I know, I know. I have a million projects open. But after that premiere, all the muse wants to write now is Captain Book BroTP. This won't be a straight-up story like my others, more like a collection of loosely connected drabbles or vignettes taking place during the six-week down time between 4A and 4B.
"Belle?" Emma called, pushing open the door to the library. That it was 20 minutes past closing and the lights still spilled into the streets didn't bother Emma. That it was two days into Belle's self-imposed sabbatical from all things Dewey Decimal did.
She took cautious steps toward the circulation desk, hoping more than expecting that the woman had given in to a late night chick lit binge, but hesitated at the sight of the fleet of study tables, normally clear and welcoming, now nearly buried beneath stacks of books like little literary skylines. She ran a finger along one of the ancient wooden pieces, a tented sign sitting atop the highest tower ("100's: Philosophy") and she had to admit, if this was a thief, they were the most meticulous she had met yet.
"Swan?"
Movement caught her eye as Killian leaned into view from behind the tidy towers of the farthest table ("900's: History/Geography").
She strode toward him.
"Breaking and entering and organizing, Killian? You're going soft in your old age."
"It's not breaking if I used a key, darling."
He leaned back to his table, his hook propping open a hardback in his lap.
"I'm supposed to believe Belle gave you the key to the library?"
"Of course not," he replied, licking a finger before turning a page, "she gave it to Henry."
A door to the backroom pushed open and Henry appeared, tugging along an empty cart almost taller than himself. "Found one—oh, hey, Mom."
Killian snapped his book closed (Pirate Hunter of the Caribbean), rising as Henry drew the cart up to the table. Handful by handful, he started loading the stacks of books onto the cart.
Emma frowned.
"Should I ask what's going on here?"
Henry starting sorting books onto the other side of the cart. "When the second curse reset Storybrooke, it scrambled all the shelves. Belle's been working to fix it, but between Zelena and Ingrid and—"
"—Getting a dream wedding and nightmare divorce—"
"—she hasn't made much progress, so I volunteered to help while she's… off."
The townspeople may have had their own opinions about Gold, but no one reveled in watching Belle grieve her marriage built on lies, nor questioned when she closed both shop and library until further notice.
Her eyes trailed to Killian who, despite working with just the one hand, kept pretty good pace with Henry. "And he's here because?"
"Escaping both curses left me here without a day job," Killian replied, keeping an eye to the spines as he double-checked the cutter order. "Seems about time I found full-time employment."
"Shelving?"
"Apologizing."
"Belle found a stand-in librarian to re-open the library," Henry continued. "But she says they'll need help with the grunt work, so I've been showing Killian how to sort and shelve."
"All right," Emma conceded, grabbing a chair for herself. She whipped out her phone and scrolled through her contacts. "Chinese or Pizza? Which do we want?"
The cart thunked as Killian dropped the last volume into place. "We?"
"If you think I'm passing up a front row seat to the infamous Captain Hook relegated to small-town library page, you're crazy."
Lips pressed into an unamused line, Killian shoved the now-full cart toward emptied shelves with a bit more force than strictly necessary.
"Careful with that one," Henry warned. "It likes to tip."
"Of that," Killian grunted, "I am well aware."