Prompt: Ruby sets Emma up for a day in the movies with a hot guy with the same seat co-ordinates. Emma doesn't know this. Killian doesn't know this. And someone's going to end up angry as hell, believe me. Shameless, AU Captain Swan one-shot.
(A/N: This was previously on my bud AllAboardTheRollyJoger's account, but since-
Oh screw it. Find out the reason that this story's on my account and not on hers on my profile. It's at the bottom. I re-wrote and changed a few things in the story, though, while editing.
Anyhow, I came up with this story while participating in an Invention Convention my teachers organised, along with my vague friend (now we're actually really good friends), who was sitting on the table next to mine.
Since I didn't have a partner for the Convention, and his partner for it was God-knows-where, we talked via paper, because we were too tired to talk and I like writing back and forth better. Soon his dude partner was back, and was all frowny cause he didn't have anyone to talk to 'cause my friend and I were writing, and he complained that to a teacher, becoming friends with a pink balloon.
...Yep, sounds crazy as ever.)
Warnings: Some swearing. There hopefully will be a day I won't need a warnings list. Hopefully.
Disclaimer: I don't own any elements of the show Once Upon A Time, and do not have any earnings for writing about it. Anything else you recognise I don't own, and do not intend any plagiarism. Apologies on the HUGE pre-story message, by the way.
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...
The Thief of Many Things
That bastard.
For Emma, it wasn't a great or any kind of natural experience to have your (Gold-Class, mind you) seating at Woven Gold Cinema taken by a cheating, annoying, overly-enjoying-himself son of a bitch.
...Is it normal to judge people that fast just by looking at them?
Okay, fine, the person who so willingly stole her seat at the movies was a stranger, but come on.
The blonde had had her fair share of public embarrassment and unfair situations, and yet the universe just had to add on to the already-horrible day she was having?
She internally sighed. First a fight with her now ex-boyfriend, Walsh, that cheating tool, then another fight with her close roommate, Mary Margaret, about the daily chores around the house and the massive amount of PDA she was having with David lately, waiting for tickets for seemingly hours, then waiting forever again for the concession stand.
Emma chuckled darkly. She was lucky enough to have even reached the correct movie theatre.
It was Row 4, Seat 8.
Rolling her eyes with a short grumble, she silently thanked God that the seat next to the favoured one was left vacant. Emma slipped into it's soft, scarlet velveted comfort, placing all of her movie food down, next to her, but sought on getting Seat-Stealer out of her seat and somewhere she-honestly-couldn't-give-a-fuck-where. For once, she needed to enjoy herself.
She had time. After all, the advertisements were infamously known for running a long wait until the movie began.
Damn him for making the day worse by placing his ass on the seat in the first place.
Lifting her left arm silently, she gingerly poked the leather-clad man's shoulder. Hard. It was bound to get his attention, since Emma had been through so much of a living hell of a day that she couldn't be damned using a nailcutter. While doing so, she kept her eyes on the screen nonchalantly, watching the ads roll by ("This guy is hot! This girl is hot! Wanna see 'em bang?"), like she was ever-so-interested.
The stranger must be medically unable to feel out of his right shoulder, or he's just really rude. He stayed where and what he was - a chick-flick watching, (and yes, that was what she wanted to watch for some reason after a break up) shit-eating grinner, irritating Seat-Stealer.
Damn, she had a lot of nicknames for this stranger. Well, in retrospect, it was his fault for even going to Woven Gold Cinema in the first place.
The blonde scoffed interally at the brains of the guy. Hell, if she was Seat-Stealer, she would be content that she wasn't bleeding or crying in the corner from that poke. Well, visibly, that is. Attempt after another, she continued to poke the insolent fool.
POKE. POKE. POKE. POKEPOKEPOKEPOKEPOKEPOKEPOKEPOKEPOKEPOKEPOKE.
"What, bloody woman?!" The stranger whisper-shouted furiously, turning his face toward Emma's for a split second before reverting his vision back to the could tell he was pissed, and was glad he'd given up his little calm façade. Poking gets tiring after a while. Ask frequent Facebook user, Victor. He knows.
The man had a strange lilt to his voice, sounding British/Irish (but Emma didn't know which one of the two. It was confusing as hell), and for a second his adorable little accent melted her defensive stance. It also didn't do the blonde so well that he was so handsome. Sexy, even.
(But Emma would never admit that to herself if she had to.)
(Being the stubborn soul she was.)
She shook her head, removing the mental image of her still-functioning female body, and shoved her blush down long enough for her to remember what she was planning to do. And Emma Swan most certainly does not blush. Not at all.
"You're in my seat." Emma replied simply.
"No, i'm not." Seat-Stealer replied indignantly. Childish, eh? The blonde thought irritatedly. Two can play at that game.
"Yes, you are." she lifted up her movie ticket pointedly, but from the stranger's point of view, it looked more of a normal scrap piece of paper.
"That a piece of paper? How in the bloody hell am I supposed to read that in this bitter darkness?" The stranger shot back dramatically.
Emma rolled her eyes. "Tone it down, drama queen. The lights are just dimmed a bit, even the screen's bright enough for you to read these co-ordinates!"
"'Drama queen'? Is that really the way you should talk to strangers, when you don't even know them?"
"Oh, pardon me, your highness." She told him sarcastically. "Would you prefer some other name?"
Seat-Stealer grinned widely, a tad too smug for her liking, turning to the blonde. He stuck out his right hand, inviting her to shake it. "Killian. Killian Jones."
She took it uncertainly, trying to ignore the sharp rushes of warmth at the skin contact. Emma pulled away as fast as she had taken it, shocked. But she recalled her hesitant attitude to this 'Killian'.
"Are you always giving out names to random people?" Emma raised an eyebrow. "For all you know, I could be a serial killer, waiting for the perfect moment to stab you in the neck and leave unnoticed."
Killian gave a deep chuckle. "If you were a serial killer, you wouldn't stereotypically monologue your entire plan to your target, I take it."
He had a point. But before she could reply, angry whisper-shouts came from the other audience to really shut the hell up.
In unison, the pair rolled their eyes. It's just the advertisements, not the actual fucking movie!
Even so, they clamped their mouths shut for a period of time.
Killian had an idea. Searching his leather jacket pockets, he found a tiny scrapbook-thing, turning to the middle, where the pages sectioned and where the staple was. By ripping it in that specific place, there was a large amount of space to do what he planned. Smirking slightly, he took a pen from his back pocket.
A few moments later, Emma's lap had a little oragami boat in it. She could tell it was Killian's (because who else would be trying to communicate with her?), and looked at him. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, her mouth slightly agape; her face asked the question without saying anything:
You do oragami?
He tended to get that question a lot whenever he did it in public as entertainment, and nodded towards the blonde stranger. The question used to be really annoying whenever he got it, but he was now accostumed to it.
He gave a suggestive glance towards the little ship, silently asking her to open it. Find what he wanted to her. He gave her an easygoing smile, as if to say, it's nothing inappropriate, I promise.
With the connection they had with conversing with each other, it seemed like they knew each other for years. Like they were friends once.
Emma gave him a questioning glance towards the man, but undid the very neat oragami. (Like, it was so well-done it almost hurt to dis-assemble it.)
Her expression shifted into a I-knew-you-were-going-to-pull-that-card look, when she read what was written neatly in the top right corner.
Now, tell me what your name is, love.
Surprised briefly from Killian's very lovely calligraphy, as many men she knew had horrible handwriting, she looked around for something to write back with.
The man next to her noticed, giving her an expecting look. He handed her his pen, to which she nodded a 'thank you'.
Using the vacant arm-rest she wrote back on the piece of crumpled paper. She didn't have the best handwriting on this occasion, though. What could you expect from writing back on something that wasn't a flat surface?
Miraculously, no holes were made in the slip of paper when she wrote with the pen. God bless these seats!
Killian chuckled under his breath when he recieved her reply.
Who says 'love' in writing? Tell me what century you're from. I'm curious.
Even though the movie began, starting with the producer's logos, they continued their little note-writing back and forth, completely forgetting that they were here. Supposed to watch a movie. You know, actually looking at the screen. But all that was forgotten.
Well LOVE, he writes the second letter largely for dramatization, that will forever remain a secret. And don't change the subject. What's your name?
I'm not changing the subject, just asking to make sure you're not a weird time-traveller that I should arrest for stolen goods and fraud.
A cop, my word! You have sexy handcuffs like the others, right?
You're in the wrong business, Jones. But I still could arrest you.
Please, the only thing i could be arrested is for my dashing good looks overwhelming every lass in the land. Or man, if you roll that way.
Your ego is overwhelming me.
It'll stop if you tell me your name. It's only right when I gave you mine.
The next entry was given after a short pause of hesitation. What if he was the serial killer?
And when exactly was it your business to know?
Interrogation, what a *cop* thing to do. Anyhow, I just wanted to know something about the woman with quite the sharp finger.
Speaking of which...
Emma's emerald eyes widened. "Hey. you stole my seat!" She'd totally forgotten about her plan to extract this pretty boy out of her property!
"SHHHHHH!" The people around them whisper-shouted angrily at the blonde, some turning around to give them a very irritated look. She ignored that.
"What? No! It's mine! I have proof!"
"SHHHHHHHHH!"
Ignored once more. Killian shoved his ticket in her face and she snatched it out of his grasp.
Row 4, Seat 8. The blonde shook her head in anger. What the hell? Who would give two people the same seat? Especially in Gold Class seating that was very expensive and had good-quality, the seating arrangements were done in precise measuring, for the best comfort. Hell, the owner and boss of the establishment, Mr. Gold, had to sign a safety contract with the government for correct usage and handling!
"Someone gave us the fucking same seating." Emma silently seethed. Someone was going to a) get fired or b) die, today. She continued to fume, as the film played on, cursing whoever had done this. Wait, hold on...
Her eyes widened, then narrowed again at an unseen figure. "Not someone any more,"
Killian watched the angry woman in bated breath.
"Ruby."
Ruby Lucas, her roommate along with Mary Margeret and her fiancee, David, was a classic set-up girl, and knew, right from the start, that Neal, Graham, and now, Walsh were all users, or just bad boyfriend material in general. She even told her about how much she disliked them, and said her inner sense said they just weren't good enough for her blonde compadre. But noooo, Emma being Emma, still dated them anyway. She always wondered why her friend had never uttered the words 'I told you so'.
She really had the right to.
Ruby had a part-time job at Granny's, which was a hotel and restauraunt, owned by her grandmother and herself, as Granny was her legal guardian most of her life, her father dying before her birth, and only seeing her mother for a few months before passing away, too.
She worked as a waitress at the restaurant part of Granny's but apparently took a shift at Woven Gold Cinema for a little more cash today, surprising Emma when she was found working at the ticket stand, secretly offering her a single Gold-Class ticket for a well-rated movie, which Emma could never pay for on her own.
"Just take it," Ruby insisted, holding out the ticket with a wolfish smile."You'll need a good time here after that dolt who dumped you. Remember Gus?" They'd laughed, and Emma, in the end, accepted the ticket with a small thank-you, giving her twenty dollars anyway, which was the price for a normal, 2D movie, not the one she was going to see. She only noticed now how Ruby had winked when Killian showed her his ticket.
Ruby knew that Emma would fight for the seat.
Ruby knew that she was single.
Ruby knew that, after every breakup, she'd go to the movies, especially to Woven Gold.
And she just had the luck to get a job there and have a hot, egotistical guy in the line to target her with.
Dammit, Ruby was setting her up with a hot stranger!
Oh, she was going to kill her when she got home. She stood up.
"Hey, wait!" Killian grabbed her wrist, standing up as well. She faced in surprise. "Where're you going, lass?"
"Home. It was really nice meeting you, Killian I'll see you around."
"Wait, I never found out your nam-"
"SHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
And so, the blonde stalked out of the aisle, dismissing her new friend and giving up on her seat, clutching the piece of paper full of messages in her hand. When her figure was completely gone, Killian awkwardly sat back down.
It appeared that the cute stranger had left her concession stand food behind on her chair. Eh, he thought. More for me!
Oh, Ruby was going to be smirking the entire week because of the hook-up. And the couple who lived with them was going to be convinced that they banged. Great.
As if that wasn't enough, when Emma went back to reading the messages they wrote to each other on the scrap piece of crumpled paper, she found his number on the back, and on top of it a cursive Call Me!
Dammit, these people were too smart for their own good.
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(A/N: And there we have it folks! :D The re-upload/write of The Thief of Many Things and damn it took so long to write. I love how I said I re-wrote a few bits of the story at the start, when I actually re-did all of it. xD *DAYUM OVA TWO THOUSAND VORDS?! THE DUCK?!* But I think I'm nore happy with this version of the story that the one I wrote previously, and that's AWESOME.
But i'm so lonely I have to high five myself ;p; hue hue hue
For All I Care is coming next, baby!
Also, if you're reading my other story Happy Endings, i'll most likely update it - for the last chapter, woot woot! - two to four days from now! Just hope, okay! No promises. What can I say, I'm a busy girl. *Sorrynotsorreh.* :D
Question of the day: What movie do you think the two were about to watch?
Review for love and hugs! Fav and follow if you haven't already (you don't want to be a hipster do you? :D), and support me by reading my works! As a writer, you should love everything you write, even the really old. crappy ones, like those cookies you never ate.
Yeah, I KNOW IT WAS YOU.
Hehe, just kidding (sorta). WUV YOU!
Until next time, ladies and gents!
Thanks for readin'!)