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jarienn972 · 5 years

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Uninvited Company - Part One

This is my second contribution to the @ouatwinterwhump event and it is a story that takes place approximately 6 months after the Final Battle at the end of S6. Here, Emma and Killian are trying to enjoy some time alone to celebrate their 6 month anniversary, but they quickly find themselves in danger.

This story will feature three parts updating weekly. Special thanks go out to the organizers of this whump-filled event and to @the-whumpy-fangirl who served both as beta-reader and confidence booster again.

Story can also be found on FF.net and AO3.

All they’d wanted was a little time to themselves - just a few hours to relax and enjoy each other’s company. Couple time was one of those little luxuries that as Sheriff, Emma Swan-Jones found increasingly difficult to fit into her busy schedule. Even with the Black Fairy defeated and Rumplestiltskin gone off to some distant realm to raise his son with Belle, Storybrooke was still anything but calm. There always seemed to be some sort of skirmish going on that kept both her and her Deputy husband occupied.

Today, they’d been married for six months and despite their opposing schedules, they’d wanted to do something special to celebrate the anniversary but they weren’t certain they’d be able to fit something in. Even a brief interlude at Granny’s seemed out of the question after a Viking uprising against the Harbormaster caused disruption at the docks and a trio of former Lost Boys were wanted for vandalizing half of the town as well as for breaking into several homes and local businesses. While they hadn’t really stolen much, they were causing thousands of dollars in damages and Storybrooke residents wanted them caught and prosecuted. For a small town, this place definitely had no shortage of criminal activity to keep their law enforcement hopping.

This morning, she’d learned that the now-adult Lost Boys had broken into the elementary school by shattering a window of a third grade classroom, spending approximately five minutes trashing desks, chairs and even a couple of laptops before the janitor chased them off. Their juvenile destruction might have been minor compared to other crimes in Storybrooke history but it added to her already hefty caseload. Emma was getting ready to head over to the school to speak to that same janitor to get descriptions of the hooligans and survey the damages when her father surprised her, entering through the station’s rear door off of the alley. She nearly leapt out of her chair when she caught sight of David Nolan out of the corner of her eye.

“Dad?!” she exclaimed, pushing back from the desk. “What are you doing here? You scared the crap out of me!”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you,” he replied in a slightly sheepish, embarrassed tone. “Anyway, I’m here to take over.”

Emma glared up at him quizzically, eyebrows knitted in suspicion at his choice of words. “What do you mean take over?”

“I’m giving you the day off. It’s your six-month anniversary so you and Hook should spend the day together, not chasing after a bunch of wayward overgrown adolescents.”

“You remembered that it was our six-month anniversary?”

“Well, not me technically,” David confessed. “Your mother was actually the one who reminded me and suggested that I take on duties as Sheriff today so that the two of you can have the day off.”

“You’re going to work Killian’s shift this afternoon too?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered,” he assured her. “Go home. Go get your husband and go enjoy the day together. It’s not often that we get weather this nice in November so maybe take advantage of that?”

Emma wasn’t about to hesitate on accepting his offer, hopping up from her chair and giving her father a huge hug of gratitude before grabbing her jacket that had been hanging on the doorknob and dashing gleefully towards the door.

**********

So, that was how her day had started. Emma hurried home in search of her husband but didn’t find him at the house. A quick check of the GPS locator on his cell phone revealed that he was down at the harbor, likely tending to something on the Jolly Roger since she doubted he’d seen the report about the Viking incident yet. He was also probably unaware that his father-in-law had given him the afternoon off. With their schedules now free, they spent a few minutes deciding how they would spend their time. Killian was quick to suggest sailing out into the harbor but Emma wanted to take advantage of this beautiful, late fall day to find an isolated place out in the woods where they could be alone - and as far from Storybrooke as they could realistically get. She painted a vivid picture for him of the two of them sharing a picnic lunch beneath a canopy of pine trees, perhaps seeing if their alone time might develop into even more enjoyable activities.

It took only a few minutes to throw together a decent picnic lunch, to which Emma added a bottle of her favorite Pinot Grigio and a pair of stemless wine goblets. Killian rounded up an old, red and black plaid blanket that he rolled tightly to fit into the bottom of Emma’s beat up canvas backpack before she packed the food, water bottles and utensils on top of it. Emma shook her head when he attempted to tuck his trusty rum flask into the pack as well. She wanted to keep him sober for this little unplanned getaway and besides, they could save the rum for later…

So they drove out past the toll (or was it troll?) bridge to the furthest reaches of Storybrooke’s borders to a spot Emma remembered from her many adventures traipsing through these same woods in search of the villain of the week. It was a picturesque evergreen thicket located approximately a hundred yards from the dirt road that led to the mountains north of town. The ground here was blanketed in a thick carpet of pine needles and fallen leaves that crunched beneath their boots as they strolled arm in arm towards the hidden refuge they sought.

But that was about as idyllic as their day would get. As they ventured away from the road, an uneasiness began to prickle the hair on the back of her neck, the forest growing denser and more claustrophobic with every step she took. What had earlier seemed such a wonderful idea now had her cursing herself as she unconsciously clung tighter to Killian’s arm.

“You alright there, Love?” he asked, pausing on the trail until she would meet his questioning gaze.

“I’m just having some second thoughts about whether this was actually a good idea or not…” she replied, gaining a skeptically arched eyebrow from her husband in return.

“Second thoughts about spending our afternoon together?”

“No, definitely not that! I wouldn’t give up spending alone time with you for anything, but I’m thinking that maybe coming out here wasn’t such a great idea. These woods are a little more imposing than I remembered…”

“If you’d rather turn back and go elsewhere, I’m certain we could come up with numerous enjoyable activities in which to divulge our time…” Emma shook her head at the innuendo laden smirk crossing his lips, but she couldn’t deny that he was right. There were plenty of other things they could do besides a November picnic in the forest.

“You’re not disappointed? I mean, I turned down sailing on the Jolly Roger for this…”

“I could never be disappointed in time spent with you, Swan.”

“Then let’s get out of here. We can go camp out in the back yard or the living room instead.”

“As you wish,” he smiled as they turned back towards the dirt road where she’d parked the Bug, Emma wrapping her fingers around his hook and playfully tugging it, but they’d barely made it a few steps before Emma froze. Something off to their right had captured her attention. “Emma? What’s wrong, Love?”

“Over there…,” she replied in a whisper. “Looks like a campsite. Who would be camping way out here?”

“Campsite? Where?” He either wasn’t looking in the right place or was simply not seeing what she had spotted.

“Off to the right, beyond that row of bushes…” Once she pointed him in the right direction, Killian now spied what had garnered her attention - a glimpse of a bright blue plastic sheet apparently hanging from the distant trees to form a makeshift shelter and almost entirely obscured by the heavy undergrowth. He also discerned a few curls of smoke rising from a still-smoldering fire which, together with the fabricated tent, indicated they weren’t alone in this dense patch of forest.

“Looks as though someone’s been here recently,” he added in the same hushed tone. “See the tendrils of smoke rising from their fire? Perhaps someone else has chosen to take advantage of this temperate weather as we are?”

“I don’t know, Killian. I’m not getting a good vibe about this… Who do we know who’d want to set up camp this far out of town? Are any of Robin Hood’s gang still around?”

“Not that I’m aware. I believe they all returned to the Enchanted Forest.”

“What about Lost Boys?”

“The few that came back with us have a compound south of town. They tend to keep together, the distrustful little sods.”

“Then who could it be? Most Storybrooke residents are still afraid of getting this close to the town line intentionally, even if there isn’t a curse attached to it any longer. Pretty hard habit to break…”

“I’ve no better an idea than you, Love,” he responded with a shrug, although his curiosity was certainly piqued.

“Maybe we should get a closer look?” she suggested, her instincts kicking in. “If this isn’t anyone we know, we might have a bigger problem.”

“Alright, but I suggest we make this a brief investigation. The person might not appreciate the interruption and of course, we do have other plans…” Killian flashed his cheekiest grin at his wife, but it was quickly wiped from his visage as a gunshot rang out and the accompanying bullet ricocheted off a tree mere inches to his left. A second shot followed almost instantly, striking the ground at Emma’s feet. “Doesn’t appear that our mystery camper wishes to be identified, Swan! Let’s go!” He reached out and grasped ahold of her wrist, urgently tugging her away from the mysterious campsite as a third and fourth shot whizzed past them.

Emma hesitated for a moment, trying to determine who was shooting at them but all she could definitively discern was that the bullets were coming from the direction of the road, which meant little to no chance of escaping to the Bug. All they would be able to do was sprint deeper into the darkening forest so, as soon as she came to her senses, that was precisely what they did. If she’d been able to figure out the shooter’s position, she might have been able to freeze them with magic, but without that information, her brain insisted that flight was their best option. She’d probably second guess that decision later but they’d ran - ran until they believed they’d distanced themselves enough from their unexpected guest.

Minutes later, panting and exhausted, they dropped to the earth, sheltering behind a moss-covered outcrop of granite boulders.

“Think we lost them?” Emma wondered, using her sleeve to wipe the sweat from her forehead and neck.

“Well, whomever we encountered has stopped shooting at us, but unless our unknown assailant makes a return appearance, we won’t know for certain.” Killian slumped his body against the rocks, breathing heavily as his body felt starved for oxygen. He really must have been allowing himself to go soft since he’d made Storybrooke home because he was feeling every bit of his 300 years of age right now.

Beside him, Emma had dug her cell phone from her pocket but her face was marred by a deep frown as she saw there was no signal. “We really need to work on improving the cell service around here,” she grumbled. “There’s no signal so I can’t call out for help.”

“At least you have magic should we encounter this person again,” he reminded her as a pained groan escaped him when he attempted to shift positions.

“All the good that did us when our mystery gunman started shooting. No idea where exactly they were shooting from. I mean, I suppose I could have blasted everything between us and the road, but it might not have done us any good.”

“Perhaps I should have insisted that you poof us out of there instead of running,” he lamented, sucking in another deep breath as his lungs continued to ache. “I’m getting too old for this…”

“Beginning to feel your age, Captain?” she taunted in attempt to lighten the mood.

“Aye - every bloody year…” he sighed, tipping his head back, staring up at the pine boughs stretched out well above their heads as he clutched tightly at his chest.

“Are you having that much trouble catching your breath?” Emma asked, the light-hearted teasing now giving way to genuine concern that he wasn’t recovering as easily as he should have from their dash through the woods. He might be centuries old, but his physical body was that of a man in his late 30s and he was definitely in good shape. This just wasn’t like him.

“Aye,” he replied as she tucked her phone away and crawled closer to him. “It’s really hard to breathe…”

“Let me unbutton that vest so your chest isn’t so constricted,” she offered, pushing his arm out of her way. “I remember those damned Enchanted Forest corsets and that thing looks almost as bad…” Her nimble fingers made quick work of the tiny mother-of-pearl buttons on his black leather waistcoat, but as she brushed the leather to the side to release some of the pressure on his rib cage, a disturbing sight caught her eye - a deep stain on his navy blue shirt. Her fingertips probed it gently, finding it damp, but not with sweat. And her fear was confirmed as she withdrew her fingers to find her skin tinted with crimson. “Killian - you’re bleeding!”

“Am I?” he allowed his gaze to drift downward at the apparent injury, yet somehow, even presented with the evidence, he wasn’t feeling anything more than merely short of breath.

“One of those bullets must have hit you,” she continued, carefully pulling his tucked shirttail from the waistband of his jeans then cautiously lifted the fabric, peeling it away from his tender flesh to uncover the oozing wound on his left side, located just below his bottom rib. “Can you lean forward a bit?” she queried, suspecting from the wound’s appearance that this was an exit wound. He nodded, pushing away from the boulder and nearly falling against his wife’s shoulder.

Her suspicion was confirmed seconds later as she located the matching hole in the back of his leather jacket. She didn’t need to find the actual hole in his skin to know it was there, but at least it meant she wouldn’t have to attempt to dig a slug out of him.

“Okay, looks like the bullet went clean through, but I don’t know if it hit anything vital. I mean, you were still able to run after being struck and you’re still talking now, so chances are good that it didn’t hit anything major. Let me heal this and we’ll get the hell out of here.”

She hovered her right hand above his abdomen, awaiting the familiar magic to flow through her and heal his injuries, but this time, nothing happened. “Damnit!” she hissed, her exclamation exiting in a too-loud whisper.

“What’s wrong, Love?”

“We must have crossed over the town line somewhere. Magic isn’t working.” She let out a heavy sigh as her brain tried to come to terms with their precarious situation. They were lost in the woods somewhere north of town with no magic, no weapons, no cell phones and an unknown person possibly pursuing them. Killian was wounded, potentially seriously, and she couldn’t heal him. She didn’t even have a first aid kit with her as it was back in the trunk of the Bug. So much for enjoying their anniversary… “Okay - think you will be able to walk? We aren’t going to be able to stay here.”

“Not sure…”

“We might not have a choice, but first, let’s see if we have something we can use in here,” she rambled as she shrugged the backpack off of her shoulders and unceremoniously tossed it to the ground at her feet. After unzipping the main compartment, she dumped the contents out, recognizing the importance of lightening their load as she rifled through the varied items. The blanket Killian had so meticulously rolled earlier hadn’t fallen out of the backpack so she left it inside, immediately placing the bottled water and sandwiches alongside it as they’d likely need those later. The bottle of wine wasn’t really worth carrying but Emma placed it off to the side as she might be able to use it as a disinfectant since it did contain alcohol. Killian’s rum would have been much more useful for that purpose since it was higher proof and now she could kick herself for making him leave the flask behind.

The majority of the remaining items would be abandoned - the wine glasses, the container of fruit salad and the buttery pound cake that her mother had dropped off that morning (which should have been a hint that her parents were plotting something).

“Think we could use the wine to clean out that wound?” she asked, hoping the alcohol content was sufficient.

“I’d rather just drink it,” he scoffed.

“That’s not happening. You don’t need to be getting buzzed right now. You’ll probably start going into shock soon if we can’t get you medical attention.” She located the corkscrew amongst the discarded items and twisted it into the top of the bottle to release the cork. It probably wasn’t the best thing to use but her options were limited and it seemed better than nothing. Tugging the cork free, she flicked it aside and poured a decent amount of the golden liquid onto a wad of paper towels she’d brought along to use as napkins. Clenching her teeth, she pressed the soaked towels against the bullet wound as Killian flinched and hissed at the pain. He was definitely feeling the injury now, especially as she applied more pressure to try to slow the bleeding.

“Damn, that smarts…” Killian said as his face contorted into a grimace. He knew that what she was doing was necessary, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Sorry...Hold this in place for a moment while I get this stuff together. We need to get moving…”

“Help me up first,” he insisted as she pushed herself to her feet before taking hold of his outstretched and now bloodstained hand, helping him stand up then releasing her grip and passing the wine-drenched paper towels to him as his fingers slid back beneath his jacket to cover the wound. “Now - which way should we venture?”

“We need to find a way back across the town line. That way, I can poof us out of here and we can return with backup to capture the shooter.”

“And which way do you suppose that line lies?” Killian asked, realizing that he’d become slightly disoriented by the advancing effects of blood loss and their rapid retreat from the gunman earlier. He wasn’t even certain from which direction they’d come and little looked familiar. “This pirate can navigate by the stars, but I’m not as adept at navigating by trees.”

“We’ll have to head south - toward the lake.”

“And which way is south?”

“That way, I think,” she said as she pointed to her left. “I can see the ridge of mountains over there to the right, so that has to be north.”

“Is that the same direction from whence we came?” he questioned, his weary mind assessing the likelihood of danger ahead. “The direction we’re apt to encounter the gunman once again?”

She nodded silently before following her affirmation with an explanation. “Hopefully, they won’t be expecting us to head back the way we came. Either way, we don’t have a choice. It’s the only direction that I know right now will lead us back to the town line.”

#ouatwinterwhump #cs ff #cs fanfic #ouat ff #uninvited company

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frauleinsmaria · 6 years

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Everything Comes Back to You (1/1)

Summary: Ready for a change in their lives, Emma and Henry move from New York to her hometown of Storybrooke. But she gets a bigger change than she bargained for when Henry's new teacher is the ex-boyfriend she hasn't seen since college … who is also Henry's dad, and doesn't know he has a son. Written as part of the Captain Swan Little Bang.

Rating: T (Language, implied sex)

Word count: 14,842

Also on AO3 and FF.net

AN: After months of planning, writing, and editing, I can't believe it's finally time to share this not so little story of mine!

A few thank yous: First, to the mods of the @captainswanbigbang for putting this event together and giving me the opportunity to participate. I'm grateful for how this experience has challenged me as a writer, and even more so for the friends and connections I've made in the community over the past few months.

Second, words can't express how lucky I was to get Tessa, aka @the-reason-to-sail-home as my beta. She's been encouraging throughout this whole process, helping me deal with writer's block more than a few times and giving incredibly useful feedback. I'm so glad we got paired together and can't wait to read your own LB story soon!

In addition, I was also lucky to get paired with two artists who made gorgeous pieces for my story! Go check out @treluna2 and @polarbearmorgan's art- I'll be reblogging both and posting links to them here once they're up later today!

Lastly, I have to thank @irishswanff for posting this prompt right before the LB sign ups began. I've never had such a strong initial connection to a story idea before, and I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

She should have known this day would come.

Emma stood in the kitchen, mouth agape as she read the letter Henry’s teacher had sent home with him:

Parents,

Just a reminder parent-teacher conferences are Tuesday afternoon. Feel free to contact me if you have any questions.

Killian Jones

This was just her luck. She couldn’t believe he was in Storybrooke, let alone working at the elementary school. How could she face him after almost ten years, at a parent-teacher conference of all things?

More importantly, how would she explain to her son that his new teacher was also his father?

-/-

It started at Boston University during junior year. She met him the first day of the fall semester in Professor Gold’s eight A.M. Advanced Psychology class. Bonding over their mutual hatred of the instructor developed into a close friendship neither one of them expected. This lasted until the end of the year, when Killian confessed he couldn’t return to London for the summer without admitting his feelings for her. She’d kissed him in response.

Falling in love with Killian Jones had changed her life in a way she hadn’t expected, similar to her experience being taken in by David’s mother in high school. But as much as she loved him, Emma spent the entirety of senior year on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was impossible for things could stay the same, no matter how much she wanted them to. The closer they got to graduating, the more terrified she grew of what the future had in store.

It all went to hell the week before graduation. Killian showed up at her apartment, waving around the paper that confirmed her biggest fears: he’d been granted admission into the Masters of English Lit program at the University of Washington in Seattle. Emma had tried to put on a brave face as she congratulated him, and it worked...until he brought up the topic she’d shied away from for months.

He wanted her to go with him. There was plenty to do with a Criminal Justice degree in Seattle, he’d told her so many times she’d lost count. But this time, she couldn’t dismiss his suggestion and change the subject. The night ended with the worst fight they’d ever had - him upset at her hesitance to move forward in their relationship and her convinced he was moving too fast. She’d thrown him out of the apartment and told him they were over. He knew he couldn’t change her mind.

That was the end. He left for Seattle the week after graduation, and she moved to New York, desperate to get away from the place that reminded her of him. It was impossible to walk past the diner that was home to most of their study dates or the park where she’d first kissed him without feeling an overwhelming sense of loss. New York offered exactly what she needed, a chance to start over in a new place with no reminders of the past.

Then she received a permanent reminder of Killian Jones in the form of a positive pregnancy test a month later.

She never told him. There were many times over the next nine months she’d picked up the phone and let her finger hover over his name, then decided against it. He had his own life in Seattle and had long since moved on. The last thing he needed hindering his future was a kid with the girl who had been too scared to be a part of it.

The past ten years had been hard, but she and Henry had made out alright. She managed to pay the bills via bail bonds work and raise him on her own. David and Mary Margaret, the only people she had shared the news of her pregnancy with, had been there whenever they’d needed it. The two of them moved to New York before Henry’s birth and stayed until last year when David, eager to return to their roots, had accepted the job as sheriff in their hometown of Storybrooke.

Life in New York left little to desire. Henry went to a respectable school, made good grades, and had friends in his class. But after David and Mary Margaret left, it didn’t feel like home anymore. The big city she’d considered a safe haven a decade ago now felt overwhelming.

Emma tried to change this: she convinced Henry to try every extracurricular his school offered, applied at a new bail bonds office, attempted dating a few times.

(That fizzled out as men never asked to see her again once they learned she was a mother.)

The decision to pack up and move to Storybrooke was last minute. When she’d graduated, the idea of coming back to the small town where she’d spent her teenage years wasn’t part of the plan - but becoming a mom wasn’t either, and she wouldn’t trade Henry for anything. There were only a few days until the lease on their apartment ended, and she had yet to decide whether to look into other opportunities, or sign on for another year. She’d been mulling over the whole thing on the phone with David when her brother mentioned he was in need of a deputy at the sheriff’s station. She and Henry moved into their new home a week later.

The loft differed in comparison to their previous apartment, but Emma liked the open layout and Henry claimed his room upstairs was the best place to build his dream fort. It was nice having family close by for movie nights and lunch on Sundays, which Mary Margaret informed her would now be their new tradition.

Her son’s parentage had been a touchy topic of conversation between her and Henry over the past few years. He asked Emma about his dad numerous times, but coming up with a story he’d be satisfied with had become difficult as he’d grown older. The last time he brought the subject up, she’d snapped, “He’s not around, okay?” The curt response had kept him from asking since. That was a year ago.

She thought about Killian often now that Henry looked less like a little boy and more like the pictures she’d once come across in Killian’s old yearbooks. He had Emma’s nose and chin, but everything else about him screamed “Jones.” Somehow, he’d inherited Killian’s mannerisms despite never meeting him. She had lost count of how many times she’d caught him twirling his pencil or tapping his foot on the floor while doing his homework, as his father had done in college when they were studying.

Contacting him had crossed her mind a number of times over the years, especially when Henry reached a milestone or event most dads would want to be around for. Locating him wouldn’t have been an issue considering her line of work. Yet, each time, she came to the same conclusion: There’s no need; the two of you are fine by yourselves. You have no idea where he is, or if he has his own family now. It’s best for everyone that he doesn’t know. And each time, her heart sank as she believed it and wondered where life had taken him.

Now she knew. She would have known sooner had she not been swamped with unpacking the day Henry started at his new school, and David took him instead. He’d been taking the bus since. When asked how his first week had gone, he’d said, “great,” and tried to talk her into letting him watch Deadpool. (He’d lost that one before it started.) All she’d heard about his teacher since was he “wasn’t from Storybrooke” was “cool” and “knew a lot about books.” She hadn’t even asked the man’s name.

A thought occurred to her: if David had taken Henry to school his first day…

“Hey, Emma,” her brother answered the phone.

“When were you going to tell me Killian Jones was Henry’s teacher?!”

There was dead silence as David tried to come up with a response. “Look, I was gonna tell you, okay? I hadn’t figured out the best way yet. I didn’t know he’d come to Storybrooke until I saw him in Henry’s classroom; he probably hasn’t been here much longer than you.”

“Did you speak to him? Does he know who Henry is?”

“No, he was busy so I didn’t have a chance to. I’m sure ‘Henry Nolan’ is on the records and he assumed he’s my kid. It’s not like he’d know otherwise.” David and Killian were friends in college thanks to his relationship with Emma, but from what she knew, they hadn’t been in contact since. She’d made it clear David and Mary Margaret weren’t allowed to contact him when they found out she was pregnant.

“Shit. He’s going to have a major bomb dropped on him at parent-teacher conferences.”

“Oh, wow. Erm...good luck?”

“Thanks for the encouragement,” she deadpanned.

“Sorry. I’m not trying to make you feel worse, but have you thought about how he’s going to feel? I know you had your reasons for not telling him, but this isn’t a small secret you’ve kept. I don’t know how I’d react if Mary Margaret and I broke up, and she found me later to say I’d been a father for a decade without knowing it.”

Yeah, but you and Mary Margaret were a match made in heaven. “I know. I made a mistake, and it’s time to deal with the consequences.”

“If it helps, I don’t know how he’ll feel about the not-knowing, but I don’t think he’ll dislike the idea of being a dad.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I wasn’t in his classroom long that day, but I saw enough: he’s great with kids.”

-/-

After hanging up with David, Emma called the school to schedule her time slot for the parent-teacher conference. Coincidentally she’d called on short notice and the last slots available were the earliest and the latest. She opted for the latter; this conversation was bound to be a long one.

She spent the next few days on pins and needles, dreading the reunion with her ex-boyfriend. David’s comment had made her feel both better and worse. Truthfully, she’d always known Killian would make a great father. If she had told him the truth, though, would that have mended things between them? She hadn’t wanted to move to Seattle with him because of her own fears and insecurities. Having his child hadn’t helped, as she constantly asked, “what if?” What if she’d decided to go and things fell apart later? Would she have been stuck as a single mom, alone on the other side of the country? What if them having a baby had stood in the way of the opportunities Killian had and he resented her for it? What if he was okay with being a dad, but only stayed with her out of a sense of obligation for Henry?

Each of these “what if’s” made it harder for her to reach out to him, though she knew they were wrong. If they’d had Henry together and broken up afterwards, it was hard to imagine he would have left her to raise him alone. Which is why she knew how furious he would be when she came clean.

(She couldn’t say she blamed him.)

-/-

Emma put off coming to the school but was still early, hands shaking as she stood in the hall and watched the hands on her wristwatch move at an agonizing speed. Henry had gotten off of the bus and went to the library with Mary Margaret. He wanted to come with her, but his aunt’s offer to spend the afternoon with him seemed more appealing than discussing his academic performance.

(Among other things he had no idea about.)

The classroom door opened and a dark haired man walked out with a girl she assumed was his daughter. “Mr. Jones said to send you in,” he told Emma as he took the girl’s hand and they left.

She walked into the room before she lost her nerve. Her heart constricted when she saw him sitting behind his desk, back turned to her as did something with a stack of papers. “Just a moment, and I’ll be finished here,” he called over his shoulder.

“Take your time.” There was a catch in her voice as she tried to keep her composure.

Killian recognized her voice - there was a sharp intake of breath as his back stiffened and he spun around in his chair to face her. His eyes widened as he took her in. “Swan?”

“Hi,” she whispered. Emma knew seeing him again would sting, but she never expected it to feel like such a punch to the gut. He’d changed since college - shorter hair, more scruff, wearing a button down and khakis instead of a band t-shirt and jeans - but it seemed like no time had passed since she’d seen him for the last time at their graduation. He even wore what looked to be a pair of horn-rimmed reading glasses, and she forced herself not to think about just how much he reminded her of Harrison Ford.

He stood and came around the desk. “Swan...what are you doing here? In Storybrooke?”

“I moved back last week.” She paused, feeling awkward. “I got a note saying parent-teacher conferences were today. So, here I am.”

There was a flicker of emotion - surprise, disappointment, or both? - on his face as he heard why she’d come. “I wasn’t aware you had a child. Who is-“

“Henry. I’m Henry’s mom.”

“Ah.” Killian smiled. “Bright lad, I could tell from his first day.” He seemed to think there was nothing odd about her having a child old enough to be in the fourth grade. Did he assume she’d found someone else so soon after they’d broken up?

“I’m glad you think so.” She gulped as she prepared to tell him the reason she’d come. “Killian, there’s something you need to know about Henry.”

“Aye? Is he having difficulties adjusting to the school? It’s normal, but I’ll do whatever’s necessary to help.”

“No, nothing like that.” Her eyes pricked with tears when she realized how much he already cared about Henry. “The thing is, he’s not just my son.”

Killian’s brow furrowed with confusion. “What do you mean?’

“He’s nine years old, Killian.” She waited for him to absorb the meaning behind her words, hoping they would be enough for him to piece things together.

It worked. He froze, looking at Emma as he processed the connection. “Is he...mine?” he whispered, voice barely audible.

He sounded worried, scared even. “Yes. He’s yours.”

Despite her urge to run, Emma watched as he sat down on the edge of his desk, removed his glasses and covered his face with his hands.

“Killian, I-”

“Bloody hell,” he muttered. “Bloody hell.” He got to his feet again. “Does he know? About me? Is that why you came back?”

“No. He has no idea. I didn’t know you were here until he brought your note home.”

This bit of information seemed to be worse than anything she’d shared. “So you were never going to tell me?” he spat, hands clenched at his side. “You did because you had to?”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“No, I think you meant you were going to let my child grow up without letting his father know he existed!”

“Look, I’m sorry, Killian!” she pleaded with him. “I know there’s no excuse for not telling you. I thought it would be for the best.”

“What does that mean, Emma? For the best? Were you under the impression I would be such a terrible father?” He paused, thinking of something else. “Did you know before graduation? Is that why you ended things between us?”

“No! I didn’t find out until you left and I’d moved to New York. I was going to tell you- I almost did so many times- but I knew you had a life in Seattle and I didn’t want to make things complicated for you.”

“Yes, I had a life, Emma. But a life I would have gladly given up for my child!”

It should have been reassuring, but it wasn’t. She spent so long scared of what the truth might cause, and he’d told her she’d no reason to be. “I believe you, alright? But that would’ve been hard to believe ten years ago when we’d broken up. I thought you’d resent me for making your life complicated or you’d feel an obligation to stay because of Henry.”

Killian said nothing, still processing what he’d learned. “I don’t expect you to be happy with me,” she continued. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, and you had to find out like this. I know there’s nothing I can do to make up for the past, but we can change that for the future.”

A look of confusion flickered across his face. “What are you saying, Swan?”

“I’m saying you can be involved with him, if you want to.” She knew the words were absurd; of course he wanted to based on his reaction. “I know it’s complicated with you being his teacher, but we can work something out. He already thinks the world of you.”

She felt relieved to see his lips turn up at the corners. “Really?”

“Yeah. He thinks it’s cool you’re from London and know so much about books. He wants to be a writer.”

“I can see that. But it’s never occurred to me,” he looked at her with something besides anger in his eyes, “until now. He looks like you, Swan.”

“Not always, especially when he’s trying to concentrate. He does the thing with his pencil you always did in school.”

Killian smiled, a real smile, not unlike the ones from their best memories together. “I’ll keep an eye out for that in the future.” He realized the time and cursed. “Bloody hell. Swan, I hate to cut this short, but there’s a meeting with the county superintendent in ten minutes that I have to attend. Could we pick this conversation up again later?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m working second shift tomorrow and Thursday, but I have Friday afternoon off if you wanna get coffee and talk. Henry’s going camping with David and Mary Margaret this weekend, anyway.” Her son didn’t need to know she met his teacher outside of school when she couldn’t provide him with an explanation.

“I can do that.” The way his face had fallen a bit at the mention of Henry’s name hadn’t gone unnoticed to Emma. She expected their situation to be messy, but realized how difficult it would be for Killian: being around his own child, yet forced to stay quiet until they discussed the best way to reveal his parentage. “That Granny’s place you used to talk about has decent coffee. Unless there’s somewhere else you’d prefer.”

She couldn’t believe he’d remembered her love for the local diner. “As much as I love Granny’s, it’s not the place to go for conversations you don’t want publicized.” One of Granny’s customers or the owner herself could have a rumor about the new deputy and the fourth-grade teacher spread across Storybrooke in minutes.

“Good point.”

“There’s a place over on Second Street I’ve heard good things about. Have you been there?”

“No, but I’ve heard pleasant things from other teachers. I can be there by four if that’s alright.”

“It’s a date. I mean...” She stammered for better words. “I should go so you can get to your meeting. Bye, Killian.”

Emma ran out of the room and barely heard his soft, “Goodbye, love.”

She didn’t stop until she got to her car, plopping down in the driver's seat as her head fell against the wheel. In hindsight, things could have gone worse. He had rightly been upset, but it seemed he would put aside his animosity to be part of their son’s life. Explaining this to a child would be difficult, but she didn’t think Henry would be upset since he’d been asking questions about his dad and getting no answers for years.

But co-parenting wouldn’t be the hardest part, not by a long shot. She’d gone into that classroom thinking her walls were up, armor intact to ensure whatever feelings she had towards Killian wouldn’t be a factor.

She thought she was over him and could handle what they were getting into.

She was wrong.

-/-

“It sounds like things went well.”

Emma sat at David and Mary Margaret’s kitchen table two days later, having hot cocoa and snickerdoodles with her sister-in-law while David and Henry packed for their trip. At times like this she couldn’t complain about living a flight of stairs away.

“I guess. I didn’t know what to expect. He was nicer to me than I deserved.” She took a sip of her drink before again asking Mary Margaret the question that had been on her mind for days. “You didn’t know he was in Storybrooke? You both work for the school system!”

“And we work at two different schools, Emma,” she reminded her. “I don’t see teachers from the elementary school often, unless there’s some kind of county-wide event.” Mary Margaret had started teaching first grade when she and David moved back to Storybrooke, but transferred to the middle school last year. “Besides, the semester started less than a month ago.”

“I can’t understand how he showed up right before I moved back. What made him choose Storybrooke, anyway? It’s my hometown, but it’s not like he’d been here before.” She’d had every intention of bringing Killian to visit while they were dating, but they’d broken up before she had the chance.

“He may have never visited, but the way we talked about Storybrooke would give anybody a good idea about what kind of place it is. Maybe he got tired of being in the city and wanted a change.”

Mary Margaret was capable of making the most complicated things make sense. “Did you see him Tuesday? I left because he had to go to some meeting with the superintendent.”

“Yes, I did. That’s the only time, although I knew he was here since you showed me the note Henry brought home.”

“Did you speak to him? Did he say anything about…” She trailed off, embarrassed to say about me?

“No. But we didn’t talk much,” Mary Margaret added, noticing the look of disappointment Emma had failed to mask. “It was in passing, something about how long it had been, and we kept going.”

Emma didn’t know if this made her feel better. The subject of Killian had been a sensitive one between them over the years. Although she hadn’t said so since her return to Storybrooke, Emma knew Mary Margaret hadn’t approved of her keeping such a monumental secret from him. She was thankful she had yet to hear a lecture beginning with, “I told you so.”

“Are you two going to be co-parenting now?”

“I don’t know what other option there is, considering Killian wants to be involved with Henry. But it’s gonna take some time to get there. Him being Henry’s teacher could complicate things.”

Mary Margaret smiled, the grin meaning she would get a motivational speech about hope or happy endings. “You’ll figure something out, Emma. I know you have the best of intentions. This could end up being the start of something great.”

“I hope so, Mary Margaret. I really hope so.”

-/-

Emma tapped her fingers against the table as she looked from the door of the coffee shop to the clock oh her phone. She’d arrived early, as she had at the school a few days ago, and claimed a table where Killian would see her when he arrived, but far back enough to ensure they would be having a private conversation. The coffee shop was sparsely populated in comparison to Granny’s on any afternoon, but she wasn’t willing to take chances.

She glanced at her phone again. It was almost four; Killian should be leaving the school. He was a stickler for time; something told her that hadn’t changed.

“Can I get you something now?” The perky, pink-haired waitress who’d tried to take her order four times since she’d arrived was at her table once again. She must have thought Emma had been stood up or was taking up space for no reason since she’d been there awhile and had yet to order anything.

Emma smiled at the girl despite her agitation. “Not yet. My...friend should be here soon.”

The girl looked skeptical, but Emma must have given her the impression she didn’t want to be messed with today. “Alright. Let me know when you’re ready.”

She sighed with relief when the girl left.

“Bad day, love?”

Emma startled. She hadn’t noticed Killian arrive or sit down across from her.

“Apologies, Swan.” He tried not to laugh. “I didn’t intend to frighten you.”

She felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “You didn’t scare me.” She sounded unconvincing. “Just didn’t hear you come in. Um, do you want coffee? I would have ordered something but I didn’t know what you’d want.”

She motioned for the waitress, who seemed surprised she was needed. Emma realized there was no point in making the girl wait when he ordered plain black coffee, like he drank it in school.

She couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose when he took a long swig of his drink without adding cream or sugar. “I should’ve known,” she told him when he laughed at her expression. “You always drank the boring stuff.”

“Sorry. I can’t say I like having coffee in my cream.” Killian indicated to her own drink, a light tan color once she’d finished stirring in milk. “How is life treating you, love?”

“Okay.” She’d hoped they could wait before changing the subject and discussing the reasons they had agreed to meet. “There’s not a lot of crime to deal with, so that’s nice. Unless you count Leroy getting drunk and disturbing the peace at least once a week.”

“I’m afraid I know who you’re referring to. He showed up at my apartment building after I moved in and started a ruckus with the bloke next door.”

She changed the subject with what had been on her mind since Tuesday. “Killian, I know you and I have a lot to talk about. But I need to say thank you before anything else.’

He raised any eyebrow at her over the rim of his coffee mug, confused. “What on earth for, Swan? I haven’t done anything.”

“Yes, you have. I was horrible for keeping Henry from you, and yet you seem willing to look past that to be a part of his life. I’m not sure a lot of guys would do the same.”

“Emma.” He looked her in the eye. “Let’s make two things clear: first, I would never abandon, ignore, or mistreat my child, no matter my feelings toward their mother.” She didn’t need to question him to know it was true. “And secondly, I won’t lie, I’m still upset you didn’t tell me about Henry from the beginning.”

“I can’t say I blame you.”

“But,” he continued, “I realize you were in a tough spot. We had broken up, I was on the other side of the country. I also realize that had I put more into our relationship, it could have given you confidence that I would have stayed. And for that, I apologize.” He held up his hand to prevent her from disagreeing. “No, Swan. That much is on me. I was too concerned about Seattle to consider how it would change things for us. Again, I wish things could’ve been different, but I’m trying to see things from your perspective. I don’t see a need to dwell on the past when there’s the future and our son to be concerned about.”

Emma smiled, still bewildered by his attitude. “I appreciate that.”

They continued in casual conversation, most of it involving Henry and his and Emma’s life before Storybrooke. She waited for Killian to explain what brought him there too, but his expression when she hinted at the subject made it clear he wasn’t up for that discussion yet.

“He tried sports, but that didn’t last more than a year. He likes books and movies more than anything,” she told Killian when asked about Henry’s interests. “Sometimes that keeps him from fitting in with other kids, but he had a few good friends in New York. I hope he finds some here, too.”

Killian appeared more than satisfied with what he’d learned about his son. “He’s a bright lad, Swan. I’m sure he’ll have more friends than he knows what to do with.” Despite his approval, however, he wasn’t telling her something.

“What’s wrong, Killian? And don’t say ‘nothing’; I can spot a lie from a mile away.”

“That much hasn’t changed,” he chuckled. “I understand why you’d want to handle all of this with Henry slowly. He’s a child; this will be a lot for him. But Emma, he’s almost ten years old. I’ve missed so much of his life already, and-”

“You don’t want to miss more,” Emma finished. “That’s understandable.” She didn’t want the guilt of keeping him from Henry any longer. “Tell me something, though - are you allowed to have your own child in your class? Is that something the school would have an issue with?”

Killian shrugged. “It’s not the ideal circumstances, but there’s no policy against it. The third grade teacher’s twin girls are in her class. If it is against policy, there’s not much the school administration can do about it, considering there’s one teacher per grade, and I didn’t know Henry was my son beforehand.”

“Good to know.” At least his job wasn’t at risk. “I guess the next thing I have to do is talk to him.”

“Any idea how you’re going to go about that?”

“None. But I have until he comes back Sunday afternoon to think about it. I know beating around the bush won’t be an option; he’s too clever.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure out what’s best. And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to let me know. I want to be there...for Henry,” he added.

The last bit stung more than it should have. Of course he wanted to be there for Henry, but she remembered a time when he wanted to be there for her, too. Emma cursed herself for thinking about the past. She’d broken up with Killian, and she’d kept his son hidden from him for years. He’d moved on, and it was past time for her to accept it.

“I’m curious, love, what made you name him Henry Nolan?” He broke her reverie of thoughts. “I assumed he was David and Mary Margaret’s child at first.”

“Honestly? I felt better naming him ‘Nolan’ instead of ‘Swan,’”, she admitted. “My last name is something I chose and doesn’t have sentimental ties. I wanted Henry to be named after his family instead. It causes some confusion with legal stuff, but I don’t regret it.”

He nodded understandingly. “Sounds like you made the right choice.” It was a comfort to know he wasn’t one of those guys who got upset about not sharing a name with his kid.

They left the cafe soon after, Killian needing to grade papers and Emma heading to the station for the night shift. They exchanged numbers before leaving, Emma promising to let him know when she had the chance to talk things over with Henry.

She got in her car and drove away, watching in the rearview mirror as Killian walked home in the other direction. Her stomach lurched as she considered what the two - rather, three - of them were about to begin. Whether she was more hopeful or terrified, she didn’t know.

-/-

“When are you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

Emma and Henry hadn’t been away from the loft five minutes before he questioned why she wanted to go out right after he’d returned from his trip. He had now asked so many times she’d lost count.

“Can a mother not want to spend time with her son after he’s been gone all weekend?”

“Yeah...but you’d never let me have pizza and doughnuts unless something’s up.”

That was true. They had lunch at the local pizza place, followed by a trip to the bakery where she let him eat as many chocolate frosted doughnuts as he wanted. “All right, kid. You’ve got me.” They had taken a walk after leaving the bakery and were now at the park. “There’s something you and I need to talk about.” She walked over to the nearest bench and sat down, motioning for Henry to do the same.

He sat down beside her, worried. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“I’m fine, Henry. Yes, something happened. Nothing bad, just something I’ve put off telling you for way too long now.”

“Is it about my dad?” Henry didn’t miss a beat.

“How did you kno- nevermind. Yes, it’s about your dad.”

“Have you talked to him? Does he know about me? Who is he?”

“Woah, slow down, kid. Yes, I’ve talked to him. He knows about you. In fact, you two have already met.”

“I have?! Who is he?”

Emma had intended to ease him into this slowly, but she could tell from his wide eyes and the way he clutched her arm he wouldn’t give her that option. “He’s your teacher, Henry. Mr. Jones is your dad.”

Henry didn’t seem to understand. Then, “Really?! Mr. Jones?” His sudden excitement wavered. “Why hasn’t he said anything? He’s been acting like my teacher since I started school here. Does he not wanna be my dad?”

“No, Henry! It’s not that. He didn’t know he was your dad until I went to your school and talked to him.”

“So...you never told him about me?”

“I’m so sorry, Henry,” she whispered, the hurt look on his face pricking her eyes with unshed tears. “I know I did you both wrong by keeping you from him. I was scared of what might happen, but that wasn’t fair to you. But,” she clasped his hand in hers, “the important thing is, he knows about you. He wants to be your dad, and I want him to be your dad, too, if you’re okay with it.” She watched as he contemplated everything she’d shared.

He finally smiled and threw his arms around her. “Of course I’m okay with it! I have a dad! And I already know he’s cool. Can I talk to him? Now?”

“Okay, kid. I’ll see if he’s busy.” She released him and grabbed her phone, sending a text to the number he’d given her. I talked to Henry. He wants to see you. Can you come to the playground at the park?

He responded within seconds. On my way.

Henry asked a myriad of questions as they waited. How had they met? What Killian was like? Why was he in Storybrooke? She answered them as well as she could (aside from the last one). “He likes books and movies, like you. I remember he used to be big on Peter Pan. Harry Potter, too.” Henry’s eyes lit up. She knew there would be harder questions (why had they broken up, what their attempt at co-parenting would involve), but at least he knew the truth about Killian.

A few minutes had passed when she spotted headlights as a familiar black Mustang drove into the parking lot. (She couldn’t believe he still drove the old car he’d bought right after they met, when he always gave her a hard time about her bug.) Emma watched as Killian got out and fixed his gaze on them. She worried about what Henry would say. He had taken the news well, but this would overall be the biggest adjustment for him.

Killian approached them slowly, his nervous gaze implying he was just as torn on what to say. Henry, however, solved that problem. When he’d managed to say, “Henry, I-” the boy jumped up from the bench and threw his arms around his father.

Killian looked bewildered; he must have not expected Henry to react so well. He returned the hug.

“So, you’re my dad?”

“Aye.” There was a catch in his voice; Emma realized he was trying not to cry.

He was laughing a moment later as Henry bombarded him with questions. “When’s your birthday? How old are you? Do you know what Hogwarts house you’re in? Mom and I are both Gryffindors. Please tell me you like hot cocoa with cinnamon?”

“Woah, kid. Give him time to catch up,” Emma walked over to them, putting her hand on Henry’s shoulder. “I have a feeling you’ll have plenty of time to talk about Hogwarts houses and hot cocoa.”

They took long walk around the park, Emma hanging back a bit to give Henry a chance to talk to Killian alone. She expected Killian to get tired of the endless questions, but he answered them all and listened to everything Henry said with genuine interest.

It felt like playing devil’s advocate when she noticed the time and had to press pause on their time together. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” she interrupted, catching up to them, “but it’s getting late. Someone still has math homework to finish before bed.” Henry made a sour face.

“She’s right, lad,” Killian agreed. “It’s time I let the two of you go.”

If not for her self restraint, Henry’s disappointed expression would have been enough for her to let him talk to Killian all night. “Okay,” he sighed in defeat. “But we can do this again, right?”

Killian hesitated, looking back and forth between her and Henry. “I’d be more than happy to, but it’s ultimately up to your mother.”

It hurt to hear he still wasn’t convinced Emma would want them spending time together. “Of course,” she told them. “It’ll take time to figure out something for our schedules, but you can absolutely do this again.”

There was much more needed to be discussed, but the sky was growing dark and Henry would need to be in bed soon. Killian hugged him goodbye as he and Emma discussed a time to sit down and talk again, deciding to meet in a few days at the coffee shop.

Henry talked about Killian nonstop the rest of the night, and for the first time in his life, seemed excited about going to school the next morning.

“You realize he still has to be Mr. Jones to you at school, don’t you?” she asked. “He can’t treat you differently because you’re his kid.”

“It’s okay. I’m just happy I have a dad.”

She sent Killian a text after Henry went to bed. Thanks for coming tonight. It meant a lot to him.

It meant a lot to me as well.

Not for the first time that night, Emma regretted the decision to keep a secret ten years ago.

-/-

“What do you think?” Mary Margaret held a bright blue dress up for Emma’s observation.

“It’s gorgeous. The yellow one is nice too, though.” Emma wasn’t sure how she wound up spending her Saturday off helping her sister-in-law find a new dress for the sixth-grade dance she was chaperoning the next weekend.

Oh, wait. It was because Mary Margaret had used the fact Henry wouldn’t be around today as leverage.

As if she’d read her mind, Mary Margaret asked, “What are Henry and Killian up to today?”

“Not sure. I think they were going to see a movie, and to the park if the weather’s nice.” It had been over a month since she told Henry that Killian was his father. Since then, they’d made arrangements for the two of them to spend Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons, as well as every other Saturday together.

“This new arrangement seems to be working out well,” Mary Margaret mused. “Oh! This would look perfect on you.”

A pale pink dress with sleeves was thrust into Emma’s arms. “It still feels weird sharing him,” she admitted, “but it’s good so far. And how many times do I have to tell you I’m not going to that dance? Henry’s not even in sixth grade.”

“Parent chaperones are welcome, too. We don’t have an overwhelming amount of teachers on staff. So Killian’s doing alright at the whole ‘dad’ thing?”

“I wish you’d stick to one subject,” Emma muttered as she put the pink dress away; it was nice, but she didn’t need it. “I mean, I’m not around him all that much. But Henry loves spending time with him, and Killian has his best interests in mind.” To be truthful, she’d been avoiding contact with him other than the occasional text about plans with Henry, and when he was dropped off and picked up on his days with Killian. She had no objections with them spending time together, but was afraid getting too involved would stir up old feelings and cause problems for everyone.

“I’m happy he’s getting to be a part of his life after all this time.”

Emma suppressed a groan. “Are you going to put me on a guilt trip for not telling him about Henry before I did? Because if you are-”

“Relax, Emma,” Mary Margaret cut her off. “I’m saying it’s good the three of you are getting a chance to be a family.”

“I’m sorry, family?”

“Well, you two were in love, and you do have a child together, so…”

“Mary Margaret, I’m glad you’re optimistic. But Killian and I aren’t you and David. Whatever there was between us ended a long time ago. We’re co-parenting, and maybe we can be friends, but don’t get your hopes up for more.”

The look on her sister-in-law’s face showed she was unconvinced, but she dropped the subject.

(Although, Emma had a feeling this conversation was far from over.)

-/-

“Alright, kid. I bought popcorn, milk duds, and hot chocolate mix. All you need to do is pick the movie.”

Emma followed Henry into the loft and kicked the door shut behind her, carrying the bags of things they’d picked up at the store for movie night. She was glad to have time with him. David was working at the station, and Mary Margaret and Killian were both chaperoning the dance tonight. While their last few months in New York had been lonely, it was nice to know her son wanted to spend time with her despite everyone else in his life now.

“I’m thinking a sequel. Maybe Empire Strikes Back or Temple of Doom?”

“Either sounds good to me. Or, I might let you stay up late enough to watch both.”

Henry’s face lit up as he grinned and bolted over to the couch. “Great, let’s start now so you won’t fall asleep.”

“Hey!” Emma protested as she put away their groceries. “I fell asleep during movie night once, and-” She stopped at the sound of her phone ringing. She saw Mary Margaret’s name and prepared for a short conversation; Henry was adamant about making sure no part of a movie was missed.

“Emma? Are you home?”

“Yeah, Henry and I just got in.”

“Oh, thank goodness! I worried you might be out. Is there any way you could do me a favor?”

“Of course.” Something told Emma she should have waited to hear the favor first.

“Great! Because I’m under the weather, and wanted to know if there’s any way you’d consider chaperoning the sixth-grade dance for me? It’s required a certain amount of adults be there.”

Mary Margaret didn’t sound under the weather. “I’m the only one that could do it? I’m sure there are dozens of parents who’d love to come embarrass their kids.”

“I would try someone else, but the dance is in less than an hour. I might not have time if I can’t get someone now. Please?” Mary Margaret pleaded. “I’ll owe you one.”

“Yes, you will,” said Emma. “Fine. I’ll find someone for Henry to stay with and throw myself together. What do you wear to a sixth-grade dance?”

“Don’t worry about it. I may have left something in your closet after we went shopping last weekend.”

“What?”

“Thanks a million, you’re the best, bye!” Mary Margaret hung up before Emma could question her further.

Why do I have the feeling she’s got something up her sleeve?

“Sorry, kid.” She sat down beside Henry as he looked through their Netflix queue. “Movie night’s being postponed; I have to go to the dance at your school in Mary Margaret’s place.”

“That’s okay. We can reschedule.”

“Thanks for having a good attitude.” Emma smiled and hugged him. “The problem is finding someone for you to hang out with. Mary Margaret’s sick, and Kil- your dad will be chaperoning the dance, too.” She hadn’t considered this fact until now, and felt nervous. “David’s working, but I’ll see about dropping you off with him if things are quiet at the station.”

“Awesome! I can show him the level I started!” Henry jumped off the couch and bolted upstairs to get his Gameboy.

She arranged to drop Henry off with David on her way to the school. Now, if she could make herself presentable to spend a Saturday night with a crowd of kids...and Killian.

It’s not like it’s a date or anything. She opened the closet to see what Mary Margaret had left her.

The garment bag stood out among her other clothes. Inside held the pink dress they’d found shopping, with a note taped to the hanger: I knew you wouldn’t buy it, but it suited you too well to pass it up. You’re welcome :)

People could say what they wanted about Emma’s sister-in-law, but it they couldn’t deny she had impeccable taste. The dress fit her like a glove, a relief as she had little to choose from besides the short, tight numbers from her bail bonds jobs not suited for a night spent with a bunch of prepubescent teens.

She finished getting ready twenty minutes before the dance was to start, leaving enough time to leave Henry with David and drive over to the school. The parking lot was crowded; Mary Margaret must not have been kidding when she said all school employees were to help.

There was a chill in the air. Emma shivered as she stepped out of the bug and wished she’d forgone the dress for something warmer. At least she’d thought to grab a sweater on her way out the door. She pulled the grey cardigan around her as she walked into the school, not for the first time wondering what she had gotten into.

The gymnasium was decorated nicely for a dance. The room was filled with the school colors of white and blue, and there were fairy lights strung up everywhere, even the stage where the DJ stood. He looked to be in his late teens, as if this dance were the last place he wanted to be.

Emma scanned the room for familiar faces, a regular customer at Granny’s or the librarian Henry liked. Socializing hadn’t been high on her priority list since moving thanks to more important things. She remembered there should be a face in the crowd that was more than familiar, and the thought had her stomach in knots. She considered turning back and walking out while she had the chance when she saw him standing alone to the side.

Glancing at him was enough to make Emma stop in her tracks. She knew she would see him tonight - that was inevitable. She didn’t know he’d manage to have such an effect on her after all these years.

He wore all black: leather jacket, button up shirt, jeans, and boots, not unlike the outfits he wore in college. Since reconnecting in Storybrooke, she’d grown used to seeing him in blazers and slacks, like most of the other teachers. It was why seeing him now caught her off guard- for the first time in ten years, it felt like looking at the man she fell in love with.

Killian noticed her then. She realized he had seen her staring and blushed with embarrassment.

“Um, hi,” she said sheepishly when he walked over.

“Hello, love,” He smiled, and she hated the way it made her heart constrict. “Not that I’m unhappy to see you, but what are you doing here? I would’ve assumed you finished sixth-grade by now.”

She laughed. “Smart ass. Mary Margaret’s sick and asked me to fill in her chaperoning duties, whatever those are.”

“Nothing difficult. Just keep an eye on the students and ensure they’re not doing anything unbecoming.”

“They’re in sixth-grade!”

“Aye, but you’d be surprised.” He noticed she was alone. “Where’s Henry?”

“With David. I thought he’d get bored since he doesn’t know many of the older students.” This was the first conversation they’d had without their son since they’d come up with an arrangement for he and Killian spending time together. “He had a lot of fun with you at the movies last weekend. It’s all he’s talked about since.”

Killian smiled. Something told her the words meant more than he let on. “I enjoyed it as well. I, erm, appreciate all the time you’ve allowed him to spend with me.”

She wanted to ask Why wouldn’t I? He’s your son. But she knew the answer: because she’d gone nearly a decade without letting him be a part of Henry’s life. The guilt had eaten at her far before she’d told him the truth, but seeing how he prioritized having a relationship with their son made it worse. “It means a lot that you’ve made room for him in your life,” she told him instead.

The sound of footsteps interrupted them. “Jones, I pay you to work, not to flirt with parents.”

A tall brunette woman glared at Killian, arms crossed over her chest. It took a glance at her pantsuit and heels, plus the description Mary Margaret had given her to assume she was the school’s principal. “Miss Mills?”

The woman looked from Killian to Emma. “Yes? And you are?”

I’m wondering who had the right mind to appoint you head of an elementary school. “I’m Emma Swan, Mary Margaret Blanchard’s sister-in-law. She’s sick so I’m here to chaperone in her place.”

Regina pursed her lips as if she were trying to decide if she approved of Emma. “Yes, the new deputy. I’ve heard about you. Isn’t your son a student here?”

“Yeah. Henry’s in the fourth-grade.” Her eyes flickered to Killian, who had his on Regina. She didn’t know if he had shared the details of his relationship with Henry with anyone else at the school, or in Storybrooke for that matter.

The unassuming look on the principal’s face insinuated he hadn’t. “Well, I appreciate your coming to help. But Mr. Jones needs to stop appreciating it long enough to get extra cups and plates out of the supply closet like I asked him to five minutes ago.” She gestured to the table of refreshments on the other side of the room, which appeared to be stocked with enough cups and plates already.

“I’m sorry,” Emma began. “I shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t worry about it, love.” Killian cut her off. “Apologies, Regina. I’ll get what you need right away.” The principal walked away without responding.

“Is she always like that?”

Killian chuckled. “Usually. The students like her well enough though, and for some reason, so do their parents. Well- most of them,” he corrected when noticing the expression on her face.

“If you say so. Let me help get you get that stuff so I can avoid running into her again.”

Emma followed him out of the gymnasium and down the hall to a closet where they found the plates and cups Regina had so graciously requested.

“Thank you for the help, love,” he told her after they had delivered the supplies, “but you didn’t have to do anything.”

“I wanted to.” They had found themselves back in another corner of the gym, close enough to where they could keep an eye on the kids, but far away enough they could talk without being overheard. “It’s nice to see a familiar face,” she continued. “I’ve kept to myself since moving back. Being somewhere like this is almost unnerving.”

“Aye? I assumed you had a number of friends here.”

“I did in high school, but we grew apart after college, more so after I went to New York. Since then, I’ve been occupied with Henry.” She smiled. “What about you? Life in Storybrooke kept you busy?”

“I’m afraid not. Teaching has been my top priority, other than Henry. I’m ashamed to say I’ve lived here three months, and the only people I come into contact with regularly are my students. And Granny, who tries her hand at flirting when I go in for breakfast.”

Emma snickered. She believed him knowing Granny’s tactics with men,but it surprised her he was a loner now. His charisma made him friends in college. It was odd that aspect changed afterwards, and also another reminder she had no knowledge of his life between graduation and Storybrooke, including his presence there. The thought had been nagging her for weeks now, but she’d always thought it in her best interest not to ask. However, he was the father of her child and now a part of his life. Didn’t that give her the right to know things?

“So...why Storybrooke?”

Killian looked taken aback; he didn’t expect such a loaded question out of nowhere. “Erm, I don’t know. Seemed like a nice place?”

Emma rolled her eyes. They’d already established he couldn’t get a lie past her. “I’m serious, Killian. You decided to ditch Seattle for a place you’d never been to before, let alone my hometown?”

“What makes you think I was in Seattle?”

“You weren’t?”

“Well, yes. But I’m pointing out you don’t know as much about my life as you think.”

“I would if you would tell me!” she exclaimed. Her voice dropped to a whisper when she realized she’d attracted the attention of a group of kids nearby. “I’m not saying you need to spill all your secrets, but you’ve got to admit the Storybrooke thing doesn’t add up from my side.”

Killian realized she wouldn’t let it go. “Fine. If you bloody insist, I’ll tell you. Just not here.”

She was confused when he gestured for her to follow him out. “Aren’t we supposed to watch the kids?”

“Yes. But I don’t think our present company will be offended with our absence.”

Emma glanced around the room. Most of the kids were either tapping at their phones or sulking in the corner, waiting to leave. The other chaperones were talking among themselves. It took seeing Regina with her back turned for her to give in and follow him.

They ended up in his classroom, Emma leaning against the closed door and he on his desk, looking as if this were the last conversation in the world he wanted to have.

“You want to know why I left Seattle?”

“Yeah, but particularly why you’re in Storybrooke.”

Killian rubbed a hand over his face as he thought. “Well, where to start? I graduated, moved to Seattle, went to grad school. My intentions were to get involved with publishing, but I was drawn to teaching instead. I didn’t care about age groups or specifics, just wanted to help educate and inspire students as my teachers did for me. I taught in community colleges until I got involved with a mentoring program and ended up transitioning to primary schools.”

“Which explains the job here,” she finished for him.

“Aye. I was content in Seattle, but it didn’t feel like home. That is, until-” he paused, looking uncomfortable. “Until I met Milah. We met at a school district meeting a little over a year ago. She taught at another school in the city, third grade. We became friends, but it didn’t take long to grow into something else. I knew she and her husband had just separated, but I’ll admit I was so caught up in the moment I never gave it much thought. We’d been together a few months when their teenage son begged her to give his father another chance. She agreed. And that’s the end of it.”

The crestfallen look on his face made her heart ache for him. “I’m so sorry, Killian.”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s alright. I don’t have any ill will towards her. It’s understandable why she wanted to make things work for the lad’s sake. I just hoped things would be different. Anyway,” he continued, “this happened, oh, three or four months ago. I realized I needed to move on - from Seattle, from everything. It sounds crazy, but…” he looked hesitant. “I came to Storybrooke because of you, love.”

Emma was bewildered. “Because of me? I thought you didn’t know I was here.”

“Trust me, I didn’t. As I said, I’d decided to leave Seattle. I didn’t know where to go next, but I began to make preparations and hoped a solution would come eventually. I was packing up my apartment when I came across a handful of photos you’d given me in school, not long after we started dating.”

“Oh?”

“Aye. You’d come home for the weekend - you invited me, but I was working. Mary Margaret had taken pictures of you in spots across Storybrooke- the town square, the harbor. I looked through them again, saw how happy you looked. I knew I wanted a change from the city, and thought perhaps it was a sign. Maybe it was crazy, Emma, to feel so strongly about a place I’d never been, but I did. I moved at the first of the year and got my teaching job. And that’s it.”

Killian was right: it was crazy to a certain extent. She’d impacted his coming to Storybrooke just as she’d decided to come back herself.

Mary Margaret would have called it fate, but Emma wasn’t sure what to call it yet.

“Killian?” It was hard to think of the right thing to say. “I don’t know it this helps, but I’m glad you ended up in Storybrooke.”

His smile made her heart still in a way it hadn’t in ten years. “Aye, love. So am I.”

-/-

That night at the school changed something between them. Their brief texts about his time with Henry had become long conversations on everything from Netflix to foreign foods to books she’d read via his recommendations. (She vividly remembered when they’d stayed up past two in the morning comparing Lord of the Rings to the Narnia books. She had been exhausted at work the next day, but regretted none of it.)

They’d also been spending time together with Henry. It started unintentionally- Killian arrived at Granny’s one afternoon when she and Henry were having lunch, and Emma invited him to join. Their son, who had enjoyed spending time with both of his parents, asked if it could be a regular occurrence. Emma saw no reason to object. The three of them now had lunch together once a week, sometimes more if their schedules permitted it. They’d also gone to the movies a few times, along with a few school events Henry participated in.

Emma could easily imagine the wheels in Mary Margaret’s head turning whenever Killian was mentioned. Her sister-in-law hadn’t asked for details on their relationship since that day in the dress shop, but she didn’t have to mention it. Emma knew she held out hope for some kind of fairytale romance.

But Mary Margaret wasn’t alone. Recently, Emma and Henry had been eating dinner when her son stopped rambling about Star Wars to ask, “Are you and my dad gonna get back together?”

She nearly choked on her spaghetti. “Uh, what makes you ask, kid?” she’d responded after downing a generous amount of water. “Did Killian say something to you about this?” She hated how her pulse quickened at the thought.

“No. But you’ve started spending more time together and stuff. I figured something changed.”

A lot had changed, but explaining that to a nine-year old would be difficult. “It’s not always that simple, Henry. Your dad and I are on good terms and have been trying to spend time with you as a family, but that doesn’t mean we could get back together.”

Emma worried he would be upset, but he shrugged. “I just don’t think you should be afraid of giving him another chance.”

I’m not afraid of giving him another chance she thought. It’s him who I’m worried about not giving another chance to me.

-/-

Henry was up to something.

Emma had suspected as much for the past week, but it became hard to ignore by Friday. He’d been spending a large amount of alone time in his room, and ran out the door that morning with barely a word for her. It stung since he’d be spending the afternoon and the next day with Killian, but she assumed it was normal, maybe even preparation for his teenage years when he’d be embarrassed to admit she existed.

The station was busy, causing her to forget about Henry’s behavior. But she was abruptly reminded of it when Killian called after four. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Is Henry with you?” He sounded frantic.

“No. I thought he was hanging out with you today?”

“Bloody hell, he was supposed to. I had a meeting with a parent after school and asked him to wait in the school library with Belle until I finished. That was twenty minutes ago, and he never came.”

Emma’s heart dropped. “And you don’t know where he could be?” She tried to ignore the terrifying scenarios running through her mind. Storybrooke may have been a small, safe town, but she knew thanks to working in law enforcement the worst was capable of happening.

“We were supposed to go to the park after my meeting, but I don’t see why he would have gone alone.” He let out a string of muffled curses. “I’m sorry, Emma. If anything’s happened to him-”

“Don’t talk like that!” she interrupted. “This isn’t your fault. I’m sure he wandered off, you know how easily distracted he is. I’ll come to the school and we can look for him.”

Emma drove up at the school minutes later. She’d probably broken a dozen traffic violations in the process, but there was little chance David would put his deputy behind bars.

Killian waited on the sidewalk, and she motioned for him to get in the car. “He just left?!” she asked as soon as he was seated beside her.

“Aye. Some of the teachers saw him leaving, but assumed he was going to get on the bus.”

“Shit,” she swore as she put the car in drive and pulled onto the road. The only solution she knew of was driving around until they found some sign of him. “Why the hell would he do something like this? I don’t let him walk up the street to Granny’s alone.”

“I’ve no idea. It’s certainly not like him.”

They drove into town, hoping to see Henry sitting on a bench or looking in a store window. Emma had driven up the same street twice now when she asked, “Didn’t you say you were going to the park? Maybe he’s there.”

“It’s worth trying.” She stopped in the middle of the road and made a sharp U-turn, not noticing when Killian grabbed the handle above his seat. She felt her stomach spin right along with the car and ignored the sounds of blaring car horns and curses from their exasperated drivers. Her son was worth committing a traffic violation for.

Seeing their son playing his Gameboy by the park entrance nearly made Emma cry with relief. “Henry!” she called as they approached him. “What are you doing here? You had us worried sick! You know you shouldn’t have come alone.”

“Sorry.” The boy winced as Emma embraced him. “I wanted to get you both here.”

“Lad, if that were the case, I could easily have asked your mother to join us.” He tried to smile, but she could tell his nerves were shot, like her own.

Henry hung his head, realizing how much stress he’d caused. “Sorry,” he apologized again.

“It’s okay, just don’t do it again. Now, why did you want us both here?”

“Oh.” She released him as he reached into his backpack and looked through its contents. “I brought you here for your date.”

Emma was sure she misheard him. She and Killian looked back and forth from each other to their son, confused. “Kid, what are you talking about?”

“I figured you wouldn’t give each other another chance without a push. So, here’s your push.” He pulled a paper bag from his backpack and held it up. “I got donuts from the bakery. Dibs on the chocolate frosted.”

He set them up for a date? “For the record, I had nothing to do with this, Swan,” Killian explained. “Er, not that I truly mind the idea of- nevermind.”

Henry took a donut (chocolate frosted) and gave the bag to her. “I’m gonna take this and play my Game Boy over there.” He nodded toward another bench several feet away. “And you two are gonna eat donuts and talk about...whatever grown ups talk about. I threw this together in a hurry.” He took his things and ran to the other bench before she or Killian could object.

“Apologies, love. I don’t know where he got the idea from.”

“I do,” she admitted. “He’s been asking questions about us. But I didn’t picture him going this far.”

She and Killian stared at each other, both at a loss for words. He broke the silence by gesturing to the bag in her hands. “Might as well take advantage of those. Don’t want them to go to waste.” He smiled, and she couldn’t help but laugh despite how awkward it all was.

His questionable decisions aside, Emma couldn’t stay mad at Henry as she polished off a bear claw. Killian sat on the opposite side of the bench, eating his own donut and pointedly avoiding her gaze. They’d both used the food as an excuse to sit in awkward silence, but there were things needed to be discussed.

“I’ve got to give Henry some credit,” Killian said. “He’s a smart lad.”

“I’m sorry. I really had no idea he’d do this. I understand if this makes you uncomfortable.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Why would it make me uncomfortable, love?”

Emma felt uncomfortable thinking of a response. It would be difficult to answer without revealing her feelings for him. “What we’ve got going with Henry has been great. But I don’t want this,” she gestured to the bag of donuts between them “to make you to feel like you owe me something more because have a kid together.”

“This doesn’t make me feel anything like that, Swan.”

Her heart sank. “What do you mean?” She was scared to hear the answer. Was he going to tell her any chance of rekindling what they had was gone?

“What I mean is that I’ve spent the better part of ten years trying to move on from you. I thought perhaps as time passed, it would be easier to put things behind me. But that never worked.” Killian looked at her with such intense fervor in his eyes that she found it impossible to tear her gaze from him. “I attempted to stay occupied with school, and then my job after graduating. I told you about Milah, and while I cared for her a great deal, I wonder now if things would have worked out between us. Because I’ve accepted that my heart is yours, love. I think it always has been.”

Emma stared at him, dumbfounded. His words had put most of her fears to rest. “Are you saying you want another go at this?” she asked, her voice uneven. “At us?”

“That’s ultimately up to you. But, if I’m being truthful, then, yes. I do.”

She looked away from him, staring at her hands folded in her lap. “You’re putting a lot of faith in me considering I fucked up the last time. Killian, I was too scared to consider us having a future. I kept Henry from you for ten years!”

“Which I’ve since forgiven you for.”

“Still, that doesn’t mean I won’t unintentionally do something to hurt you again. I don’t want you to put your heart on the line when I’m not sure I can be the person you deserve.”

“You don’t have to be sure for me to know what I want. I have faith in you, love. I only wish you had it in yourself.”

Emma bit her lip to hold back the tears that pricked her eyes. He was again choosing to see the best in her despite everything that happened in the past. The real question was, could she put aside her own fears and insecurities to do the same?

“Okay,” she breathed.

“Okay?”

“I’m willing to give this a chance.” She glanced at him hesitantly. “That is, if you’re really sure.”

The grin on his face was enough to answer her. “I’ve never been more sure of anything, Swan.”

“Go out with me?” she asked before she lost her nerve. “Henry did a nice job with the donuts and all, but-”

“Of course,” he answered, understanding she’d like something nicer for what would technically be their second first date. “I accept on one condition: you let me plan the evening.”

“I know how to plan a date!”

“I’m sure you do. Just let me have this one, Swan, and the next is all yours.”

“Next? Confident, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps,” he smirked. If it had been anyone else, she would’ve argued, but there was no winning this. Besides, she was eager to see what he had in mind.

“Just let me know where and when.”

“Would tonight be too soon?” he asked. “I’m sure it’s inconvenient, but considering how much time we’ve lost already…”

He didn’t need to finish for her to understand. “Yeah, of course. Henry can stay with David and Mary Margaret.” She didn’t know if they were free tonight, but figured this was the perfect time to cash in on helping Mary Margaret with the dance several weeks ago.

“Perfect. I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

-/-

“Where are you going?” Henry leaned against the bathroom doorway and watched as she stood at the mirror getting ready.

“No idea. Your dad’s doing all the planning.” Emma finished her makeup and began to style her hair, the brush shaking a bit in her hands. She hadn’t expected to be so nervous. It had been over a year since her last date, but this was different. Tonight would determine if she and Killian were capable of fully rekindling their relationship.

She saw Henry smirk out of the corner of her eye. “Bet you’re not so mad at me for setting you up today, are you?”

“No. Just don’t do it again,” she reminded him, tying her hair into a low ponytail and following him out of the bathroom. “You should get your stuff and head up to David and Mary Margaret’s. Killian should be here soon.” Truthfully, she didn’t want Henry around when his father arrived in case he asked questions they couldn’t answer yet.

Ten minutes later, Henry was upstairs with his aunt and uncle. Emma had never told Mary Margaret why she needed a babysitter, and groaned as she thought of the lecture she’d receive once she and David found out she’d been with Killian. She finished dressing in her outfit from the school dance as there was a knock at the door. Her heart pounded as she grabbed her purse and gave herself a once-over in the mirror.

She didn’t know what to expect when she opened the door. But seeing Killian also dressed in his outfit from the dance made her want to laugh. (She thought of the Halloween party they’d attended not long after they met. They surprised each other by both dressing as Harry Potter characters. He told her that night they were more alike than they thought, and he wasn’t wrong.) And maybe something else, too. The way the leather jacket and tight jeans clung to him had ignited something in her several weeks ago she’d almost forgotten had existed. But tonight, it was all for her, and she felt warm enough to melt into a puddle at his feet.

“You look stunning, Swan.”

She struggled for words “You look-”

“I know.” He held out his hand and she took it, closing the door behind her.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see, love. I think you’ll approve.”

They walked hand in hand across town, reminiscent of the nights they ditched homework for walking around Boston together for hours. If not for Henry and everything else that happened over the past decade, she might have found it possible to believe no time had passed.

“Here we are.” Killian stopped when they arrived at the Italian restaurant by the docks. She and Henry had come a few times since moving to Storybrooke, and it had since become one of their favorite places. “The lad might have mentioned your liking for the lasagna.”

“He was right,” she told him as they walked inside. “Don’t tell Granny, but it’s not the same frozen.”

“Careful, Swan. You may find yourself in trouble if someone overhears you.”

The night went better than she could have hoped for. All talk of heartbreak and the past was put aside for casual conversation, again like the nights they spent together during their senior year when homework and professors were their biggest problems.

“I’m afraid you’re right, love,” Killian agreed when she’d convinced him to try the lasagna. “This is certainly better than whatever it is that Granny serves.”

“And you told me to watch my words. You’d be in jeopardy of not being her favorite customer anymore if she finds out.”

She told him stories of difficult bail jumpers she encountered in New York, and he shared the shenanigans of his last group of students in Seattle. Although she’d learned he was in Storybrooke several months ago now, it was still difficult to comprehend how they wound up back in each other’s orbit after so much time apart.

“You seem to be doing a wonderful job with your class.” Emma smiled as she took a bite from the ice cream dish they’d decided to split after dinner. “I can’t speak for the other kids, but Henry’s grades are the best they’ve ever been.”

Killian shrugged as his face flushed pink with slight embarrassment. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I can’t take much credit. He’s a smart lad...although I may be slightly biased. You’ve done well with him, Swan.”

“So have you. No, I mean it,” Emma continued when he looked unconvinced. “I know it’s only been a few months now, but you mean the world to him and I can already tell what a positive impact you’ve had on his life. Don’t sell yourself short.”

He reached across the table for her hand and held it in his for a moment before replying. “You don’t know how much that means to me, love.”

“It’s true. Even though it disappoints him you don’t think Pop Tarts are an acceptable breakfast.”

“I’m just looking out for the boy’s health! Swan, are you aware of how much sugar and chemicals are in those bloody things?”

“The sugar and chemicals are what make those bloody things good.” She laughed as he cringed at her poor imitation of his accent.

Emma realized how much she wanted this as he sat across from her and talked about their son, telling her some joke Henry had shared with him in class the day before. There might always be fear of the worst happening or walls of hers needing to be broken down, but something told her it would be worth it. Killian had proved over the last few months he was in for the long haul as far as Henry was concerned. It wasn’t hard to believe he’d do the same for her.

There was a shared sense of disappointment when they arrived back at her apartment. “I would invite you in for coffee, but I should get Henry from David and Mary Margaret. It’s almost his bedtime.”

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait until next time.”

“Again with the next time? I don’t remember asking.”

“That’s because it’s my turn. Will you go out with me again?” A hint of anticipation flickered in his eyes- not nervousness, but desire.

Emma knew her answer before the words left his mouth. But instead of speaking, she responded the way she’d wanted to for weeks now.

Killian saw her leaning in and closed the distance between them. The first press of his lips to hers was soft, hesitant even. She encouraged him for more, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him flush against her. His own hands moved to her waist, under the jacket she’d pilfered from him at the restaurant.

It was hard not to groan when his tongue traced the seam of her lips, and like everything tonight, it reminded her what could exist between them. There were many things she loved about Killian Jones, but his ability to set her heart racing like nothing else stood out among the rest.

(Yes, she loved him. She was done trying to deny it.)

Regretfully, he broke the kiss to come up for air. “That was…”

“Yeah.”

“I should let you go.” She slipped off his jacket and returned it to him. “Tell the lad I’ll see him tomorrow?”

“I will. Night, Killian.”

“Goodnight, love.”

-/-

As expected, David and Mary Margaret lost their minds over the date.

Mary Margaret seemed disappointed she missed out on “all the fun.” David crossed his arms and asked a number of thorough questions.

“We had dinner, Dad.” Emma rolled her eyes.

“I’m making sure he was a gentleman!”

The questions continued when they came over Tuesday night.

“When are you going out again? What are you going to do? Have you picked an outfi-”

“Geez, Mary Margaret,” Emma interrupted. “Can we slow down a bit?”

“Sorry! I’m excited.”

“Just be glad she’s not like Uncle David,” Henry pointed out. “Then you’d have both acting like your parents.”

“Hey!” the uncle in question protested.

Emma smiled. “It’s okay, David. I’m glad you care so much.” She turned to Mary Margaret. “I don’t know when we’re going out or what we’re doing. I’ll choose my outfit when the time comes.”

“Go out Saturday. I’m going to a sleepover at Nicholas’,” her son informed her.

“When were you going to tell me this?”

“Uh, now?”

“Good call. I’ll see if he’s doing anything Saturday night.”

Mary Margaret squealed with joy.

David leaned over and whispered, “I think she’s more excited than you.”

“You think?”

-/-

Emma lost count of how many times she’d cleaned the apartment on Saturday. When she came back from taking Henry to his sleepover at six, it felt like returning to a stranger’s home. It hadn’t been this tidy since they moved in. Killian hadn’t minded her messy college apartment years earlier, but she prefered resembling a mature adult who somewhat had her life together.

She’d invited him over at seven for pizza and a movie. It seemed like a boring date, but Killian wasn’t hard to please, and the pizza place delivered.

(The added bonus of having the loft to herself tonight didn’t hurt.)

Killian arrived at five to seven, after the pizza was dropped off.

“Hello, love.”

“Hi.” She stepped back from the door to let him in. “Thanks for coming. I know it’s not anything exciting, but…”

“Nonsense. Time spent in your company is exciting enough.”

“I’m glad you think so.” She stood on her toes to kiss him briefly, and it was enough to ignite the feeling in her stomach she refused to call ‘butterflies’. “Is Prisoner of Azkaban still your favorite Harry Potter movie?” They’d broken up before the last few were released, but she doubted this had changed thanks to his fondness for Lupin.

“Aye.”

“Good. If you still like bacon on pizza, we’re in luck.”

He did like bacon on pizza, thankfully. Said pizza was demolished as they watched Harry use the Marauder’s map to sneak into Hogsmeade.

“I can see why this is your favorite,” she said. “No one dies.”

“That is an upside.” He chuckled. “I recall less than pleasant memories seeing the others.” They’d gone with David and Mary Margaret to the midnight premiere for Order of the Phoenix, and all four cried multiple times before it ended.

“Do you remember the Halloween we both dressed in Gryffindor robes? I thought of it last Friday when we wore the same clothes from the school dance.”

“I remember. I said something along the lines of us being more alike than you thought.”

“More than being in the same Hogwarts house?”

“Much more.” He smiled. “I never told you this, but that night was when I started to fall in love with you.”

“Really? We barely knew each other, aside from complaining about Gold in class.”

“That didn’t matter. Seeing you so excited about your house robe and wand did something for me, and by the end of the night, I knew you were special. For the record,” he continued, “my thoughts haven’t changed.”

Emma didn’t hesitate before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and fusing her mouth with his. She could tell the kiss surprised him, but he quickly welcomed it, one hand on her hip and the other tangled in her hair. It wasn’t unlike their kiss in the hall, but still different. Last time she’d needed to tend to Henry, and this thing between them was still new. Tonight, there were no distractions, and she was certain of what she wanted.

She found herself in Killian’s lap, and ran her fingers through his messy hair as he continued to kiss her. His hand slipped under the hem of her sweater to rest on her waist, and she gasped slightly at the feel of it against her skin. He pulled back. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t-“

She cut him off with another kiss and reassured him by guiding his hand back to her waist. “Don’t apologize.”

It hadn’t taken long for the kiss to become something more. It took even less time after she angled her hips just right against his and he gasped “Swan” against her lips for her to stand, taking his hand and guiding him to her bedroom.

(Neither of them paid mind to the movie still playing or the pizza box they’d knocked onto the floor. They had ten years of lost time to make up for.)

-/-

Emma woke the next morning with an arm around her waist and lips pressing kisses to her bare shoulder. “Morning, love.”

“Morning. Sleep well?”

“Not a wink. Certain blonde kept me up all night.”

The sound of her laugh was cut off by the door to the apartment slamming shut. “Mom?”

“Dammit!” She’d forgotten Nicholas’ parents were bringing Henry home. “Just a minute, kid!” she called when she heard footsteps outside her room. “I’m getting dressed.” She jumped out of bed and grabbed an outfit from the closet as Killian quickly dressed in his own clothes.

“What are you going to tell him, Swan?”

“That’s a good question. There are some things I’m not ready for our nine year old to learn about yet.”

“I understand, but it’s not as if we have many options.”

She tried to think of a solution, and was contemplating telling Henry the awkward truth when he called, “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Now!” She brought Killian out when she heard the water turn on. “He’ll think you came over for breakfast or something.”

They were making pancakes when Henry emerged fifteen minutes later, wet hair plastered to his head. “Dad?”

“Morning, lad.”

“Did you have fun at Nicholas’?” Emma asked.

“Yeah. His mom made brownies and let us watch The Avengers.” He sat down at the kitchen table. “I didn’t know you guys were having a sleepover too.”

She nearly dropped the bowl of pancake batter as she and Killian stared at each other dumbfounded. “What makes you think that?”

“Nice job trying to trick me, but the coat rack gave it away when I got home.” Sure enough, Killian’s jacket still hung where he’d left it last night.

“There’s no point in trying to fool him, Swan,” Killian whispered. “He’s smarter than either of us.”

Emma turned to Henry. “Are you okay with all this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? You’re happy. I’m happy. And there’s pancakes!”

She pulled him into a hug and laughed at his groan when she kissed the top of his head. “Sorry, kid. I’m not stopping anytime soon.” She extended her arm towards Killian, and he embraced both of them.

“I love you guys,” Henry said. “But can I have pancakes now?”

-/-

“Eight fifteen, guys. Time to go!”

It was Henry’s first day of fifth grade, his last year in elementary school. Emma had mixed feelings about how much he’d grown over the last eight months, but was grateful there were eight years before things like college and adulthood came into the picture.

Killian came out of the bedroom as she finished making Henry’s sandwich. “Ready, lad?” he called up the stairs, adjusting the sleeve of his blazer.

“I’ll be down in a minute.”

He had moved into the loft with them once his lease had ended over the summer. They discussed buying a house in the future, but their current arrangement suited them for now.

She smiled as she glanced over her shoulder and saw him dressed in his normal work attire, complete with the reading glasses she’d taken such a liking to. “How prepared are we for the new class, Professor Jones?” The nickname had stuck since she’d admitted to comparing him to Harrison Ford the first time she saw him wearing the glasses in his classroom.

He came up behind her in the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I’m expecting all to go well. The children I met at open house seemed to like me. Although it’s going to be odd without Henry in the room.”

“All his future teachers have big shoes to fill.” She knew Henry would miss being in Killian’s class, but he’d already taken a liking to Ariel, the fifth grade teacher who’d moved to Storybrooke a few months earlier.

Their son came barreling down the stairs, school bag in one hand and a book in the other. “I’m ready.”

She pulled away from Killian long enough to kiss him goodbye, much to his chagrin. “I’ll see you this afternoon. Love you.”

Henry tried to nonchalantly wipe his cheek where she’d kissed it with his shirt sleeve. “Love you too.”

Killian pulled her back to him and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Remember we’re having dinner at David and Mary Margaret’s. They’ll get suspicious if we’re late again,” she whispered where Henry couldn’t hear, thinking of the moment in the backseat of her bug that made them nearly twenty minutes late for the last family dinner. It was obvious her brother and sister-in-law hadn’t believed whatever excuse they’d come up with.

“I’ll be there. I’ll even come early, if that’s any consolation.”

“It is.”

“Good. Do I get a kiss goodbye as well?”

“I’ll consider it.” Emma turned in his arms and leaned in just as Henry made a gagging sound.

“Ugh! You guys are so gross!”

“Get used to it, kid.” She smiled as she kissed his father. “Something tells me this won’t change anytime soon.” That something was the ring box she knew was hidden in the back of Killian’s sock drawer. She’d found it last week when putting away the laundry, and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. Maybe their six-month anniversary dinner Saturday night would be more eventful than she’d thought.

“Not if I have anything to do with it, love,” Killian agreed. He turned to Henry. “And I’d be nice to me if I were you. Notice I didn’t object when you put Pop Tarts in the cart at the store yesterday.”

“Huh. Love sure does make you do strange things.”

#cslb #cs ff #cs au #captain swan #meredith writes #captain swan ff #cs fic #cs fanfics #captain swan fanfiction

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therumbellehappyendingaward-blog · 6 years

Text

Chapter 2 writer: @boushh2187

PROMPT: KNIT

AO3: HERE

Rumple couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Maurice had been keeping this from Belle for years, and if it weren’t for some children bothering their son, Belle would have known nothing about it. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to Belle. She took it and began dabbing at her eyes and her sniffling nose.

“Did he say anything else?” he asked, as he took her gently by the arm and led her down a few steps.

They often would spend late afternoons on these steps, watching Gideon ride his bicycle back and forth in the warm afternoon light. They both settled down on one of the lower steps, and Rumple looked at Belle expectantly.

“All he said was that he wasn’t supposed to talk about any of it. I don’t know what “it” is. He wouldn’t say anything more. Honestly… I’m not sure I want to know more just yet either. This has really thrown me, Rumple. All my life I’ve believed this man was my father. He lied to me. My mother lied to me.”

Rumpled rubbed her back soothingly. “It’s understandable that you need some time.”

“I’m going to get the truth out of him.”

The sound of the door behind them startled them both. “The truth about what?” Gideon asked as he sat on one of the steps above them.

“Son, your mother needs a moment.” Belle put her hand on Rumple’s arm and squeezed. He stopped and looked back at her.

“It’s OK. I don’t want to keep anything from Gideon, even for a moment.”

“This sounds serious.” Gideon’s eyes were wide as he looked between his parents.

“I’m afraid I learned something this afternoon that isn’t going to help with your school friends.” Belle took a deep breath. “Your grandfather… Maurice… he just informed me that he isn’t my biological father. He refused to tell me anything more than that, but I’ll find out more soon. He can’t keep this kind of information from me any longer.”

“Mum, I’m sorry.” Gideon hugged his mother, and Rumple could hear her sniffle a bit more against Gideon’s shoulder. Being on the top step afforded Gideon the extra height, and Rumple couldn’t help but smile a bit at the sight of his son being so supportive of his mother. He squeezed Gideon’s shoulder to show his appreciation.

“We’ll find some other way to help you with your situation, Gideon,” Belle promised.

“Mum, don’t worry about it right now. I’m sorry I made such a big deal out of it…” Gideon’s voice trailed off as he turned to look at his father. Gideon must have seen the determination on Rumple’s face.

“I have a way, son. We don’t need Maurice for it. I just need the three of us. We will gather your classmates and anyone else who has doubts. Tomorrow. At the shop, or better yet, on the school grounds. Right after school. Tell Robin to spread the word. They won’t be disappointed.”

“Rumple, what are you planning?” Belle asked, with trepidation creeping into her voice.

“Oh don’t worry. It will be a harmless display. One might even consider it beautiful. Trust me.”

Belle raised an eyebrow at him, and he grinned. It seemed as if this had gotten her mind off of Maurice’s revelation, at least for the moment.

“All right! I trust you, Papa. First I’m going to get the cookies out of the oven, and then I’m texting Robin!” Gideon bolted up and sprinted back into the house.

“Well at least he looks happy, and I haven’t ruined things for him.”

“Belle, you are the greatest light in his life, just as you are mine. You could never ruin anything for him.”

*****

It took one text to Robin and the news spread out to the entire student body, as well as their parents. The next afternoon, when the last bell rang, Rumple and Belle were ready. Students and teachers seemed to spill out of the school. Parents waited for students outside, taking backpacks for their children, or giving them afternoon snacks for the road. Some lingered behind, while others went on their way. Those that lingered could easily spot Rumplestiltskin in Mr. Gold’s signature three piece suit. In actual fact it was a new suit, but the tie and pocket square he wore were a gift from Gideon on Father’s day. They gave his black suit a bit of dark blue color. Belle always seemed to enjoy some color in his ensemble. He knew he stood out amongst the greenery of the school grounds. Truth be told, despite his short stature, he always stood out among the townsfolk of Storybrooke.

Belle seemed to agree. She approached him with an appreciative smile on her face. She stood in front of him wearing a lovely blue dress. She adjusted his tie, and then ran her hands along the front of his suit jacket. “I approve of the choice in attire.”

“Why thank you. I do try.” He winked at her, and she laughed out loud.

He looked over her shoulder and noticed the crowd gathering. “Are we attracting an audience?” she asked without turning around.

“Most definitely.”

“Good,” she said, and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“Putting on a show, sweetheart?”

“No. Just some appreciation for my husband. You’re the one who has promised a show.” She took his hand, and turned to face the gathering people of Storybrooke Elementary.

Within a moment, Gideon trotted toward them. He could be heard politely excusing himself through the crowd. He held a small folding table.

“Here you go. I thought it might come in handy.” Gideon opened the folding table, and blew the hair out of his face. He let out a big sigh, obviously having carried the table quite a distance from the school.

“Good thinking, son.” Rumple picked up the small case he had set down on the ground when he arrived. He placed it flat on the folding table, and surveyed the crowd. Snow and David had just emerged from the school. David was carrying Snow’s bags. Zelena could also be seen in the back, while Robin had situated herself close to the front.

Rumple glanced at Belle and Gideon. “Are you two ready?” They nodded. Gideon was fidgeting somewhat, but Rumple knew that his son really wanted to get this done.

“It’s showtime.” Rumple spoke the words quietly to Belle and Gideon, and then loudly addressed the crowd. “Parents and students of Storybrooke Elementary. It has been brought to our attention that there are questions concerning Gideon Gold’s parentage.”

“We are here to put those questions to rest, even though we shouldn’t have to,” Belle continued for Rumple. “After today we fully expect the questions to come to a stop.”

“A complete stop,” Rumple reinforced, in a tone that was not to be challenged. Gideon continued to fidget beside him.

“Take a few deep breaths,” Belle whispered to Gideon. In the crowd, Robin gave Gideon a thumbs up.

Rumple turned and opened the case. He removed a vial with a small amount of liquid inside it. “This is a locator potion. Some of you have some experience with this. David over there, for example, used it to find Jefferson many years ago. It requires an object belonging to the person that one wants to find. In this case we will be using it a bit differently, but the basic premise is the same.”

Rumple placed the vial back in the case, and picked up a scissor. He could hear murmuring amongst the crowd.

“Belle, if you would be so kind as to allow me to take a single strand of hair.”

“Of course.” Belle smiled and turned her back towards him. Rumple raised the scissor and snipped a strand of her hair. He placed the scissor down and reached into the case to remove an empty vial. He placed the hair inside it. He glanced at the audience. They were certainly paying close attention.

“Now I will take a strand of hair from atop of my own head.” He plucked a hair from the top of his head so that it could be easily viewed by the audience. He still held the vial with Belle’s hair inside it. He took his own hair and placed it inside.

The reaction inside the vial was immediate. Rumple had seen this reaction before, when he’d done the same with Snow and Charming’s hairs. The two hairs intertwined on their own. He could see the audience squinting, trying to see what was happening. There was no question after what happened next. The two hairs glowed and floated together intertwined in the vial. There was an audible gasp.

“Just what exactly are we seeing?” a woman shouted from the middle of the audience.

“What exactly does that prove?” a younger male voice shouted immediately after.

“True love!” Gideon shouted back. Belle gently held him back. He had pitched himself forward in a defiant stance.

“He’s bottled true love,” Snow’s voice could be heard from the back. “He’s done it before.”

“You are correct. True love. The most powerful magic of all,” Rumple said. “And now I must ask our son Gideon to assist in the demonstration. Gideon will move away from us and hide amongst the crowd. I will turn my back so that I will not see where he has placed himself. Go ahead, son. Hide.” Rumple turned around, and Gideon moved forward.

A few minutes later, Belle tapped Rumple’s arm. “He’s ready,” she said.

Rumple turned around and took hold of the two vials he had used thus far. He held the locator potion in one hand and the bottled true love in the other. “Now what I will do is pour a small amount of the locator potion in this vial full of true love and we will watch it find the product of our true love, wherever he might be.”

Rumple poured the locator potion into the vial filled with true love and immediately a burst of yellow light emanated from the vial. The light emerged from the vial and sparkled much like pixie dust. It flew up into the air and left a trail behind it as it searched for Gideon. It almost looked like a golden, sparkly snake-like creature as it searched. The crowd gasped as the light ventured out among them. Finally it stopped near the back left of the crowd. It swirled high in the air at first and then it lowered itself, turning in wider and wider horizontal circles. The crowd backed away from it to reveal Gideon who was in the center of the swirling light.

“Any questions?” Rumple asked. He could hear Belle stifle a laugh beside him, and Gideon smiled broadly in the distance.

*****

The door of the flower shop, “Game of Thorns”, closed behind them. Rumplestiltskin turned the sign from open to closed, and locked the door. Belle’s high heels clicked on the tile floor as she approached the counter. Maurice stood there, mouth slightly ajar. Their success at the school had given Belle extra confidence to face Maurice and learn the truth.

“You need to tell me all of it. All of what you know,” Belle began, the emotion evident in her voice.

Rumple moved and stood behind her. He had brought his cane and he placed it in front of him. He leaned against it with both hands, and stared at Maurice. It was meant to be a nudge. A strong nudge.

“Belle, I told you. I was forbidden to speak of it.”

Belle ignored that. “Was Colette my real mother?”

“Yes.”

“Then who was my father?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then tell me what you do know! Please!”

Maurice sighed and bowed his head. “All I can tell you is this. I don’t even know if it’s all true.”

“What are you talking about? Spit it out,” Rumple said, with gritted teeth.

Maurice looked at Rumple, and he nervously began to speak. “I was a young man. I was walking in the woods. I liked to go there to clear my head. I found her there… Colette. She was upset. She was crying. She told me… she told me that she was a fairy. She was a fairy who had lost her wings, and that she was with child. She didn’t know what to do. She needed to hide. Someone was after her. Another fairy or someone... I don’t know. She was afraid. Terrified. I took her in. We married. We agreed the child would be raised as our own. That’s all I know, and I don’t even know if that’s the whole truth.”

Belle braced herself against the counter. Rumple was startled himself. The mention of fairies had shocked him. His own mother was a fairy… the Black Fairy. Even though his heart was racing he reached over to try and steady his wife. They looked up at Maurice.

“You… you never thought to ask more questions?” Belle asked, her voice trembling slightly.

“I was forbidden to speak of it. Your mother… she forbade it.”

#rumbelle #finish this #group purple #boushh2187

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mrsbenedictbridgerton · 6 years

Text

Don’t Buy Me No Flowers -Chapter 3

A chance meeting over a crushed bouquet of roses is enough to convince Killian Jones that Emma Swan is the woman for him.

Florist AU

FF.NET / AO3

Henry Mills knew he was a smart kid. Besides being told just that by pretty much every grown up he knew, he also was a lot more self aware than your average eleven year old. Indeed, he looked at other kids his age whose only concerns were computer games and who made the soft ball team and just knew he was different. That isn’t to say he wasn’t interested in the same things they were - he had a lego collection to rival any elementary schooler. But he had passed the age when he was solely wrapped up in himself and instead his awareness of the world, and those around him, was starting to colour his attitudes and behaviour.

He liked to watch other people - kids and adults -figuring out as best he could what was going on in their heads. What motivated them. In that was he was a thinker, an observer, but also a man of action. After all, how many eleven year olds could have not only located their birth mom but then successfully got to their apartment - in another state- with just a pilfered credit card? He was actually even pretty sure his adoptive mom had been somewhat impressed by that, despite the fact she had yelled at him for a good half hour when he finally returned with Emma in tow.

Currently the one person who had taken up a lot of his thinking time was his mom - his birth mom that is. It had only been a few months since she had made the move to be closer to him. Having her around just felt right, like all the time before he had found her, there had been this nagging feeling that he was missing something and now everything just felt… complete. He knew she was happy too. Sometimes he caught her looking at him, when she didn’t think he noticed, with a contented smile on her face.

But, still, there was something missing. He knew she had had a difficult life, she’d told him enough for him to work that out (he was smart, after all). Yet there was something more, loneliness he decided it was. Even though she had him now, she had been by herself for a long time. She reminded him of his other mom and how she had acted before she had found her fiance, Robin. Prickly and defensive. Since she had started dating the local park warden, she had been so much more relaxed. He knew she would deny it but Robin had somehow completed her.

Henry being a problem solver, decided that if he could do something about his other mom’s singleness that would make her happier. It worked for Regina, it should work for her too? He just had to find a suitable guy and Storybrooke wasn’t exactly full of eligible men of the right age. He’d been looking and so far all his efforts had proven that every guy was either way too old, way too young or way too married.

So it was quite unexpected when the opportunity to do something about his mom’s predicament literally walked into him.

Sat upon the mayoral desk, legs dangling, Henry jabbed at his phone, sighing as he saw the time. His mom had promised to take him to the park after her meeting but it seemed to be taking forever. Shoving his phone into his pocket, he decided to take a walk to the vending machine in the lobby area of the town hall. His mom never kept anything other than fruit in her office and right now, he needed candy. He reached for the handle of the etched glass door, just as it swung open, almost slamming him in the face.

“Hey!” he cried, jumping back as an extravagant arrangement of flowers descended upon him.

“Oh!” The large floral display dipped to one side and a smiling face looked down at him. “Sorry lad, didn’t see you there.”

“Clearly,” Henry replied, folding his arms as he assessed the stranger before him. The stranger matched his look, drawing back on his heels as he registered the strangeness of a elementary school kid hanging out in the mayor’s office.

“And you are?” he asked, arching a brow.

“Henry. Henry Mills.”

“As in Mayor Mills?”

“I’m her son,” Henry quipped. “And you are? Other than a florist.”

“Trainee florist, lad. And it’s Killian Jones.”

Killian shifted the bouquet into one arm so he could reach out his right hand. Henry accepted his handshake, it was warm and firm.

“Hmmm.” He gave the trainee florist a cursory look. “And you’re … British?” he asked, an idea just beginning to form in his mind.

“Quite perceptive for a child, aren’t you?” Killian teased as he walked forward and placed the arrangement upon the austere black desk which dominated the room and set the tone for the monochrome, modernist style that Henry’s adoptive mother loved so much. His back to Henry as he primped and rearrange the blooms, he was unaware of the boy’s critical gaze.

Henry was sure he was about the same age as Emma and he was also pretty sure Killian was what she would think was attractive ( and he had an accent - wasn’t that what girls liked? ).

Finally, Killian turned back to face him, a grin brightening up his face. “Listen, I’ve got to be getting back to the shop…”

Shaken from his thoughts, Henry matched Killian's smile, “Cool - great, I mean.”

Killian gave him an odd look, one eyebrow raising.

“Nice to meet you,” Henry added, interlacing his fingers behind his back and trying to look as innocent as possible.

“Aye,” the man nodded as he edged towards the door. “You too lad.”

As the door shut, Henry sighed happily. He knew just how to put a smile on his mom’s face.

He really had the best ideas!

Whoever had heard of Teachers Day? Mothers Day, yes. Even Grandparents Day was a thing. Emma had even indulged in National Cheeseburger Day, but this one was new.

Her son had texted her the night before insisting that he needed a bouquet of flowers for his homeroom teacher and that she had to help him choose. (Which she took as meaning he didn’t want to spend his allowance on those flowers.)

She’d waited for him at the bus stop as usual, expecting he’d want to pick out one of the little posies that they sold in the grocery store for such occasions, but no.

“Mom, everyone will have the same ones! Miss Blanchard is special and she deserves real flowers!”

She’d learned quite quickly that arguing with Henry was a tricky proposition. The kid had a comeback for everything. And truthfully, she couldn’t disagree with him right now. His teacher was pretty amazing if the enthusiasm Henry had for his studies was any indication.

“Fine,” she’d sighed, letting him take her hand and drag him down Main Street towards… Frozen Blooms.

A sudden tightness in her chest was accompanied by a breathless sensation that she struggled to place for a moment.

Killian.

Oh God, she thought, quickly assessing her crumpled shirt and unbrushed hair. She hadn’t been counting on seeing him, well, ever. She’d given her number to him a week ago and he hadn’t called. So she’d assumed…

Damn.

Here she was, walking into his place of work again, how would that look? Hell, she could only hope he wasn’t working. She could pray he had the day or the afternoon off. She wasn’t great with rejection, even in the ambiguous circumstances of a number given upon a paper napkin after the strangest non-date lunch date. Her mind was full of these thoughts, Henry walking in step beside her… when suddenly, Henry broke into a run, his backpack bouncing round as he raced with unexpected speed towards the store. It took Emma a moment to react, muttering a soft ‘urgh’ before she raced after her son.

By mid afternoon Elsa had already left for the day. She’d been gradually reducing her hours and with only four weeks left until she gave birth Killian was thankful that she was finally taking the time to rest. He also saw it as confirmation that she trusted him with her business, which gave him an unexpected feeling of pride. He was spending the afternoon going through the accounts for the month ahead, getting a feel for the responsibilities he would be taking on while Elsa took her maternity leave.

When the door to the store sprang open, the bell clattering loudly, Killian quickly raised his head. He opened his mouth to speak but the kid in the doorway beat him to it.

“Killian!” the boy smiled, stomping into the store, straight towards the countertop where Killian was reviewing the next day’s bookings.

“Hello… lad,” Killian replied, his surprise barely masked. After a moment’s pause he added, “Henry, isn’t it?”

“”Yeah, Henry,” the boy replied, staring up at the Killian with his arms folded on the countertop. Being not a great deal taller than said countertop, it was a somewhat amusing sight. A few seconds passed where the boy grinned and Killian stared, a little bit lost for words. It wasn’t often that they got pre-teen customers, Frozen Blooms being securely in the mid to high range price category.

Finally, the boy spoke. “My mom’s on her way,” he explained, hitching his thumb at the door behind him.

Killian tipped his head to the side. The mayor didn’t ever visit the store. Her orders were placed by phone. By her assistant.

“Your- um, okay…”

The words had barely left his mouth when the door rang again - this time a little more gently.

And if he’d thought the boy’s appearance had confused him, the woman who now entered had an altogether different effect.

“Emma?” he asked, his brows furrowed.

“Mom!”

Before he had a chance to speak further, the boy was running over to the door and dragging Emma Swan towards him. Emma Swan whom he had not seen for a week and was beginning to think would never see again.

It took a moment for him to collect his thoughts. Then, he addressed the boy.

“Wait. I thought you said that the mayor was your mum.”

With a roll of his eyes, Henry gave Killian a pointed look. “She is. My adoptive mom. Emma is my birth mom.”

For her part, Emma was barely less composed than Killian after her dash along Main Street. If she had thought she was prepared to see Killian, she was wrong. She’d wanted to play this all cool, like she wasn’t affected by him and his handsomeness and his Britishness and his… his Killian-ness . Instead, after only seconds in his presence, she felt flushed and anxious and like this was one huge mistake that her pride was going to take a while to recover from.

Killian met her eyes and she gave him a wary look, a wave of heat rising over her, before she pursed her lips and turned to her son. “Kid, he doesn’t need your life story,” she warned.

Killian cleared his throat. “Actually I think it’s pretty cool. You’re a lucky lad getting two mums.”

Henry shrugged, with the easy innocent nonchalance of a child. “I know. Hey, can I go look at the flowers? Maybe you could talk to my mom while I browse?” His brows raised at that and Killian got the impression that flowers were not the only thing on the boy’s mind that afternoon.

“Go ahead.” Killian gestured to the displays. Henry quickly slipped off his backpack which Emma deftly grabbed before it fell to the floor and then he wandered off among the buckets of blooms.

Emma waited until he was out of earshot. She quickly licked her lips and shifted Henry’s bag onto her shoulder. “Sorry he’s - he can be hard work.”

Killian was looking over her shoulder, watching Henry smell the blooms, lifting them gently to his nose, running the petals between his finger and thumb. “I think he’s delightful. We met yesterday when I was delivering flowers to the town hall. Hence the confusion.”

“Ahh,” she sighed, relaxing her hip against the counter as Killian fixed his full attention back towards her. “I see.”

So her son had met Killian and suddenly developed an urgent desire to purchase flowers. Go figure. She’d never really thought of Henry as a matchmaker, but he always had a scheme or ‘operation’ as he liked to call them in the works. It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that he was trying to fix her up. After all his adoptive mother was happily in a relationship with a step child to boot. Kids always seemed to see things simply. Maybe he thought that the secret to making her settled in Storybrooke was to match her up with some guy.

And he had chosen this guy. Go figure.

For a minute or so, the pair watched the boy, fully engrossed in his interrogation of the flowers. The silence was not uncomfortable. Emma shoved her hands in her back pockets and began to imagine this interaction might be over as painlessly and easily as a swift purchase could make it.

But then she hear the silky burr of his voice, just low enough for her to hear him.

“I’m actually really glad you came in.”

She slowly pivoted on her heel, lifting her chin and feigning nonchalance. His cheeks were tellingly reddened and she relaxed, just a little. She was pleased to see he was at least a little flustered by the situation.

“Oh?’ she asked.

He smiled softly. “I’m embarrassed to say that your telephone number met with a wet end in the washing machine.”

“Huh?”

“I put it in my pocket - for safekeeping -” He blushed even deeper, crimson red and, god damn, she liked him.

It was now or never. Brush it off. Laugh. Play the fool. Or- seize the moment. Give him another chance.

Her heart really couldn’t take being hurt, but still…

“Give me your phone,” she ordered, stretching her hand across the counter.

He raised a brow but complied, pulling his mobile phone from his back pocket and slipping it into her hand, their fingers brushing with a tingle of electricity. Biting her lip, she typed in her number.

“No excuses this time.”

She handed him the phone back as Henry rushed up with a handful of pink blooms. Perfect timing to avoid an awkward moment.

“Mom I want these.”

Killian’s attention, which had been transfixed upon Emma, immediately switched to the boy. He placed a warm expression upon his face and took the flowers from his hand.

“Peonies. Good choice lad. Shall I wrap them for you?”

Henry nodded. “And pink ribbon too. Miss Blanchard loves pink.”

Emma ruffled her son’s hair as Killian turned away to the workspace behind him. Henry wore a happy smile on his face and he folded his arms as he watched Killian curl the ribbon.

“What?” Emma asked, now in almost no doubt of her son’s intentions.

“Nothing,” he grinned sweetly in reply.

Yeah right, Emma thought. But strangely for her, she left it at that.

It was almost ten by the time Emma got to the dishes she had Henry had created. He’d decided today he wanted to cook rather than go to Granny’s, so they’d spent the afternoon making tacos and then settled in to watch a movie before she had to take him home.

She was already looking for a place with a second bedroom so he could stay more. The times he did sleep over, she used the couch pullout but she knew he was getting older and needed his own room.

The last suds were draining away when her phone chirped. She wiped her hands and picked it up.

-Hey. It’s Killian.

Her heart rate picked up a little. A flutter in her chest that she quickly metered. She moistened her lips and walked to the couch, tucking her legs under herself as she composed her reply.

-Hey Lieutenant. I see you did not lose my number this time.

She smiled as she tapped send.

-Once is a mistake. Twice would have just been careless.

Emma felt the dimples press into her cheeks as she read his reply.

-That’s very true

There was a minute or so’s pause, where the little dots indicating he was typing teased her.

-How’s Henry?

-Back at his other mom’s. He only stays with me on weekends. Better for school.

-That makes sense.

She was mentally deciding what to say in reply when he texted again.

-Are you busy then?

Her heart rate skipped up once more. A rose flutter in her chest. She bit her lip, tentative fingers composing a reply.

-Not really

Barely a few seconds later-

-How about a coffee at Granny’s? Much easier to chat in person, no?

Despite all her reservations, it was easy to make the decision.

-Give me ten minutes.

Killian played with his napkin as he waited. He’d been in his car heading to the diner mere moments after her reply. In fact, he had been itching to see her again since that afternoon. As soon as she had left the store he’d found himself unable to think of much else. Emma Swan. Emma Swan…

Had he ever been so taken by someone? Certainly not for a very long time.

Preoccupied, it was with surprise that he noticed Emma had arrived and was sliding into the booth across from him. She gave him a tentative smile as she shrugged out of her jacket. “So do you often frequent the diner late at night? Or are you making a special exception for me?”

There was teasing in her words, so the option was there to make light of her comment with his reply. But instead he found honesty falling from his lips. “Sometimes. I live with my brother and sister in law. Occasionally I just need some space, as wonderful as they are.”

For a moment, she studied him, as if soaking in the full meaning of his words. “That makes sense,” she finally said before quickly giving her order to the cheerful waitress who had stopped by the booth. “I actually grew up in foster care and had to share a room far more often than I ever had my own.”

“That must have been difficult,” he replied sincerely.

She shrugged as the waitress brought over a cup of strong black coffee. “I always appreciate privacy now for sure. But you know, whatever your reality is, especially as a kid, you deal with it. It was my normal.”

She focused on stirring in her creamer and sugar as she digested what she had just said. It wasn’t often that she talked about her childhood. Especially to someone she barely knew. The effect he had of making her feel comfortable sharing such things was a little unnerving. She shook off that thought and took a sip.

There was a moment of silence, companionable not awkward. Killian didn’t feel the need to say anything as she relaxed against the red leather of the booth, her hands clutched possessively around her mug. He appreciated the piece of herself she had just revealed to him. He had been right, she was an enigma whose layers he was eager to start peeling away.

That thought startled him back into the moment and a question he had had since that afternoon.

“Henry… you and the Mayor. How does that work?”

Emma smiled at the mention of her son’s name. “It’s complicated. I won’t lie. I was young when he was born.”

“His father?”

She shook her head. “He wasn’t on the scene. I decided that he would be better off being adopted into a family who knew how to raise a kid. I didn’t think I could be a mom.”

A frown line formed between her brows. He resisted the urge to reach out and smooth it away with his thumb.

He sighed softly instead. “You wanted to give him his best chance.”

She stared at him. That was it. Exactly it. Something in her heart softened, a part of her that she hadn’t realized she had let harden. No one had ever understood so easily.

“So, you tracked him down?”

She laughed softly. “Other way ‘round. He found me. And then I knew I couldn’t let him go again.”

Killian let out a soft breath. He was transfixed by the warm look that came over her face as she talked about the boy.

“That’s an amazing tale.”

Emma nodded. “Yeah. He’s a pretty amazing kid.”

The waitress came by and topped off their drinks. They both smiled in thanks.

“So, how are you ?” he asked, raising a sympathetic brow, hoping she understood his meaning. He didn’t want to mention the name of that fool again.

Looking up, Emma met his eyes. “I’m fine. The anger has faded and now I’m just concentrating on avoiding him until he gets the message. At least he never met Henry.”

“Oh?”

She gave him a pointed look, “I may be new to this parenting thing but I know I don’t want him to meet anyone I’m involved with until I know it’s going somewhere.”

“That sounds reasonable.”

Running her hand over an invisible mark on the table, she mused for a moment on just how easy this was. Talking like that had known each other forever. She decided to delve deeper.

“What about you - any kids?”

He shook his head. “No. Came close once, but that was a long time ago. She was older. Still married, if I’m honest. We were at different places in our lives.”

Without judgement, she nodded. She got it. “It is all about timing. I wasn’t ready when Henry was born, but now I feel it. I mean, ready to take on the challenge. I’m just lucky he gave me the chance.”

“And he is lucky to have you.”

She detected no falsity in his words. No underlying deception or motive. Her protective walls flickered about her. She was always wary of new people. Especially men. But he seemed, well, good. She’d learned to be pretty good at reading people over the years and she wasn’t picking up any hidden agenda. She was so used to men disappointing her that she wasn’t quite sure how to respond.

In addition, she was cautious to the fact she had just left one less than successful romantic entanglement. She decided it would be best to steer the conversation into more neutral and friend-like territory.

They shared tales of their moves to Storybrooke- although he avoided explaining in detail why he had left the navy, she knew that was a story left better for another day. She told him a little more about her job and how she spent quite a lot of time on the road, but was reducing that now that Henry was back in her life. Quickly almost an hour slipped by.

Reluctantly she drained her cup and looked at her watch. “I’d better go, I need to be on the road to Portland by eight.”

She started to stand and he followed, both pulling on their coats.

“I’ll see you out.”

“My car’s around back,” she explained, and he nodded, leaving some bills on the table for their coffee and waving a hand to the waitress to say they were leaving. They walked in silence to the back door of the diner.

Although it was almost June, there was still a nip to the air. As they stepped into the alleyway, the chill wrapped around them and seemed to seep beneath the leather of her jacket. She paused as the door closed behind them and shivered involuntarily.

Killian stopped behind her, running his hands over her arms, the instant warmth deeply pleasant and accompanied by an altogether more exciting feeling, overcoming the initial start his touch had evoked.

“Thank you,” she whispered, turning back her head to meet his eyes, still startlingly blue even in the moonlight.

She let herself drink in the moment. The warmth of his hands on her, the feeling of his body behind. There was a buzz in the air. The only sounds were the distant echo of Granny’s jukebox and the chirp of the crickets who had begun to wake from their hibernation.

“Emma-“ he began, her name catching on his lips, his voice silky and stroking a flame of something hot up her spine.

Her breath hitched. She saw his eyes flicker to her lips. They were alone. It was dark.

Private.

She should be cautious, her mind was telling her to walk away, take things slow. But her heart and her gut were louder. They told her that this was right, that this was a moment and a connection she needed to pursue.

Her instincts took over, her hand reached up to the nape of his neck, drawing his mouth to hers as she twisted to face him.

Killian was momentarily struck dumb. The sensation of her lips against his, her hands clutching him close caught his breath as they headed unexpectedly into a rapidly dizzying kiss.

They fit perfectly . His head dipped just enough to meet hers, his hands moved from her arms and sunk into the curve of her waist, drawing her close until his thigh slid between her legs.

Her lips were warm and soft, they parted eagerly, deepening the kiss, pulling them both further into the moment, the world around them fading to empty blackness. She was all gentle curves and the scent of sweet soap and leather.

She pressed herself closer to him. Her breasts crushed against his chest and she cursed the twin layers of leather she wore. Her hands clutched the nape of his neck more tightly, one slipping into his hair, drawing languidly through the silky strands until he groaned softly, the sound sending a tightening to her gut. He wanted this as much as she did.

The chill was all forgotten. She was now burning. Her skin, her blood, her very essence. His kiss, his touch, had ignited something she had long locked away. A recklessness and a desire she had told herself was lost to her. But here it was, rising to the fore as his wicked lips tore her away from reality and made her believe in the possibility of something more. She rocked against his leg thigh between hers. It wasn’t enough to ease the ache inside of her. Desperate, she ran an eager hand over the strong line of his jaw, cupping his face, pouring all she couldn’t say with words into the embrace.

Tightening his hands about her waist, he felt the surge of desire and want that their kiss brought with it. The need for more. He tried to temper this- it was not the time, nor the place. He already knew that Emma was special. If he rushed, if he didn’t take care, he would send her skittering away. Life had not been kind. He could relate to that. All these thoughts jumbled and tossed through his brain as he fought the urges of lust and needing- feelings he felt emanating in waves from her as she rocked her body against him and scored his burning skin with her eager fingers.

She ached for more, feeling wanton and desired. She was dizzy with unexpected need for him. It left her breathless, the tension creeping up her spine, a building sensation, like the twisting of a screw-

It wasn’t often he lost control. He was no innocent with women, even if he shied away from relationships. He knew how to seduce; how to tease and tempt. But she was the temptress here. Building the moment in a swirling, whirling blur-

Finally, she gasped, pulling back, sucking in a cooling breath as his mouth fell to her neck, his own shuddering breaths a pairing to her own.

His hands slowly loosened about her waist. She slid hers to his shoulders where they remained limply for a moment.

“I should- I should go,” she finally said, her voice husky and low. She didn’t want to go. She wanted to pull him back into the kiss. To drag him to her apartment. To take this to its inevitable conclusion. Yet something stopped her. An understanding that he seemed to share that now was not the time.

Slowly, he lifted his gaze to her. Nodding a grizzled, “Aye,” in reply.

He looked wrecked. His hair mussed, lips swollen, desire in his gaze.

Not now, was the unspoken understanding. But soon.

With a smile, she made to move away, but he caught her hand, quickly pulling it to his lips. “Goodnight Swan.”

A heartbeat passed.

“Goodnight Lieutenant.”

Then before she could give into the urge to pull his mouth to hers again, she slipped away.

A/N

Apologies for the little posting gap, work and life slammed me hard! Two more chapters to go :D

Thank you for reading. J

#captain swan #cs ff #cs mc ff #cs au #cs florist au #jill writes things #don't buy me no flowers

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yorksunited · 4 years

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jace robin locksley-mills bio

BASIC

NAME: jace robin locksley-mills NICKNAMES: green bean, bean KNOWN ALIASES: none AGE: 21 BIRTHDAY: october 31 SPECIES: human GENDER: male PRONOUNS: he/him ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: biromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual RELATIONSHIP STATUS: married

FAMILY

MOTHER: zelena mills FATHER: robin of locksley (deceased) GRANDPARENTS: cora mills (maternal grandmother, deceased) OTHER RELATIONSHIPS: regina mills (aunt) SIBLINGS: roland locksley (older brother) SIGNIFICANT OTHER: gwendolyn pan CHILDREN: millicent pan (daughter), james pan (son- twin), robin pan (son- twin), eloise pan (daughter)

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES

FACE CLAIM: austin butler (main), chris evans (older), kj apa (alt) HEIGHT: 6’4” WEIGHT: 235lbs BUILD: fit HAIR LENGTH: short HAIR COLOUR: blonde EYE COLOUR: blue SKIN COLOUR: fair DOMINANT HAND: right NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS: bright smile SCENT: pine ACCENT: american boston ALLERGIES: shellfish DISORDERS: major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety disorder FASHION: think portland, oregon. flannel, beanie, combat boots

LIFESTYLE

RESIDES: storybrooke, maine (mainly); boston, massachusetts BORN: storybrooke, maine RAISED: storybrooke, maine VEHICLE: 2010 ford escape PHONE: iphone 8 LAPTOP/COMPUTER: macbook PETS: HIGH SCHOOL EDUCATION: storybrooke high COLLEGE EDUCATION: NYU MAJOR: elementary education MINOR: n/a CAREER: kindergarten teacher EXPERIENCE: 2 years EMPLOYER: new york school districts POLITICAL AFFILIATION: democrat RELIGION: none MISDEMEANOURS: none FELONIES: none TICKETS AND/OR VIOLATIONS: none DRUGS: anti-depressant/anti-anxiety SMOKES: no ALCOHOL: no DIET: no specific diet LANGUAGES: english, french PHOBIAS: people she loves dying SOCIAL MEDIA: instagram and twitter

FAVOURITE

LOCATION: oregon MUSIC: pop SHOWS: anything that makes him laugh MOVIES: superhero and horror FOOD: anything sweet BEVERAGE: pomegranate juice COLOUR: green

CHARACTER

MORAL ALIGNMENT: chaotic good WESTERN ZODIAC: scorpio

#chris evans teaching kindergarteners makes me laugh #GREEN BEAN (jace)

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effie-trinket · 7 years

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Swan Queen Week Day 7: Creator’s Choice (Teacher AU)

Title: Of Microwaves and Dodgeballs Pairing: Swan Queen Rating: T Summary:

Emma’s goals for her new teaching position: -make friends: check -teach kids about physical education: check -make a difference in at least one kid’s life: check -run into an angry woman’s car and have her hate you but then fall for her anyway: check?

FF/AO3

Emma hummed along to the song on the radio as she drove down the pothole-filled road. It was her first day of teaching at Storybrooke High. While she was excited to finally be out of the elementary school from hell in Massachusetts, she was also nervous about adjusting to the small town life in Maine.

She saw the sign for the school up ahead and flicked on her turn signal. Just because she lived in Massachusetts for a year did not mean she adopted their horrendous driving skills (or lack thereof).

The road cleared and she turned into the driveway of the school, quickly locating the teacher parking lot. She found an open spot and pulled in, but noticed she was a little close to the white line on her side. She switched gears and slowly backed out, not seeing the black car trying to pass by until it was too late.

There was a slight crunch and a horn blasted, jolting Emma and causing her to slam on the brakes. She heard a car door slam and tentatively opened her own door.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Emma was startled by the abrasiveness of the voice, but put on a defensive face anyway. She grew up learning that if you didn’t fight back you’d get taken advantage of. “Trying to correct my parking job,” she said as she turned and faced her accuser.

A woman with shoulder-length brown hair stood by the tail end of Emma’s car, a furious expression on her face. A vein in her forehead was twitching but all Emma could focus on was the scar on her lip.

“Did they not teach you how to look before you back up in Massachusetts?” she asked, gesturing to the license plate that Emma still had yet to change. “Flatlander,” she muttered.

Emma took two strides towards her, getting within a foot of the woman. She looked down and noticed that her bug had a minuscule dent on the bumper, and her car— her Mercedes— didn’t even have a scratch.

“Look, your car isn’t even damaged, lady,” Emma pointed out.

“Rightfully so,” the woman replied, offset as she realized Emma was right. “Watch where you’re going next time.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Emma muttered sarcastically. The woman quickly got back into her car and drove off.

Emma took a moment to herself before hopping back in the bug and resuming her task of correcting her parking, making sure to check her back bumper again before walking into the school.

——

“If you continue down that hallway you’ll find the math classrooms, and then over that way are all of the science classrooms…”

Emma’s eyes followed where Principal Kathryn Nolan was pointing, taking in the size of the school. It was a lot smaller than the three she had attended.

Kathryn led them down a small staircase before opening a set of double doors. “And here’s your classroom!” She led them through the gymnasium and toward’s a side room that had a glass window between it and the gym. “That room there is Mr. Hood’s office, and yours…” She pointed down the wall towards the other set of double doors. “…is over there. Any questions?”

Emma shook her head. “I think I got it. Anything I need specifically related to P.E. can be answered by Mr. Hood, right?”

“Definitely,” Kathryn answered. “I am, unfortunately, a little rusty on my P.E. knowledge.” She smiled comfortingly. “I’ll leave you to him, then! Enjoy your first day here, Miss Swan.”

“Thanks,” Emma said, watching the blonde walk away for a moment before heading over to the athletic director’s office.

The door was already open so she wrapped her knuckles on the door frame to alert the man at the desk to her presence.

“Hello! You must be Emma Swan,” he said with a smile, standing up and offering his hand.

Emma shook it and smiled back. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Robin looked down at his desk, searching it with his eyes for a moment before locating a folder. “This is all the information you’ll need for the first few weeks here. You should be settled in by then. It’s not too difficult of a place.”

“Thanks,” Emma said as she took the folder, heading back to her office to prepare for the first class of the day.

——

“Everything going smoothly?” Robin asked as her fifth period class exited.

Emma smiled. “Yeah, so far so good.” And she meant it. He’d been right when he said it wasn’t a very difficult place.

At that moment a man walked into the room wearing a police uniform with a taser and walkie talkie strapped to his belt. He bellowed out from across the gym.

“Robin! Lu—Oh, sorry, am I interrupting?” the man said, walking up to them.

“You’re fine, Graham,” Robin said. He gestured to Emma. “Graham, this is Emma Swan, the new P.E. instructor. Miss Swan, this is Graham Humbert, our behavioral resource officer.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Graham said. He turned to Robin. “Lunch?”

Robin shook his head. “Not today. I have to supervise a detention for an athlete.”

Graham frowned. “Damn.” He turned to Emma. “Lunch?”

Emma opened her mouth with surprise. “Uh— yeah, sure.” She turned to Robin. “I’ll be back for sixth period, then.”

“Don’t listen to everything he says,” Robin warned with a teasing grin sent towards Graham.

“I’ll try not to.”

——

“First thing’s first, rookie--” Graham said as they sat down.

Emma glared. “Don’t call me that.”

Graham gave a short laugh. He then pointed at her sandwich. “PB&J, I’m guessing?” Emma nodded. “You’re going to get real sick of those real fast. After a month of PB&Js, you’re never going to want to look at a jar of peanut butter ever again, so quit while you’re ahead.”

“But this is all I know how to make…” Emma muttered, looking at her lunch disdainfully.

“Take cooking classes, then. Or switch up sandwich types every day. You could have ham and cheese, salami and cheese, fluffernutter, bacon and eggs… the possibilities are endless— well, nearly endless.” He took out his own meal of leftover pasta and started digging in. “Second thing— if you’re going to work here, you’re going to need to know the ins and outs for both students and staff. The ‘do’s and the ‘don’t’s. ”

“Well I already crossed the ‘don’t’ line with one lady today,” Emma grumbled.

Graham gave her a look. “Already?” He laughed. “As long as it wasn’t Regina Mills’ bad side you got on, you’ll be fine. Everyone else is pretty good with the concept of forgive and forget. Regina, though… she holds grudges.” He cleared his throat and pointed at a short, bearded man sitting by himself at the corner table, glaring around the room. “See that man over there?”

“Yeah…”

“That’s Leroy. He’s the janitor. Bit of a grumpy man, but he’ll also stick up for you in times of trouble, especially if you stay on his good side.”

Emma watched as another teacher nearly fled after getting stared down by the grumpy janitor. “How do you even get on his good side?”

“Alcohol,” Graham stated bluntly. “A group of us go out to drinks every other Friday. You should join us some time.”

“I’ll consider it,” Emma said. It would be good for her to make some friends here.

“See that girl over there by the window reading?” Graham asked, pointing to a woman a few feet from Leroy’s spot. “That’s Belle. She’s the librarian. Quiet lass, she is. She has a twin, Lacey, who works at the bar we go to on Fridays. Lacey is nothing like her sister, though. She’s all fiery temper and she has a great ass and is… sexy as hell.”

Emma snorted. “Typical male,” she muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Graham asked.

Emma shrugged. “I’m just saying— males are always focused on the sexual, physical aspects of females. It’s never about their interests and hobbies, or favorite color, or anything like that. It’s always about pretty faces and big tits and asses.”

Graham looked almost offended. “Hey, not all men—”

“Cut it there, Officer,” Emma warned. “It’s that kind of attitude that would make sure you never get into bed with a girl like Lacey.”

“That’s not the only thing keeping me from her bed,” Graham muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward into an almost smirk. Emma gave him a look. “There’s actually a good story behind how we all found out about it. I’ll have to tell you sometime.”

Emma furrowed her eyebrows. “Graham—”

“She’s gay,” Graham interrupted.

It was Emma’s turn to smirk now. “Well one of us has a chance, then.”

Graham turned to her with a puzzled expression. “Are you…?”

Emma nodded. “Yep. Gay as a flaming unicorn on a rainbow.” She smirked again. “There’s a funny story behind how I realized that. I’ll have to tell you sometime,” she said, echoing his earlier words.

“Funny story behind what?” a new voice asked as two lunch bags were set down on the table across from Emma and Graham.

Emma looked up at the new visitors. The woman who had spoken had long, straight brown hair with a red streak in it. Emma was jealous of how well the woman pulled off the bright red lipstick she was wearing to match the hair. Next to her was a petite brunette with a pixie cut.

“Ruby,” the woman with the red streak said, flashing a bright smile and sticking her hand out. “Ruby Lucas,” she finished as Emma shook her hand. Ruby jutted a finger at the petite brunette next to her. “I’m her student teacher.”

“Mary Margaret Blanchard,” the other woman greeted. “I teach the home economics classes. You must be the new P.E. teacher!”

“Emma Swan,” Emma replied with a nod. “It’s good to meet you guys.”

“Same,” Ruby replied with a genuine smile. “So, what’s the funny story you were just talking about?” she asked as she took out her lunch.

Emma shrugged nonchalantly as she took another bite of her sandwich. “The story of me coming out.”

Ruby’s grin widened. “Ooh, do tell.”

Just as Emma opened up her mouth to talk, the door to the faculty lounge opened and silence descended on the room. Emma’s eyes widened as green eyes met brown: It was the woman whose car she hit. She gave Emma a stone cold glare before turning and walking towards the microwave.

Conversations started up once more. Ruby leaned forward. “I heard some sucker hit her car this morning in the parking lot,” she said in a fashion that reminded Emma a little too much of high school gossip. “I feel bad for whoever did it.”

Graham noticed Emma’s sheepish face. “Your incident this morning didn’t involve her, did it?”

Emma nodded somewhat shyly. “It may have been me…” Three pairs of eyes widened at the table. “But it was an accident! Besides, my car was the only one hurt!” She looked over at the brunette whose back was still turned away. “Who is she, anyway?”

Graham looked over and smiled. “That’s Regina Mills.”

“You mean… the woman you said holds grudges?”

Graham gave a short laugh. “Oh yeah. She teaches the business classes and AP Statistics. She’s feared by teachers and students alike,” he said with a laugh.

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Except you, I take it?”

“Yep,” Graham affirmed with a cocky grin.

“Graham’s never really been afraid of Regina,” Ruby said with a sly smile. “But then again, it’s hard to be afraid of someone after you sleep with them a few dozen times.”

Emma narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you two… together?”

Graham blushed slightly and shook his head. “No.” He took a bite of his food and swallowed. “Not anymore, at least. We had a little… fling… when I first started working here a couple of years ago. It ended midway through the last school year.”

“Why’d you end it?”

“She realized she—” He stopped abruptly. “I’m not actually sure I’m allowed to share that…”

“What?” Emma asked curiously.

“No, I can’t.”

“Who am I going to tell? I’m the new girl. You guys are the only ones I really know!” Emma insisted. Graham shook his head.

Now Ruby and Mary Margaret were curious, too. “You can’t just start saying something and then take it back!” Ruby exclaimed.

Graham gave her a look. “I shouldn’t have even started telling you guys. Just… let it go.”

“Does she have an STD?” Emma guessed.

Graham choked on his drink. “What? No!”

“Is she dying?” Mary Margaret asked quietly, her eyes big with worry.

“No! Guys—”

“Is she secretly married?”

“Ruby, I swear to—” Graham stopped and rubbed his face with his hand. “It’s not bad, I promise. But it’s not my place to tell. If she wants you to know, she’ll tell you. Okay?”

“Fine,” Ruby grumbled. She poked at her meatloaf, which looked less than edible. “I’m going to see if Granny will make me something good to eat,” she announced, standing up and packing up her stuff. “I’ll see you back in the room next period,” she told Mary Margaret. “It was nice to meet you, Emma!” she flashed a dazzling smile at the blonde. “Bye!”

“Bye,” the other three echoed as the tall brunette walked out the door.

“Who’s Granny?” Emma asked.

“The head cook,” Mary Margaret said, “and, coincidentally, Ruby’s grandmother. Everyone calls her Granny, though. She makes really good lasagna on Fridays. You should try it some time.” She looked at the clock started packing up her stuff. “I almost forgot— I have to go and meet with a student before lunch ends. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, sure,” Emma said, waving to her as she left. She turned to Graham. “They seem friendly enough.”

“They’re a couple of good people,” Graham agreed. “Ruby gets a little carried away with gossip sometimes and Mary Margaret thinks she’s a saint and can’t keep a secret to save a life, but overall they’re good.”

They ate the rest of their lunch in silence. It was when they were headed out the door that the silence was disrupted.

“Officer Humbert!” a student called out as she burst through the door. “There’s a fight in B hallway—”

Graham nodded. “On it,” he said, jogging towards the hallway. Emma noticed the rest of the teachers seemed to be following him, so she went along as well.

When she got there, Graham had already pried one boy away and was holding him away from whomever he was attacking. Emma noticed the boy was rather small for a high schooler.

Kathryn pushed through the crowd and sighed at the sight of the small boy. “I thought we went over this—”

“Henry?” a new voice interjected. Emma saw Regina step up beside Kathryn and move towards the small boy. She touched his face in a manner that seemed a little too familiar for a teacher.

The small boy, Henry, pushed her hands away. “Get off me!” He backed away from her with a glare that could rival Leroy’s, but not quite rival Regina’s. Emma noticed a hurt look flash across Regina’s face.

Meanwhile, Kathryn had helped the other boy stand. Emma noticed he had a bloodied lip and his eye was bruising.

Kathryn gestured with my hand. “To my office, boys.”

Graham went with Kathryn and the boys, keeping himself near Henry. The bell rang and the rest of the crowd dispersed, with some students grumbling about how the fight ended too quickly and others recounting the event with excitement. The hallway had cleared except for Emma and Regina, who still had a hurt look on her face.

Emma slowly walked up to her. “Hey, you okay? Do you… want to talk?” she offered, unsure of what to say to the woman who clearly was upset but also clearly disliked (or maybe even hated) Emma.

Regina looked up and, for a brief moment, Emma saw anguish in her eyes, but the look was soon replaced with Regina’s usual hard glare. “You should go supervise your class, Miss Swan,” she said, pushing past Emma and leaving her alone in the hallway.

——

“You are free to go see Mr. Whale, Nicholas,” Kathryn said. The boy nodded and held a hand tentatively to his tender, still bleeding lip as he left her office. Kathryn turned her attention to the other boy seated across from her. “Henry… it’s the first day of school. Last year you promised--”

The boy let his guard down and heaved a big sigh. “I know I promised I wouldn’t fight. But… I couldn’t help it. Nicholas—”

“It doesn’t matter what Nicholas did, lad,” Graham interrupted. “You shouldn’t have resorted to fighting like you did. Your mother—”

“I don’t care about my mother,” Henry snarled.

“Don’t say that, Henry,” Kathryn chastised. She hated hearing him talk about her best friend like that. “She loves you—”

“No she doesn’t!” Henry interjected. “She doesn’t care about anything! Have you ever even seen her love something? It’s not possible!”

“Yes it is, Henry,” Kathryn said softly. “I’ve known your mother for a long time. She loved your father very much. And she has loved you since before you were even born, and she will continue to love you for as long as she lives.”

Henry shifted in his seat. “No she won’t. I’m only a disappointment to her. She said it herself,” he muttered.

“She didn’t say you were a disappointment. She said she was disappointed in your actions,” Graham said, “and you know it was because you got into another fight right after the incident with August.”

Henry become somber at the mention of the other boy. “It was an accident…”

“It doesn’t matter, Henry. You can’t keep doing this,” Kathryn said softly. She went over to a file cabinet and pulled out a rather thick manila folder and placed it on her desk. She flipped through until she found the page she was looking for and gave a soft sigh. “This is your fifth fight in the past year, Henry. I don’t know how to convince you to stop. I’ve given you detentions, in school suspensions, out of school suspensions… the next step is expulsion, Henry. I technically should’ve already expelled you, but I didn’t because I know you’re a good student. I know you can do better.” She sighed again. “I’ll let you off with a two week suspension Henry. But I will warn you— if I see you in my office again for another fight, I will have no choice but to expel you.”

“Yes, Principal Midas,” Henry said softly.

“I also want you to stop by Hopper’s office twice a week and talk to him. Maybe he can help you sort through… everything.” She exchanged a look with Henry and he understood what she meant.

“Okay,” he replied in the same soft voice.

“Okay,” she replied with a small smile. “You can go to your afternoon classes, but I want you back in my office at 3:00 when the bell rings. I’ll need to talk with you and your mother.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill,” he huffed as he stood up and walked out.

As soon as the door shut, Graham released a deep breath. “Regina’s going to be furious.”

“She has a right to be,” Kathryn said, running a hand through her hair. “God this is all just so…”

“Fucked up?” Graham offered with a short laugh. “It definitely is. At least Nicholas is okay. Henry might be in worse shape than he is— emotionally, that is.”

“And Regina’s not going to be much better at this point,” Kathryn said sadly.

“Do you want me here after school for the lad and Regina?”

Kathryn nodded. “It might be for the best.” She swiveled in her chair, facing him directly. Her phone started to ring, and Graham took that as his sign to leave. “I’ll see you at three.”

——

The last school bell of the day rang and Emma put all of the equipment back into the storage locker. She had just tucked in the last basketball when she realized it was 3:28 and she had a follow up meeting with the principal at 3:30.

She rushed through the halls to the office. As she rounded the corner to the entrance to the front office section, she saw the boy from earlier— Henry— rushing out of the room and slamming the front doors open, stomping through as he left the building.

Emma continued into the front office, noting that the principal’s office door was open, and Regina was sitting in a chair in front of Kathryn’s desk, slumped over with her head in her hands. Graham was standing by and had a hand on her shoulder. He glanced over and noticed Emma, his eyes widening as he quickly murmured something to the other two women in the room. Regina sat up rigidly before standing and smoothing down her dress. Kathryn stood and placed a hand comfortingly on Regina’s arm as she said something. Regina nodded stiffly before running her hands down her dress and turning quickly on her heel.

“Hey,” Emma said weakly as Regina passed.

“Miss Swan,” she greeted stoically without looking at her as she passed by. Emma noted the puffy eyes and red cheeks, but said nothing, instead turning back towards Kathryn’s office.

Graham gave her a kind nod and an uncomfortable smile as she walked in. “Emma.” He looked back at Kathryn, who was still standing by the chair Regina had just vacated. “Tomorrow, then?”

Kathryn nodded, and Graham exited, closing the door behind him. “Please, have a seat,” Kathryn said, gesturing towards the chair.

Emma did so, shifting uncomfortably as Kathryn stood there for a moment longer, releasing a deep breath before walking behind her desk and taking a seat.

“So,” Kathryn said as she settled back down. “How was your first day?”

——

It had been a month since her first day and Emma was loving her new job. The kids were great, her coworkers were fun— well, most of her coworkers were fun. Regina still wouldn’t spare her even a passing glance.

Emma didn’t mind, though. She was happy to have friends to sit with at lunch, to go out to the bar with on Friday nights, and to… listen to them complain about their love life.

“I’m telling you, I did everything right,” Graham said. “I held the door open for her, I bought her flowers, I paid for the meal, I walked her to her door— we kissed! Why won’t she text me back?” He plopped his head onto his hand, moping as he moved his food around with his fork with his other hand.

Emma scoffed at him. “Get a grip, Graham,” she said as she unwrapped her sandwich—a BLT— and picked up one half. “You sound like a teenage girl.”

“Did I wait too long to text her?” Graham asked, continuing as if she hadn’t said anything. “Three days is the right amount of time… right?”

“Dude, that rule is the dumbest thing ever,” Emma said with her mouth half full. “Text her when you want. Don’t wait because your dude bros told you to. It makes it seem like you care less if you wait that long.”

Graham looked up at her. “It does?” He slumped back in his seat. “Shoot. I guess it is my fault.”

Emma shook her head. “I swear, Graham… How in the hell did you manage to work out a relationship with Regina if you can’t even text a girl in a timely fashion?”

Graham laughed at that. “You know that’s a pretty good question.”

“No wonder she dumped you,” Emma joked.

“Okay, no, she didn’t dump me because of me,” Graham said. “She had her reasons, and while I was technically one of them, I also wasn’t.”

Emma’s forehead creased and she shook her head. “What does that even mean?!”

Before Graham could answer the door to the faculty lounge swung open and the woman in question appeared, marching over regally to the microwave. She stopped as she noticed the sign on it saying that it was broken. Regina huffed and looked down at her tupperware container.

“Shit,” Graham murmured. “She doesn’t like it when her schedule is disrupted.” At Emma’s look he added, “She always uses that microwave for her food. Her lasagna’s not as good when it’s cold.”

“I have a microwave in my office that works,” Emma said. She glanced back at the brunette. “Should I go offer it?”

Graham shrugged. “It might actually get you on her neutral side.”

Emma sat back in her chair. “Or maybe I’ll let her suffer like she’s let me suffer.”

Graham rolled his eyes. “Now who’s acting like a teenager?” He glanced behind Emma and gave a wave. “Regina!” He gestured towards them.

“Yes, Officer?” she asked, pointedly not looking at Emma.

“Couldn’t help but notice the microwave is having issues,” Graham said.

“Your point being?”

Graham looked at Emma, raising an eyebrow at her. She glared back at him. He gave her a look and she sighed, looking up at Regina.

“I have a microwave in my office,” Emma said stiffly. “You can use it if you’d like.”

Regina seemed surprised by the offer. “Thank you, Miss Swan.”

“Door’s unlocked,” Emma said.

“You keep your office door unlocked when you’re not there?”

Aaaand there it was. “Yeah? What are they going to steal? My instruction booklets on thigh stretches?”

Graham snickered at that, and Emma noticed that Regina’s face turned a little pink.

“Right,” Regina said quietly. She turned and walked out of the lounge without another word.

When Emma got back to her office after lunch, she noticed a little sticky note attached to the microwave.

Thank you again, Miss Swan. And don’t worry— I didn’t steal any ‘thigh stretch’ booklets from you. At least not today.

——

Another two weeks had passed since the microwave incident. The incident that had sparked Emma’s imagination into wondering what the hell Regina meant by her note.

She was so distracted in her thoughts she didn’t hear the shouts or see the dodgeball coming towards her until it was too late. The ball slammed into the side of her face, knocking her slightly off balance.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Swan!”

Emma rubbed her face and looked over to the apologizer. It was Henry Mills, looking absolutely terrified as he looked at what she could imagine was a very nasty looking welt on the side of her face.

“Great job, dumbass!” another boy in the class said with a smirk. Emma noticed how Henry cringed at the sound of his voice.

“Can it, Peter,” Emma responded. The bell rang at that moment. “Alright, guys, get going. I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse,” she said with a smile. The class started to disperse. “Henry, can I talk to you for a moment?”

Henry nodded, standing by quietly and ignoring the taunts from Peter as he grabbed his stuff and left. “I’m really sorry, Miss Swan,” he said quietly.

“Trust me, Henry, I’m not worried about this,” Emma said, gesturing to her face. “Come with me to my office.” She led him in there, where she grabbed an ice pack from the freezer before plopping down at her chair. “Take a seat, kid.”

He dutifully sat down, his leg jiggling nervously as he stared down at his hands in his lap.

“Are you… having problems, kid?” Emma asked tentatively.

He shook his head. “No. I’ve never really been that good at sports. My mom tried to get me to play baseball when I was a kid but I couldn’t throw straight so I quit—”

“Not with sports,” Emma interrupted, briefly imagining stoic Regina playing catch in the yard with a smaller version of Henry. “With Peter.”

Henry immediately tensed. “…No. He’s just like that to everyone.”

“Is he?”

The teen took a breath and shook his head. “He hates me because of my mom. She was failing him and he got kicked off the baseball team freshman year.”

“As an athlete, he should know to keep his grades up,” Emma pointed out. “And there’s no reason to blame you for what is ultimately his fault.”

Henry shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

“If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here,” Emma said sincerely.

“Thanks,” he said with a small smile. He glanced at the clock. “Would it be okay if I stayed here for lunch? That’s when he usually…”

Emma nodded. “Absolutely. And if he asks, just tell him I gave you detention or something.”

He gave her a look that looked too much like Regina. “Would you actually give a kid detention for hitting you with a dodgeball?”

“No,” Emma said honestly, “but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”

Henry grinned. “Right.”

——

Emma was packing up her bag at the end of the day, getting ready to head back to her apartment, when the door to her office flew open with a bang. She jumped a bit and looked up to see Regina standing there with a new and much more fierce form of rage on her face.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Going home?” Emma said as she started to feel her defensive stance come up. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Regina slammed her hands on the desk and put her face right up on Emma’s. “I have a problem with you giving my son a detention for no damn reason.”

“No damn reason?” Emma countered. She could tell the truth, but Regina’s anger has now added to Emma’s own. “He threw a dodgeball at my head.”

“Maybe if you had paid attention you wouldn’t have been hit,” the brunette snarled back. “Do your job and this wouldn’t happen.”

“Why don’t you do your job and pay attention to your son for once?”

Regina was taken aback by that comment. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Emma stood back and ran a hand over her face. “Look, he’s having a rough time with another student. I just gave him a place where he could get away from it.” She looked back over at Regina, her voice softening. “It wasn’t a real detention. He’s not a bad kid, Regina.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “He hasn’t said anything about… struggling.”

Emma looked across at her. “Regina… it’s not your fa—”

“I will see you tomorrow, Miss Swan,” she interrupted, turning and marching swiftly out the door before Emma could say anything.

——

“You told my mom about Peter,” Henry muttered in her office two days later.

Emma didn’t know how to react to the confrontation. “I… I said what I needed to after she came in and yelled at me for giving you detention. I know it wasn’t my place to tell her about your issues—”

“It wasn’t,” Henry interrupted. “But… I understand why.” He pulled out his lunch and started to settle in.

Emma pulled out her own. “Did she talk to you about it?”

“A little,” he said. “She doesn’t really know what to do. I told her I’ve been talking to Dr. Hopper about it.”

“That’s good,” Emma said. “That’s really good. It’s progress.”

Henry shrugged. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

Emma leaned forward and placed her hand on his arm. “She’s trying, Henry.”

Henry thought about it before giving a small smile. “Yeah, I guess she is.”

——

“You headed out soon?” Robin asked as he locked up his door.

Emma shook her head as she continued to stretch. “Nah, I figured I’d stick around and use the free weights while I can.”

Robin chuckled. “Understandable. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“See you,” Emma said with a brief wave as she bent forward to touch her toes. She looked at the clock and noticed it was already 5:00— most teachers would be gone by now. She shrugged off her shirt, leaving just a sports bra and her spandex pants. No one would be around, anyway, and if there were people there certainly weren’t any students.

She finished up her stretching and walked over to the weights, picking one up and beginning her workout. She was just finishing up and putting the equipment away when she heard the clack of heels echoing across the gym floor.

Locking up the weight room, Emma turned and wiped her towel across her face, trying to at least pretend to look presentable as the brunette walked over to her.

“Hey, Regina,” she greeted breathlessly.

Regina paused in her steps, drawing her gaze down across Emma’s body. Emma started to feel self conscious and wrapped the towel around her shoulders, holding it so her arms blocked off part of her body.

“Miss Swan,” Regina finally greeted, her eyes snapping back up to meet Emma’s. “What are you still doing here?”

“Working out,” Emma said, gesturing to her sweaty and athletic-wear-clad body.

Regina glanced down again, her lips opening minutely. Emma saw the slightest twitch of an eyebrow as Regina’s eyes locked onto her abs before looking back up at Emma. “I can see that.”

There was an awkward pause. “Did you… need something?” Emma asked uncertainly.

“I was simply wondering if Henry was here,” Regina said. “He wasn’t in the library, where he usually is after school, and I didn’t know if he decided to come and join you again.” She shifted uncomfortably. “I can see that he is not, so I will go check… elsewhere.”

“Sure,” Emma said, not sure what she was agreeing to. “Sorry I couldn’t have been more help.”

Regina plastered a fake smile on her face. “No worries, Miss Swan. I will see you tomorrow.” With that, she turned around sharply and walked out of the gym, leaving Emma to wonder what the hell just happened.

——

Emma was sitting at lunch again with Graham, and this time Ruby had joined them.

“Did you hear about Mary-Margaret and David?” Ruby asked with a sly grin.

Graham’s eyes widened. “No, what?”

“Wait— who’s David?” Emma asked.

Ruby looked around quickly before leaning in. “David’s Principal Midas’ ex-husband. Their divorce was fine— no harsh feelings on either side— but Leroy said that he overheard Belle telling Archie that she found them messing around in the art closet the other day after hours…”

“No!” Graham whispered in shock.

Ruby nodded. “Oh yeah. Belle’s been avoiding them ever since.”

The door to the lounge opened up at that moment and Regina strutted in with her usual grace. She looked over and caught eyes with Emma, giving her a small, polite smile before continuing over to the microwave.

“Did she just… did she just smile at you?” Ruby asked.

Emma shrugged. “Yeah, what’s the big deal?”

“She never smiles at anyone, unless it’s a ‘I’m going to destroy your happiness’ kind of smile,” Ruby said with a glance towards the brunette still standing by the microwave.

Emma snorted. “She’s not some… evil queen, you know.” She gave another shrug. “She’s just… human, like the rest of us.”

Ruby raised her eyebrows at that, before her eyes widened and a grin split her face. She let out a laugh before covering her mouth.

“What?” Emma asked, getting insulted on Regina’s behalf. “You don’t think she has feelings like the rest of us?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Ruby said, shaking her head. She leaned forward. “You totally like her!”

Graham shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearing his throat and looking everywhere but at the two of them.

“I do not!” Emma said. “She’s… well, I guess we’re… really good acquaintances? Maybe friends?”

“Girlfriends,” Ruby said with a little cackle. “You guys are totally—”

“Who are girlfriends?” a deep voice asked from behind Emma. She turned to see Regina standing there with her fresh-out-of-the-microwave lunch.

“Uh— nobody,” Emma said unconvincingly.

Regina raised an eyebrow at her. “Is that so?”

“Lacey!” Ruby intercepted. “Uh, yeah! Lacey, you know, from the bar? She and Emma are totally like…” She interlocked her fingers. “Tight. Yep. Totally made for each other.”

Emma shook her head at the younger woman. “What…?”

“I wasn’t aware you were into the fairer sex, Miss Swan,” Regina said darkly, her eyes trained on Emma’s.

“Are you kidding?” Ruby snorted. “She’s as gay as they come.”

“Thanks, Rubes,” Emma muttered.

“Well,” Regina said coolly. “You could do much better than Lacey, my dear.” She turned and left the room without another word.

All three of the people sitting at the table stared at the door that she just exited out of.

“Did she just… come on to me?” Emma asked.

Ruby laughed. “Yep.” She sighed and went back to her lunch. “You know, if I didn’t know Mills better, I’d say she was crushing hard on you.”

Emma continued to stare at the door for a moment longer. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “Me, too.”

——

It was Friday night and the bar was slower than usual. Ruby and Graham were finishing up a game of pool at one end, while Emma sat by herself at the bar, nursing the third beer she’d had since they arrived.

“Need anything stronger?”

Emma looked up to see Lacey standing behind the bar, drying off a glass. Emma shook her head. “Nah, not tonight.”

“Love problems?” the bartender asked.

“How…?”

Lacey gave a comforting smile. “When you’ve been bartending as long as I have, you’ve seen it all.”

Emma tilted her head in acknowledgement. She took another sip of her beer. “I’m just… falling for straight girls. You know how it is.”

“Oh don’t I,” Lacey said with a roll of her eyes. “I hate it so much, because by the time you find out there’s no way you have a chance… you’re already too far gone.”

Emma nodded her head in agreement. “Yep.” She slumped down a little, resting her head on one of her hands. “I just… she’s really pretty? And her son is awesome and I think we could totally have a cute little family…”

Lacey gave a little chuckle. “Yep. You’ve got it bad.” She wiped down the counter next to Emma. “My advice? Distance yourself while you can, before you get too deep.”

Emma swirled her drink around, watching the beer rush in circles. “I might already be too deep.”

——

Emma heard a familiar voice shouting on the other end of the gym. She looked over to see Regina standing tensely in front of Robin. Emma tried to ignore them as she kept cleaning up the equipment left behind from the school day. It became difficult, however, when Regina’s voiced raised and started echoing around the gymnasium.

“I have told you on multiple occasions that I am not interested—”

“And you still have yet to give me a reasonable answer!” Robin retorted. “I know your type, Regina. I know of your past relationship with Officer Graham—”

“Which, may I remind you, is none of your business,” she snarled back at him.

Robin sighed loudly. “Regina, come on— one date. I’ll pay for everything. I promise it’ll be the best night—”

“I highly doubt that,” Regina interrupted. She took a deep breath and let it out, calming herself down internally. When she spoke again, Emma had to strain to hear her. “Look, if it was a different time in my life, I would probably accept the offer. But since I can guarantee nothing’s going to come of it—”

Robin interrupted her this time. “Seriously?” Now his voice was raised. “You basically just admitted we would work together!”

“In the past, yes. Perhaps. But not now!”

“Why the hell not?” he yelled.

“Because I’m gay!”

Silence descended in the gymnasium. Emma stopped in her tracks and dropped the basketball that was in her hand. The noise grabbed the attentions of the feuding duo at the other end of the gym. Emma watched as Regina’s features quickly morphed into something Emma couldn’t quite figure out before Regina turned on a heel and marched out of the room.

Robin stood still for a few minutes before retreating into his office, muttering to himself and shaking his head.

Emma stood stunned for a minute before going back to grab the basketball she dropped. She held onto it, staring at the ball but not focusing on it as her thoughts jumbled up in her brain.

Gay? As in… likes girls? As in… prefers to be in relationships with girls…

I’m a girl. I like girls. I like Regina, specifically. But do I even stand a chance with her?

Why had she kept it a secret all this time?

A voice interrupted Emma’s thoughts. “Hey, Emma! You ready yet?” Graham came up to Emma and noticed her expression. “You okay?”

Emma lifted her gaze to meet his. “She’s… she’s gay?”

Graham’s eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly. “She told you?”

“Not… exactly…” Emma trailed off. “Wait, how do you know? When were you going to tell me?”

“I told you, it’s not my place to tell.”

Emma remembered their conversation from her first day. “That’s the reason you two broke up?”

Graham nodded. “Yeah. She was wondering why we weren’t connecting the way she thought we should have and she realized her sexuality wasn’t what she thought it was.��

“So she’s gay gay?”

Graham sighed. “Yes, Emma, she’s gay gay, whatever that means. She likes ladies as much as I like ladies.”

“And as much as I like ladies,” Emma said softly.

“You got it so bad,” Graham said, shaking his head with a smile.

She nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I do.” She smiled. “But at least now I know I have a chance.”

——

She was sitting in her office the next morning when she heard a soft knock on the door. She looked up and saw Regina standing there.

“Hi,” Emma said with a smile.

Regina let out a breath. “Hello, Miss Swan.” She stood there awkwardly in the doorway.

“C’mon in,” Emma said, standing up and walking to the other side of her desk before leaning back on it, her legs crossed at her ankles.

Regina took a step in, her hands still stuffed deep into the pockets of her jacket. She pointedly looked everywhere but at Emma.

“What can I do for you?” Emma prompted, feeling the tension in the other woman seep into her.

“I…” Regina paused. “I want to talk about what you… may have overheard yesterday afternoon.” She took her hands out of her pockets and started to intertwine them nervously in front of her stomach. “I’m not… usually so… blasé about my…” She coughed before finally looking up to meet Emma’s eyes. “I just would prefer that you kept that information to yourself.”

Emma nodded. “Of course. I’m not going to out you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Trust me, I know what it’s like to be forced into saying something you’re not ready to say yet.” She stood up straight. “But… if you don’t mind me saying—”

“I do mind, Miss Swan,” Regina interrupted, crossing her arms over her chest and putting up her usual defensive mask. “My sexuality is of no concern to anyone, nor do I need any so-called advice from you.”

Her words hit Emma hard, causing the blonde to look down and bite her lip in frustration. “Fine,” she said quietly, looking back up at Regina with a hard glare. “Forgive me for trying to be a friend.” She walked back around her desk and sat down roughly in her chair. “If you don’t mind, I have a lot of paperwork to fill out.”

Regina stood there for a moment longer, looking like she was about to say something more, before turning and leaving.

——

For the next two weeks, Emma avoided Regina as much as possible. She sat with her back to the microwave at lunch (when she actually chose to eat lunch in the faculty lounge), she left as soon as she could at the end of the day, and she changed the subject whenever Graham decided to bring her up.

She knew it couldn’t last forever, though, and her plans were foiled at exactly 3:03 that day. Three minutes after school ended, and 27 before Emma could officially go home.

The door to her office burst open and Regina strode in, closing the door behind her.

“Why yes, do come in, make yourself at home,” Emma said sarcastically.

“This needs to stop,” Regina said sharply.

Emma rolled her eyes. “Sorry I don’t wait on you hand and foot like all the other teachers—”

“No, not that,” Regina said, walking up to stand right in front of Emma’s desk. “This… thing between you and I.”

“What, our acquaintanceship?” Emma asked. “I’m not sure we could get much lower without becoming enemies— unless that’s what you want, that is.”

Regina sighed. “I am sorry for what I said to you, Miss Swan. I did not mean it the way it came out. I do… like our friendship, and I wish for us to be friends again. I am simply… defensive.”

“You think?”

It was Regina’s turn to roll her eyes. “Miss Swan, I am trying to apologize.”

Emma leaned back in her chair. “You never even call me by my first name, how are we supposed to be friends?”

Regina huffed. “Emma.” She raised her eyebrows. “Happy?”

Emma smiled. “Yes, quite frankly I am.”

“Good.” There was a moment of silence between the two. “So… apology accepted?”

“I…” Emma paused. “As long as you promise not to get all weird and defensive about being gay. I know what it’s like to be closeted. I just thought you could use someone who’s been through it to help you out.”

Regina nodded and gave an apologetic smile towards Emma. “I am sorry. I’ve known about my sexuality for nearly a year now, but I suppose I still worry about people’s reactions.”

“You don’t have to worry about mine,” Emma said with a comforting smile. “After all, it’d be pretty crazy for me to not accept you for who you are.” She gave a small laugh.

“I suppose it would,” Regina said, her smile widening. “So… you are… gay gay.”

Emma laughed. “Yes, I’m gay gay.” She gestured around her. “I mean, c’mon, I fit the best stereotype out there.”

Regina smiled, but this time it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “And are you… still in a relationship with Lacey?”

Emma’s forehead creased. “Lacey…?” She remembered their conversation months ago. “Oh! No, no no no.” She laughed. “No, that was all Ruby. She was trying to cover up the conversation we were having and that was her first thought.”

Regina raised an eyebrow. “So you are not with her?”

Emma shook her head. “No.”

“Good.”

Emma tilted her head. “Good?”

Regina nodded. “Yes.” She reached onto Emma’s desk and pulled a pen out of her haphazard jar and grabbed a sticky note, scribbling something down before holding the note and the pen out to Emma.

Emma took the piece of paper and noticed it was as phone number. “What’s this?”

“My number,” Regina said as if it was the most obvious thing (which it technically was). She thrust the pen towards Emma again. “If you would be so kind as to write yours down for me.”

“Uh— yeah, sure,” Emma said, taking the pen and scrawling her own number on another sticky note before handing it to Regina. “Can I ask what for?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Regina asked. “I’m asking you on a date, Emma.”

“Oh!” Emma said, startled by the revelation. “No… it wasn’t obvious.”

Regina tilted her head in confusion. “Oh. My bad.” She straightened her posture before looking back at Emma. “Emma, would you be interested in accompanying me on a date this weekend?”

Emma smiled. “Yes, yes I would.”

Regina smiled. “Good.” She held up the sticky note in her hand. “I have your number, and you have mine. I will text you with the details.”

“I look forward to it,” Emma said with a grin.

“Good,” Regina replied, suddenly looking nervous again. “Well… I will see you tomorrow.” She turned and walked out of the room.

“You most certainly will,” Emma said, looking down at the note cradled in her hand.

“Oh, and Miss Swan?”

Emma looked up to see Regina poking her head in the doorway. “Yeah?”

“Do try and watch where you’re driving this time.”

#swanqueenweek #swan queen #swan queen fanfic #emma swan #regina mills #ouat #mine #my writing #this is probably my longest oneshot ever #even though in all technicality it should be even longer

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