacrifice helped a crew we once sailed with. They finally moved on thanks to him.”
Her alarm grew. “Did he move on too?”
Killian shook his head. “Not yet. A boat is waiting to usher him on when he is ready, but he wishes to spend Christmas with us first–it is, after all, Christmas Eve.”
He didn’t miss the slight look of unease in her eyes, which she quickly masked. “That’s–that’s good,” she said, a bit too cheerfully.
“He was wrong about you, Swan,” Killian said, “and he knows it. I think one reason he wished to remain was to have an opportunity to apologize to you and make amends.”
Her smile became far more genuine. “There’s no need, Killian. He was just trying to protect you. I get that.”
“Nevertheless,” Killian said, “I need no protection from you, and now he knows that.”
They were silent for a moment, merely enjoying the quiet and peace of each other’s company. Finally Emma looked around. “So if he didn’t move on, where is he? Didn’t he come back here with you?”
Killian grinned. “He returned to your parents’ flat, hoping to conspire with the lad to make our Christmas one to remember–at least as far as is possible in this hellish place.”
They shared a smile, but then Killian grew serious, looking at her with intensity. This was important; he needed her to hear him. “But he helped me to see the truth before he went. I’m glad you came down here, Emma. Perhaps I do deserve saving after all.”
She lit up, her face showing a joy he hadn’t seen since he’d gotten down here. “Does that mean when this is all over, you’re planning to come home?”
When this is all over. It was a stark reminder that there were still substantial obstacles they must face before they could return to their white picket fence life, but face them they would. He was sure of it. Not only would they face them, they would win, and their happiness afterwards would be all the sweeter from the struggle they had to endure to get there.
“Yes,” he answered definitively. “Everything Liam did was to ensure that I had a future, and I damn well intend to have one.”
With that, he swooped in for a long passionate kiss, the likes of which he’d dreamed about ever since this ordeal began.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Storybrooke, Present Day
Killian toyed with the ends of Emma’s hair as her head lay on his shoulder.
“And then we returned to your parents’ flat–or what passed for it in that bloody place–to find Henry and Liam had made a valiant attempt at decorating for the festive occasion.”
Emma chuckled. “I remember. The only tree they could find made Charlie Brown’s look amazing.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Killian said with his own chuckle, “but I catch the gist. It was quite pitiful. Its sad state only rivaled by the wilted poinsettias and the crumbling mistletoe.”
“Oh I don’t know,” Emma said, “I think the mistletoe still worked perfectly well, if the exaggerated eyerolls from Henry when we made use of it were any indication.”
He chuckled again. “And all your mother could find to prepare for our Christmas feast was grilled cheese on stale bread and PopTarts for dessert.”
“I’ll admit it wasn’t the greatest grilled cheese I’ve ever had, and unfrosted brown sugar cinnamon PopTarts are just wrong,” Emma said, “but I’ve gotta say, I kind of liked the menu.”
Killian shot her a disgusted look with a muttered “bloody hell”. She collapsed against him as she laughed.
“However,” Killian said after a moment, returning to the subject at hand. “It was a pleasant evening filled with joy and laughter. The two people I love the most in this or any world together and reconciled, your family–our family–together to support us. It was the very essence of what makes Christmas magical.”
Emma sat up to look at him and there was sadness in her eyes. “But the next evening we had to say goodbye to Liam for good.”
Killian sighed. “It was a bittersweet moment to be sure,” he agreed, “but I got a proper farewell this time, something I was denied when he died in my arms all those centuries ago, and I know he’s in a better place–I saw it for myself. One day we’ll be together again.”
She gave him a stern look. “That day better be decades and decades away.”
He grinned before leaning down to kiss her. “Fear not, Swan. Have I not proven that I’m a survivor? Even death couldn’t hold me forever. At any rate, though we were in an awful place and the decorations and provisions were less than ideal, that was a Christmas that I will always hold in my heart, because I got a second chance, and it’s been sweeter than anything I could imagine.”
They were silent for a moment, and then he heard a small sniff beside him. He leaned over to see tears in Swan’s eyes. “Love, whatever is the matter?”
“I had no idea, Killian,” she said after a moment, “no idea you went through all that. You never told me about the visions Liam showed you.”
He shrugged. “There never seemed to be time; we were always moving from one crisis to the next, and I didn’t want to upset you with my own internal crises.”
She sat up again, looking into his eyes. “Killian, we’re true love, husband and wife,” she said, “We should help each other through our crises. Don’t ever feel like you have to keep anything from me because I might find it upsetting.”
He smiled tenderly at her, cupping her cheek and letting his thumb caress her face. “Nor you with me, my love.”
She nodded. “And for the record, Killian, you have nothing left to prove. You are a good man, and all of us are better off for having you in our lives. Don’t ever doubt that.
12 Days of Captain Swan Reruns--Day 8: Deck the Halls…or Maybe the Neighbor
Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t! One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia. A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns. So here you go! I’ve paired down my rerun posting schedule for this year (mostly because the holidays snuck up on me this year!), so I will have 1 story/day up until Christmas Eve, and then a New Year’s rerun posting New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Did I leave off one of your favorites? Check out my full gamut of Christmas fics [here]
Word Count: 2099
Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list):
Notes: This story was written for my “Christmas with Captain Swan” collection in 2020.
CS Genre: Enemies to Lovers AU
She was going to kill him. She was going to drive a stake of holly through his heart or strangle him with a strand of Christmas lights or…well, some other holiday themed method of homicide.
Emma worked hard all day chasing down the scum of the earth and hauling their worthless asses back to jail where they belonged. Was it really too much to ask that she have a little peace and quiet downtime to relax once she got home.
According to the idiot who lived in the apartment directly above hers, apparently so. Every damn day since Thanksgiving he’d blared his Christmas music loud enough to wake the ghost of Christmas past. Sometimes he even enthusiastically belted along with it. (She had to admit his voice wasn’t half bad, but that was entirely beside the point.)
Emma hissed as she dabbed at the cut beside her eye where tonight’s skip had clocked her. She’d gotten him in the end; Emma Swan always got her man, but now that the adrenaline of the chase was over, her cuts and bruises and sore muscles were screaming at her.
And the guy in the apartment above had just started singing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” at the top of his lungs.
Emma growled, tossing the bloody cotton ball into her bathroom trash and getting to her feet. Enough was enough. This stopped now. He could take his merry little Christmas and shove it up his south pole.
Two minutes later, she stood before his apartment. Pounding on the door felt extremely satisfying if she did say so herself.
The music suddenly stopped, and a moment later the door opened, and for the first time Emma got a glimpse of the man who’d been the bane of her existence for the past two weeks.
Her jaw dropped. He was drop dead gorgeous, melt-an-entire-population-of-snowmen hot.
“Well hello, there, Love,” he said with an appreciative grin-and in an accent that had her toes curling in her boots. “How can I help you?”
Emma’s stomach swooped and her heart stuttered and then started racing. She blinked and the spell was broken. She wasn’t some teenager who drooled over hot guys. Especially hot guys that she’d been seriously contemplating murdering five minutes ago.
“If you don’t stop with the Christmas crap, I’m going to punch your stupid, festive face,” she gritted out.
His eyebrows raised. “Pardon?”
“Your music!” she said. “Every freaking day, every time I get home you’re blaring the Christmas music, and it got old about five minutes after you started. I don’t think it’s too much to ask that I have a little peace and quiet in my own home.”
He huffed a breath. “Darling, I had no idea anyone was even in the building in the middle of the afternoon. Did it ever occur to you to come to me and ask me to turn down my music?”
She had to admit he had a point there. Maybe yelling at him and threatening bodily harm wasn’t the best opening salvo, but it had been a long day, and she was in pain, and she wasn’t in the mood to be reasonable.
“Look, just turn it down,” she said, crossing her arms and glaring at him.
“Your wish is my command,” he said with biting sarcasm, sketching a mock bow. “Now is there anything else you wish to yell at me about or may I get back to my tasks at hand?”
“Nope. That’s all,” she said.
“Good,” he said and then tacked on a biting “Merry Christmas” before shutting the door in her face.
The next morning, Emma was rather embarrassed about her interaction with Hot Christmas Guy upstairs, as she’d been calling him in her mind. She’d had a frustrating day–the skip she’d gone after had left his wife and kids just before Christmas, taking every penny of their Christmas fund.
It hit too close to home for a girl who had grown up with no family, with no one. Hard to get into the warm and fuzzy Christmas spirit when no one gave a crap about you.
She’d been too harsh with Hot Christmas Guy, but at least the results were in her favor. He’d been as good as his word, and if he’d continued playing his Christmas music, he’d done it at a low enough volume that she didn’t even hear it.
Emma had only just begun to think she should go upstairs and apologize, when suddenly there was a knock at her door.
She opened the door to find the man himself, standing there holding a large plate of cookies. Her stomach not only swooped this time; it did cartwheels. The guy looked even better in the bright light of morning with his slightly disheveled black hair, his reddish scruff, his blue button down that highlighted his even bluer eyes and his black leather jacket.
“I’m afraid we came to rather a bad start, yesterday,” he said. “Perhaps we might start again, Aye? My name is Killian Jones, and I’d like to offer you these Christmas cookies as a token of my apology for the excessive volume of my music.”
Emma took a step back and gestured for him to enter her apartment. “Hey, I’m Emma Swan, and no apology is necessary. In fact, I kind of think I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have just come out swinging like that.”
He smiled at her, the fine lines around his (beautiful) eyes crinkling with the gesture. “Apology accepted Love. I’ll leave you to your morning.”
He turned to leave, but suddenly, Emma didn’t want him to go. “Killian, wait!” she said.
Obediently he stopped, eyebrows raised in question.
“Would you like to stay and help me eat these cookies?”
He shot her a skeptical look. “Dessert at nine in the morning?”
She shrugged. “Can’t be much more unhealthy than my normal blueberry PopTart.”
Killian laughed then, taking a step back inside. “Do you at least have milk to wash them down with?”
“Of course.”
Killian ended up staying for two hours, and it amazed Emma how quickly they fell into conversation. It was like they were old friends catching up rather than relative strangers. Emma learned that Killian was a novelist. His music helped him with the creative process, jump started his creativity as it were.
The conversation had then turned to the upcoming holiday.
“Swan, do you not celebrate Christmas?” he’d asked, looking around her apartment.
She shrugged. “I mean, I guess I do. I’m not, like, opposed to Christmas or anything. Why?”
“I can’t help but notice you have no tree, no decorations of any kind, and your opposition to the music of the season is well established,” he said.
Emma looked around her neat but rather sterile apartment and shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess I just didn’t see the point of going to all that trouble. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to have any presents under the tree or anyone to share the holiday with.”
She had expected him to look at her with pity at her admission of just how alone she was, but instead, the look on his face was knowing, understanding. “The holidays are difficult when you’re alone, aren’t they?”
That surprised her. Was he speaking from personal experience?
“Aye love,” he said, answering her unasked question, “I suspect we have more in common than you might have supposed. Ever since my brother passed a decade ago, I’ve been on my own. The holidays always bring with them a special kind of melancholy.”
“But…” she began, “but you play Christmas music. From the glimpse I got of your apartment yesterday, you have all the decorations and trappings. Doesn’t that make the loneliness worse?”
He shook his head. “It helps me to remember the good memories, and there are always good memories if you dig deep enough.”
The conversation stuck with her long after she and Killian had said goodbye and gone their separate ways. Maybe…maybe he was right. Maybe if she let a little Christmas cheer into her life, it would help, even in a small part, to soothe the pain of a lifetime of loneliness.
The next morning, bright and early, there was a knock on Emma’s door. This time she smiled as she went to the door, knowing instinctively that she’d find Killian on the other side.
What she wasn’t expecting was the large, beautiful, fragrant pine tree he was holding in front of him.
“What’s this?” she asked, opening the door wider so that he could awkwardly maneuver himself and the tree inside.
“This, Swan,” he said with a teasing grin, “is called a Christmas tree. Traditionally people set them up in their houses this time of year and decorate them with lights and colorful baubles.”
She grinned, rolling her eyes at him and playfully swatting his shoulder. “I know what it is, smart ass. I’m wondering why you brought it here.”
He propped the tree against the door, and then reached up to scratch at the spot behind his ear. “I got to thinking after our conversation yesterday. I wanted to bring you some of the Christmas joy that has helped me through the season for years. I hope I’ve not overstepped by bringing this.”
Emma smiled gently, stepping up to place a hand on his arm. “This is really sweet, Killian,” she said. “Thanks.”
“It was my pleasure,” he said, stepping outside to gather the boxes of lights, ornaments and tinsel he had waiting for him. “If you’ve the time and inclination, I thought perhaps we could decorate your apartment together.”
She took one of the boxes from him and set it on her living room floor. “As it turns out, I have the day off, and decorating a tree sounds like the perfect way to pass the time. If you play your cards right, I might even let you play some Christmas music while we work.”
They’d spent the entire day together, first decorating her tree, then splitting a pizza from the place down the street, talking, laughing, and genuinely enjoying each other’s company.
The next day he was back, and the day after that she went to his apartment. Barely a day went by that they didn’t see each other. Each day brought a new holiday themed activity.
For the first time she could remember, Emma felt the magic of Christmas. For the first time she woke up looking forward to what the day might bring–and it was all due to Killian Jones. It should scare her how comfortable she felt with him. It should scare her how much she was coming to look forward to their time together, to their daily phone calls and text conversations.
But somehow it didn’t. She could read people; it’s what made her so good at her job. And Killian? She read him loud and clear. He was the real deal. She could trust him.
And so it was that when the idea occurred to her she didn’t let herself think too hard, merely acted.
“So I was thinking,” she said, turning toward him on the couch where they sat together watching Christmas movies on Christmas eve.
“Dangerous prospect, love,” he said with a teasing grin. She smacked his shoulder.
“I think that we should spend Christmas together,” she said.
This shouldn’t be that big of a deal–after all, they’d spent the last two weeks together–but somehow it was. Somehow spending Christmas together felt huge. Like this-could-be-the-start-of-something-life-changing huge.
Killian’s eyes widened. He clearly understood how momentous this question really was. After a moment, his look of surprise softened into a gentle smile, and he reached up and cupped her cheek. “Emma, I’d like nothing better than to spend Christmas with you.”
The relief, the joy that came over her at his answer overwhelmed her, and so she did the only thing that seemed to make sense in the moment. She leaned forward and kissed him.
On Christmas, they made plans to spend New Years together, and on New Years, they made plans for Valentine’s Day.
And on the following Christmas, Killian got down on one knee and asked her to make plans with him for the rest of their lives.
It seemed only fitting that for their wedding several months later, they play Christmas music. After all, without the sounds of the season, the beautiful, perfect life they’d built for themselves may never have begun.
