So the Chicago Cubs (hereafter referred to as MY BABIEZ!) clinched their division and it reminded me this was a thing I posted to Tumblr a few months back. Somehow a prompt for "slushie" turned into a kiss cam fic.

"I still can't believe they let you in with that thing," said Emma. She glanced around at the black and yellow dots milling about the ballpark, before looking down at Killian. He lounged back in his chair, buffing the round of his hook on the knee of his jeans.

"In all my travels, I've never found a world that treated pirates as heroes."

"They're not actual pirates, Killian," Emma said as she shifted in her seat to turn the ankle of one foot, then the other. Black wedge heels were not made for flights of stadium stairs, but because lives in Storybrooke so often depended on her choices in footwear, they had been sitting in her closet unused for years and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to get at least one day off out of them. "They're athletes. Pirates are just their mascots."

"Yes, I gathered that when the lad with the bat didn't bludgeon the lad who threw the stone at him."

The batter in question struck out, ending the inning. Emma sat in her own seat as the jumbotrons rolled with commercial video.

"It's called a baseball, and I genuinely thought you would be more into this."

Killian leaned into her space, made a point of looking up and down the long legs exposed by her short shorts, and licked his lips. "How can when there are such distractions around?"

Emma snickered and might have leaned over for a quick kiss—except the fans behind them picked that precise moment to break into song.

"YO HO! HAUL TOGETHER! HOIST THE COLORS HIIIIIIIGH!"

It was only the third inning of a day game but some troup of frat boys behind them had clearly pre-gamed. Emma turned around in her seat to give them her Sherrif glare—and froze sold.

"HEAVE HO! THIEVES AND BEGGARS! NEVER SHALL WE DIIIIIIE!"

Indeed, what looked like five frat boys, each dressed in an exaggerated pirate costume, swayed arm in arm as they sang. There was a Blackbeard, a Jack Sparrow, a Captain Morgan, a Barbossa, and a–

"Killian, don't–"

Too late, Killian turned to the source of the sound, and his eyes fell on the waxed mustache and black ringlet perm of the fifth frat boy, who waved cheesy plastic hook through the air.

To his credit, Killian handled it better than Emma expected, only sliding a fatigued glance her way.

"Duuuuuuude!" Frat Hook pointed at Killian, his oversized red hat (and likewise his black wig) askew on his head. "That thing is frickin' boss yo! Where'd you get it?"

Killian was still turned in his seat, facing backward, his elbow over the back of the seat, his steel hook on prominent display. He opened his mouth to say something but Emma cut him off.

"Amazon," she said. "It's his lucky prop. Wears it for every game." She leaned over to him under the guise of pecking him on his cheek, but softly whispered, "Please, no murder today."

"Aye," Killian added, speaking for the frat boys' benefit. "It's almost like it's a part of me."

The boys chuckled, Barbossa shouted out another "Heave Ho!" and they were off singing another round. Killian turned back around in his seat, but the annoyance on his face melted when his eyes fell on the jumbotron.

Killian sat forward. "Hello, what's this?"

Emma glanced to the massive screen, where a young couple pressed their lips together in an embarrassed kiss. The screen flashed and another couple, older, nestled somewhere in the bleachers caught sight of themselves and leaned in for a kiss of their own.

"Oh, that's the Kiss Cam," she answered. "It's just something they do at commercial breaks and stuff to pass the time. If the camera lands on you, you're supposed to kiss the person you're with."

"Really, now?" Killian's voice rose in interest and he again leaned into her space. "Perhaps we should warm up, in case we are called upon."

Emma snickered. "There are like fifty-thousand people here, Killian. The chance of us landing on the Kiss Cam is like zero."

"Mmmmhmm," replied Killian in a way that sounded more like he was scheming rather than agreeing.

Emma raised a knowing eyebrow at him. "Just drink your slushie."

"My what?"

"Your slushie," Emma pulled a cup out of his cupholder, condensation drops wetting her hand, and handed it to him. "It's gonna melt."

Killian took the cup and sucked icy blue liquid into his mouth. She could tell when it hit the back of his throat because his eyes widened suddenly, and he looked as if he was going to spit it all out. But he swallowed, looked at the cup, and smacked his lips.

"Tastes just like Jell-O, but colder," he said, twirled his tongue around the bent straw once, twice, three times then pursed his mouth to suck again.

Emma opened her mouth to reply, but a crack of a bat drew her attention back to the game. She hadn't noticed the teams retaking the field. The Pirate at bat landed the ball deep in a corner with no defense in sight. She jumped to her feet and cheered as the batter rounded first and sped toward second. An outfielder got to the ball, and tossed it to the second basemen, but not before batter hit the bag and the crowd erupted in such a cheer that Emma almost didn't hear the pathetic groan at her side.

"Swan…"

Emma looked to Killian, still seated, his head between his knees and his hands clamped over his head.

"The slushie, I think it was poisoned."

Emma sucked in a breath and bent to look at Killian. She cupped his jaw with her hand and turned his face up to hers. His lips were so covered in blue raspberry that they almost matched his eyes, and she had to bite back a laugh. She glanced to the slushie cup, the clear bubble lid completely empty.

"Does it feel like a really, really bad headache?" she asked.

He nodded. Eyes closed.

"It's just brain freeze, it'll pass." She reached for her own cup. "Here, drink the rest of my beer. It's warm now, it'll help."

She handed it to him and he gulped it first, then held some in his mouth. Slowly, the creases of pain on his face eased and he opened his eyes.

Emma couldn't hold back the laughter and Killian frowned. "You look like you made out with a Smurf."

Killian's gaze hardened. "Vile little demons."

"Oh no," snipped Emma, reaching into her bag for a wet nap. She ripped open a packet, pulled out the little tissue, and wiped at his face. "You are not ruining Smurfs for me."

Another crack of the bat put another runner on first, but Emma was slightly distracted by Killian's lips.

"Yo, bro," came a loud voice from above. "I gotta piss, hold my gear for me?"

A red brocade coat dropped down over Killian's shoulders, followed by a black wig, and red hat with a wild white plume.

She could see his skin crawling under the weight of the flamboyant fabric.

"Murder bad," she whispered, and threw the tissue, now dark blue, back into her purse. She stood up, meaning to take the wig and hat off of him, but paused when she felt an odd prickle of her skin. Maybe it was her magic, maybe it was instinct, but when the bat cracked again, she dove in front of Killian. Almost too fast for the eye to see, a foul ball sailed straight at—

With the smack of ball against flesh and the collective intake of tens of thousands of breaths, Emma landed face up in Killian's lap, the ball, in her grip, only an inch from his face.

Cheers that had nothing to do with the game rose around them. "So much for the Savior's day off," Killian chuckled, and wrapped an arm around her to shift her to her feet. Something caught the corner of his eye, though, and the gentle shift turned into a sudden grab as he pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers. The cheers quickly turned to hoots. Thousands and thousands and thousands of hoots.

Emma pulled back, breaking the kiss to look at him grinning under the wild wig..

"Just following orders, love," he said, and nodded toward the jumbotron. She looked. The shot centered on her looking to all the world like she had just fallen into Captain Hook's lap, a leg in the air with the most ridiculous-for-baseball wedge on her foot, and a group of four frat boy pirates dropping moves behind them.

She saw Killian grinning back at her on the screen. "Let's do this again, Swan. I think I'm starting to like this game."

She only flipped the hat and wig off of his head and pulled him down for another kiss.