He orders a vanilla cupcake every day.
Every. Day.
And it's not that regulars are weird or anything, it's just that, well... He doesn't look like a vanilla guy. Guyliner, leather jacket, head-to-toe black. Not to mention the earring. Nothing about the Irishman says 'vanilla'.
Tequila-lemon dipped in chocolate, maybe, but not vanilla.
So yeah, Emma's a little bit curious now.
And no, it has nothing to do with the blue eyes or the ruffled hair or the... accent.
It's just weird, and Emma was bored the minute she poured her fifth cup of coffee the morning she started this job.
So when he comes in, smirk settled temptingly on his lips and hands shoved carelessly in his pockets, she's just bursting with curiosity. He opens his mouth to order, as usual, and she just can't help herself.
"Why vanilla?" She asks suddenly, and she wants to clap her hands over her mouth, stop sound from leaving her ever again, because he smiles, wide and knowing and smug... and ignores her question.
"Blackberry muffin, please." And now this is just weird, because he's changed his order. None of the regulars have ever changed their order. Not ever. She tilts her head, mouth hanging a bit open, and he laughs.
And it's nice.
And she huffs, more than a bit embarrassed and very, very curious, because he still hasn't answered her question. She hands him the muffin awkwardly, practically shoving it at him from across the counter.
She's not usually at a loss for words, so Ruby quirks an eyebrow at her as he leaves, muffin in hand and smile still set in his face. Emma shakes her head, fuming and fighting a smile.
The next day is the same. Sort of.
She asks him what his name is, and that smile comes up again. He reaches out a hand to shake, and she takes it warily.
"Killian Jones," he grins, and feeling challenged, she shoots him a matching smirk.
"Emma Swan," and then, sensing an opportunity, "Why the muffin?"
He orders a piece of carrot cake.
The day after that she's prepared. She baked a round of carrot cake that morning, fresh and hot. When he comes in, she lays down a slice in front of him before he even reaches the counter. He looks down, a fond smile playing with the edges of his mouth. He looks back up at her, meeting her eyes with an innocent, breezy smile.
"Maple scone, please." She wants to slump down and bang her head against the counter. She also wants to punch him. In the face. With her face.
She gives it to him, and he breaks it in half later to find a piece of paper stuffed into it.
WHY VANILLA CUPCAKES?
He laughs and folds it up, hiding it in his pocket.
Ruby begins calling him her future husband. Emma hits her with a dish towel.
Every day for three months he manages to find something different to order. A banana muffin, peanut butter cupcake, chocolate torte, huckleberry danish. Until eventually he has to loop around and start off the list again.
Emma is not prepared for three more months of this insanity.
"What do I have to do to make you stop?" She eventually sighs, handing over an onion-parmesan bagel.
He smiles, the same way he does every day, and this time he turns back, leans over the counter like he's going to talk to her. Like he's flirting.
"Go out with me. Today." His tone warps the words, making what could have been sleazy or lazy pleading and hesitant instead. "Please."
She stands for a moment, eyes flicking over his face as though checking he's serious.
"Yeah?" Her voice trembles a bit, and his smile softens, from confident ladykiller to shy bookworm.
"Yeah." Emma notices she's been twisting the dishrag between her hands for the duration of the conversation and she puts it down.
"Okay." She swallows, smiling. "Where?"
"No 'why'?" He smiles back.
"I've learned, you see." She laughs, taking off her apron. "That one doesn't work with you."
"Ah, of course." She steps around the counter and he proffers his arm. "Milady."
"Milady my ass," she snorts. "I'm just Emma."
"Emma." Her name is sunshine off his tongue. "Emma." He nods, and they walk.
It's a lovely date, actually. They eat lemon angel food cake on the grass in Central Park, and there aren't even bugs.
It's a nice change from the last few whiskey-fueled one-night stands Emma has substituted for 'dates'.
The next day she finds herself anticipating his arrival. She realizes she's been doing that for three months. How odd.
"Coconut pound cake, please." She rolls her eyes and they both laugh. "Still not asking why?"
"Never again," she chuckles, resigned. "'Why' doesn't even sound like a word anymore."
"Would you like me to tell you?" He asked, leaning over the counter on his clasped hands. Emma leans against the pastry case and nods, amused by this turn of events. Ruby is watching hungrily from around the supply closet.
"Of course," Emma scoffs. "Was three and a half months not enough to show you the lack of mysteries in my life?" He chuckles.
"The first day I came into town, I saw this place. You were on a break, I suppose, and you were eating a vanilla cupcake." He smiled fondly, lost in thought. "You said they were your favorite. I came in, to get away from the heat, and when I ordered one you smiled. I was a bit nervous, you know, new in town, so I didn't have the courage to ask you out then, and the cake was so good I came back the next day. I ordered the same thing, and you smiled again. I think I just wanted to see you smile." Emma smiles, trying to imagine Killian shy.
"You're kind of a creeper, you know that?" He looks suitably offended, and begins to protest, but she cuts him off with a kiss.
"Why did you stop?" He asks, disgruntled, after she breaks away.
"Finish your story, creeper man, and then we can kiss." Emma pulls herself onto the edge of the counter, swinging her legs around so she's next to him. Killian raises an eyebrow, and she grins. "So why the changing order?"
"You stopped smiling." He looks nervously at his hands. "I thought it would be a way to get to know you, maybe surprise you into smiling."
Emma smiles.
Then she kisses him.
He smiles into the kiss, and they're both grinning like fools, kissing and smiling and laughing.
And Ruby gives them the picture of that kiss on their wedding day.
Emma smacks her with a napkin.