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mariamariquinha · 6 months

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Bossa Nova (Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x f!reader) - Nine

Eight

Summary: The LASD couldn't sustain its reputation as an honest police officer if it tried hard. In that case, no one tried.

Word count: 9.1k

Warnings: Bad words, talks about corruption, talks about sexism and racism, mentions of oral sex, mention of drug crimes, violence and other things related, strip clubs, sex workers, use of weed and... did I say sexism?

Author’s Note: I think this got a lot more personal than I thought, so I'm sorry if anyone has family members within the LASD who aren't corrupt - this isn't about them. This chapter doesn't have much romance, I'll warn you right away, but it's an important progression in the main characters' relationship. Give it a try!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Join my taglist! Don’t forget to reblog, comment and like! As always, I would love to know what you’re all thinking! ❤

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You were in the business a little while ago; a few years, nothing that still didn't stop you from getting suspicious looks or incessant questions to make sure your work was well done. Emma, at least, who was the one who mattered at the moment, trusted your instincts and your ability; at best, she said you had good directions.

At worst, that you were very witty. The moment she called you into her office, you were sure this was the version of you she was hoping to meet.

“What did you do over the weekend?”

On Saturday, after finishing the initial report on the Ballard case, you realized you'd only slept for 4 hours when your brother made a ridiculous phone call to a tennis match with probably very wealthy friends. You went. After a scraped knee and sore thighs, you found that it was enough for his office to get a big case of something you didn't pay attention to. Then you enjoyed what felt like an uncomfortable sea spray from your air conditioner, which ended up going out for good and you had to walk in shame to Target to buy a fan. You had seen what looked like a seepage in your bathroom while you were brushing your teeth and that was the last clear vision in your memory of how your weekend went.

But maybe that wasn't what she wanted to know - no, it certainly wasn't that. And you treated the situation as such: deliberate disinterest to speculate.

“... Nothing special.” You shrugged, averting her gaze since she wasn’t even giving you the satisfaction of looking at your face. From the time being, Emma was always busy. You being there didn’t make sense.

“Not making good use of the day offs?”

“My phone keeps on like I'm with the President himself,” Your tone wasn’t soft, nor polite. That grabbed her attention, enough to turn her eyes to you over her glasses, eyebrows raised. “Occupational hazard.”

“Mm.”

And she went back to her computer, typing and clicking and watching the screen as if you weren’t there. That made you scoff. Irrationally, you felt a twinge of disappointment and frustration with her.

“I won't tell you about what happened.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Thinking of ordering?”

“When you haven't used your authority for a long time, it becomes rusty. It's never a good idea in this line of work. Learned that from my mentor when I started.”

“And of course you thought you'd start this with me.”

“You are my main concern right now,” Emma made a scene to turn to you again, impatient and bothered by your behavior. “At first I thought you were fraternizing with the enemy too much, but then I'm pretty sure I lost you along the way. I don’t like this.”

In fact, you had gotten relatively invasive as the case progressed. Nick was never easy, that was a fact, nothing surprising or expected. The recent developments with Isla had left you in a position of naivete, as if you were as new to the business as an intern, deluded by TV advertisements and oblivious to what was really going on in the Department. If you got there and said everything, Emma would take you off the case. Maybe O'Brien even hinted at it, which could have led to that conversation, but the truth was that far from it or not, they both seemed to have a hard-on putting you in situations where they treated you like an avatar of personal control.

You noticed that your reports were right there on her desk - that she read them. Still, you shifted in your chair uncomfortably and looked away again, a grim expression crossing your face as you heard her sigh.

“You should have taken the days off I told you to.” The comment grabbed your attention after a beat of silence.

No, don’t you dare-

“... I'll pretend you're not implying what I think you are.”

“It happens, you know? Maybe we did you wrong for not bringing the subject up for so long.”

“Don’t bring Theodore into this.”

“I’m trying to understand what’s happening!”

“What's going on is you've got a fucking cop on the verge of corruption taking the pomp and shitting rules around here,” You snapped, your voice quick and full of venom as you leaned in to make yourself heard. “What's happening is there's a girl who almost died because she was helping Nick and now she has a huge target on her back. The biggest problem is that these things happen around here as if they were routine and when a fucking person gets shot in the face, you have the indecency to call it a side effect when everything was nothing but irresponsibility.”

There were things in your life that were untouchable, things that Theodore had done or that circumstances had only presented - things cruel or subtle, but things either way. That was from your father's side, people said, of being reactive to the unfair. He's always been on that part of the spectrum, even if the cops with questionable ethics and ambiguous behavior were in his basement collections.

You had chosen that career for the sake of the right thing and your cynicism carried you far enough to pass certain contexts in silence. Emma never got it out of your mouth that you knew what Nick and the guys did at the weekend parties or how the cocaine bust counts never rallied because someone ended up taking some for themselves. That even happened in the DEA as far as you knew. And you let all that go, because in the end that would be your job and there would always be a smaller percentage of subversion than of solution. O'Brien still caught the bad guys. Circumstantially, Mathias too. But one of the two always had a bit of powder in their nostrils or their cock inside an addicted whore.

“Don't tell me it's the job. I’m aware.” Emma shut her mouth as soon as you said that, one hand raised to stop her. “But you and him make it all seem like a game of who's going to budge some kind of boundary you set. I’m not obligated to go through this.”

“What do you want me to do?”

The sigh that left your mouth was tired, suffocating.

“Stick to my reports if you can. And if you're taking suggestions, don't try to be my friend. You're not very good at this.”

When you got up to leave the room, Emma didn't stop you, but you didn't have any sense that you were winning anything. There was no relief. Your face was hot and your steps erratic.

Certain reputations had to come from somewhere, after all.

-------------------------

“My husband was a member of the group.”

Isla had a calm voice despite the context in which she was inserted. There were no handcuffs on her wrists or a guard inside the room; everything was done very smoothly. There was, however, a palpable tension in the air, as if a black cloud of violence or distortion hung within that interrogation room.

Really, you shouldn't even be there, watching. Henderson was sitting to one side as he watched through the glass the conversation Zapata and Gina were having with the woman, and that should be enough for them. Even so, it was Gina who suggested that you participate indirectly, presumably to find out details about the photography issue as she had a curious background in the business. She was good, you could tell. Depressed too.

According to the file, Isla was of Albanian origin. The parents were immigrants and ran a small textile business in Coney Island, but they weren’t anything but a fast topic of conversation. The features of her face, such as the more rounded nose and the full face, were half erased by the bruises. One eye was swollen with purple and yellow hues, her jaw was bruised and her lips were dry. One of her arms had been broken, as well as the shoulder on the same side had also been dislocated. You didn't see her coming, but you guessed that she walked with difficulty because of the wound in her left calf. It was the only shot she took, grazed but painful.

Looking at it that way, she didn't look so much like Debbie. Maybe their comparison was in the look: the two seemed equally taken by a feeling that hovered only in Nick. One that you didn't know what it was and that maybe nobody could put their finger on.

She spoke of everything. Kosovo, her relationship with a man named Oliver Clark, her marriage and children - Selim, with 5, and Dafina, with 9.

You just noticed that Nick entered the room when you smelled his cologne. Bad smell, as always, enough to break any serious moment with that fragrance. You couldn’t help but make a face, pinching your nostrils once and clearing your throat. He ignored you, of course. Benny appeared right behind him with two cups of coffee - you two shared a brief look.

“We have the search warrant,” He said to everyone in the room, eyeing the scene in front of you with a stern face. “I also got WPP.”

A little late for that, you thought but decided not to say anything.

“Anything important?” Took you time to understand that the question was directed to you. When the silence became too much, you turned to him and saw everyone staring.

“... Nothing I didn't already imagine. I'll have better luck when I have the equipment,” You leaned over the table, just a touch, and read the notes you’d taken. “Leica M6 35mm, Pentax K1000 and… Nikon 35 Ti. Analog. This Leica is a rarity, I think it was the one she used for her first Homicide case.”

“Couldn't it have been someone else?” Henderson asked.

“Is that just a stupid question or do you want to make sure we've tested all options?”

“Both. So?” Nick pressed, arms crossed and nothing but harshness on his tone.

You observed him for a beat, considered your chances there.

“... The Leica is from the beginning of the last century, like, the 30's to the 50's. At least this model she said she has. In addition to being rare, not everyone nowadays can handle it because the resources are basically mechanical. It would be an absurd coincidence, which is not quite the case.”

“We've dealt with coincidences before.”

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

O’Brien didn’t answer. You rolled your eyes, going back to the notes before giving Isla another look.

“How long has she been doing this?” The question was kind of thrown up in the air, as no one dared to answer. You glared at them, specifically at Nick, who huffed in annoyance before saying something.

“One year.”

“And the case landed in your lap…” You said. “It seems that you really work with coincidences.”

Again, no answer. Feeling like you couldn't get from point A to B with anyone there, you jotted down some more information on paper and stretched your back, rolling your shoulders.

“It will be manual stuff then. They’ll have to look at each negative.”

“If it can be done then I don't see a problem.”

“Of course not,” You conceded, voice contained to prevent any progression there. It was like swallowing a fucking lamp.

Everyone was quiet when they heard Isla speak again, attentive as they watched every detail of the story that should no longer be news to Nick's ears. You were so concentrated that the noises of chairs dragging on the floor didn't even call your attention. Someone said something, the door opened and closed, and suddenly there was a cup of coffee right next to you.

Benny tapped the lid twice.

“Decaf,” He mouthed discreetly, just for you to understand, before retrieving his proximity and leaving the room.

-------------------------

Benny didn't have a very organized routine, but he could count how many times he thought about you after that shitty lunch: two.

1. That coffee wasn't for you, but he thought of you when he noticed that the Starbucks server had made the wrong order. It was kind of spontaneous. Suddenly you were there, at the front of his mind, like you were hovering around and ready to just emerge. He put it there, left the cup as if saying ‘you can have it if you want, but if you don’t it’s fine’. No one brought the subject up.

2. Nick had gone to the store to meet an informant and someone, probably Connors, saw a familiar figure at the register when they entered. Benny knew it was Murph who commented, but he saw Zapata turn his head to look at the guy.

“Do you know who he is?”

“Who?” Benny frowned, unaware of the commotion. He turned his head, saw the dude standing there staring at his phone - like a normal person.

“This is Theodore Park, our trouble girl's ex.”

There was only one person Connors called 'problem girl' and it wasn't usually the kind of comment that came from beyond the grave. However he recognized the guy, whether it was a run-in at office parties that Benny barely attended or some private investigation that bordered on a stalker personality from Murph’s part, it seemed to be true. When Magalon looked back again, Theodore Park was gone.

The second time, then, he discovered who your ex-husband was while listening to what seemed like irrelevant information to the investigation. In the midst of Nick's reticence and failures, Theodore Park was the object of his interest.

He was tall; compared to the 5'7 that Benny was. Maybe 6'2, compared to O'Brien. There were some university articles about him (three paragraphs at Berkeley, two large PDFs at CSULB that he didn't read, and good references at Caltech) and he seemed successful with an information systems company or something. Benny could never speak properly about these things because he was never interested; as long as he had a phone that worked, he knew how to use the most intuitive social media and that was it. But not Theodore, no. The guy was a successful man indeed in that aspect, indeed. A rich guy on the way. Without much effort, Benny would see this dude doing TED Talks and making Forbes in a few years.

Which had nothing to do with him, or what seemed like your type of guy. If Theodore was on one side of the spectrum, Benny was on the other in every way.

Well, that was distracting. Still, Magalon didn't do much with this information. There wasn't much he could do with it anyway.

It was only later - days later - when they had agreed to go to a 'club' to 'decompress', that he found himself thinking about you for the third time.

Earlier that day, he saw you talking to Lennon over what seemed like conventional pleasantries between friends. You were wearing jeans, both hands in your back pockets as you paid attention to something that was being said. Your usual lab coat was gone, probably because Benny could clearly see that your shirt was tighter, had a wider bust and the position of your arms gave a subtle view of your breasts. Nothing indiscreet, because you weren't indiscreet. That outfit, however, made Benny have a sudden indiscreet thought, and it stayed in his head all day.

He hadn't looked for you anymore - he hadn't had the chance to do that. Things escalated and suddenly there he was talking about how similar he was to Nick, pushing you away with the worst of comparisons. You didn't even react, which he understood as full acceptance of the fact that he was an asshole, as if that was the one thing that Benny and a technology nerd like Theodore had in common: being a scoundrel. You treated him as always, even though what had already happened between you should have been enough for that 'always' to change.

The girl standing next to him was called Lindsay. She sat down, started a conversation; they talked very little. Lindsay was wasted, not even bothering to clean the traces of cocaine from her lips or the way her eyes were dark; Benny asked if she wanted to go home and another friend, named Tracy (or Tara), who was visibly lucid, said she would take her. He paid for the taxi, made sure they got into the car safely, and discreetly showed the driver his badge. Like any other night.

He watched the taxi disappear down the street, then, on the other side, the movement of cars on that side of the city. It was late summer and the breeze of the change of season was a sure sign of the arrival of autumn, so he felt the wind hit his face.

Benny didn't go back up to the hotel room with the guys. He handed the parking pass to the usual guy, got in the car and headed home.

No, not like any other night. That time, Benny felt another wave of what someone once said was a ‘midlife crisis’.

-------------------------

You weren't a fan of bathtubs. Well, you had one, but it was that kind of thing... borrowed into your life, shoved down your throat because it wasn't so bad after all. Just like the coffee table. And the kitchen window. And the kind of lamp that lasted so little but, look, it was chic. So like all things, which seemed to be the biggest provocation that accompanied a 'gift' from a big son of a bitch, or a reminder of how there was a sense of ease in making your life miserable, you enjoyed it.

Something like that.

You had plans to get rid of each of these things soon, because all in all, the financial part of your life was also… complicated. A visit to the bank, a mortgage proposal, expenses for the large yard and the last remnants of your student fund. You looked through apartment websites for sale and just that idea left you incredibly depressed because, on top of everything else, you were a crybaby who lost the comfort of a husband who paid most of the household bills. And not to mention the job, because… damn, the fucking job. It had been days since you closed your eyes and saw Nick, Isla, Emma, Ballard, Mathias; what kind of fucking burnout was that?

So that night, when your heels were swollen and your back was sore, you allowed yourself a few minutes of privilege. Bath salts, then the heat of refreshing water and, among other things you haven't done in a long time, you felt a little sorry for yourself.

Connors had posted a photo with the guys on Instagram - you saw it by chance, one hand resting your head on the edge of the bathtub and the other scrolling through your phone. ‘bday party w/ the fella 🔥🔥🔥’, with Benny below his arm in what looked like a half drunk pose, in what also looked like a strip club in the background. You stared at it for a moment. Then another. Then another. There were easy smiles, joyfulness, even happiness; like it was just a standard day, as if the world was okay as soon as the first beer landed on their tables.

There was never a question with them, a doubt. It was as if, arbitrarily, the main characteristic of a cop wasn’t useful for them to become the ideal professionals that everyone thought they were. There is no need for moral duty, responsibility and care, as proof that the world, in itself, was also not moral, responsible and careful.

That was it. It was this pain, this itch, that disturbed you, because you knew that no questions were directed at Theodore when things ended. He, above the law, with money in his pocket and a successful career ahead of him, didn’t receive any dirty looks for having cheated on his own wife, who in turn would, in fact, receive condescending comments, pats on the shoulder of comfort and an unfair response from a boss, who attributed your problems to the great evil of having lost an idiot husband. That was what you always hated the most.

You abandoned the phone at the closed toilet seat.

“Alexa, turn up the music!” You said after a moment, listening to ‘Life on Mars’ in full volume and with your eyes closed.

-------------------------

The first sip of coffee was distracted. When the taste hit your tongue, you immediately grimaced and threw the drink back into the cup, staring at the totally undrinkable dark thing.

Great. No good coffee as well.

You wiped the corners of your mouth with your fingers and left the cup on the table, a little unsure whether you should throw it away or not. Just… Ugh. You threw it in the trash can, massaging your eyes with the heels of your hands before taking a long breath.

The break room was naturally busy in the morning, with people on double shifts taking a break and those who were arriving, like you, in and out of the tiredness of the end of the day with the beginning of another. Everyone was chatting amongst themselves, exchanging details about cases they were working on or the new bar that had opened nearby, so it was a bit strange that as soon as you rolled your shoulders to ease the tension, everyone turned their attention to a Lennon out of breath who entered the room with an urgent voice.

“Did you know?” That's all he said, then turning on the TV and stopping in the middle of the tables to pay attention. You, who were further in front and close to the coffee machine, had to lift your head a little more to understand what was happening.

“Recognized for the successful work carried out on the Merrimen case, Los Angeles County Major Crimes, coincidentally on the day of the closure of one of the most intense operations carried out in the city and credited in its name, hands over the most recent drug trafficking case to the Drug Enforcement Administration, the DEA…”

You could hear some gasps from your colleagues, murmurs and shushings, so that they remained quiet and could listen carefully to what was there as if it wasn't obvious. After that, you just stared at the screen in disbelief, your brow furrowed and your hands outstretched at your sides. When they cut to the scene of the press conference in the building's press room, which appeared to have taken place not long before you arrived, you could only see Nick standing next to the sheriff, Walsh's team, and Mathias himself at the lectern making the announcement.

Mathias's voice was a background sound, almost like an irritating noise in the silence of that room that seemed huge. No commotion, no direct press releases, just a 'peaceful transition' (Walsh's words) to 'a more prepared and complete team' (also Walsh’s words), which indirectly could mean more than cutting spending by the County government but rather a nudge coward of someone who didn't have the balls to chest someone basically… male.

You felt a little bad about that.

But, heavens, everyone thought that. And when Gina, of all those present, said mid Walsh's phony speech right after he highlighted the inefficiency of the forensic team (a part you only realized when he used the terms 'difficulty communicating with experts' and 'inadequacy expert with the magnitude of the case'), you blinked and saw her standing for herself, arms crossed and ready to fight.

“Yeah, but you're not in front of the fucking San Francisco Chronicle, Walsh. For someone who always speaks your mind, you're putting on a bad act.” She said to the TV.

Look, the system was a curious thing, clearly presumptuous and obviously selective. It has always been like this, world to be world, human beings to be human beings. And perhaps that was what generated discontent that soon disguised itself as responsibilities and survival, at least on the part of people like you, Gina and Emma, in the sense of gender, and in Henderson or Lennon in the sense of race, for example. It was like a constant obstacle, often exposed like a ghost that could lie dormant until it struck again.

No one there got caught up in it because they didn't have time, but everyone recognized the mechanisms and adapted to them. Neither you nor Gina whined much when the sheriff organized annual running competitions and didn't stay to reward the winning women; from what little you knew of Henderson, you didn't see him complaining, for example, about the fact that Nick always put him in for questioning black suspects, tapping him twice on the shoulder and saying 'you know what to do', but heavy in a condescending tone. Hell, you always saw the same ridiculous type of episode happening with Lennon as well.

Taken back to reality by the commotion bubbling between your colleagues, you noticed Emma standing in the doorway as if she had sneakily appeared to observe the reactions and the two of you exchanged very tense silent looks. She didn’t look defeated, but averted your gaze as soon as it became just a staring contest.

You turned to the TV - to the takes of Nick and the guys during the Merrimen case, then at their faces during the press conference.

Huh.

-------------------------

The atmosphere was burial-like, to say the least. You had spent the day in the laboratory, like a forced routine return, and it was as if no one had the balls to open their mouth and speak verbally about the subject. There were official emails from the DEA requesting evidence that had already been collected, reminders from Emma about other cases you were working on in parallel, one thing or another from Ballard (who didn't know how to create an email conversation and ended up answering each of your responses with a new email). There was a sepulchral silence from Major Crimes, but not the kind that left them untainted in the precinct's dome of recognition and social hierarchy; it was a shameful silence.

If you could bet on a collective concern, perhaps everyone was tense at the idea of having been publicly exposed as incompetent, and if even the best team of detectives in the county had failed, there was no certainty of the stability of the Department's resources. This would not only make the LASD incompetent (or corrupt), but also incomplete.

You have a new text! Your phone said, right when you were in the middle of a photo digital treatment of a license plate from a robbery case, even if your mind were wandering. In one of the browser tabs, Zillow was open with apartments in the central area of the city and, in another, your aunt's Facebook because your mother said she had done a hair atrocity (she had dyed her hair egg yellow, which could be an atrocity indeed). You looked at the phone screen lazily, already expecting another question from Ballard about anything that was already written on your reports, and when you saw who it really was, you were surprised.

-------------------------

“Is this a bat cave or something?”

In fact it didn’t even look like a cave, it was just the rooftop of the building. From afar, you could see the maintenance guys working in the electrical system on the top floor (which was where the Department's technology section was located), so if O'Brien and the others were trying to create some kind of reflective scene after a defeat like Zack Snyder, you could only read how pathetic and improvised the attempt was. It almost made you laugh. Almost.

“Was that supposed to be funny?” Zapata asked with a scowl, to which made you raise your eyebrows at the animosity.

“I think so, but if you're offended I think I'm on the right track.”

“You really are a bitch.”

“Tony-” Benny intervened.

“Yo, there’s no need to-” Connors said.

“Yeah, Zapata, watch your fucking mouth,” Biting back wasn’t exactly the best idea, because you knew the spirits were agitated, but it was obvious that the context didn’t allow for that type of behavior against you. Everyone there knew that that reaction was the remnant of misdirected anger.

You two shared a silent glare. Tony considered your face for a moment and you did the same; when Magalon pushed him to avert the attention, Zapata waved him off and walked away - you and Benny shared a small glance, one he soon ended to look at Nick, who watched the scene while lighting a cigarette.

“We done?” He asked.

“Don’t know, Nick, are we?” You sighed in defeat, sitting on a concrete support and looking anywhere but him. Again, you did what seemed like a copying mechanism: brushed your hands over your face, leaned over your knees and just… accepted. “How?”

“He used Isla.”

And so, being a somewhat literate person in the context of dealing with police officers, you could see the pattern and tone of the conversation that had just begun: it was almost an interrogation. Everyone there, kind of around him, looking for the person who would go to the guillotine. It took a while, between the silence that followed, the way everyone (except Benny) was staring at you and Zapata's reaction so spontaneously explosive, but when you lifted your head and looked at that scene, connecting the dots, you frowned and felt truly offended.

“Wow.”

“We need to be sure.”

“And who do you think you are to act like that? A fucking Corleone?” That made you scoff, giggling in disbelief. You adjusted your stance, arms crossed and erect back. “Believe me, O’Brien, if I had anything to do with this shitty show, you would know it by my own mouth.”

“You reacted to Isla.”

“Because I’m a human being, Nick, the fuck.”

No one said a word. There was this soft breeze flowing around, given the time of the year and the area where you were, one that you noticed that made their hairs flow and you shiver a little. If you paid close attention, you would see frustration and rage and that regular disappointment of a kid when they have lost a toy they like or are denied a candy. The loss, whatever it was, hurt for them but not for professional reasons but for honor. A very uncompensated and arbitrary honor, but an honor nonetheless. And it was always easier to blame someone else. You knew it was easy to make a calculation that would work for you because there would always be the feeling that you were impulsive, stubborn, even cruel - because men hurt you, because you still resent things in your personal life.

“I think it's common sense that almost no one here likes you very much,” You said in a low tone. “And we can agree that ethics and professionalism aren’t exactly the main pillars of what we do.”

Nobody said anything, because you were right. It was actually impressive that you managed to maintain a calm, almost soothing tone right after being basically accused of something so serious. Deep down, you felt that, at least, Nick didn't put much faith in this hypothesis, that this was a demonstration of power in front of others because his hands were tied and this was truly new to him.

And you didn't ask what the plan was, what they were going to do next. You didn't care about that. No one needed to cry because they lost the case, it was obvious that it wasn't the first time this had happened - it certainly wasn't the last either.

Nick puffed some smoke out of his chest, eyeing you for a moment. Then, with a ‘tsk’, he walked closer and crouched down in front of you, eye to eye, making you realize how much he hadn't been getting a good night's sleep.

“He promised exclusive protection. For her children, for her… Even for the fucking cats she has,” He said, but you knew it was a personal talking, something the others knew but didn’t quite understood. “I can't offer that.”

“It became personal.”

“... Yeah.”

“And do you like her?”

No answer. Nick looked at you for a moment, then averted his gaze to the floor. You saw Benny there, watching, expecting, and you didn’t know why that made you sigh in some kind of compassion.

“You’re tired,” Not a question, but a statement. One you did calmly, almost whispered just so he could hear.

You two looked at each other. Nick was clenching his jaw, holding words in his mouth and turning them around enough so they could come back in a dry swallow. When he looked away first, looking at the floor, blinking a few times, it was the first time you really saw genuine frustration, a moment of weakness that maybe, one day, Debbie had seen, or that the co-workers who were around you at the moment also witnessed in a rare way.

Your brow was furrowed and you were truly confused by this gap. Looking around, above O'Brien's head, you saw Zapata looking at the city around him with an annoyed look, his back to the two of you; Murph kept his hands in his hoodie pockets, Henderson had his arms crossed. Benny watched you, then looked at the ground, shaking his head.

No, this wasn't about you, nor was it your fault. In that context, you were just a part of the realization of something you hadn't touched until you saw every defeated feature on that terrace.

“... Are you sure?” You asked, blinking a few times with a shaky voice.

Nick shook his head.

“And you expect me to do something about it?”

“No,” He said with a firm tone, getting up on his feet. “No one here is sure.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” It was directed to Tony, who just tsked and averted his gaze.

When everyone kept quiet, not daring to admit their mistake or even apologize, you were the one getting up, still not sure how to react and uncertain of how to end that conversation.

“Never do that to me again, don’t-” You collected your voice, clearing your throat. “If you're disappointed with how things ended, don't expect me to help put out your fires.”

“I didn’t ask you that.”

“So what are you asking? Mm? Because I know you don't want me to pat you on the head and tell you everything is going to be okay,” There was harshness in your tone, almost a fury. And surprisingly, he didn’t answer that equally. “Share the weight of your conscience with those who are really at fault. And, I don't know, investigate, prove, don't do anything. You're Nick O'Brien, Big Nick, the badass. From what I see, everyone here has the right to doubt, so if it's worth the advice, start asking questions in the right place.”

“Maybe you won't like it if I start doing that.”

“Oh, is it a threat?” With raised eyebrows, you walked a few steps closer, staring at him in the eye.

“It wouldn't be the first time you tried to harm my team with your shit. You were the first to point the finger at me because of Isla, but you didn't hesitate to make a scene with Walsh and put Benny in the middle of whatever it is you have with the guy.”

“Listen now-”

“Excuse me?” You frowned, not even letting Magalon finish the interruption he was doing while getting closer. “I didn't ask anyone here to defend me! If this fucking case went wrong, try to consider your incompetence or the fact that no one asked you to fuck a suspect.”

When he kept quiet again, you scoffed, shaking your head.

“It’s so easy, isn’t it? Walk around like you rule every place, do whatever the fuck you want, put the blame on everyone to feel better… I've always seen Walsh that way, but he's not an exception, he's a rule. You come here, accuse me, then insinuate something so…”

“So what?”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then I was wrong. You’re dumb and naive enough to not see that. Or a coward.”

You nodded.

“You always had all the tricks in hand and let a widowed single mother almost get killed by a gang. Who really is the coward here, Nick?”

Turning your back, you walked away from him, already opening the door to leave the terrace. Before you could, though, you eyed him one more time.

“Whatever your plan is, when and if they ask me, I'll be sincere. About you and about her. Because I can do that.”

“You would never say anything against Emma.”

“And I don't blame you for not believing that. It’s clear that it's been a while since you've been able to understand honesty.”

-------------------------

“You called her a bitch.”

Hearing Benny's voice break the silence was strange, so everyone was confused before understanding what he was saying. When they understood, he saw Zapata shift uncomfortably on the couch, looking at the coffee table.

“I didn't think straight at the moment.”

“It seems like no one here has done that.”

“You want to say something?” Nick pressed with a rough tone, as if ready to snap at the detective right away. Benny measured him, shrugged.

“I told you it was a bad idea.”

“We needed to be sure. This shit is going to get ugly soon.”

“And you pushed away one of the few people who could keep us from getting screwed over too.”

The intimacy created that kind of unexpected conversation, even though everyone there saw Nick as an older brother or a symbol of leadership. When they exchanged glances after Benny's response, there was a silent consensus that the disagreements were slowly getting bigger, something that had been surrounding the group long before you showed up or the case.

Everyone continued smoking in silence and the tense atmosphere didn’t dissipate. Things weren't going well.

-------------------------

Who were you to point the finger? To define people by a standard of behavior? To say 'you’re good' or 'you’re bad'?

You knew Nick could and did play dirty. You would imagine, given recent events, that Emma had learned to play this game from the position she had. This left you in a spiral of personal conflicts because, in the end, you felt like a hypocrite for wanting so much for things to be as per the booklet. Hell, you knew what you were getting into when you started your career there - you always did. And at the same time, after all that, you felt a hint of disappointment, of suffocation, as if you didn't have a shred of rationality.

It was an explosion of things, of sensations; you didn’t know how to deal with anything and you couldn’t tell anyone. Maybe you were a little paranoid too. Sometimes you were watching Emma, waiting for something, as if at some point she let out a more strategic and 'selfish' nature.

The marijuana stash (that's what your brother called it) was in the drawer next to the bed. When you were with Theodore, he also used it, although he didn't really like it because he had headaches, so it was a common thing in the house.

You were on your third or fourth drink, staring at the ceiling and releasing smoke into the air. There was no music, just the low light in the room and the brightness of Kojak's aquarium. Someone had been trying to call for half an hour, but you didn't answer, keeping your eyes distracted on the ceiling - There were some stains from the beginning of an infiltration near the window. You would have to fix this too before considering selling the house. The idea made you grunt and grimace.

Before you could put the cigarette back in your mouth, someone knocked on the door. The doorbell had stopped working a while ago and that was another thing that had to be fixed.

“Who’s it?” You asked in a high voice, not moving from your spot.

No one answered. That made you frown, then sit - which gave you a small discomfort. Seconds later, your phone had gone off.

“... Hello?”

“It’s me. Lemme in?”

Everything was screaming for you to say no, to hang up and leave him waiting outside until he gave up and disappeared. It would be very convenient for him to be there, ready to convince you of something, to change sides or be more malleable; it made sense. Still, you were a little out of orbit from the weed, slightly sluggish and relaxed, so you calmly got up, abandoned your phone on the couch and walked over, opening it but not waiting too long to see him enter.

You took slow steps into the room. There was the sound of the door closing, then being locked, and then his footsteps coming behind, but keeping his distance.

“Weed?” He asked.

“Are you going to arrest me?”

“I could,” That answer made you snort. “But it’s Cali. And you’re literally my teenage wet dream right now, so I can let it pass.”

Teasing or not, you looked at yourself and noticed your clothes (or lack thereof): panties, a long t-shirt. When you turned to him, standing in the middle of the room, Benny was staring at your legs, but he wasn't smiling.

“You're like a broken record, you know that?” You raised your eyebrows, hands on your hips. “All you say is that I'm in your dreams. This is cheesy as fuck.”

“You didn't complain about that when you were riding me.”

“Oh, so this is my fault?”

“Well, you’re being quite hypocritical.”

“Fuck off.”

“Stop it.”

“What do you want?”

“You didn't answer my calls.”

“That doesn't answer my question, so I guess we're even.”

He was tense, stressed. You could tell. Benny wouldn't talk to you like that if he wasn't angry about something, maybe even frustrated because you weren't 'clear-headed' to talk at all.

For a few seconds, he considered you while licking his lips, as if the gears were turning in his head. Yours was also moving, but more gradually, slowly, which left you a little unresponsive when you saw him take off his jacket.

“This must be good, you didn't even hear me.”

“Mm?” You blinked, taking in the sight of his forearms while he lifted his shirt sleeves. That made him crack a giggle.

“Can I have some?”

Oh. Oh. The weed. He was already walking closer to the coffee table to grab the joint between two fingers, so you watched in awe as he put the cig on his lips and took a long drag, eyeing the burning tip with curiosity. Benny hummed and nodded while puffing the smoke.

“Shit’s really good. How did you get it?”

“... My brother,” And before he could take another drag, you pick the joint from his hands. “Smoke, hold and pass. That's the rule, smartass.”

“Are we in college or somethin’?”

“Shut up and sit down.”

That's what you two did (or at least he did). You took another drag, handed over the cigarette and lay down on the floor again, next to his feet, and faced the ceiling again.

-------------------------

It was a very silent few minutes, almost making you forget that Benny was there. When the effect of marijuana hit him, he was already lying on the sofa, without his shoes or his top shirt, limiting himself to showing his arms in a white tank top. This gave you a period of lucidity, very brief, and soon there was no more marijuana to smoke, despite the joint not being finished.

All your caution was being thrown out the window, you knew, but it wasn't like it was going to make any difference.

“Hey,” You called him in a low tone.

“Mm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Benny stayed quiet for a moment or two, as if gathering his thoughts, then you listened to him squirming on the couch, getting on his side to look at you. Sensing the attention, you did the same.

“Shoot it.”

“What happened with Walsh wasn’t on purpose.”

Silence. For a beat, you even thought that he didn’t hear you, given the fact he was already zoning out a little. You started to feel embarrassed - weird. Well, you were high, which could lead to a version of you who would babble about a lot of nonsense and shit, but that was something that came from your lucid mind, probably a thing you wouldn’t say so softly without the weed.

“It wasn’t a question,” He teased in a calm voice, smiling at you.

“... I know,” You smiled back, but it turned into a bunch of stupid giggling while you hid part of your face in the carpet.

It cooled down soon.

“I didn’t see it this way, you know. Walsh is a stupid motherfucker.”

“Jackass.”

“Dickhead.”

“Yeah… His head looks like a dick. An ugly one.”

“And there’s any pretty dicks somewhere?”

“Just as there’s pretty pussies.”

“Have you ever seen others?”

You looked at each other, a small smile playing on your lips. When realization started to slowly creep on him, he opened his mouth in shock.

“It was in college-”

“Always in college,” He rolled his eyes, grinning like an idiot.

“I had this friend, Kennedy. We were roommates, I was single at the time, you know… It happened. But now we’re just good friends.”

“Mm.”

“I’m serious!” You laughed.

“So you’re telling me that if this Kennedy comes up here tonight, ask to go down on you or whatever, you would say no?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Fuck, I would. I’m not cold blooded, gatita.”

A series of laughs filled the living room again.

“We’re going out of the question here, yeah? Having a serious conversation.”

“You were the one talking about dicks here!”

“Because you called Walsh a dickhead!”

“Okay,” He sighed, adjusting his body to lean over his arm and have a better look at you. Little by little, Benny started to frown, as if thinking hard on something. You would be lying if you said it wasn’t a beautiful sight.

“So?”

“I know you didn’t do it on purpose,” His voice was soft, calm, even if a little concerned. “Plus, you had just signed a divorce and Walsh was there talking about it, humiliating you. That wasn't right.”

You considered his words calmly, blinking heavily but still paying attention.

“Nick wasn’t in his right mind when he said that.”

“You think?”

“Mm-hm. And Zapata too. He acted like a fucking animal when he called you a bitch.”

“You’re not just saying that, are you?” The question was serious, probably the first serious question you said since he came to your house out of nowhere.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re with them. Like… you know. With them.”

Benny nodded, taking in your words carefully.

“Fair enough.”

But he didn’t push the topic, nor tried to apologize or something. He let you have your doubts, probably because he himself couldn’t help but agree that maybe, if it was the other way around, there would be uncertainty on his part as well. You sighed, then, returning your eyes to the carpet and poking it every now and then, as if looking for something on it with false concentration.

“Hey.”

“Mm?”

“Come here.”

“What?”

“‘Wanna feel you,” He almost whined, extending one of his arms to grab you.

“That’s why you came? To feel me?”

“Are you fucking mocking me, woman?”

“I am,” You sat up carefully, smirking at him lazily. “Looked like you just waited for the best opportunity to come back here and fuck me.”

“But I don’t wanna fuck you, I wanna feel you.”

“What’s the difference?”

The position you stayed couldn’t be more convenient: him, starting to sit as well, legs spread while you rose on your knees, ready to get up. It gave him some time to stare at you with a lazy grin.

“Saying I wanna fuck would imply that I just came here for it,” He explained. “Feeling you could lead to sex, but with some warm up.”

“Both times we had sex had some warm up,” You argued, hands gripping his thighs lightly.

“And it was so good, wasn’t it?” Benny asked when you rose just a little to get closer to his face.

You observed his face for a moment before pecking his lips lightly. When he just sighed, melting into it, you smiled and gave him another kiss, this time a little longer, wetter - enough to, when you part ways, it made a muah. The fabric of your shirt was worn out, old enough to make it more thin and give you a better feel when you gently brushed your chest on his. It made you sigh against his lips, doing it again when he groaned a little, unable to move a muscle but reacting in slow breaths.

Both of you, silly high adults, brushing your noses, kissing soundly and ready to fuck each other’s brains out as if the world wasn’t basically on fire.

“I didn’t come here for this.”

This made you move your face, just a little, and the look on your eyes scrunched up in confusion. It felt like a spontaneous burst of lucidity, almost like a punch, and when he turned his face to the side, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, you felt brutally rejected. You moved your hands away from his legs. Suddenly, the carpet was hurting your knees and you stood up, muttering a 'sorry' as you sat on the edge of the sofa, a little away from him.

“Did you come to defend Nick or something?”

“This has nothing to do with Nick.”

“So why are you here?”

He considered your face for a moment, still taking in the effects of the weed - even if you both started to feel more buzzed then properly high.

“You don't want to go to war with him.”

“Oh,” You raised your eyebrows, scoffing a sarcastic giggle. “So you came to be a gentleman and defend me from the evils of disagreeing with Nicholas O'Brien? I thought you made it clear that you didn't have much chivalry in your personality.”

“I don’t.”

“Mm.”

“But that has nothing to do with chivalry. You’re not being rational.”

“About…?”

Benny sighed.

“We both know it was Emma.”

“That shit again…” You groaned, getting up brusquely from your seat and wobbling a little before starting to walk away to the kitchen.

“What happened was-”

“A mistake. A fucking mistake.”

When you turned, Benny was up too, standing a few feet closer to the kitchen entrance with his arms hanging loosely on his sides. The lack of answer made you shake your head, grabbing a glass bottle of water from the fridge and drinking a good amount.

“I'm not naive to think she couldn't have been involved in this, but I'm not naive or stupid to absolve Nick of the shit he should be responsible for,” You noticed his dry lips, the way he just blinked at you with a stern expression. With a tsk, you caught hold of a cup in the sink for him and poured some water in it, not daring to give, but letting it rest closer.

He came, grabbed the cup.

You could feel the effects of the marijuana, which were already weaker before, start to leave your system. You were sick, you made a face, but you swallowed your discomfort with more water.

“I'm not Isla.”

It slipped out of your mouth like a slim and unstable thought, one that made him just nod, sipping on the water calmly while leaning on the sink beside you, eyeing the other side of the room.

“Didn’t think you were.”

“No?”

“Nn-nn.”

“But it would be easy to pretend that I am, wouldn't it? I’m alone, recently divorced, dedicated enough to work but very reticent about my boss.”

You knew you had offended him the moment you said it, but Benny didn't show any anger. He stayed quiet, sipped the rest of the water and stood in front of you, face to face, in such a firm way that you almost backed away if you weren't so irritated.

“If I were as much of a son of a bitch as you think I am, I would have let you finish what you started on that couch,” That made you avert your gaze, but he gently pushed your chin, bringing you to eye his face again. “I'm not Nick.”

“I'm sorry if you made it clear otherwise. I'm not very good at reading between the lines of someone who literally said they’re just like him.”

“With other people. I never crossed the line with you, did I?”

“Because I never expected anything from you. I don't expect anything from you, actually, but I get a little offended if you show up at my house and say things like that.”

Before he could answer, you kept going.

“She's just a bargaining chip, Benny. She always was. And despite our visibly very different lives, I know what it's like to be used and then discarded as if you’re nothing, as if every promise was nothing more than a lie to achieve something very personal, something that never had to do with you,” You said. “I don't want you to come here and expect me to point fingers or accuse people. If it was Emma, if it was Walsh, it doesn't make any difference if the person primarily responsible for this doesn't take the real blame.”

“You know the world isn’t a fairytale, don't you?”

“I do. And Isla knows it too, better than anyone. This has nothing to do with an imaginary, but with commitment. When was the last time Nick used his badge for anything other than taking it out of his pocket while a whore gave him a blowjob?”

Nothing. Just silence. For a long, perceptive, heavy moment - silence.

“Emma received a letter of recommendation from the DEA forensic department,” He said in a low tone, catching you completely by surprise. That felt like a test, the way he observed your reaction with care, looking for an answer. When he found it, Benny nodded. “That's why I came here.”

“... What? I don’t understand.”

“I can't remember the last time I had five minutes of conversation with someone who had nothing to do with this shit.”

You could barely process the information, what that implied, because you had every right to disbelieve and have your doubts. There was a suspicious look on your face, he knew that because you didn't hide it, but he didn't take offense this time.

“Stay away. Things are going to get fucked up.”

--------------------------------

Taglist (no pressure)

@cheesybadgers

@nerdyreaderpapi

@thesandbeneathmytoes

@thoroughlymodernminutia

@mysoulisasunflower

@seaweeden

@eclecticfashionbookszipper

@servenas-inner-fangirl

#benny borracho magalon #benny magalon #benny magalon x reader #den of thieves fic #reader insert #female reader #maurice compte

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kmomof4 · 11 months

Text

Cave Cruises, Cabin Capers, & Cracked Craniums A fic collaboration between @kmomof4, @jrob64, @snowbellewells, and @whimsicallyenchantedrose

What happens when four fanfiction writer fandom friends go on vacation together? A fic collaboration, of course! We knew from the start we wanted to have a collab sprint involved in our vacay, but it wasn’t until we were in the thick of it that we decided we wanted our story to essentially be a fanfic version of our trip itself. Sadly we did not meet any hot pirates, but it was a lot of fun all the same. All of the pictures in the post were taken by one of us on the trip and the cabin in the picset above is where we stayed.

Shoutout to @motherkatereloyshipper for her manip of the Lost Boys Cave sign at the beginning of the fic! You’re the best, babe!

This is a long one y’all, over 16k, so be sure you have snacks and drinks to enjoy while you read!

Summary: When Emma Swan and her friends go on their annual girls’ vacation, they meet a group of guys who seem to keep turning up in the same places. Pranks, yearning looks and romance ensue.

Rating: T for some strong language and a suggestive hot tub scene.

On ao3

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

A collaborative story by @snowbellewells, @whimsicallyenchantedrose, @kmomof4 and @jrob64, based on our very own girls’ trip (without the guys, sadly)

Emma Swan and her girlfriends–Mary Margaret Blanchard, Ruby Lucas, Regina Mills, Belle French, and Elsa Arendelle–were on the first day of their yearly, week-long girls trip. The friends had been vacationing together since they’d graduated college three years before and all went their separate ways–some to graduate school, others to their chosen career fields. Regina had just graduated from Harvard Law School at the top of her class, and she had job offers in Chicago and Knoxville, so the friends made plans to help her decide on a location by booking this year's trip to Kentucky and eastern Tennessee. The group met in Bowling Green, Kentucky for the Lost Boys Cave tour, and later that day, they would drive to Pigeon Forge, Tennessee to the cabin they’d rented for the week. Not only was it near one of Regina’s possible job locations, but Ruby’s grandmother – “Granny” to them all – ran a diner and lived in Pigeon Forge as well.

Regina had been born and raised in New York City and was already complaining that the fresh pine smell in the air was getting to her.

“How much farther is it to this cave that we apparently have to see?” she groused. “My feet hurt already. I didn’t sign up for blisters.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “If you’d taken my suggestion to actually break in your new tennis shoes beforehand, you wouldn’t have that problem.”

Regina was on the verge of what Emma was sure would be an excessive amount of snark, when they heard footsteps approaching them on the walking path.

“Good morning, ladies,” an accented voice said from behind them. Emma turned around and nearly lost her breath at the handsome man who had spoken to them.

His deep blue eyes sparkled in the morning light, and the slight smirk and raised eyebrow on his face sent her heart racing. He had artfully tousled black hair and trimmed scruff the same color, with just a hint of ginger peeking through that became noticeable when the sun filtered through the leaf canopy over the path where they all walked.

A chorus of good morning resounded in response to Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome’s cheerful greeting, but Emma couldn’t find it within herself to speak to him. His good looks left her completely speechless.

“Are you ladies joining the 11 o’clock tour?” he asked.

Emma nodded– still completely tongue tied– while Mary Margaret answered in the affirmative for all of them.

“Wonderful!” he exclaimed exuberantly. “You’re with me then.”

He was walking beside Emma by this time and turned toward her, waggling his eyebrows. “Cat got your tongue, Lass?”

Emma could feel the blush spreading down to her neck as she tried once more to force her mouth to work properly. She wet her lips and took a deep breath, determined to say something.

“Lass?” she asked saucily. “You fall through a time portal or something? What century are you from anyway?” She cocked her head at him challengingly as she lobbed the verbal ball back into his court. She was a bit surprised to find herself anxiously awaiting his reply.

That blatantly expressive eyebrow of his practically leapt into his hairline, and a smirk slid over his mouth at her sassy response. “Let me assure you, Love, though there is nothing wrong with speaking as a proper, dashing gentleman of old, I’m from the same time as yourself, and as you can clearly see, I have quite the youthful glow.”

Someone should register those blue eyes of his as deadly weapons, Emma thought to herself. She was suddenly aware that all of her friends were beginning to take much too curious an interest in their verbal jousting match, so she moved away from him with a rather dry, “Not your love, Buddy.”

He chuckled knowingly but did back up a step. “As you wish then, Darling. Perhaps you will grant me your name instead, so I shall know what I may call you?”

“Her name’s Emma, Handsome,” Ruby interjected, a bit too eagerly in Emma’s opinion. “I’m Ruby. This is Regina, Mary Margaret, Elsa, and Belle.” She gestured to herself and each of her other friends in turn. “And what may we call you? And when? Oh, and how often?”

The man in front of them grinned before answering, “Killian Jones, at your service, ladies.” He gave a small bow and directed a wink at Emma.

Ruby saw it, but she was pleasantly distracted when a tall, curly-headed guy with scruff defining his strong jawline joined them on the path. His eyes quickly took her in as well, before turning his attention to Killian with the message he had come to deliver, “Liam and I’ve got the other boat.”

“Thanks, Graham,” Killian said to the newcomer.

“The other boat?” Ruby asked. “There are two boats?”

“It depends on the size of the group,” Graham answered, a soft smile touching his lips as his eyes lingered on hers.

“How big does the group have to be?” she asked, propping her hand on her hip. “Because I can go flag down some cars on the road, if necessary.”

“Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem, Love,” Killian said as they crossed the footbridge and reached the assigned meeting place, noting the large group of people waiting for them.

Emma leaned back against a large rock and enjoyed the view as Killian greeted the gathered groups–people hailing from Florida, Michigan, Colorado and even California–and began his spiel about the caves, the local ecosystem, and legends and lore of the area. He was good at his job, and it was clear he loved it.

“Be sure to stop me with any questions you have,” he finished.

Ruby groaned. “You have no idea what you’re asking, Killian. Mary Margaret is a school teacher and will definitely take you up on that.”

He gave her a good-natured smile, before turning his charm back to Emma as they began walking toward the cave. “And what about you, Love? Do you have any questions for me?”

“Depends,” she answered with a smirk, “do they have to be about caves?”

He leaned in and gave her a saucy wink. “You may ask me as many questions as you like…perhaps over a few libations after the tour.”

Emma wished very much she had a witty comeback for that, but his low drawling voice, combined with the flirtatious wink left her not only speechless, but unable to remember what words even were.

He gave her a knowing grin, before turning back to the group as a whole.

“To your left, here, you’ll see what we call the Blue Hole,” he said, gesturing toward a small, round body of dark blue water. “Legend has it that if you dive too deeply within its depths, Peter Pan will grab you and drag you to Neverland. It was deterrent enough to keep the locals from exploring it.”

Elsa scoffed. “Neverland? Isn’t that supposed to be a place of wonder and magic? Why would anyone be afraid of someone like Peter Pan?”

“The child is a bloody demon,” Killian answered, completely serious. “I wouldn’t test him.”

After passing beside the Lost River–called such, because no one knew where it began–they finally reached the cave itself. Two other men waited for them, and Killian promptly introduced them as his older brother Liam, and Will Scarlet.

“Some of you will have the honor of riding with Graham Humbert and myself,” Liam explained, “while the rest will be in the nearly-as-capable hands of Will and my little brother.”

“I think you mean ‘younger’ brother,” Killian muttered under his breath.

Mary Margaret turned to those in their group. “Any preferences about which boat we take?”

Ruby grinned broadly. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I know which one I’m choosing. Graham’s hot, and I certainly wouldn’t mind spending a little extra time with him.” She tossed the woman next to her a knowing look. “And from the way Elsa’s eyeing that new guy, Liam, I’m guessing she wants to join me.”

The woman in question blushed a pretty pink, but didn’t contradict her.

“I’ll stick with Killian,” Belle said. “He seems quite knowledgeable, not to mention more than a little smitten with our Emma.”

Emma rolled her eyes and shrugged. “He’s a shameless flirk,” she asserted, her countenance turning confused the moment the word was out of her mouth.

“A what?” Elsa asked.

Emma waved her hands around aimlessly. “Oh, I meant to say a flirty jerk,” she explained, “but what’s the harm in having a little fun? After all, this is a vacation.”

Regina groaned, stepping next to Ruby and Elsa. “No thanks. If I have to spend a twenty minute boat ride with Captain Guyliner, with his yearning looks and doe-y eyes, I may vomit.”

Mary Margaret, for her part, took her place beside Emma for no real reason other than balancing out their group.

With the seating arrangements made, it was time to step into the boats docked side by side at the entrance of the cave. Emma took Killian’s hand as he helped her in. The moment her hand touched his, it was as if sparks went up between them. Emma gasped, pulling her hand back and meeting his equally startled eyes. For a moment neither moved, eyes locked, chemistry sizzling between them.

“Oi! What’s the hold up?” Killian’s co-guide, Will, complained.

It broke the spell, and Killian stepped back, scratching at a spot behind his ear. “Right, if you will, please take your seat.”

After Killian and Will helped the rest of the passengers onto their boat, Killian leaned over to tie the rope mooring back to the dock and Emma blatantly stared at his backside. The man was entirely too hot for anyone’s good. He glanced back as he finished and caught her staring.

“Like what you see, Love?” he asked with a saucy grin.

“You better believe it,” she tossed right back at him.

Killian laughed heartily as he hopped up onto the raised platform between the two rows of seats in the boat. “If you liked that, you’ll love this. Here is the part where I practice for my next job–as a runway model.”

Emma snorted a laugh as he walked, exaggerating his movements as though he were modeling the latest in haute couture, complete with sound effects.

“If you’ll look to the ceiling directly behind me,” Killian said, a moment later as the boat began to slowly glide through the cloudy water, “you will find our first attraction, the Wishing Stone.”

“Oh, that sounds mysterious and magical!” Mary Margaret said. “Why is it called that?”

Killian gave her a grin, having expected the question. As Ruby had warned, she had, indeed peppered him with a steady stream of questions throughout the entirety of the tour to that point. “Because if you don’t duck your head, you’ll wish you had.”

Emma groaned at the corny joke, but obediently ducked her head, turning it toward the back of the boat, where Will seemed to be so intent on something he was saying to Belle that he’d missed his co-guide’s warning. One second he was talking, and gesturing animatedly, and then, with a crack, his head came in contact with the low hanging cave ceiling.

“Bloody hell,” the man exclaimed, as he tumbled backwards and landed with a tremendous splash in the shallow water behind them.

“Oh, for the love of…” Killian said, shaking his head in disgust. “Would someone in the back kindly give my git of a co-guide a hand up?”

Always eager to help no matter the circumstances, Belle offered a very soggy Will assistance as he climbed back in the vessel. The man gave her a grateful smile. Belle returned it hesitantly before turning determinedly away from him. Emma gave her a sympathetic smile. Belle had only recently gone through a very painful breakup, and feelings or flirtations of any kind were the last things she wanted right now.

The boat tour lasted around a quarter of an hour, Killian and Will each pointing out structures of interest.

“If you notice,” Will said at one point, directing his flashlight to the ceiling, “the occasional floods that pass through this area tend to leave the ceilings smooth, but we’ve got a few baby stalagmites forming up ahead.”

“I think you mean stalactites,” Belle answered. “Stalactites hold tight to the ceiling, while you might trip over a stalagmite at your feet.”

Will tossed her a delighted smile. “Right you are, my sweet! When I cracked my cranium I must have lost my good sense.”

Emma saw Killian roll his eyes and mutter. “Said as though he ever had any to begin with.”

When the tour came to an end, Will and Killian hopped onto the docks, secured the boat, and began helping their passengers out. First on, Emma was the last off, and when she took Killian’s hand, it was like before, but this time even more. It was as though an electric current ran through her at the touch and she audibly gasped, her eyes fixed on his. She couldn’t look away, not as she stepped up onto the edge of the boat, nor when she stepped toward the dock. Her foot landed on a rope, and with a pop, it twisted to the side and she fell on the ground with a quick curse.

He was at her side in a moment.

“Emma. Love, are you okay?” he asked, reaching to steady her.

“I’m fine,” she bit out, feeling the intense embarrassment of her tumble far more than the pain of the sprain. “Just…don’t hover,” she said, waving her arms about. “Let me up!”

“Nonsense, Emma, you must let me attend to your injury,” he said, hand on her shoulder holding her still. “Allow me to wrap it for you.” He called for Will to bring him the first aid kit from the boat.

Emma shivered at the thought of his hands on her, even for something as innocuous as wrapping a sprained ankle. She should refuse; she really should, but it was, after all, a bit of a hike back to her car, and she knew her twisted joint could use the extra support.

“Fine, just hurry up with it,” she grumbled. “Mary Margaret has our vacation planned out to the minute, and she’d give me hell for messing with her precious itinerary.”

He laughed. “I think you'll find my ministrations to be both quick and efficient.”

Quick and efficient they might have been, but Emma felt every second of it with a swoop of her stomach as Killian gently cradled her foot on his lap, carefully removing her sock and shoe, and then expertly wound a long bandage around her foot and ankle, before restoring her footwear.

The swoop intensified as he offered to fetch a golf cart and drive her back to the car. These were dangerous waters she was treading in, and she’d best put a stop to it. The flirtatious rogue, she could deal with. The sweet, genuine man, she couldn’t.“Thanks for the offer, but it’s just a little sprain,” she said, a bit more harshly than she’d intended. “I can hobble back to the car on my own.”

He looked as though he wanted to protest further, but the expression on her face must have deterred him. He took a quick step back and glanced aside. “As you wish.”

“Thanks though,” she said, not wishing to give him the impression she was upset with him. “You know, for the tour and everything.”

He sketched an exaggerated courtly bow, “It was my very great pleasure, Love. And should you ever find yourself in the area again, feel free to look me up.”

While she couldn’t say the idea wasn’t tempting, Emma merely gave him a quick smile and then limped over to her friends who were waiting for her. No point in getting her hopes up. After all, once she left the park, she’d never see Killian Jones again.

************

Once they arrived at the cabin and unpacked all their belongings, the ladies made a trip into town to buy groceries they’d need for the week. Emma’s ankle was still very tender, but she wasn’t willing to be left behind, just to sit and be bored while the rest of them were gone. So she promised Mary Margaret and Elsa, the designated moms of the friend group, she’d use a motorized scooter to do her part of the shopping.

When they pulled into a parking space at the local market, Belle ran in to collect a scooter for Emma, who felt herself both blushing and scowling despite being touched by Belle’s thoughtfulness. She knew that the way she was beginning to hobble unsteadily to deal with the pain in her ankle would require her to use the scooter, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. It made her feel either ancient or like she was blowing a minor sprain completely out of proportion. “Thanks,” she muttered dryly, with a sidelong glance at Belle’s smiling face. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Now, enough of that,” Elsa broke in matter-of-factly, taking Emma by the elbow with little ceremony and guiding her right up to the scooter and into its seat. “You just sit yourself down and stop worrying over how it might look. The sooner we get what we need, the sooner we can be back and you can get off that ankle to elevate and ice it.”

There was no comeback to offer for such sensible reasoning, so Emma nodded, zipped her lips, and steered toward the door, the rest of the ladies following in her wake. They paused only briefly in the chilled grocery air to organize who would grab what and where they would reconvene in twenty minutes. Once each had their short list, they split up to complete their mission.

Emma grabbed most of the dairy essentials she had been assigned quite easily, then motored over to the ice cream freezer to finish up. She could nearly taste the creamy, chocolatey Rocky Road melting on her tongue already, and she was leaning in the case to grab the last carton of it off the shelf before she even noticed there was anyone else nearby. In fact, she wouldn’t have noticed at all if the carton hadn’t been taken from her grasp by another hand grabbing it at exactly the same moment she’d intended to lift it herself.

“Hey, that was mine!” she accused, darting a withering glare to the left at the interloper, only to find their unfairly sexy tour guide from earlier in the day.

Wearing an all-too-smug expression, Killian Jones nodded in greeting with a lazy, crooked grin that Emma wanted to punch - or kiss - off of his face. “Are you sure about that, Lass? It would appear that the Rocky Road is in my possession.”

“Only because you took it out of my hands!” she argued. “And what are you even doing here, anyway? Are you following me now? Crippling me at the start of my vacation wasn’t enough?!?”

Tilting his head to look at her, Killian kept his mouth shut. Even if her assessment was completely unfair, he rarely got himself in trouble for things he didn’t say. Instead, he waited a moment, thinking she might calm down and take back her accusation. When Emma crossed her arms over her chest in a huff and instead looked as though she might happily run him over with the scooter she rode, he realized that was not about to happen. Perhaps a bit of well-placed smolder would be in order?

“Come now, Darling,” he soothed, lowering his voice and purposefully allowing the lilt in his words to become more pronounced. “You know as well as I that your unfortunate fall at the cave was no fault of mine. And I did patch you up as best I could, did I not?”

“Don’t you bat those pretty eyes at me,” she warned in a defensive snarl. “I’m not about to fall for that. And I believe I’ve already told you that I’m hardly your anything - lass, love, darling or otherwise.”

“Very well, Emma,” he enunciated the name ridiculously. “And to answer your earlier query, no, I am not following you. We’re on our way to a vacation rental, and are picking up groceries before we get there. And if I’d known how much you abhor my company, and that you were such a vexatious lass, I wouldn’t have even flirted with you.”

“Well, if I had known you were such a self-righteous prick, I wouldn’t have flirted back,” she snarked, unable to help the little flare of regret that curled in her gut at Killian’s statement of finding her so difficult he would not have even engaged with her had he known. It was the one chink in her armor, ever since she was a child - too guarded, too prickly, too much. It had always been the same when she found herself alone again. Quickly, she shook that regret away and focused back on the current challenge standing before her.

“You want to talk about a self-righteous prick, that would be my brother.”

“Huh?” Emma asked dumbly, not quite following his logic.

Killian gestured down the row nearest them to where the tall, curly-haired captain of the other tour boat–Jones’ older brother, she remembered now–was reaching up to the very highest shelf in the cereal aisle, where Elsa had been trying to grasp a box of her favorite cereal that had toppled over and fallen hopelessly out of her reach. The little tableau took only seconds, but was unarguably sweet, and the bright adoration that lit up Elsa’s face as she turned to thank the elder Jones brother, gave her aspect a stunning beauty the likes of which Emma had never seen from her friend before. When Liam offered what almost looked like the smallest of formal bows to Elsa before continuing on his way, Emma looked back to Killian with a grin, and added, “What, you’re both stuffy and old-fashioned beyond belief?”

He seemed to sense that the mood had shifted and allowed a gentler smile to cross his lips as well. “Aye, something like that, I suppose.”

They had begun to move back toward the front of the store side-by-side, almost without consciously realizing what they were doing. Emma was more than a bit flabbergasted when they reached the front of the market and Killian easily plunked the ice cream into the basket of her cart.

She looked up at him from her seat, surprised and ready to argue again, only to find him looking back at her with a softness that warmed her, even as it discomforted her at the same time. “While it can hardly be deemed my fault that I am so devilishly handsome you couldn’t keep your eyes off me and tripped out of your tour boat, I am always a gentleman. The Rocky Road is yours, Emma.”

Floundering for a moment, and out of her depth, Emma finally settled on a simple, Thank you, before coyly adding, “Maybe you would enjoy something like Rum Raisin more anyway.”

“Think nothing of it,” Killian offered gallantly, and moved to saunter back toward his brother and his group of friends. However, just before he turned away, the more proper facade slipped once more as he teased, “And as a matter of fact, I prefer my rum undiluted…and shared with you, if you’d allow it.” Then, with a wink and a waggle of his eyebrows, he was walking away.

By the time Emma, Mary Margaret, Elsa, and Regina were loading their purchases into the back of Mary Margaret’s Traverse, Emma was getting worried about the state her ice cream would be in when they got back to the cabin. She wondered how Ruby and Belle could have both gotten held up in their shopping when Ruby emerged through the doors of the grocery into the parking lot, walking close enough to Killian’s friend Graham for her arm to brush against his with each step.

The lean muscles of his forearms were on full display as he carried both his own purchases and Ruby’s, and she looked up at him with her red-painted lips curved into a satisfied smile. She clearly appreciated his chivalric efforts as Graham placed the meats and cheeses Ruby had been assigned to gather in the back with the girls’ other shopping bags and stood back to his full height. His eyes already gazed at her with puppy-dog devotion as Ruby allowed her fingernails to trace over his shoulder and down his bicep. What most might not see beyond the overt flirtatiousness – they hadn’t known her as long or as well as Emma had – was just how over the moon the striking brunette already was for this scruffy gentleman as well.

They finally heard Belle coming to join them even before they saw her come through the exit. She was carrying a plastic bag with the condiments and spices she’d had on her list, but she was also brandishing a jar of Polaner All Fruit in her free hand and ranting with her intense librarian’s dedication to facts about just why she had indeed needed to purchase the pricier topping.

“...and it’s all natural, lower sugar, and has a purer taste,” she was saying. Will nodded along with utmost attention, even as the mischievous gleam in his eye could only remind their audience of a junior high boy on the playground who lived to tug on the ponytail of the girl he liked. “Not to mention the fact that the company grows and harvests their berries organically, and that the glass jar is recyclable and more environmentally friendly than plastic.”

“Oi, right ya are,” Will exclaimed, clearly not about to set her off any further. “I only asked if ya needed to buy the ritziest jelly on the shelf. Clearly ya do, so I’ll not say anymore about it.”

Belle startled visibly when they arrived at the Traverse, their friends’chuckles finally registering through her lecture of Will. “Oh, hey guys,” she added almost dazedly with a flattering pink staining the apples of her cheeks.

“Hey yourself,” Ruby simpered with a wolfish grin, “looks like you might have found a rather large extra during your shopping.”

Will’s burst of guffawing laughter set them all off again, and Belle couldn’t help but join in, even at her own expense, before they were all finally on their way to the cabin at last.

*********

Emma was out on the deck enjoying the cool night breeze. She sat in a two person glider, ice on her ankle, after returning to the cabin following the grocery run. It was so quiet and peaceful, Emma could feel her eyelids drooping. It had been a very long day, after all.

Suddenly, the pleasant silence was broken by the slamming of a car door and a familiar voice reaching her ears from the parking area of the cabin next door.

No. Way. She thought, rising from the glider and hobbling to the railing. Looking down, she saw the unmistakable backside of Killian Jones as he reached into the back of a black SUV for a suitcase. As soon as he set it on the ground, Emma backed away from the railing, hoping against hope it was dark enough that if he were to turn around and look up, he wouldn’t see her.

He reached back in, and Emma returned to the railing just to get another glimpse of him. She’d deny it to her dying breath to anyone who asked, but she wasn’t enough of a self deluding fool to lie to herself. The man was breathtakingly handsome and the thought of living right next door to him for an entire week was enough to send her pulse into overdrive.

She hobbled back into the house, drawing everyone’s attention as soon as she came in the door.

“Killian Jones is next door!” she exclaimed. There was a chorus of Whats, but Emma didn’t miss the way Ruby, Elsa, and Belle all either lit up or blushed furiously, realizing immediately that their respective guys were probably going to be at the same cabin. Mary Margaret was just suggesting they go next door and say hi, when she was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Regina was closest, so she opened the door to find a tall, huskily built man with light brown hair and a mustache and closely trimmed scruff on his jawline. Regina’s heart rate picked up, but she quickly schooled her features. It wouldn’t do to swoon at the feet of a stranger.

“May I help you?” she asked. His smile lit up his face when his eyes landed on her. Yep, it was a good thing she could slip into her queen persona-–an affectionate nickname the girls had given her back in college and that she’d continued to hone during law school–at the drop of a hat.

The man stepped into the room with his hand held out in front of him. Regina looked down her nose at the offering, her eyebrows raised nearly to her hairline. He cleared his throat and dropped his hand, his gaze going around the room.

“Good evening, ladies,” he said, congenially. “I’m Robin Locksley, owner of Sherwood Forest Resort and I just wanted to say welcome and to see if everything was in order for you.”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Locksley,” Mary Margaret said enthusiastically.

“Please, please,” he interrupted. “Call me Robin.”

“Of course, Robin,” she replied. “I’m Mary Margaret.” She then continued introductions around the room, motioning to each of the ladies in turn.

Robin nodded to each one before coming forward and shaking their hands. He greeted Regina last, and with a mischievous smirk on his face, he lifted her hand to his lips. “Milady,” he murmured before brushing them across her knuckles.

Regina couldn’t help the way her heart thundered in her chest at his boldness, but she’d be damned if she let him see it. She lifted her chin slightly and raised a single eyebrow at him, a move that would have lesser men shaking in their boots, but didn’t seem to phase him at all, his smirk widening just a bit.

“If I can help you with anything,” he said, his gaze still firmly on Regina, “please don’t hesitate to ask. My cabin is the one on the other side of your neighbors.” He pointed to where they knew the guys were staying.

“Thank you so much, Robin,” Mary Margaret replied. “We certainly will. We were just going to go next door and say hi. We met the guys staying there this morning at the Lost Boys Cave Tour in Bowling Green before driving here this afternoon.”

“Did you really?” Robin asked, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “What a small world. They’re all friends of mine. Liam and I were college roommates, so I’ve known Killian since he was a teenager. Graham and Will work with them at the cave and so a few years back, they started joining Liam and Killian when they’d come here for a visit a couple of times a year.”

“Wow!” Ruby exclaimed. “A small world, indeed. Tell me, Robin,” she continued, glancing at Belle and Elsa before she spoke, “Are all the guys single?”

Robin smirked again and his eyes twinkled. “I am unaware of any romantic attachments for any of them.”

Ruby’s grin was brighter than the sun at his words. He bowed his head slightly and gave a small two fingered salute as he wished them a good evening and departed.

As soon as he was gone, Mary Margaret shot Regina a serious look.

“There’s that wall again, Regina,” she said, shaking her head slightly.

Regina’s head whipped around so quickly, she was surprised her neck didn’t crack.

“What are you talking about?”

Mary Margaret came over to her friend and put an arm around her shoulders. Regina stiffened but didn’t pull away.

“That wall you put up to keep out pain,” Mary Margaret continued, “can also keep out possibilities.” Regina scoffed. “He was very handsome and obviously interested in you.”

“He smells like forest,” Regina said. “If you think he’s so handsome, why don’t you go after him?”

“Because he didn’t look twice at me,” she replied, exasperation coloring her words. “Just keep it in mind, please, Regina,” she urged her friend. “I know you have a wonderful future ahead of you no matter where you decide to go, but love is a part of all happiness, and Pigeon Forge is less than an hour from Knoxville.”

Regina rolled her eyes. “That would probably be a strike in the Knoxville column instead of a plus, just so you know.”

Mary Margaret squeezed her shoulder. “Promise me you won’t rule it out altogether, Regina. Just see what happens.” Their friends around the room were nodding and voicing their own agreement to Mary Margaret’s words. “But for now, let’s go next door and say hi.”

She let Regina go and led the way out the door and across to the cabin next door. Once they were all on the porch, Emma being helped by Belle and Elsa, Mary Margaret knocked firmly on the door.

It was opened by a tall, well-built blonde man who immediately stole Mary Margaret’s breath.

“Uh… I’m so sorry…” she stammered, looking around at her friends, her eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. “We were… ah…”

“What she means to say,” Ruby interjected, when it became clear Mary Margaret was at a complete loss for words, “is we were looking for Killian and Graham.”

The man smiled and Mary Margaret was afraid her knees would buckle. He opened the door wider, inviting them all in. “Of course,” he said. “I’m David Nolan and I don’t believe we’ve met…” he trailed away, his eyes never leaving Mary Margaret’s as he offered her his hand.

“Mary Margaret Blanchard,” she breathed, putting her hand in his to shake it.

“Lovely to meet you, Mary Margaret.” He turned to the other ladies still standing on the porch. “Please come in.”

The ladies filed in to see all the other men they’d already met around the room. Liam was in the kitchen and when he turned toward the door, his blue eyes immediately softened when they landed on Elsa. Graham and Robin rose from their seats in the living room at the entrance of the ladies, with Will remaining in his seat and looking at the others with a confused look on his face. Graham smacked him on the side of the head, jerking his own head toward the women at the door. Will scrambled to his feet as Killian came down the stairs to a much fuller room than what he’d left a few minutes before.

Everyone squirmed a bit in the awkward silence, until Ruby sauntered over to Graham and looped her arm through his.

“Is this a small world or what?” she asked. Her question broke the ice and all the men invited the ladies to take a seat. Regina remembered Mary Margaret’s words but wouldn’t meet Robin’s eyes when she moved to sit down at the bar separating the kitchen area from the rest of the room. Killian couldn’t take his eyes off of Emma as he approached her.

“Here, Emma,” he said, his hand hovering by her elbow, “let me help you to a chair.”

“I don’t need help,” she insisted, hobbling toward the nearest armchair. Once she was seated, she couldn’t suppress the sigh of relief from being off of her ankle.

“May I bring you an ice pack to put on your ankle?” he asked.

Emma sighed resignedly. She knew she was being short with him, but she just couldn’t get past the embarrassment of the accident in the first place, and then his conciliatory actions at the grocery store earlier. She knew she needed to try a little harder with him, even if it was annoying her in the extreme to have to do so.

“That would be great. Thank you, Killian.”

Once everyone was settled, conversation flowed naturally among the friends. The connection between the men was more fully explained and when David told them he was the booking manager for Sherwood Forest Resort, Mary Margaret exclaimed excitedly, “I thought your voice sounded familiar! You’re the one I talked to when I booked the cabin!” David grinned.

“Where’s Roland tonight, Robin?” Liam asked. “That’s Robin’s five year old son,” he explained to the ladies.

“He spent the day swimming and nearly fell asleep in his spaghetti tonight,” Robin explained, glancing at Regina to gauge her reaction. “I put him to bed before coming over to meet and welcome the ladies to Sherwood Forest.”

“So will we get a chance to meet him and your wife sometime this week?” Regina asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

The light dimmed a bit in Robin’s eyes. “Actually, I’ve been a widower since Roland was just a few months old.”

The girls murmured words of sympathy, but Belle couldn’t mask her shock. “You left a small child asleep in the house all by himself?”

“This is a gated community, my dear,” he assured her, “if you’ll remember from when you arrived this evening. He is also a very heavy sleeper. A tornado siren a mile away won’t wake him.” He pulled out his phone, tapped an app and displayed the screen, which showed a grainy picture of a room with a dark-haired boy sleeping in the bed. “But just in case, I use this app if I’m called away at night for some reason. He can talk to me and he can hear me through it, too.” He looked across the room at the clock hanging on the wall. “But it has been about twenty minutes since I put him to bed, so I’d better be heading back,” he said, rising from his seat.

Everyone took that as the signal that the evening was drawing to an end. The ladies all rose and bid the men goodnight. Emma couldn’t hide her smirk at the longing looks between Ruby and Graham, Elsa and Liam, Mary Margaret and David, and even Belle and Will, though she was a little more circumspect than him. She had a feeling this was going to be a fun week.

*********

“Good morning, Granny,” Ruby greeted, giving her grandmother a tight squeeze upon entering her diner.

“ ‘Bout time you graced me with your presence,” the old woman grumbled, though they could clearly hear the affection in her voice. “Couldn’t bother to come see me when you got into town yesterday?”

“We were otherwise occupied,” Ruby replied, glancing around at her companions, who looked a bit sheepish at the admonishment from their beloved matriarch.

Mary Margaret hugged Granny. “We’re sorry. We were busy unpacking, deciding on sleeping arrangements, and getting groceries,” she apologized.

“And meeting our annoying neighbors,” Emma added, limping over to take her turn for a hug.

“What did you do to yourself?” Granny asked, concern coloring her normally stern exterior.

Emma shrugged. “Just twisted my ankle on the cave tour. It’s nothing.”

The rest of the girls shared a hug with Ruby’s grandmother and settled in at a table close to Granny’s famous breakfast buffet. They were just placing their drink orders, when they heard several boisterous and familiar voices coming from the entryway of the restaurant.

Emma looked over her shoulder to check out the commotion. “You’ve got to be freaking kidding me,” she groaned.

The others turned to see the group of men and a little boy they assumed to be Roland waiting at the hostess stand. Ruby gave a squeal of happiness, while Elsa and Mary Margaret sported soft smiles.

Regina rolled her eyes. “Are they stalking us? There are literally dozens of restaurants that serve breakfast around here.”

“None as good as Granny’s, though,” Ruby said, her eyes lighting up as Graham looked up and noticed her.

As the ladies watched, Granny greeted each man with a hug and picked Roland up for an affectionate squeeze, kissing him on his dimpled cheek.

“Wait a minute,” Belle said, a puzzled tone to her voice. “How does Granny know them?”

“Liam did say they come here a couple of times a year to visit Robin,” Elsa said. “Maybe they make a habit of eating at Granny’s.”

David approached their table, his eyes trained on Mary Margaret. “Good morning, ladies. Mind if I join you?” he asked, reaching for a nearby chair.

As Mary Margaret gave her approval, Ruby jumped up. “You can have my seat. I’ll sit with Graham. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“As if he has a choice,” Emma muttered.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Will grinned, stepping to the end of the table to scan the occupants, his eyes settling on Belle.

“Granny is Ruby’s grandmother,” she explained.

Will’s thick brows shot up. “As in Granny of Granny’s Diner?”

“Can’t put anything past you, can we?” Regina snarked. “Why are you here?”

“Robin discovered this place when he inherited the resort from his parents many years ago, and he recommends it to all of his guests. We eat here every time we visit. Granny loves us,” Will proclaimed.

“I honestly thought she had better judgment than that,” Emma said.

“Hello, Love,” Killian greeted her, as the rest of the men said their hellos. “Excuse me. I meant, hello, Emma.”

Despite her admonishments to the contrary, Emma found she really didn’t mind him calling her his love, but she wasn’t quite ready to admit it to him. “Hi, Killian. Sleep well?” she asked, mentally facepalming over such a trite question.

He smirked, seeming to read her mind. “Aye, in spite of sleeping alone, and having to listen to Will’s snores coming through the wall.”

She covered her giggle with her hand, then pushed her chair away from the table. “I’m going to the buffet before all of you get there and demolish it.”

He stepped aside to let her pass, brushing the small of her back with his hand as she did. Trying not to shiver at his touch, she threw him a small smile and proceeded to the buffet.

When everyone’s plates were full and they were eating, Granny busied herself keeping everyone’s drinks filled and directing the busboys to clear the tables of dirty plates. Carefully watching the people at both tables over the top of her glasses, she made several observations. She had known Robin’s friends for nearly a decade, and Ruby’s group of friends for almost as long, so she was good at reading all of them. What she saw made her heart swell with happiness. Some of them may be fighting it, but she could see some interesting developments going on.

Ruby sat as close to Graham as possible without actually being in his lap. Granny had witnessed her granddaughter’s interest in many boys and young men as she raised her, but she was confident that she had never seen a more smitten look on the brunette’s face before. Ruby looked at Graham as though he’d hung every celestial body in the Heavenly realms, and Granny was very pleased to see it. The sandy haired Irishman was always such a gentleman and made Granny’s own heart speed up a bit when he looked at her with those deep blue eyes and curled his accent smoothly around every word he spoke.

The old woman smiled, sensing the bubble of mutual attraction surrounding David and Mary Margaret. Ever since he came to work for Robin three years ago, Granny had been trying to set him up with her favorite waitresses, to no avail. Now, she could see why. If he had been waiting for his soulmate, he seemed to have found her in Mary Margaret, whose sparkling green eyes looked adoringly at the handsome man beside her.

Granny saw much the same look on the faces of Liam and Elsa. Both of them were the oldest sibling in their family and tended to be quite serious and responsible, allowing little time for romance. Judging by their side-eye glances and shared smiles, Granny was sure they would be able to find the time now.

Something whizzed by her line of sight and Granny looked over to see Will getting ready to throw another chunk of potato in Belle’s direction. Marching over to him, Granny whacked him on the back of the head. “Go pick it up and find a better way to flirt,” she demanded.

“Me poor head,” he groaned, rubbing it as he stood up to do as he was told.

Granny shook her head fondly, taking in the shy smile Belle gave Will when he bent to pick up the potato which had landed behind her chair. They chatted for a while and Granny was pleased to hear Belle’s genuine laugh again. Granny never liked the man who previously dated the auburn-haired beauty. He treated her shabbily, and Granny wasn’t at all unhappy when she finally broke it off with him, although she knew Belle was heartbroken. Perhaps Will, in his own clumsy but endearing way, could help mend her heart.

When she was refilling Regina’s mug of coffee, Granny caught the glance she was slyly sending Robin’s way. “He’s a good man, that one,” she said quietly.

Regina quickly averted her eyes and straightened in her seat. “I’m sure he is, but he’s not my type. I’m not into mountain men.”

“Scoff all you like, Miss Priss, but you’re not gonna meet a better man than Robin Locksley, I can guarantee you that. He’s a hard worker and a good father, and I don’t think I’m stepping out of line by saying that he seems more than a little interested in you.”

Regina folded her hands on the placemat in front of her, her expression giving away nothing, but her cheeks reddening. “I don’t even know where I’m going to end up living.”

“Well, I’d say Robin would be in the pros column for taking the job in Knoxville,” Granny said, then moved on to refill Emma’s coffee. “And what about you, young lady?” she asked.

“What about me?” Emma questioned, her brows drawing together quizzically.

“Don’t think I haven’t seen those looks you’ve been giving Killian Jones, and that he’s giving back to you. It’s a wonder this place hasn’t gone up in flames from the heat of ‘em.”

Emma blushed furiously. “There’s nothing between me and Killian.”

“Huh, never known ya to lie to me before,” Granny harrumphed. “You wanna look me in the eye and try that again?”

Slumping in her seat, Emma chewed on her bottom lip, before quietly admitting, “Maybe I am just…a little attracted to him.”

“If that’s a little, I’m interested to see what’s a lot,” the old woman chuckled.

Leaving the ladies’ table, she passed by the men’s, ruffling Roland’s curls along the way.

The little boy turned to grin at her, then popped up out of his seat. “I’m gonna get another pancake, Papa,” he declared. Robin started to rise from his seat to help him. “I can get it, I’m five now,” Roland told him proudly.

Robin kept a protective eye on his son, even though there were few patrons in the diner besides the two tables of cabin neighbors. Roland was just tall enough to reach the tongs in the tray of pancakes, standing on his tiptoes to grab one and put it on his plate. His father held his breath as Roland dipped the ladle into the syrup and dripped it across the edge of the buffet to pour it on his pancake, turning to give Robin a gap toothed grin when he succeeded.

After breathing a sigh of relief, Robin’s eyes drifted to the other side of the buffet to see Regina filling a plate with apple slices. She returned the tongs and started to walk back to her seat, when she stopped in her tracks. Roland was peeking around the end of the buffet at her and Robin felt a lump in his throat when the lovely, raven-haired woman smiled sweetly at his son and bent down to say something to him. Then she stood up and looked his way, giving him a demure smile before walking past him.

Roland carefully carried his plate back to the table, dimples flashing. “Guess what that pretty lady just said to me,” he beamed.

“What did she say?” Robin asked.

The little boy puffed out his chest proudly. “She said I must be a very big boy to be able to get my own food, and I am, right, Papa?”

Robin put his arm around his son’s shoulder and kissed the top of his head. “Yes, you are and you’re growing up far too fast.”

“That’s right, Rolly Polly,” Will said, reaching across the table to pinch his cheek. “Yer practically ready to start datin’!”

Roland’s giggle drew Belle’s attention and she smiled softly at the exchange between the flirty Brit and the adorable little boy.

From her spot by the drink counter, Granny’s gaze swept over the group of people seated at the two tables and she folded her arms across her chest, a smug smile on her face.

********

Later that same afternoon, just about the time to begin fixing dinner, David called the rest of the guys into their shared kitchen, where he and Robin stood waiting until all of them had gathered. When the other five men were scattered around the room and listening, David began earnestly, his eagerness all too clear, to explain their plan.

“Guys, I know this is a retreat where we plan to spend time together and reconnect each year. Life isn’t easy, and real friendships are few and far between. I’m not denying the importance of that at all, but Rob and I, well,” he said, glancing at his friend and boss, “we’re more than a bit anxious to see if the lovely ladies next door might fit into our lives beyond this week… and….well, I guess we’re trying to see how the rest of you feel about including them in our cookout tonight for instance.”

“Or if they might be game for taking a stab at the escape room on the Island when we go at the end of the week,” Robin added helpfully.

Graham didn’t immediately speak, but he flushed from the top of his head to where his skin was hidden by the collar of his shirt. Killian realized from where he stood to Graham’s right that the other man appeared to have a rather interesting bruise just nearly, but not quite, hidden by the material where his neck met his shoulder. Shaking his head in defeat, he knew that was one definite vote for Dave and Rob’s suggestion.

Will’s cheeky grin and enthusiastic agreement with their proposal was no surprise either. “Sounds great, lads! Wish I’d thought of it meself!”

Even Liam, who could be standoffish and whom Killian had thought would be at least one other person in his corner, seemed uncharacteristically in favor of the idea. “That does seem like a good and neighborly suggestion. In fact, it’s about late enough to get the fire started, and then I’ll go next door and see if they’re interested in joining us for hot dogs and s’mores.”

All of them, except Killian, were in agreement, and their short meeting was adjourned. It wasn’t that he disliked any of the ladies in the adjacent cabin, and his heart thrilled at the prospect of seeing–and flirting with–Emma again, but he wasn’t at all sure his attentions were welcomed. He wasn’t the sort to force himself on a lady, not when she clearly had her reasons for remaining aloof. However, he was grossly outvoted and it seemed this joining of their groups was happening, whether he climbed onboard or not.

*********

Some minutes later, Elsa wandered across the grass behind her and her friends’ cabin as it sloped into the adjoining space occupied by the men they kept running into. She could see the broad-shouldered elder Jones brother just starting preparation for a bonfire, and though she wasn’t at all sure it was wise, Elsa quickened her step to reach him and offer him a hand. Though she could never be as outspoken or as wildly enthusiastic as Ruby, there couldn’t be anything wrong with offering her assistance. That was what she told herself anyway as she drew near enough to capture the intriguing man’s attention.

“Why, hello, Lass,” Liam greeted heartily, straightening to swipe his forearm across his damp brow and offer her a twinkling smile. “Pleasant surprise seeing you here.”

Elsa felt the grin that stretched across her lips in return, surprised by how easy he was to speak to, despite his powerful manner and imposing stature. None of the usual tongue-tied uncertainty seemed to trouble her in Liam’s company, and it was a genuine relief to experience. “I was enjoying the view out here and taking in the evening air when I saw you. Can I help?”

Undoubtedly he would have been just fine on his own, but Liam happily showed her how he was making a domed bed of the small kindling to start the fire effectively, and as Elsa carried on from where he left off, Liam made three trips back and forth up the gentle rise to the back of their cabin, where already cut firewood was stacked, bringing enough back to keep what would hopefully be a cozy blaze for roasting hot dogs and marshmallows going all evening.

Once the fire was truly started, Elsa found herself hesitating five minutes, then fifteen, and eventually half an hour, before going to tell the rest of the girls that they were welcome to join the guys’ cookout if they wished. She was entirely too comfortable there on the log beside Liam, feeling his leg and hip pressed against hers, and enjoying the rise and fall of his voice as he spoke about his and Killian’s upbringing, how they had both come to live in America, how he’d met and ended up rooming with Robin in college, and hilarious stories from his time working the cave boating tours.

It was only once the other guys began to make their way out to the now-crackling bonfire with roasting sticks, hot dogs, buns, and fixings, that she finally stood and went to see if she could find her own cabin mates. She could almost envision how that would go anyway–Ruby would be there before she could get the invitation out, Mary Margaret practically skipping after her with her besotted heart eyes glowing, Belle would join readily enough as well, surely anxious to educate Will Scarlet on some aspect of camping, outdoor cooking, or hot dog manufacturing of which he was unaware. Emma and Regina would trail along, trying stubbornly not to seem overeager. Regina would probably try to claim she didn’t want her clothes to smell of woodsmoke, and Emma would swear she was only joining in because she wasn’t about to turn down melty chocolate and marshmallow sandwiched in cinnamon-y goodness.

Finishing the evening some hours later, Elsa looked around the fire in the starlight at the relaxed and happy faces of her dearest friends, and the attentive gazes each of them was drawing from a handsome and worthy man, and she couldn’t feel anything but gratitude. She would never have thought that two days into their annual girls’ trip she would be leaning her head on the shoulder of a handsome tour guide whose voice was tickling the fine hairs near her ear as he whispered added commentary to the rousing ghost story Will was regaling the group with. That sensation combined with his arm going round her sent shivers skittering all the way down to her toes in the most pleasant of ways. If this was what being a bit more forward got her, she would have to make more of a habit of it.

*********

On their third day of the trip, various members of their groups paired off to accomplish different things they had hoped to see and do. Liam, Killian, and David helped Robin with some simple cabin maintenance jobs against his protests, as a sort of thank you for his providing them such a perfect place to stay virtually free of charge. Graham had been willingly pulled along with Ruby as she went shopping for clothes and souvenirs along the main drag of the tourist town, and Will had just as happily tagged along with Belle as she set out to fully explore the “Original” Book Warehouse.

Mary Margaret and Regina were upstairs on the cabin’s second story deck, taking in the fresh air and the view as they caught up with each other. Emma was the only one essentially stuck inside as she didn’t really feel like limping along and slowing down any of the others as they made their excursions. She was sitting in a chair in the main living room of the cabin, ankle propped up on a footstool, distractedly perusing the same magazine page repeatedly. They had left the door open between the room and the deck so that she could call out to Mary Margaret and Regina occasionally, and they to her, and so that she could at least enjoy the mountain breeze and feel part of the conversation, but it had been fairly quiet from her friends for several minutes, and Emma could admit that she was feeling bored and sorry for herself.

Just then there was a startling sound of wings beating, and Emma ducked instinctively even as she felt the sensation of something swooping wildly over her head. To her dismayed surprise, a frantic bird had flown in from outside and was now sailing from one corner of the room to another in a confused effort to find its way back to freedom. Emma almost jumped up and made for another room, before remembering the swollen ankle hampering her and screeching in alarm as the bird sailed right over her head once more.

“Out! Get Out!” she yelled, flailing, trying to steer the winged creature back the way it had come.

By the time Mary Margaret and Regina came in from outdoors, Emma had managed to stand and was hopping on one foot as she tried to reach for the broom propped in the corner to swipe at their uninvited guest. Moments later, they heard the front door below fly open and heavy footsteps came pounding up the stairs as David barrelled into sight, having heard Emma’s cries from down on the drive between their houses.

He grasped the situation more quickly than the rest of them had, taking in Mary Margaret’s pleading, “Oh Emma, don’t hurt it! It’s confused and it’s only a baby!” Regina standing in one corner, slightly behind the coat rack and out of the bird’s range, watching the mayhem with a bemused expression, and Emma swiping a broom around ineffectually as off-balance as she was, trying to herd a terrified warbler toward the open door while yelling at her friend, “Enough! I don’t want it taking a crap on my head!”

Thankfully, the jostled songbird finally lit on a bear figurine atop the mantle. With it no longer fluttering over their heads, the ladies calmed down significantly, and David stepped over Emma’s dropped magazine and displaced chair cushion to carefully snatch the bird with practiced stealth, pinning its wings to its sides without harming them, before it could take off again. It wasn’t the first misguided creature he’d removed from someone’s rental in the time he’d worked with Robin, and it wouldn’t be the last, he thought wryly as he opened his hands outside the door, letting the bird make its escape.

He’d never received such a pleasant reward for his efforts though, he thought, as he turned back around to see Mary Margaret Blanchard gazing up at him as if he had given her the stars from the sky. Emma offered him a sheepish thanks and flopped back into the chair she had vacated with a winded thump, while Regina brought the pillow to her and helped her resituate her foot, but David really only had eyes for the tiny pixie haired beauty before him, her sweet smile wrapping him all up in knots and ever more tightly around her little finger.

“Thank you,” she murmured, coming to stand so close in front of him that she had to tilt her head up to look him in the face, the tips of her cute little canvas flats touching the toes of his scuffed work boots. “My hero, as well as that poor little bird’s.”

Just then, with her twinkling green eyes drinking him in like that, David really did feel like he could take on the world.

************

The following morning was pretty quiet. Both guys’ and gals’ groups were cooking their own breakfasts and lunches that day and staying around their cabins; there was plenty to see right within the Sherwood Forest Resort. Graham had gotten Robin’s advice on the best scenic hiking trails, which he was anxious to show Ruby. Robin was taking Roland down to the pool on their premises, and David, Mary Margaret, and even Regina, were tagging along with them to take a dip and do some sunbathing.

Belle, meanwhile, was having a bit of quiet time to herself. She loved her friends and looked forward to the time they spent together each year, but she was also dying to make use of the gorgeous view of the Smokies outside the huge window in her room to curl up for just an hour or two with a good book. She had thrown so much of herself into her failed relationship, that when it fell apart, it felt like her whole world went with it.

She set her book down unopened, suddenly realizing that she hadn’t thought about Robert once this week. Maybe, just maybe, she was finally starting to heal…and a lot of it was courtesy of Will Scarlet. There was no doubt he could try her patience with the best of them, but he was honest and funny and there was a genuinely sweet side to him. She never would have thought it when they first met at the beginning of the week, but she honestly thought he was a man who could be depended upon.

Her musings were interrupted by the sound of rustling leaves and something that sounded like a grunt of exertion. Belle froze. Someone or something was climbing the tall tree that stood just outside her second story bedroom window. What should she do? Should she call for help? Should she hide?

No. She had always read stories of heroes facing their fears to defeat the villains. It was about time she did the same. Looking around, she grabbed the first weapon-like item she could find–a large, bronze candlestick that sat on the mantle above her room’s fireplace.

“Alright, Lumiere,” she muttered, “let’s put the fear of God into whoever is trying to break into our room.”

Taking one more deep breath, she opened the blinds and took a look outside. She was greeted with none other than Will Scarlet smiling like an idiot as he dangled…something from his outstretched hand.

Belle looked closer and saw what appeared to be the wriggling body of a big, hairy spider, just before he dropped it on her window sill. Screaming bloody murder, she jumped back, feeling as though she was about to faint. If there was one thing in the entire world she could not stand, it was a spider. With their eight legs and multiple eyes, their affinity for biting and trapping their prey in their webs, they were more than scary. They were terrifying.

“Hey, Belle,” Will said from the other side of the window. “I didn’t mean anything by it; it was just a harmless prank. I’m sorry I scared you! I’m sorry I–AAAAGH!”

Belle rushed to the window, her heart nearly stopping for an entirely different reason as she saw Will lose his grip on the tree branch and go plummeting to the ground, landing with a thud.

Belle screamed again.

“What? What is it? What happened?” Emma demanded rushing into the room, looking around as though she was expecting an intruder.

“It’s…it’s Will!” Belle said, gesturing to the window.

“It’s…what?” Emma asked.

Belle looked out the window again and breathed a sigh of relief as she saw Will groan and get to his feet, rubbing the back of his head. Immediate crisis averted, Belle’s heart rate went back to normal, and her senses returned. In a few short sentences, she told Emma the entire story–from hearing the noise, to seeing Will dangling the spider (which she could now see was just a very convincing fake), to Will plummeting from his perch.

Emma’s face darkened as she heard the tale, and when it was at an end, she scooped the fake spider into her hands and marched out of the room muttering something under her breath about shoving it down Will’s throat.

Belle watched as Emma confronted the prankster. “What the hell were you thinking?” she asked. “She’s terrified of spiders. Like, hyperventilating, fainting terrified. I get that you like her, but stop acting like a fifth grader!”

She growled once more, and then slapped him upside the head.

“Ow!” he complained. “Lay off the noggin!”

“Why?” she retorted. “From the way you act, I’d swear there’s nothing in it anyway!”

Belle grinned, as Will stalked back to his cabin, muttering under his breath all the way and Emma shook her head and went back inside.

An hour later, there was a knock at the girls’ cabin door. Belle opened it to find a single, thornless, red rose accompanied by a small note card that said simply ‘Belle, I’m sorry I’m an idiot. Will’

*********

On the fourth day of their vacation, Emma ventured out onto the front walk about midmorning, finally feeling her ankle was strong enough to take a short stroll and enjoy the gorgeous weather they’d been having all week. She could still feel a twinge of the sprain, but she was tired of being cooped up, and she wanted to enjoy at least a little of the trip before it was over.

Before she could get started, Regina came out.

“Where are you going?”

“I thought I’d take a short walk. You want to join me?” she asked.

Regina looked torn, and it wasn’t hard for Emma to guess what she was thinking. It was clear to all the ladies in their group that Regina really liked Robin, but she’d been essentially raised by a series of nannies and sitters because her rich parents couldn’t be bothered to actually be parents for their only child, or to spend any amount of time with her, and so she’d learned early in her life to keep her heart well protected from those who could hurt her. It had taken years for Emma and the others to get behind that formidable exterior she showed most of the world, to really get to know and love the woman underneath. And now, not knowing where she was going to end up beginning her career, she didn’t want to open herself up to possible heartbreak with the handsome owner of the resort.

Emma smiled, looped her arm through Regina’s, and pulled her along.

“Come on,” she cajoled. “Getting outside will do you some good, too.”

Regina rolled her eyes and acquiesced. They started walking down the hill toward the resort pool until they could see Robin’s cabin. As they got closer, they could see him around the corner on his knees, his hands buried in the dirt of a flower bed. Regina stopped and Emma stopped with her, her heart hurting at the anxiety on the face of her friend.

Emma took her hand. “Regina,” she said quietly, “I know you’re apprehensive, and don’t want to get attached, but we’ve gotten to know him a little bit this week and you have Granny’s endorsement as well. You should spend some time with him and just see. Even if you don’t end up in Knoxville, you can keep in touch with him and take things slow, just to see where it might lead. Life is unpredictable, and you have so many years ahead of you, you shouldn’t close the door on an opportunity like this when it could lead to something truly wonderful.”

Emma watched her friend and could see the indecision in her eyes. But then her gaze turned cunning and a slow smile lifted the corner of her lips.

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll go say hi and see about spending some time with him, but only if you promise to do the same with Killian.”

Emma pressed her lips together in a thin line. She’d walked right into that one and no mistake. There was nothing for it though, so Emma nodded.

“Fine,” she said.

Regina nodded with a self-satisfied smile and walked over to where Robin still dug in the dirt. As she got closer, she noticed Roland on the other side of him copying everything he was doing.

Regina’s smile turned genuine when Roland looked up and saw her.

“Hi, Miss Gina!” he exclaimed excitedly.

“Hi there,” she replied. “What are you guys doing?”

“We’re planting begonias,” Roland said proudly. “Want to help us?” Robin sat back on his haunches and beamed up at her.

Regina’s cheeks heated. “Oh, I really shouldn’t…” she began.

“But, why not?” Roland asked at the same time as his father said “You’d be more than welcome.”

Regina cut her eyes to Robin and smiled shyly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Are you sure? I don’t know anything about plants.”

Robin’s grin softened a bit and he patted the ground next to him. “There’s nothing to it. Here, let me show you.”

Regina knelt next to Robin and thought about Emma’s and Mary Margaret’s words at the beginning of the week. Growing things took time and effort and at the end, you had a lovely flowering plant that brought beauty, happiness, and joy. Perhaps she was ready to invest some time and effort into a relationship. She had nothing to lose and everything to gain–perhaps love and true happiness with someone who wouldn’t leave her. Regina turned to Robin and gave him a real and happy smile as she joined them in their gardening.

Emma watched as Regina knelt next to Robin and smiled to herself. She had a really good feeling about them, and the job opportunity in Knoxville. She only hoped that Regina would follow where her heart was clearly leading.

Emma turned around and pondered whether she wanted to continue walking down to where the pool and playgrounds were located at the resort entrance, or if she wanted to meander up the drive a ways and see if there were any different views further up the road, when she caught a glimpse of a figure sitting alone in one of the Adirondack chairs which lined the guys’ front porch. It was Killian, looking pensive as he cradled a coffee mug and stared out at the hilltop and sky panorama before him.

Emma nearly turned in the other direction, not wanting to disturb him if he wished to be alone, but then reconsidered. First of all, she’d just made a promise to Regina. Secondly, she’d given Jones an awfully hard time this whole week. And now he looked rather lonely and as though he might welcome some company. Tentatively, she moved toward the boys’ cabin, greeting him quietly when she reached the first step. “Morning, neighbor.”

With a little start, Killian turned away from his perusal of the sky, to meet her gaze and return her smile with one of his own. The crooked curve of it sent ribbons of awareness curling inside her, all the more disarming because he seemed less aware of its power in the stark morning light. “Permission to join you?” she asked playfully, as if asking a captain to board his ship.

The jest seemed to work as she had hoped, the blue of Killian’s eyes twinkling as he nodded and gestured to the seat next to him, “Permission granted.”

Settling in next to him, they both enjoyed the comfortable quiet for a few moments more. However, Emma couldn’t stay that way for long; she was too aware of his presence beside her, his very nearness feeling as though it tingled along her nerve endings deliciously. If her physical reaction to him wasn’t quite so visceral, she wouldn’t have been fighting so hard to shut down all the attempts at genuine friendship he had offered her these last few days. Finally, she drew in a deep breath and gave voice to her swirling thoughts. “Hey, Killian? You’ve probably figured out by now that I’m not exactly very trusting, or even especially welcoming to people I don’t know all that well. I know you didn’t intend for me to get hurt at the end of the boat tour, and you were only trying to help me as much as I would let you afterwards. I was enjoying the flirtation we had going, and I was embarrassed–badly.” She sighed, looking down at her fingers twisted together in her lap. “I didn’t handle it very well, needless to say. But that wasn’t your fault. I think I’ve been taking my disappointment out on you, and I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

A moment later, Killian’s hand reached over to cover her own warmly, giving it a gentle squeeze as she looked up only to be captured in his overwhelming gaze. “Emma,” he said her name as though savoring each letter of it on his tongue, “no apologies are necessary. We all have our stories and scars, and the beginnings that have made us who we are. Perhaps, if you’ll allow me, I may know more of yours in time.” He paused briefly, eyebrow quirking as if asking permission to go on, not wanting to push too far against the barriers of their newfound truce. “I’m only glad to know I haven’t turned your opinion against me permanently.”

Emma’s grin spread across her face of its own accord, her happiness suddenly infectious and spreading out to engulf her completely. Returning the pressure of his hand on hers, she replied. “I think we understand each other perfectly.”

***********

That evening the two groups gathered at the gentlemen’s cabin for a loudly competitive game night. The next day would see them exploring the shops and attractions of The Island before their planned attempt at the escape room. Several pleasant hours flew by before Elsa found that as much as she was enjoying the company, she could hardly keep her eyes open any longer.

Bidding those still playing a ‘good night’ and telling the rest of her cabinmates she would see them in the morning, Elsa stood and gathered her things to head across the lawn and to her own bed. She didn’t mind at all, however, when Liam stood as well and followed her to the door. “Are you sure you don’t need an escort in the dark, Milady?” he murmured slightly, pressing a close mouthed kiss to her temple.

Elsa savored the press of his lips and the cozy glow of comfort that came with them, but she couldn’t help snickering at his question all the same. “I think I should be alright,” she returned, wrapping her arms around his solid torso for a moment in a parting embrace. “It can’t be more than 15 feet over to our cabin.”

“All the same, flick the porch light once you’re safely in the door, and I’ll flick the light over here in return.” The protective elder brother was showing through again, but she found his concern endearing all the same, and it warmed her heart knowing her safety and well-being were at the forefront of his mind.

Once she had reached the porch, signaled Liam, and gone inside, Elsa made her way slowly across the main room, tidying up things which had gathered on the table and counter, and moving over to the door onto their deck to be sure it was locked. Before she could do so, she heard a noise that caught her attention. She also thought she saw a flicker of light, though she didn’t know who would be out there. She didn’t remember who had left the other cabin before her; she’d really been too sleepy to take much note. But now she was grumpy, tired, and just wanted to make sure things were secure for the night, so when she heard a sort of low groan followed by a breathy giggle, things finally clicked into place in her mind, and she wasn’t feeling a lot of patience for the couple she now realized must be out there making use of the cabin’s hot tub.

Swinging the door open, Elsa stepped out onto the deck, thankfully very barely lit by the moonlight and a single candle, with a stern look and her other hand on her hip. Sure enough, there was a wet and entangled Ruby and Graham in the tub, Graham’s eyes darting around everywhere to avoid meeting hers and Ruby grinning back at her unapologetically. Elsa wasn’t sure if Graham was flushed from the heat of the tub, their activities, or embarrassment at being caught, but the poor guy looked mortified by her presence. Ruby just looked like she wanted to devour him whole. Elsa found herself relieved more than anything, that though it wasn’t much, she could still see the vibrant red ties of her friend’s string bikini showing beneath the dark hair streaming down her back.

“Look, I’m too exhausted for this,” Elsa admonished, slicing her hand through the air to halt the words when Ruby started to interrupt. “You need to take that somewhere else, because others would still like to use this hot tub–for less amorous purposes.”

Ruby just grinned at her shamelessly before quipping, “That’s what the filter’s for. We’ll be done in a little while. Now go away.”

Growling in consternation, Elsa threw up her hands and left them to it. She was not about to lose sleep, or the pleasant buzz she’d been feeling after her goodnight from Liam, over those two and their shenanigans. Ruby was a big girl and could take care of herself. Elsa just hoped Graham would survive.

**********

The day for the escape room had finally arrived. Everyone was up early to eat breakfast before going to The Island on the Pigeon Forge strip. The large entertainment venue was home to amusement park rides, hotels, shopping–lots of shopping–food, and The Escape Game–an escape room that Ruby had found online during the planning phase of the trip. Although the girls hadn’t made definite plans to go, when the guys had mentioned their plans earlier in the week, it was an easy decision to team up.

Instead of all the ladies in one car and all the men in another, Ruby and Mary Margaret suggested that the couples pair off–three in one car and three in the other. Belle and Elsa agreed, so when they all got outside to the vehicles, David, Ruby and Graham, and Robin and Regina all rode in Mary Margaret’s SUV and Elsa, Emma and Killian, and Will and Belle rode in Liam’s Expedition.

The cabins were quite a ways up the side of a mountain and the grade going down into town was steep enough and had enough blind curves that they both followed the 25 mph speed limit and kept a safe distance between them. After Mary Margaret, leading the way, went around a sharp curve and disappeared from sight, a wild turkey suddenly took off flying, only about ten feet away from Liam’s vehicle. Elsa and Emma both screamed at the bird’s proximity, but Liam kept his head and the SUV under control.

It was only a few seconds later that he caught up to Mary Margaret who had stopped in the middle of the road.

“What’s going on?” he asked, turning and looking at Elsa riding shotgun.

“That’s a bear!” exclaimed Will, pointing in between the front seats excitedly.

Sure enough, from where he sat, Liam could just see a black bear climbing up the embankment on the side of the road and into the trees. It took a moment for him to close his mouth and start following Mary Margaret again, who’d started moving as soon as the bear was safely off the road.

Once they all met up in The Island’s parking area and started making their way to the escape room, everyone was talking over each other trying to discuss the bear and wild turkey sighting.

“You must have been driving too fast, Mary Margaret,” Elsa scolded lightly. “The turkey took off and almost hit us after you’d already passed it.” She looked up at Liam next to her and the adoring gaze on the face of her friend made Emma’s heart happy. “But Liam didn’t startle at all; he kept the Expedition completely under control.” Liam preened under her praise.

“I never would have expected to see a live bear,” Mary Margaret said excitedly.

“I didn’t expect to see any bear asses on this trip,” Regina snarked.

David waved his hand around in a dismissive gesture. “You get used to them when you live up here. Not that we see them often, but that’s why we keep locks on the outdoor trash bins to keep the bears out of them.”

By this time, they were at the escape room. They entered the rather nondescript lobby and were welcomed by the attendant.

“What’s the name, please?”

“Jones,” Liam said, stepping up to the counter. “Party of twelve for ‘The Heist’, please.”

“I have you right here, Mr. Jones,” the attendant said.

Once the entire group had signed their waivers, they were ushered to the back and into a decently sized room lined with replicas of famous paintings.

Ruby’s eyes widened comically as she took in the decor. Her background in art had her immediately recognizing every painting in the room. “This is gonna be so great,” she whispered to Graham.

With everyone now gathered in the room, they all turned back to the door. The attendant explained what would happen next and the rules of the escape room. Belle was relieved that if they got stuck, they could ask for help as many times as necessary with no penalty. Will waggled his eyebrows flirtatiously at her.

“We’ll be out of here in no time, me lass,” he declared. “As brilliant as you are, we’ll set the record for the shortest escape time ever.” Belle rolled her eyes at him but could still feel the heat on her cheeks at his praise and belief in her, something that had been in very short supply in her previous relationship.

The attendant left them and they all turned their attention to the screen above the door.

“Hello, Team!” The screen was filled with the face of a man with wire frame glasses and curly red hair. He looked around anxiously for a moment before staring back at the screen at them again. “I only have a few moments to brief you on your assignment. The bypass signal we’re using to speak to you is only good for ninety seconds.” He took a breath and looked around before speaking again. “You’re in the outer office of Dr. George Spencer. Known to most of the world as an art historian and philanthropist, we know the truth. He is nothing more than a black market art thief. He has stolen a priceless Monet from the Louvre. He is out of his office at the moment speaking at a nearby college and will return in exactly one hour. You must be out of his office when he arrives back. Collect the clues and solve the riddles to find the priceless painting. Good luck, Team.”

The screen faded to black and everyone looked at each other. Liam and Elsa, Graham and Ruby immediately moved to the paintings lining the walls of the room looking for clues.

Killian noticed the door they needed to get through had two small cutout doors in it near the top and bottom. They were both locked. The top door had a padlock on it, while the bottom had a combination lock. Suddenly he heard a clattering sound near the entry door. Emma stood in front of a marble bust in the corner, staring down at the floor dumbly.

“What happened, Emma?” he asked, as everyone else’s attention also turned to her.

She bent down and picked up a small, gold metal box from the floor, holding it up for them all to see. “I turned the bust and this fell out,” she explained, popping off the lid to find a key inside.

He took the key from her and moved to the padlocked door. It was a perfect fit and the lock popped right open.

“Well done, Love,” he praised, his smile lighting up his blue eyes as he opened the small door. Emma felt a surge of satisfaction inside and smiled back. From where she was standing, she could see something hanging down in front of the small door they’d just opened, inside the second room, but she ignored it for the moment.

Meanwhile, Mary Margaret was busy checking the frames of the paintings for clues when she gave a little squeak. “It opens!” she exclaimed, swinging the framed painting away from the wall.

“OW!” Will shouted, as the painting connected with his head. Everyone in the room burst into laughter, while Belle tried to soothe him.

“Your head certainly has taken a beating this week,” she said, trying to suppress a laugh herself.

“Look, there’s a numbered keypad here,” David said, “to open this safe.” He pointed to the spot on the wall revealed when the painting was moved.

“Try these numbers,” Graham called out. “7-1-4-3.”

David punched them in and a green light flashed. Mary Margaret twisted a black knob and pulled open the door of the safe. “A mirror!” she cried, holding the object aloft.

Emma took the mirror from her and put her hand through the small upper door to see if she could see anything obviously important in the other room.

“How did you figure out the numbers?” Belle asked Graham.

“We followed the clues on the description of the paintings,” Ruby explained, “and we were able to find hidden numbers in them.”

“There’s more numbers on the back of this door,” Emma cried out.

“Let’s hear them, Love,” Killian called from where he knelt below her, ready to put the numbers into the combination lock on the other small locked door.

While Emma and Killian were working on the combination lock, Will was crawling around on the floor, his nose nearly touching the baseboard.

“What the hell are you doing?” Regina asked, after stepping backwards and almost falling over him, only Robin’s quick reflexes and strong arms keeping her from hitting the floor.

“I’m looking for clues, what do you think I’m doing?”

“I think you’re being an idiot. Now get up before you make someone else crack their cranium.”

Emma was adjusting the mirror to see the numbers better. “8-3-6-4.” Killian entered the combination and the lock opened. He reached up and took the mirror from Emma. Angling it toward the door, he could see arrows on the backside of it pointing up toward some sort of button near the door jam.

“The cane inside the upper door, will it reach the button?” Killian asked.

“I’m not sure,” Emma answered.

“Try it,” he suggested.

“I can’t see what I’m doing,” she said. Everyone’s eyes were on her and she was beginning to get frustrated.

“Would you like for me to try, Lass?” Liam asked.

“Yeah,” she said, “your arms are longer.” She stepped aside and let Liam reach through the door.

“Hold that mirror still for me, Emma,” he said, trying to maneuver the cane to hit the button. He finally did and the way he was leaning against the door caused it to open suddenly, nearly making him fall to the floor.

Everyone cheered and rushed into the other room. It was a little bit larger with a huge bookshelf opposite the door. On it were various knick knacks in addition to books stacked artfully on the various shelves. On the wall now behind the open door, hung a terribly faded world map. To the right of the door they’d just entered was a work table with an in-progress Scrabble game board on it. Over the game board on the wall hung a wooden elephant head.

As soon as they had a good look around the room, Belle glanced up at the video screen over the door and announced, “We have forty-two minutes left.” The couples split up to begin scouring the room for clues, calling out directions to one another as they found them.

Robin lifted a scarf out of a bowl, revealing two puzzle pieces, which he held up. “Anyone else find more pieces to the puzzle?”

Soon, Robin and Regina were busy trying to assemble the numerous pieces handed to them. Meanwhile the other couples split off and began gathering different clues from around the room — from elephant tusks, to stone tablets, books, and keys. They solved several puzzles, but it seemed each answered riddle revealed another question to unravel.

Time was ticking away when they got a small fountain on the bookcase flowing which caused the bookcase to slide to the side, revealing a much smaller room containing the Monet painting. A loud cheer went up from the group until the bars in front of the painting deflated their exuberance a bit.

With only fifteen minutes left on the clock, they were getting desperate. Regina noticed there were lasers near the bars and started tracing where they landed within the office. Belle and Will had found a makeup mirror on a pedestal earlier in their searches, so she took the mirror and set it down on a ledge angling it to another mirror hanging on the wall, which directed the laser back to the painting. The word FAKE was emblazoned in the corner of the painting behind the bars.

Regina huffed out an exasperated exhale. “Are we ever going to get out of here?”

She felt Robin grab her arm and spin her toward him, planting a firm kiss on her lips that was completely unexpected. It only lasted a moment, but that moment was enough to thoroughly steal her breath away. He pulled back and stared into her eyes before he spoke.

“That was a stroke of brilliance, Darling,” he said. “Of course we’re going to get out of here, and we’re one step closer thanks to you.”

Regina felt her cheeks heat at his praise. The friends in this room were the only ones who’d ever believed in her like that and she could hardly believe this man that she’d met only five days ago thought that highly of her, too. She didn’t know what to say in the face of such affirmation, so she grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him to her for a passionate kiss, much longer than the first.

“Oi,” called Will, “stop with the smoochin’. We have a Monet to find. The real one!”

Elsa suddenly noticed a small drawer on the book shelf that popped out slightly with the angling of the mirrors. She pulled the drawer open and found a small and very heavy magnet. She held it up with a questioning look on her face.

“Anyone have an idea of what to do with this?” she asked.

“Here!” Will called. He was crouched down next to the bookcase, fingering a small indentation that looked like it was just big enough to hold the magnet. Elsa handed it to him and he put it in the opening. He could feel the magnetic attraction take hold, so he grabbed the end of the magnet and pulled. A full panel opened on the side of the bookcase revealing a hole just big enough for a hand to reach in.

Will knelt on the floor and reached inside, his face scrunched up in concentration. “Don’t get your arm stuck,” Belle advised.

“Aha!” he shouted triumphantly, pulling out a rolled canvas. “It’s the real Monet!”

“Or rather, a replica of the real Monet,” Mary Margaret corrected.

“What do we do with it?” Elsa asked, watching as Will handed it to Belle, who unrolled it and held it up.

“Hey, there are numbers on it!” David shouted, drawing attention to the four bold, black numbers written on the back.

“There’s only one keypad we haven’t used yet,” Emma pointed out. “In the other room.”

They all quickly made their way back to the first room and Emma punched the numbers into the keypad. As soon as she did, the original entry door swung open and the clock on the screen came to a stop with 8 minutes and 15 seconds left.

As the group celebrated with high fives and hugs, Killian turned toward Emma, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. “I don’t mean to upset you, Emma, but I think we make quite the team.”

“With some help from our friends,” she grinned, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms.

“And one hard-headed git,” he added.

She giggled and leaned in closer until they were nose-to-nose. “And by the way, I’m not upset at all, but…” She paused, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.

“But what, Love?” he asked, searching her eyes.

“But I really want you to kiss me right now.”

His smile lit up his face, before he whispered, “As you wish,” and pressed his lips to hers.

*********

Granny wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand and blew out a tired sigh as the last of the breakfast rush crowd finally left. It had been a long day already, and it wasn’t even noon yet.

The bell above the door chimed again, and Granny bit back a curse–until she saw who it was filing into her diner two-by-two and looking extremely happy together.

Ruby led the way, her arm around Graham’s waist and so close to him it was almost obscene. They were followed by Mary Margaret and David, holding hands and looking as though they didn’t realize there was anyone else in the world. Elsa and Liam followed along, shooting each other shy, smitten glances. Will spoke animatedly about something outrageous, judging by the way Belle rolled her eyes and playfully smacked him in the back of the head. Granny noted the librarian couldn’t keep the smile from her face. Granny’s smile grew yet wider when she saw Regina and Robin walking together, little Roland holding Regina’s other hand, his dimples in full view as he smiled happily. Last of all came Emma and Killian, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her waist.

“Table for twelve,” Ruby said with a broad smile.

“Thirteen!” Roland piped up.

“Coming right up!” Granny said, grabbing a stack of menus and waving the group to follow her. The urge to say I knew it! was strong, but Granny was wise enough to refrain from saying it. It was satisfaction enough just to see how happy everyone was.

The future looked bright for Ruby and her friends, and Granny couldn’t wait to watch that future unfold.

The End!

Notes: You made it!!!! We hope you enjoyed reading our not-so-little story!! Below are the real-life adventures on which our story was built.

–Our first stop was in Bowling Green, Kentucky. The park in question was called Lost River Cave rather than Lost Boys Cave. And yes, we met our tour guide (not hard on the eyes, but no Killian!) as we were making our way to our meeting place for the tour.

--Krystal, rather than Mary Margaret, was the one who became known for asking all the questions.

–The Blue Hole was a real thing–only the legend was that it was bottomless rather than that it led to Neverland.

–Yes, our female tour guide really did a runway walk down the center of our boat.

–The Wishing Stone was real, and we had to duck when going under it, but Will’s mishap was entirely fictionalized.

–The guide in our boat did point out the difference between stalactites and stalagmites, although she didn’t mix them up.

–Jen was the one who made an itinerary–although it wasn’t scheduled to the minute and it did end up being rather flexible.

–No twisted ankles, cracked craniums, or any other injury occurred on our vacation, thankfully.

–Our venture to the supermarket was completely ordinary. Maybe if we’d purchased ice cream, it would have gotten more exciting.

–Yes, our cabin truly was in a place called Sherwood Forest Resort. There were no sightings of Robin Hood, though.

–We never met our neighbors, although we certainly HEARD them on the last night we were there. They chose to pretend the resort’s nightly noise ordinance wasn’t a thing.

–‘Granny's’ was based on a pancake house we visited on our first full day in Pigeon Forge. The potato flinging incident was real–although completely accidental on Marta’s part. And an adorable little boy did peek at Joni around the end of the buffet, although it was his freckles and not his dimples which were so cute!

–No birds flew in through our open door–although the bird landing on the bear figurine’s head was an homage to a storefront we saw on the main strip. Three large bear statues, one with a bird atop its head, stood over a “Jesus saves!” sign. It was so random and ridiculous that it became a running joke all week. Likely Marta is still giggling about it!

-The wild turkey and black bear incident really happened, but as we were all in the same vehicle, we all got a front row seat to the resident wildlife.

–Our free day at the cabin was spent entirely in writing this story. We had no Will character show up to play pranks.

–We did, indeed, have a hot tub, but no one made any use of it, and certainly not the kind of use Ruby and Graham did, lol.

–Finally, the escape room scene was based on our own experience on the first full day of our time in Pigeon Forge, and it was indeed called ‘The Heist’. The clues, descriptions and puzzles are accurate to what we did in our own escape room (which Joni found to be the best part of the vacation). We made it out with 6:05 to spare!

Can you figure out why the group in our story had 8 minutes, 15 seconds left?

–There might be more to come in this universe. Some of the other attractions we enjoyed in Pigeon Forge we know would also be enjoyed by these characters, so they might get written sometime in the future.

#vacay fic #fic collab #cave cruises cabin capers & cracked craniums #krystal writes #art by krystal

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