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#Smee is a precious cinnamon roll
not-wholly-unheroic · 17 days
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cleverqueencommander · 7 months
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Anthony: *exists*
Tumblr Descendants: asshffvjbdehvdgbdhydsvjydxjkbvsgnxcjb, a disaster, a pretty boy, quick! Somebody give that boy a hug! Let that mf wear nice clothes! He deserves nice things! Gay™️
Li’l Shang: *exists*
Tumblr Descendants: a precious boy, but he has the world’s shittiest name. He deserves better.
Diego de Vil: *exists*
Tumblr Descendants: *hugs him gently*
Aziz: *exists*
Tumblr Descendants: we want to see more of him.
Hadie: *exists*
Tumblr Descendants: that’s a baby right there! Our precious cinnamon roll deserves way better than what de la Cruz did to him.
Sammy Smee: *exists*
Tumblr Descendants: Gay™️
Herkie: *exists*
Tumblr Descendants: Herkie…..right. Herkie…
Descendants book boys in the Tumblr Descendants nutshell.
Y’all can add more about these boys if you want
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lilacmoon83 · 5 years
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Witness Protection
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Also on Fanfiction.net and A03
Chapter 5: Surprises
Mary Margaret leaned against the door frame with a dreamy look, as she listened to her husband sing to their daughter. David had a gorgeous voice and it was very soothing to Emma. And very sexy to Mary Margaret. Their daughter had been fighting sleep tonight and had extorted three bedtime stories from her father and a lullaby. She teased him about how he was such putty in her tiny hands. And he couldn't disagree. She was anxious on that night though, for she had something very special to reveal to him. So when Emma finally fell asleep, she felt the butterflies in her stomach and she eagerly kissed him once they were downstairs and behind the curtain where their bed was.
"Wow...someone is frisky tonight," he purred, as their lips parted and she bit her bottom lip.
"I am…" she agreed, as she unbuttoned his shirt and smoothed her hands along his bare chest.
"There's a bottle chilling in the fridge. Why don't you go get it and maybe I'll be wearing less clothes when you get back," she purred back. He grinned and kissed her again, as he hurried to the kitchen. He grabbed two wine glasses and opened the fridge. But instead of finding wine, he found a bottle of sparkling pear cider.
"Hey...you haven't drank any of this since…" he said, as he thought about it and trailed off. He looked back at her, his face filled with awe and hope. She had changed out of her clothes and into a maternity nightgown that she wasn't filling out yet, but he recognized it too. She nodded. He set the bottle and glasses down, before running toward her and sweeping her into his arms. She giggled, as he kissed her passionately.
"How far along?" he asked, as he carried her to bed, while kissing her again.
"Mmm...well, I've only taken a pregnancy test, but I have all the symptoms. I'm going to get it confirmed tomorrow afternoon after lunch. I was hoping my handsome husband will join me," she replied. He grinned kissed her again.
"Oh, there is nothing that could keep me away, my darling," he said, as he lay her on the bed.
"I never imagined being as happy as you've made me," she gushed. He smiled.
"Me either...but let's see if I can make us even happier," he replied, as they melted into each other.
~*~
Weaver walked into Roni's bar late that evening. He knew she was getting ready to close, but they were friends and she never turned him or Rogers away, even after she flipped the closed sign.
"I haven't seen you look this bothered since Leopold Blanchard bought his way out of that conviction last year," Roni said, as she dried some glassware.
"I need a drink," he said and she complied by pouring him some brandy.
"What's going on?" she questioned, as he downed the liquid.
"I always track Blanchard's travel and his private jet touched down in Los Angeles earlier tonight," he replied.
"Okaaay...and that's bad why?" she asked.
"It's bad, because he wasn't on it. I just had it verified by one of my rat bastard moles," he replied with distaste.
"And can you trust this rat bastard?" Roni asked.
"Not really...but he's easily bought. Trust me, Smee is well paid and said that Leopold Blanchard wasn't on that plane," Weaver replied, as he put a stack of pages on the counter.
"But I think he was on this one," Weaver said, as he showed her the page.
"United flight to Portland, Maine...Leo White?" she asked in disbelief.
"He thinks this alias won't raise any red flags with me, but he was still foolish enough to fly business first class," Weaver replied.
"You're sure?" she asked with trepidation. He nodded.
"It's what my gut is telling me," he confirmed.
"Portland is only an hour or so from Storybrooke…" she feared, as she picked up the phone.
"Don't…" he said.
"What do you mean? We need to warn Mary and David!" she exclaimed.
"If we warn them...they'll run and Blanchard will just come back here once the trail goes cold. But...if we play this right, we can catch him once and for all," Weaver said. Her eyes widened.
"You want to use Mary and David as bait for him to slip up?" she asked in disbelief.
"I don't like it either, but we could take Leopold Blanchard out if we play this right. I've already called Rogers and we're leaving for Maine tonight," he said.
"Then you better buy another ticket, because I'm going with you," she said, as she did a shot. He smirked.
"Already did. Go pack," he said, as she went to do so.
~*~
Leopold's rental, a luxury model of course, slowly drove past a sign that said "Welcome to Storybrooke." His first impression was about what he expected. A small, recluse town that held none of the prestige and fine living that he knew in Seattle. He almost rolled his eyes and wondered how his daughter could be happy in such a Podunk spot. No skyscrapers, fine restaurants, or five-star hotels. The tallest building was a clocktower that didn't even work, judging by the time of eight-fifteen on the clock face. And there were a few generic eateries, including a diner, and one Inn of all things. It was incredibly disappointing that his daughter had settled for this, but he knew he had to play this right. If she saw him first, she'd run to her husband and they would be in the wind again, before he could blink. But if he could endear himself to her new friends, she couldn't reject him without making a spectacle.
He was almost certain that none of her new friends knew anything about her real past and any hostility toward him wouldn't make a lot of sense. Yes...it was high time that he and his daughter finally talked and he was certain this would make it happen. Only when the time was exactly right would he bring her and his granddaughter back under his control. And do away with her cop husband.
He started the morning by renting a room at the Inn and endearing himself to the elderly woman that owned it. He told her he was here to surprise his daughter and see his precious granddaughter. Widow Lucas was excited by such and invited him over to the diner, telling him that Margaret, her husband, and the baby were frequent customers. He agreed that it would be the perfect place for his "surprise".
~*~
Mary Margaret awoke that morning and realized she had slept in. But she wasn't worried, for it was Saturday and she was looking forward to spending the day with her baby. She turned over, finding her husband's spot empty, but he wasn't far and she spied him buttoning up his shirt.
"Good morning," she cooed. He smiled.
"Good morning to you too, beautiful," he replied, as he leaned down and kissed her tenderly.
"Early patrol?" she asked.
"Yeah, I promised Graham I would, but I'll meet you and Em for lunch at the diner. Then we'll go to the hospital for your appointment," he replied excitedly. She smiled.
"That sounds great," she agreed, as she heard Emma in the living room, as she laughed at the cartoon on television. It was one of the sweetest sounds in the world and soon they would have two of those precious sounds.
"She's eating her Cheerios and I've still got a few minutes if you want to shower quick," he said.
"Thanks baby," she said, as she got up and headed for the bathroom.
~*~
"I got here as soon as I could, but I still don't have a sitter that can stay with Alice for more than a few hours," Rogers said, as he burst into Roni's bar early that morning.
"It's okay...we'll bring her with us," Weaver responded.
"I can watch her when needed," Roni confirmed, as he saw a redhead, also with a toddler, behind the bar.
"You better be going if you're going to make your plane," Zelena urged, as she stood behind the bar.
"Thanks for doing this, Zelena," Roni said.
"No problem, sis...now go," she said, in annoyance.
"Bye bye Robin…" Roni said, as she kissed her niece and then took Alice from Rogers, while he proceeded to load their bags into Weaver's car, before they took off for the airport.
~*~
Mary Margaret pushed Emma in the stroller, along Main Street. She gave nods and returned friendly waves, as she passed people. She loved her new home and their quiet life. She loved walking down the street and how everyone knew her. Many stopped to dote on Emma a bit and exchange pleasantries. Honestly, Mary Margaret thought places like this only existed in Hallmark movies.
She stopped at a few shops, bought Emma a few things, as she was growing so fast and then quietly gushed over all the baby stuff. She had so much fun with it the first time around that she knew it would be the same this time.
But when she walked into the diner, reality slammed into her again and reminded her that this wasn't a movie and that her quiet life was really one in witness protection. And she had been found.
"Oh Margaret...you're here! Surprise!" Ruby and Granny exclaimed, as they gestured to her father, who sat calmly in a booth, sipping at some coffee. But she was anything but calm. There was a raging storm inside her and she plucked Emma up out of the stroller.
"What...what are you doing here?" she questioned. He smirked.
"Just visiting my beautiful daughter and my equally lovely granddaughter. Your wonderful friends were very excited to help me keep my surprise under wraps," he replied in an even tone. Mary Margaret looked at her friends and they looked excited for her. But then why wouldn't they? They really had no idea about her past and just who her father was, let alone what he had done.
"I got you a hot cocoa with cinnamon and I can fill Emma's sippy cup with milk if you want?" Red offered.
"Um...sure, thanks Ruby," Mary Margaret said, distractedly, as she handed her the sippy cup and shifted her daughter in her arms. Emma whimpered, as she sensed her mother's unease.
"Sit down, girl...and I'll get an order started for you. Will David be joining you?" Granny asked.
"Yes...David should be here any minute," Mary Margaret replied, as she looked her father in the eyes. Not aware of her stress, Granny bustled off to the kitchen, while Ruby returned with a sippy cup of milk for Emma, before leaving father and daughter to talk.
"How did you find us?" she demanded to know.
"It wasn't easy...this town isn't even on some maps. Which is why I'm sure your friend Captain Weaver chose it," Leopold replied.
"And what exactly are you trying to do by acting like you're some loving, doting father to my friends?" she hissed.
"I was those things, my dear...until you ran away and told the Police all those things about me," he responded.
"I told them the truth...that you are a monster and just being near you again makes my skin crawl," she hissed in return.
"Please Mary...I came to make amends,"
"Amends?!" she hissed.
"You tried to have my husband killed, on more than one occasion!" she continued, still speaking quietly enough so as not to cause a panic.
"But I came myself this time. I want to put this messy business between us to rest," Leopold claimed.
"I walked in on your killing someone and then you tried to assault me," she reminded.
"And I am asking for your forgiveness. I want to be in your life again...and my granddaughter's life as well," he stated. But she didn't buy it and got up from the table.
"Don't walk away from me, Mary...you and your husband will not make it very far if you run this time," he warned. And she looked at him in alarm.
"Have you done something to David?" she questioned, but she sighed in relief, as David walked into the diner at that moment.
"David…" she whimpered, as he saw her father sitting in the booth and his eyes widened. He was by her side in an instant and touched the handcuffs on his belt, just as Granny brought plates of food out.
"Here we are...lunch for this little family reunion. Enjoy," she said.
"Yes...let's sit down and have a family meal together. I assure you that you want to hear what I have to say," Leopold stated calmly. David looked at her and she nodded reluctantly to him, conveying everything to him with her expression. He put a hand on the small of her back and they slid into the booth across from him.
"If you're here to try and take my family from me, then you're in for one hell of a fight that I promise you'll lose," David stated firmly. Leopold smirked in amusement.
"I'm not here to take anything, Detective. Oh, I'm sorry...I guess it's Deputy now," the older man responded.
"Then why are you here?" David asked.
"To put this family back together," Leopold claimed. But neither of them bought that for a second, but they did know that simply running at this point would be ill advised. Leopold likely had people waiting for them to do so and in this instance, staying put was actually safer. No, they had to play this just right until he could contact Weaver and Rogers. And also very publicly. Their new friends had no idea what Leopold was really like and David sensed that the older man wanted to keep his past under wraps for now. That meant they would have to play nice too in order to keep this from escalating to a bad place. So that's what they would do...for now. No more running. This was their home and he was tired of this man looming over them. They would stand against him once and for all and by the end, he was determined that Leopold Blanchard would be going to prison for the rest of his life...
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searchingwardrobes · 5 years
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Twister: 7/7
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Finally! The conclusion of my Twister AU, as promised. Many thanks to @yayimallamaagain who gave me the idea for this story.
Can also be read on Ao3
I have two collections there of movie AUs: Captain Swan is My Favorite Rom Com  and Captain Swan is My Favorite Rom Com: Second Edition
Tagging @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @bethacaciakay @kday426 @jennjenn615 @shipsxahoy @shady-swan-jones @tiganasummertree @artistic-writer​ @teamhook​ @cat-sophia​ @hollyethecurious​ @coliferoncer​ @thejacketandthehook​ @dassala​ @branlovestowrite​ @allofdafandoms-blog​ @flslp87​ @pocket-anon​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @snidgetsafan​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​
The sunlight when Emma opened her eyes the next morning was dappled as it streamed in through the filmy lace curtains. Her head was pillowed against Killian’s warm chest, his arm wrapped loosely around her hip. She craned her neck to find him still asleep. His face always looked so relaxed in sleep, free from the lines that he held most of the time, even when he was young. His confidence and swagger made people believe he hadn’t a care in the world, but Emma could always see through it.
It wasn’t your fault, she had told him yesterday. And she could see from the tortured gaze in his eyes that he had a hard time believing it, even now. But here in this room, all that guilt, all that tension left him. It had always been that way.
As she had drifted off to sleep, sated and hair still slightly damp from their extremely enjoyable exertion, she had worried if the morning light would bring panic. Instead, she lay here feeling a peace that had eluded her since the day she ran. The day she ran. She could admit it now.
Still she gazed at him. She had never forgotten how beautiful he was, but seeing it up close here in his embrace was different. The sculpted muscles of his chest, rising and falling with each breath, his dark hair sticking up messily the way it had the night he first stood in her bedroom doorway, the masculine line of his jaw covered in ginger-dotted scruff. His head lay sideways on the pillow, showing off his neck. He had a great one that she loved to nuzzle with her nose and nip with her teeth. And those ears, slightly pointed. Even at ten she had been fascinated by those ears.
The nuzzling and nipping was suddenly extremely tempting on that inviting neck and adorable ears, but then he would wake up, and she didn’t think she could handle his sleepy gaze in the light of day. They needed to talk about what this meant, and she had a feeling that wouldn’t happen with both of them naked and still in that delicious hazy bubble of intimacy. She slipped out of his embrace as carefully as she could, grabbing up her clothes and tiptoeing into the on-suite bathroom.
She slipped into a comfortable t-shirt and jeans, threw her hair up into a messy ponytail, and then tiptoed from the room. The hallway was silent, so she figured Ruby and Ariel were still asleep. Smee had bunked down in the camper. She walked as quietly as she could down the stairs. The living room was empty, but she heard someone puttering around in the kitchen along with delicious smells both sweet and savory. She heard the crackling of bacon as she drew closer to the kitchen, and when she stepped through the open doorway, she found Granny at work in front of the stove.
“It’s rare for you to be the first one up,” she commented as she turned and slid a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon across the kitchen island towards Emma.
Emma settled onto the bar stool with a shrug as Granny leveled her with a scrutinizing gaze. A blush inexplicably rose to her cheeks.
“Don’t break his heart again,” Granny told her with no preamble.
“I - what – why would you,” Emma stuttered.
“Please,” she scoffed as she turned back to the sizzling bacon on the stove, “you two have always thought I was too stupid to know what was going on right under my own roof. I know Killian never slept in his bed last night. And I may be in my seventies, but I know a woman’s I just got laid blush.”
Emma choked on her eggs.
Granny continued as if she weren’t making Emma turn ten shades of red. “Do you have any idea the constant worry I was in from the moment I caught you two half-undressed as teenagers? I should have told them to find one of you another home, but God forgive me, I loved you both too much to let either one of you go.”
She turned then, giving Emma a knowing grin over the rim of her coffee mug.
“We weren’t having sex!” Emma protested, squirming on her stool as if she were fourteen again.
“Well I wasn’t taking any chances.”
Emma snorted as she swallowed a bite of egg. “Yeah, I know. You marched me down to that clinic and got me birth control pills. I thought I might die of humiliation.”
Granny laughed. “That was nothing compared to Killian’s reaction when I showed him the condoms I’d put in his nightstand.”
Emma was able to laugh too, then.
“I thought the poor boy would faint right then and there, he turned so pale. Those eyes of his big as saucers.” Granny shook her head as she set her mug down on the island. “But Emma, honey, that boy has loved you since the second he laid eyes on you. He may have only been twelve, but I’ll never forget the look on his face when you stepped out of the social worker’s car that day.”
“I’ve loved him too,” Emma whispered, “for as long as I can remember. I never meant to hurt him. I was just -”
“Scared,” Granny finished for her. She reached over and squeezed her hand, “I know, honey.”
“Am I uh – interrupting something?”
Granny looked up, and Emma swiveled towards the doorway at the voice. Killian stood there, nervously scratching behind his ear. He must have taken a quick shower because his hair was wet and combed. His eyes bounced off Emma’s a bit nervously, and Emma suddenly knew what Granny meant by the I just got laid blush. Granny told him to have a seat as she set another place, and Killian took it, offering Emma a small smile.
“See what I mean,” Granny quipped, “you two were looking at each other the same way Thanksgiving morning Killian’s first year of college, and I knew he’d finally opened that box of condoms.”
It was Killian’s turn to choke on his eggs, and Granny laughed.
“You both had the goofiest grins on your faces, and I knew it wasn’t my sweet potato pancakes.”
“Those were some damn good pancakes,” Killian quipped right back, a crooked smile on his face even as the tips of his ears burned red.
“Did somebody say something about pancakes?”
Ruby’s voice was scratchy as she shuffled into the kitchen, her hair a mess and still in her pajamas. She was a night owl who hated mornings. Ariel skipped in behind her in a cute outfit, hair perfect and makeup already done. Ruby scowled at her perky friend as she plopped down on the bar stool beside Emma.
“No pancakes,” Granny answered as she opened the oven door, “but I did make cinnamon rolls.”
Ruby, Emma, and Killian all cheered as if they were kids again. Granny set the pan down on the
Island and swatted at their hands as they reached for the gooey rolls.
“Let me get the spatula before you burn your fingers.”
Emma exchanged glances with first Killian and then Ruby. She hadn’t realized how much she missed her unconventional family. She hadn’t realized how much Henry needed this; how much she needed this. And she knew in that moment that her life needed a drastic change. For Henry’s sake and hers. Okay, and for Killian’s sake too.
Emma had just taken her first bite of cinnamon roll when Smee came bursting through the kitchen door, the screen banging shut behind him.
“This is it!” he shouted, his cheeks red and his hands trembling as he twisted his knit cap. “Something’s brewing just west of her, and whatever it is, it’s big. It’ll get Dot in the air for sure! Could be a category 4.”
Ruby was suddenly wide awake, whooping loudly before shoving half a cinnamon roll in her mouth. Ariel bounced up from her seat, hugging Killian from behind and shaking him with glee. Ruby was running back and forth like a hamster in a cage, not sure if she should join Smee to prep the machine or get dressed first.
Killian on the other hand sat with both fists clenched on top of the kitchen island, his head down, jaw clenching. Emma watched him, her brow furrowed with both confusion and concern. It was the type of storm they had been waiting for, so why wasn’t he running for the truck? He finally lifted his head and turned to her with intensity in his eyes and a soft smile upon his face.
“I’m not going.”
His words were like a thunder clap that instantly stilled the excitement in the room. Ariel pulled away from him as if she didn’t recognize him. Smee was so shocked he dropped his precious cap on the ground, then stumbled when he bent to retrieve it. Ruby’s eyes grew wide, then she blinked and rapidly shook her head.
“What the hell?” she sputtered.
“Ruby -” he started.
“No,” she silenced him, “we’ve been risking our lives, running all over tornado alley like a bunch of insane people, and now that we’ve got the perfect conditions to make all our hard work pay off, you’re just gonna say no?”
Killian stood slowly. “Look, I’m not saying you all shouldn’t go. As a matter of fact, I want you to. Rubes, you know Dot even better than I do at this point. Smee is the best storm tracker in the business, and Ariel can analyze all the data with her eyes closed. Face it, you don’t really need me anymore.”
“Wait?” Smee asked, nervously putting his hat on, then taking it off again, “Are you saying you’re quitting for good? Or just sitting this one out?”
Emma had been frozen in her seat, following the back and forth like it was a tennis match. She knew her mouth was probably hanging open, too. That was confirmed when Kilian’s gaze traveled back to hers, and she had to snap it shut. The moment was so heavy she could hear her own pulse pounding in her ears.
“I’m saying,” he said slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, “that I’ve chased my last storm.” Amidst the cries of protest from Smee, Ruby, and Ariel he reached his hand out to Emma. “Can we talk privately?”
She bit on her lower lip, wondering if she was still asleep and possibly dreaming as she rose to follow him into the living room. As she walked through the doorway, she glanced back to see Granny with her hand pressed to her mouth and tears shimmering behind her bifocals.
Once they were far enough away from the arguing in the kitchen, Killian turned to Emma and took both of her hands in his. He rubbed her knuckles with his thumbs as he spoke.
“Emma, I know last night didn’t fix everything between us. We have a lot to figure out, I know that. But this isn’t about me or us, this is about our son. About me being a father. I can’t risk my life anymore. Not when Henry needs me.” He tore his gaze from hers to face the window. The blue morning sky glittered before them. Wherever the storm cell was, it was far away from here, at least for now. He sighed wistfully. “And you were right. All these years, I’ve been paying penance, or trying to. Thinking that I had to make what happened to Liam right.”
Emma released his hands so she could grasp his face and gently turn it towards her. “Hey, listen to me. You also have a bit of a hero complex.”
He chuckled sheepishly, his lashes lowering bashfully. She rubbed her thumbs along his cheekbones. He stepped closer, pressing his forehead to hers.
“I still love you, Emma. I never stopped.”
“I know,” she whispered, “but -”
He silenced her with a chaste kiss. “But you need time. I get it. Being Henry’s father is non-negotiable. But us? Whatever we become from here is up to you as much as it is to me. We’ll go at your pace.”
Then he drew Emma into his embrace, and she was finally able to nuzzle against that neck she loved so much. She wasn’t sure they could ever be anything less than soul mates. He rubbed her back with one hand and buried the other in her hair.
“I will be moving to Atlanta, though. I can’t have several states between me and Henry. They may not have any more openings at the Weather Channel, but I’m sure some local station will have me.” He pulled back to give her his most flirtatious grin.
Emma shook her head and smiled. “Oh God, they’ll be fighting over you. Every woman in Atlanta will gladly wake up to get their weather report from a man as sexy as you.”
He raised both eyebrows, his eyes sparkling with delight. “Oh, so I’m sexy, huh?”
Emma swatted him in the chest and rolled her eyes. “Please, as if you don’t know.”
He laughed, but then his features quickly morphed into a serious expression. “It is alright, though? Me moving to be closer?”
“Of course. Henry needs you in his life.” She bit her tongue before she could blurt out that she needed him too. Instead, she pushed up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. When she pulled away, his smile told her that he knew what she was thinking anyway.
“I knew it! They got back together.”
They jumped apart and turned to see Ruby standing there with her hands on her hips. She was pretending to be pissed, but the tiny smile quirking the corner of her mouth gave her away.
“Did you hear that, Smee?” she shouted as she turned back towards the kitchen. “You owe me twenty bucks!”
**************************************************
Emma had the window down, letting the air tug wisps of hair from her ponytail. Killian was
tapping his fingers on the steering wheel of Granny’s old pickup to the beat of the song playing on the radio. She could honestly say she hadn’t been this happy since she left Oklahoma.
“I can’t wait to see Henry,” Emma said.
Killian smiled. “I can’t wait to meet him. Those Skype calls just weren’t enough.”
Emma reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Please forgive me for keeping him from you. It was so wrong.”
He took one hand off the wheel to squeeze her hand. “You already said that, Swan. And I already forgave you.” He then took her hand from his shoulder and pressed a kiss to it. Emma threaded their fingers together as he rested their hands on his knee, scooting across the bench seat to rest her head on his shoulder.
“You need to be in your seatbelt,” he told her, but his words were belied by the kiss he pressed to the top of her head.
Butterflies were doing the conga in Emma’s stomach. Were they really doing this? Were they really driving to Killian’s apartment so he could pack a few things? Were they really taking a flight back to Atlanta? Together? She kept expecting to wake up in her room back at Granny’s, cold and alone.
Killian began to sing along to another song on the radio, something soft and low. The warm breeze combined with his voice lulled Emma to sleep.
She wasn’t sure how long she had drifted off when Killian’s phone jolted her awake. She blinked her bleary eyes and ran her tongue over her dry lips as Killian answered. His widening eyes and sudden clenching of the steering wheel woke her up fully.
“What?” he said, voice rising.
Emma’s heartbeat tripled as she grasped his arm. “What? What's happened?”
“Thanks, Smee, I'm on my way.” Killian tossed the phone aside as he took an abrupt turn onto the shoulder of the road. The truck bounced as he turned them around to head back the way they had just come.
“The storm took a sharp turn east,” Killian explained, jaw clenching, “an F4 tornado just touched down. No warning.”
Emma gasped, her fingers digging into Killian’s arm. “Where?”
But she knew even before the word left Killian’s lips, “Home.”
***********************************************
Emma and Killian had wanted to ride in the ambulance too, but the rules only allowed for one ride along. They all knew it had to be Ruby. Granny had been incoherent, her bloody face rolling side to side on the stretcher, moans of pain the only thing falling from her lips. Emma stood now in front of the rubble that used to be their home, her arms crossed firmly over her chest. Her finger nails dug into her upper arms as the rage seethed beneath her skin. She pressed her eyelids closed as the tears welled up. Another home reduced to a pile of kindling. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. An odd screeching sound brought Emma’s head up. The only thing that remained of Granny’s precious house was the railing of the kitchen porch. Hanging crazily from one post was a homemade windcatcher made of aluminum soda cans. Emma choked on a laugh which turned into a sob as it left her throat. They were always teasing Granny about those ugly things.
Killian came up behind her and wrapped her up in his arms. He rested his chin on her head and she leaned back into him. He said nothing, no hope speeches, no easy platitudes. He was never one for those, and she had always loved that about him.
“They had no warning,” she said.
“I know.”
She watched the windmill of cut aluminum spin faster in a sudden breeze. She stepped from Killian’s embrace to come closer, mesmerized by the whirling colors. Killian followed a step behind.
“Did you know,” Emma said softly, still not turning to look at him, “that they found my mother’s body in a tree a mile away from our farmhouse?”
“Emma -”
She cut him off with a raised hand as she turned to face him. “My father still held my brother in his arms, shielding him with his body. But it didn’t matter.” She shook her head, lips pressed together as tears tracked down her cheeks. “Not when the roof came down on them.”
“Emma,” he said again, reaching for her, “don’t do this to yourself.”
“No!” Emma said, stepping away and turning back to stare at Granny’s windcatcher.
She heard Killian drop his arms, his palms slapping against his thighs. She crossed her arms again, her eyes narrowing as she made a decision.
“We need to chase one more storm,” she finally said.
She turned to face Killian with a determined look on her face. Ariel and Smee had joined him, and all three of them looked at her as if she’d finally snapped.
“Emma,” Killian said her name for a third time, voice gentle, “we decided that storm chasing does nothing to change anything.”
“Not the past,” Emma said, voice growing in excitement, “but it can change the future.” She gestured to the destruction up and down the residential street. “Remember our dream? Of preventing things like this? If we get those sensors in the air, if we can map a tornado like we dreamed, we could better predict these things. Give people time to take shelter.”
Killian ran both hands through his hair. “But you saw it for yourself. We can’t seem to get Dot airborne.”
Emma smiled as she looked at the windcatcher again. “Maybe it isn’t Dot that needs to fly.” She looked at Killian with a sparkle in her eyes. “And we’ve been thinking of the wrong story. Remember Peter Pan? Think of the sensors like the fairies. We just need to give them wings.”
***********************************************
By the time the four of them were chasing the twister that had formed from the storm cell, they all had band aids covering their fingers. They had dug out Granny’s large collection of soda cans from the debris and used them to attach aluminum “wings” to each and every sensor. Emma almost lost her balance as the camper bounced along.
“Quit getting up!” Killian shouted at her from the driver’s seat of the camper.
“I’m just trying to give Ariel a hand,” Emma shouted back. “We don’t have Ruby, remember?”
“Well then, hang on!” he took a sharp curve while shouting coordinates to Smee in the pickup. Emma grabbed onto the countertop of the kitchenette behind her. Ariel paid no mind to the bouncing, since she was strapped into her chair in front of the computers.
“Drop location is precisely half a mile a head!” Ariel shouted to Killian. “Or should be,” she grumbled under her breath, her lips moving in a silent prayer. Emma had been in the business long enough to know the truth of that statement.
Killian relayed the information to Smee, then turned off the side of the road. He unbuckled and climbed back to join Emma and Ariel at the radar.
“I hope Smee’s ready for this,” he grumbled, grasping Emma’s hand tightly.
She squeezed it back in understanding. Killian had been adamant about keeping he and Emma as far away from the storm as possible. Relatively speaking, anyway. So Smee had volunteered to drop Dot.
The silence in the camper was palpable as the three of them intently watched first the radar, then the data from the machine, and back again. Smee was no longer reachable because he was so close to the storm, but a blinking blue light on the screen showed where Dot was in relation to the funnel cloud. The funnel moved closer, and closer . . . Emma realized she was holding her breath. And then . . .
Ariel’s scream almost pierced Emma’s ear drum as dozens of yellow lights lit up her computer screen. Data poured in as the red head scrambled to input all of it. Killian pressed Emma to him and kissed her soundly.
“We did it, Swan, we did it!” he wept into her ear as he held her close.
“It’s mapping the storm,” Ariel whispered, “look at this! Temperature readings within the funnel, barometric pressure, I mean, we’ve got to analyze all this but . . . but . . . “
Killian yanked a giddy Ariel out of her chair and spun her around awkwardly in the small space. Then Emma and Ariel embraced. They were laughing and crying as Smee burst into the camper and joined the insane celebration. Killian took the man’s cap off his head and planted a smacking kiss to his balding pate. The camper was practically shaking with their collective excitement.
“Ruby is going to be so pissed that she missed this!” Ariel laughed.
“Ruby!” Killian cried, grabbing Emma. “Come on, we’ve got to get to the hospital!”
Despite her worries for Granny, Emma was on cloud nine as they clambered into the truck. Rain was pouring down, but Emma didn’t care. She yanked Killian towards her, tangling her tongue with his in a sloppy kiss as he started the truck, and he laughed against her mouth. They got the truck on the road, the windshield wipers beating a soothing rhythm.
Until they weren’t.
The hair on Emma’s arms stood on end as the rain suddenly stopped and an unsettled calm filled the air. A loud whistle pierced the air just as Smee’s voice came crackling through Killian’s walkie talkie.
“Boss, the storm, it’s -”
“Right on top of us,” Emma finished as she turned to look out the back window of the truck. An F4 if she ever saw one, sending dirt across the sky turning the late afternoon pitch black. Killian swerved the truck onto a dirt road to their left. A farmhouse sat at the end of the lane, and a terrified family with small children were racing across the lawn to a storm shelter. Killian laid on the horn to get their attention, but the storm swallowed the sound. Emma looked behind her again, terror turning her blood cold. It was closer.
Killian had the pedal all the way to the floor board, but still the storm was gaining on them. He put on the brakes when they got close to the storm cellar, and he dragged Emma across the bench seats, as if he were too afraid to have the truck between them. They ran as fast as they could to the storm cellar, but Kilian couldn’t get it open. They kicked on it, pounded on it, but they knew it was useless. They couldn’t even hear each other over the roar of the storm. The family likely had no idea they were even there.
Killian gestured to the barn, and Emma nodded. Sometimes farms had barn cellars for storage. It was their only chance. It took both of them to open the barn door against the force of the storm. Once inside, they frantically shoved aside hay with their hands and feet until finally, thankfully, Killian found a metal ring imbedded in the floor. He yanked on it to reveal a cellar filled with hay.
“Get in,” he shouted, pushing her towards the hay crib.
Images of her mother suddenly flashed through Emma’s brain. That final expression on her face just before she shoved Emma into the storm cellar. “Hell no,” Emma muttered under her breath, and before Killian could react, she threw her arms around him in a bear hug and pitched both of them into the dark barn cellar. The hay cushioned their fall somewhat, but Emma still groaned as sharp pain radiated from her shoulder at the impact. Above their heads, the door slammed shut and darkness enveloped them.
******************************************************
“Here they are!”
Emma could hear Smee far above, and she could even see a bit of sunlight out of the corner of
her eyes. But she didn’t care about any of it. Not when Killian’s body was pressed against hers, one hand tangled in her hair, the other one sliding up her shirt, his mouth fused with hers. She could hear the silence around them, knew the storm was over, but she didn’t care about that either. A thought niggled the back of her mind, the thought that if Ariel came running, she probably didn’t want to see the two of them literally rolling in the hay, but once again, she just didn’t care.
Killian broke their kiss just long enough to shout up at Smee, “Can’t you see we need a minute?”
Emma shook her head and laughed as he grinned down at her; she could just make out the blue of his eyes and the white of his teeth in the pitch dark of the hay crib as he returned her smile. He then dove back in to kiss her again, the heat of it muddling every coherent thought in her head. The hay was probably dirty, and she should probably be concerned about what could be living down here, but all that mattered was the man who held her. She was finally home.
********************************************************
Killian grabbed her elbow loosely as she reached for the doorknob.
“Are you sure he’s ready for this?” he scratched behind his ear, then dropped his hand to rub
nervously at his scruff. “I mean, I’ve missed the first two years of his life, and . . . “
Emma smiled at him gently as she took his hand and squeezed it. “He’s been Skyping with you for weeks now. He likes you already, I can tell. And we’re not telling him you’re his father today. We’ll ease into this, alright? Let you two get to know each other first.”
He nodded and let out a shaky breath. She brushed a kiss to his cheek, then let her nose drop to that delightful dip in his neck. His nervousness meeting their son was incredibly adorable, and truth be told, it was kind of turning her on. He brushed a kiss to the top of her head and gave her waist a squeeze. She stepped back from him, and he gave her a firm nod as he inhaled a sharp breath. She pushed the door open.
Elsa was in the living room playing toy trains on the floor with Henry. The little boy squealed at the sight of his mother and tossed aside the little train in his hand to run for her. Emma knelt down and caught him as he flung himself into her arms.
“Oh, I missed you, kiddo,” she murmured, pressing loud kisses to his cheek. Henry giggled, the sound turning her heart to mush.
Elsa came forward and briefly introduced herself to Killian before turning to Emma and whispering in her ear. “I’ll just go to my room and let you three have some privacy.” She winked at Emma in encouragement before slipping out of the room.
Emma turned to Killian, and her heart went from mush to a puddle at her feet at the look in his eyes as he gazed in wonder at their son. She swallowed thickly before she could speak. “Henry, do you remember talking to Killian on Skype?”
Henry’s blue eyes were wide as he nodded his head. Emma took a step closer to Killian.
“Well, he wanted to meet you. Can you say hi?”
“Hi,” Henry mumbled shyly. He tucked his head under Emma’s chin, burying his face against her chest.
Killian’s brow furrowed in concern, his eyes a bit hurt at Henry’s reluctance. He’s fine, Emma mouthed over the boy’s head.
“Henry,” Killian said hesitantly, “I got you something. Do you want to see it?”
Henry turned his face to look at the man that he didn’t yet know was his father. He still kept his head resting on Emma’s chest as Killian moved over to the couch. Henry lifted his head in curiosity at the gift bag resting on Killian’s knees. Emma sat down on the couch slowly, and as she did, Henry reached out to peek into the bag. He then slid off his mother’s lap to get a better look. He smiled tentatively when he saw the contents, and looked up questioningly at the man before him.
“You can take it out,” Killian encouraged, “it’s yours.”
Henry grinned and reached into the bag to pull out the bright yellow dump truck. One of its wheels got caught on the handle, and Killian reached out to help him free it. Henry plopped down on the ground with the toy, pushing it back and forth as he made vrooming sounds. Killian slowly moved to the floor as well to sit next to the child.
“It’s got blocks, too, Henry,” he told him. Killian pushed the back of the dump truck so that the brightly colored blocks tumbled out on to the floor. “See?”
Henry gasped in surprise and delight, his eyes shining as they met Killian’s. He crawled over to collect the blocks and put them back in the truck only to dump them again. Before long, Killian was crawling around on the floor with him, making crashing noises as Henry made the dump truck drive over his trains. Emma sat back on the couch watching them, her heart swelling in her chest.
An hour later, a tuckered out Henry had fallen asleep on Killian’s shoulder, and Emma didn’t think she had ever seen anything more beautiful. She couldn’t help the tears that suddenly coursed down her cheeks. Killian looked at her in alarm.
“What is it, love?” he whispered.
“Nothing,” she told him in a watery voice, “I’m just happy. I’m not quite used to it yet.”
“I know what you mean,” he whispered back, then he turned and kissed the top of Henry’s sweaty head.
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