Thursday nights and every other weekend.
That was the custody arrangement that eventually went down with Neal when Henry was five. At first Emma was terrified – leaving her kid to be picked up from school by Neal, anxiously waiting until Friday afternoon when she could pick Henry up and make sure he was okay. The weekends were hard to get through, but at least Emma could distract herself with a long heist, using the weekend to go after some of her harder bails, to throw herself into work.
The long Thursday nights were the worst though. Which was what brought Emma to Thursday night rec league dodgeball at the local YMCA. The first fall she participated it was mostly to get out some of her anger over leaving her kid alone with Neal (God knows how his lawyers managed to even get him visitation rights). The following winter, Emma played because she was actually pretty good at dodgeball. And she continued to play because she had found some stability in her life, and some potential friends even.
Over the years, Neal became more sporadic about his visits, opting to pay child support and only take Henry one weekend a month, which led to Henry tagging along at the YMCA, which led to to Henry playing hockey on Thursday nights, forming another reason for Emma to continue on with her weekly ball-throwing sessions.
And now, five years later, Emma's team (dubbed the Storybrooke Saviours) has yet to lose a session. The line-up is fantastic – Ruby is like a wolf and can sniff out when someone is going to throw a ball light enough to catch. Merida can't dodge to save her life, but when she throws the ball it never misses its target. There's Graham, who can systematically hunt out each person on the opposing team and take them out. David is dodgeball's equivalent of an All-American – he can throw, catch, and even manage a few trick shots. And David's fiancée Mary Margaret is the team's secret weapon – she looks sweet, like the team's weak link, but if you get her angry she will turn deadly. Somehow in the last five years, they have turned from a team into a family. And Emma has been eternally grateful for them, even if they can get nosey when it comes to her personal life.
Today is the start of the new fall season – and like in all previous years the Storybrooke Saviors show up to the first Thursday game wearing their most recently acquired "Rec League Champions" tee shirts. Emma has her shirt inside her bag, waiting to be put on and worn with pride. But that is not happening because Emma is running late – Henry's hockey team had some pre-practice meetings and they wanted all the parents to be present. And while Emma is happy to help Henry out, she also really needs to be there to see the competition this year.
Leaving Henry to his practice, with a promise to meet out front as usual, Emma races through the rec centre to get to the basketball courts where they play dodgeball. She rounds a corner a little too fast and bumps straight into a leather jacket attached to a torso. A hand comes to wrap around her left arm, steadying her.
"Oh, sorry," Emma says, stepping back from the figure in front of her and scanning upwards. Black leather jacket, unzipped enough to show just a bit of chest hair, the brightest blue eyes Emma has ever seen, and what can only be described as "bed hair" falling over a forehead.
"No problem at all, love," the man replies in a English accent, his hand dropping from her arm. "First day here and I already like this YMCA more than my own." He gives her a flirty smile, and one of his eyebrows quirks up.
"Yeah, well, I'm late, so…" Emma points behind the man, sidestepping him.
"Oh, of course," He says, stepping to the side himself to give her more room. "Don't let me keep you…"
Emma can tell he wants a name, but she has no time for this right now. No time for flirting with a stranger in the YMCA, and no time for dating in general. So instead she just nods, making a non-committal noise, and makes her way off to the basketball courts to find her team. Just before she goes in, Emma turns around to look back at the stranger. He is watching her, a smile on his face. Emma shakes her head and enters into the courts, where she is immediately grabbed by Ruby.
"EMMA! God, there you are! You will not BELIEVE what is happening this year!" Ruby grabs Emma's arm, pulling her towards where the Storybrooke Saviours are standing waiting for the games to begin. "There was some change-ups with the teams this year and with the YMCA on the north side of town closed for renovations - they had to relocate some of the teams."
"And that means what for us?" Emma asks, waving to the rest of the team as she bends down to pull her winner's tee shirt from her bag.
"It means we might have some competition this year," Merida says, making a motion with her head to a group on the other end of the court. There seems to be another team warming up, a team that is also wearing Rec League Winner shirts, only this time from the North YMCA.
"Nothing we can't beat if we work together though, right?" Mary Margaret asks, her eternal optimism shining through.
"Of course we will win, honey," David says, placing a light kiss on Mary Margaret's cheek. "After we crush them to oblivion," he adds, pulling Mary Margaret close and eyeing up the other team.
Emma eyes the other team before, pulling her shirt on over her sports bra. "They don't look so bad," she says, "I'm sure we can take them like they're nothing."
"I suppose we should warm up too now," Ruby adds, a glint in her eyes. "Show them what they're in for."
Emma smiles, pushing her bag to the side of the gym. "Let's just not give too much away, Ruby, okay?"
"Sure thing, Captain," Ruby gives Emma a small salute, paces a few steps back, then proceeds to throw a ball with supreme accuracy right into Emma's chest.
Emma rolls her eyes, but throws the ball back at Ruby. They continue warming up for the next ten minutes, waiting until the games truly start to bring out their full strength. Emma feels her muscles coming back to her; the familiar ache in the right shoulder, the pull in her back as she throws. She knows the aches will go away throughout the season, but with the summer off her throwing arm definitely needs some more practice. As she tries out a few catches, Emma finds her eyes drifting to the new teams warming up around her, eventually focusing on the team also wearing winner's shirts.
And in all honestly, they don't look terrifying. Much better than the majority of teams they play on a regular basis (come on, the team of Accountants never stood a chance), but still not terrifying. There is one guy with a pretty good shot on the team, from the looks of their warming up. And another who seems to be okay at catching. Though, like the Storybrooke Saviours, they could be holding out during practice for the real games.
Emma gets distracted sizing them up, almost getting hit in the face by a shot from David. She manages to see the bright red ball of rubber flying at her and ducks at the last minute only to hear the sound of the ball hitting someone behind her in the face.
"OH MY GOSH!" Emma cries, turning around to see who was hit. "I'm so sorry!" She begins, bending down to give the man a hand, and noticing the horrible mess of bed hair on his head. And then noticing the bright blue eyes he has when he looks up at her.
"No trouble at all," the man says, right handing grasping hers to help him stand. A smile forms on his face as his tongue moves into the side of his cheek. "We need to stop meeting like this, love," he says.
Emma's face reddens, and she starts to apologize when David calls from the other side of the gym, "Hey – Everyone okay over there?"
"A-OK, mate," the man in front of her calls back. "Just checking out the competition."
Before Emma has a chance to reply, there is another call, this time from someone from the team across the gym.
"OY! Jones! We thought you were going to abandon ship!"
"And let you play without a captain? No way, Scarlet!" replies the man in front of her, Jones, apparently. And that is when Emma notices the "North YMCA Team Champion" shirt he is wearing.
"Oh… oh." Emma elegantly replies, taking a step back from the competition.
Jones looks down at Emma, a smile on his face when he notices her team shirt as well. "See you on the court then…"
And with that, the mysterious Jones jogs to his team on the other side of the court and Emma is left dumbfounded as this time Ruby's ball hits her square in the forehead.
After a quick shower and smiling high fives over their team's first wins of the season, Emma wanders to the front of the YMCA and stands in the usual spot she waits in for Henry. She smiles and waves at her friends and teammates as they make their way out to the parking lot, then pulls out her phone to check on some work emails.
Henry still has another twenty minutes or so in practice, and while Emma would love to go and watch her kid and cheer him on, she also really doesn't feel like talking to the Hockey Moms any more than she had to before dodgeball. Besides, Henry had been adamant about Emma only attending games, not practices. ("You're my good luck charm, Mom. I can't have you wasting all the luck on everyday practices – we need them for games!") Thus, here Emma is, scrolling through write-ups of bail-skips and trying to figure out if she should go for a smaller payouts but easier skips to catch, or that one big payout she has her eye on which would probably take a lot longer to bring to justice.
Eventually, the long winded articles force Emma's head to pound and she closes her email, leaning back against the wall with a sigh. She closes her eyes and begins to go over the matches they played, and how ready she is to be back in the heat of the games.
Rec League dodgeball is simple: the games each last half an hour, with two games happening concurrently, one on each of the two courts. Usually the Storybrooke Saviours only show up for their own game times, only watching those that separate concurrent games. The last match ends at 8:00, while Henry's hockey practice goes until 8:30, so Emma generally spends the extra time after Dodgeball in the weights room or running up on the track.
They hadn't played what Merida has dubbed their "Rival Team" that day. Instead, they had played the accountants and a group of pre-teens. The first had been easy, the accountants really not putting much into their game and Emma allowing herself to ease back into the season. The second match against the pre-teen group was even easier, and while they had managed to get both David and Merida out, a quick catch from Ruby brought David back in for the winning shot. Jones' team, named "The Hook Shots" played against a team from the North YMCA (all men, wearing matching green tee-shirts, which seemed pretty good) and the only other good team in the league, a group of ex-high school football players.
Emma didn't have a chance to watch the Hook Shots' first game, as it happened at the same time as the Storybrooke Saviours' match against the accountants. So when all their games had finished, Emma found herself staring with vast interest at the opposing team, but her eyes mostly focused on the mysterious Captain Jones.
Emma had noticed that there are a few fantastic players on the team – first off the guy Scarlet seemed like an ass, but he definitely could play. She had noticed him get in quite a few good shots throughout the game. And the girl on the team? The bookish brunette? She could dodge like there was no tomorrow. Emma doesn't think she got hit a single time in all the games that evening. And then there was the Captain of the Hook Shots – Killian Jones.
At first Emma thought their team name was a play on words. But then she noticed the shine of metal. Captain Jones has a literal hook for a hand - and while he doesn't really use it in play, it does give him a rougher edge. Though, Emma does wonder why he would opt for the hook when it obviously makes it much harder to catch - he could probably peirce a ball or two with how sharp that thing is.
Not only does he give the team its moniker by his hooked appendage, he also has a really good right hook on his throws. Emma has never seen a dodgeball curve that much, or stay so close to the ground without touching it. And on those shots, he tends to reach forward with one leg bending really low, making it easy for Emma to view some of his other… assets.
Okay, guilty as charged, Emma Swan was staring at the ass of the captain of their rival team. But who could blame her? His shorts got tight enough when he bent down that every ridge and curve could be seen. And he definitely has a nice bottom to look at. Emma bets that he would look good in just about anything – the basketball shorts he was wearing, a nice pair of jeans, heck, even a kilt!
The sound of someone clearing their voice next to Emma breaks her focus, and she lifts her head up look beside her. Emma can feel her face turning red as she turns to the man that had occupied her thoughts for the last few minutes. She tries to avoid raking her eyes down his form (yup, the guy looks good in a pair of jeans too) but fails miserably. When she reaches his face again, he gives her a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Quickly trying to cover herself, Emma pulls out her phone and attempts to check her email again.
"Trying to avoid me, are you?" he asks, his tone asking another question entirely.
"Nope. Just getting some work done," Emma covers, trying not to drop her phone as she scrambles to look busy.
"Ah," he says, leaning back against the wall behind him. "I completely understand." There are a few minutes of silence and Emma is glad, doing her best to avoid looking at the man next to her. He is freshly showered, his hair still damp. It looks like he didn't even comb through it with more than his hands – hair sticking up in multiple directions. But even still, he looks good. And, while she is a single mom and trying her best to avoid men whenever possible, other than the occasional need to scratch an itch when Henry is at a sleepover, Emma does still have eyes. And there is no harm in looking, right?
Chancing another glance, Emma notices that Jones isn't reading his phone or occupying his time in any way other than looking at her. Her face warms again as she tries to avoid him, slightly concerned. He may be good-looking, but Emma has dealt with lots of good looking guys in her line of work that are anything but good. And the look he is giving her – Emma can't tell if it is flirty or predatory.
"Shouldn't you be getting home?" Emma asks, hoping he will leave her alone with her thoughts and daydreams.
"I could be asking you that same question, love," Jones replies. At Emma's silent stare, he figures it is a chance to continue talking. "I don't believe we were formally introduced before. Killian Jones, captain of the Hook Shots." He reaches out his right hand, leaving the ball in Emma's court.
"Emma Swan," she says with a sigh, reaching her hand out to shake Killian's. However, she is taken aback when, instead of shaking, Killian pulls her hand to his lips and leaves a lingering kiss on the back of it. Emma pulls her hand back quickly, the spot where his lips had touched burning down her arm and settling in her core. Looking up quickly, she notices Killian's smirk is back in place and one of his eyebrows is raised again.
"Pleasure to meet you, Swan," he says through the smirk. His eyes run up and down her body, and Emma once again is confused about whether she should be intrigued or scared.
"I was watching you play earlier," he continues, "Your team is very skilled. And I have to say, you are very good at some of those trick shots. I don't think I've ever seen someone throw with that much power behind it."
"Um… thanks. Practice makes perfect, I guess…" Emma says. "You guys were really good too. I didn't know it was possible for a dodgeball to curve that much. I'll have to watch out when we play you."
"Ah, checking out the competition, Swan?" Killian asks, again with the quirked eyebrow.
"Just making sure we could take you," Emma counters, her eyes sparking at the challenge. "And believe me, we can."
"We will have to see about that on the court then," Killian answers, a hint of a threat in his voice.
"Please, you couldn't handle it," Emma says, turning to face Killian so he can feel the full power of her threat.
"Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it," Killian replies, slowly leaning in so Emma can feel the heat radiating off of him. The two stare at each other, a stalemate of thoughts and threats and body language. Emma can't help it, being so close to each other, her eyes flicker down to Killian's mouth. His lips are red, and she watches as his tongue sneaks out and wets them. Emma finds that she subconsciously is licking her lips as well. Taking a deep breath, Emma forces herself to look back up at Killian's eyes, where his left eyebrow has raised itself in question.
Killian lets out a laugh, breaking the tension, and Emma finds herself both relieved and a little upset to have the other team captain backing out of her space.
"You talk a big talk there, Jones," Emma says, wanting to get in the last word.
"Trust me, Swan. I definitely have the goods to back up the talk." And, just like that, the air has shifted again from playful to heated. Obviously Killian Jones knows his way around an innuendo or two, and Emma has herself wondering if he really can back it up. He looks like he has the body to, and from his lunging throws he seems quite flexible. Emma can feel her face heating up again, and she hopes a quick change of topic will cool the air between them.
"Really, though, what are you still doing here? Your last game ended almost an hour ago," Emma asks. Instantly Jones's demeanor changes, his flirtatious smirk gone and replaced by a sheepish smile as his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck.
"Honestly, it's embarrassing and I'd rather not say," Jones tries.
"Suit yourself then," Emma says, turning back to her phone instead of prompting Killian to say more. It's a tactic Emma often uses with her potential bail-skip targets. Look uninterested and you are bound to get the guy to talk. And Jones takes the bait hook, line, and sinker.
"Okay, I am going to say this quick." Killian takes a deep sigh, then continues, "My mate was my ride, but he's a ponce and thought that leaving me here alone would force me to talk to you, which would end in me inviting you over to my place, and then result in me getting laid. Because according to Scarlet, I've been an ass since my last break-up, and he thinks that the 'hot blonde chick' from the other league would be a good way to get back 'in the game'" On his last words, Killian brings his hand up to make air quotes. He looks embarrassed, if the pink tips of his ears are anything to go by. And honestly, that isn't something you make up. Emma almost feels sorry for him, having to blurt all that out in the middle of a public YMCA, the older woman at the check-in desk eyeing him angrily.
"So you need a ride home, then?" Emma asks.
"That is what you got from my explanation?" Killian replies, surprise lacing his answer.
"That's what I'm choosing to take from it. I'm choosing to ignore the rest of it," Emma replies. "Though, you could tell your friend that if we had met at a bar, and not at the YMCA where we will see each other for games every week, I probably would have taken you up on that offer."
"Really?" Jones asks, and there's that eyebrow again. But it instantly falls, the flirty persona once again replaced by someone that Emma can't quite get a handle on. "I'm by the marina, about ten minutes from the North YMCA."
"The marina? I think I can do that," Emma says, not wanting to give away where she lives, though with all honesty she probably lives quite close to Killian too. The marina is one of the safest places in town to live, and is within the best school system of the city. "You'll just have to wait another ten minutes or so. That okay?"
"Of course, but may I ask why?" Killian asks, confusion lacing his voice. "More emails to pretend to answer, perhaps?"
"Ha, ha," Emma mock-laughs. "No, we just have to wait for- oof!" Emma is cut off, a puff of air coming out of her as something solid runs into her with a cry of "MOM!". If it wasn't for the wall, Emma most definitely would have fallen over. Thankfully she uses it to steady herself before placing her hands on Henry's shoulders
"Kid, slow down!" Emma says, moving one of her hands to brush through Henry's hair. "How was practice?"
"Mom, it was fantastic! We did a whole bunch of drills and did some races across the ice and we practiced shooting and I got a shot in the five-hole!" Henry's words come out quickly, the excitement oozing out of him.
"I take it that a shot in the five hole is a good thing?" Emma asks, her hands continuing their loving pattern of movement through Henry's sweat-filled hair.
"Yeah, Mom. It's a really good thing," Henry says, rolling his eyes and swatting his mom's hands away from his hair. He pauses, noticing the silent man standing next to his mom, and instantly goes to put himself in between the two. "Who are you?" Henry asks, a frown forming on his face.
"Oh, uh…" Emma pauses, looking between her boy and Killian. The latter looks lost, unsure what to do with the new situation. "This is Killian. Killian, Henry," Emma says, pointing between the two. "Killian plays in the dodgeball league, and he needs a ride home. Think that's okay?"
Henry doesn't say anything for a moment, sizing Killian up. Killian, for his part, seems to have regained his composure and gives a small smile. Henry pauses for a moment on Killian's prosthetic, the hook replaced with a more hand-looking piece. Then looks back up to his face.
"I suppose so," Henry says. "But can we get pizza on the way home too?"
"Nice try, kid. But there is a casserole that Mary Margaret made for us waiting in the fridge." Emma lets out a small laugh as Henry groans. And while she knows he will eat the casserole, and thank their friend later for making it, he probably won't be too happy about it. "Now go change and get your jacket, we are already delaying Killian long enough."
"Okay," Henry says, turning to head back to the locker rooms. "But think about the pizza, okay Mom?" he calls just before leaving the lobby.
Emma calls out another "Nice try kid!" before Henry is out of hearing distance, and shakes her head with a small laugh at her kid's antics. A growing boy in every way, Henry will do just about anything for pizza. She turns to her side, and sees Killian eyeing her silently.
Rolling her eyes, Emma crosses her arms over her chest and waits for the telltale sign of Killian's eyes dropping. Sure enough, his eyes go straight to her left hand and Emma lets out a smug grin at being able to read him so well. When he looks back up at her face, there is a silent question that Emma knows Killian is never going to voice.
With a sigh, Emma turns to face Killian head-on. "Okay, because I know you aren't going to ask, and you were super truthful before, I am just going to get this over with. I'm a single mom, his name is Henry, he just turned ten, and he is my whole world. Also the reason why we need to wait a few more minutes before heading off." Killian just looks at her, a mix of amusement and awe in his eyes. After a pause, Emma adds quickly, "And also the reason why I won't be able to help you out in the way your friend really wanted."
Killian remains silent, and Emma isn't quite sure what to do, so she just turns back to her phone to wait for Henry. It's always a toss-up how guys will react to her son – which is why Emma usually doesn't bring it up with any of her one-night stands. One guy she was contemplating introducing to Henry ended up running as soon as he found out. And then there was the Walsh fiasco a few years ago – Mary Margaret had set them up and he was aware of Henry before their first date. But he absolutely hated kids, had no idea how to get along with Henry, and for Henry's birthday purchased him a new drawer set (from his own store) instead of the video game Emma had told Walsh to buy. So now Emma only lets people know about Henry if they are friends, which means really just her dodgeball team know.
"So, the lad likes to play hockey, does he?" Killian finally says, pulling Emma out of her thoughts. "I mean, I would have gone with something that requires a bit more skill, like football, but to each their own I guess. And he's not following in Mom's footsteps with dodgeball then?"
Emma lets out a relieved laugh. This? This she can handle. "Hockey was the only thing at the YMCA for kids his age around the time of Dodgeball that Henry actually wanted to do. And besides, we call it soccer here."
"Touché, Swan." Killian retorts. Silence again rises between them, and Emma finds she doesn't mind it that much. She almost relaxes again into her phone as the two wait in companionable silence for Henry to come. Almost relaxes, because Killian's next comment completely throws her off center.
"Well, it is good to know you're a single mother, though." He draws out the word single, and Emma notices the way he draws his tongue over his teeth as he finishes the sentence. It is almost dirty, what he is doing with his tongue in such an open area, and Emma finds herself looking longer than she should. She could have stayed there forever, eyes jumping back between Killian's bright blue eyes and the pink of his tongue, if it wasn't for Henry calling from the front doors of the YMCA for them to leave.
"Right, well, let's go," Emma says, her eyes breaking contact with Killian and refusing to turn back. She puts on a big smile for Henry, walking towards him and pulling his large hockey bag out of his hands. Without even looking, she knows that Killian Jones is following behind her. And if Emma puts a little more swagger in her step, so sue her.
The drive home is fairly uneventful - Henry chatting happily about his first practice, mentioning how he is hoping to be on the starting line-up when pre-season games start in three weeks. He asks Killian a few questions too - where he lives (an apartment by the Marina with his brother), what he does (he has a boat and goes fishing, but also works at the Marina on other people's boats), and what happened to his hand. At the last question, Emma shushed Henry because it is not polite to ask people about their prosthetics. Thankfully Killian was pretty okay with the question, answering vaguely about an accident and then quickly commenting on how the hook makes him into more of a pirate captain. This intrigued Henry to no end, and somehow the two ended up discussing famous pirates in history for the rest of the car ride.
They won't be playing each other in the upcoming week, somehow the league delaying the two champion teams from battling until the third week of games, but before exiting the car Killian still gives Emma a wink and a promise to bring his A-game for when do finally play. And he gives Henry a promise to bring him out on his boat sometime - a promise that somehow ends up with Emma having Killian Jones' phone number programmed into her cell phone so that she can let him know when Henry is free. As she watches Killian walk into his building, her eyes wandering low on his body, Emma is surprised to hear Henry's voice from the back of the car.
"I like him - he was nice." Henry says. "Think he will actually take me out on his boat?"
"I don't know kid," Emma says, giving a small smile as Killian waves from inside the lobby of his building. She finds her face reddening, thinking about the man in question. But then, a resolve forms in her head. Emma is not at a point where dating can happen. She has Henry, and her job, and the craziness of Neal to deal with. She does not have time to date, and especially cannot date someone on the other team. Nope. Emma decides then and there, as she pulls her bug away from the apartment and towards where she and Henry live, that Killian Jones is nothing more than a friendly distraction, and will remain nothing more than a friendly distraction.
Unfortunately, Emma's resolve on the matter only lasts the night. As much as Emma wants to keep her mind out of the gutter, she finds that her thoughts continue to stray to Killian Jones at every free moment. Friday morning over breakfast Henry is eating Capt'n Crunch, and once again Emma thinks of the self-proclaimed pirate captain. She manages to forget about him for most of Friday, focusing instead on trying to catch a guy skipping out on his rent. But then she has fish for dinner at Granny's, and begins to wonder if Killian Jones may have been the one to catch it.
And somehow, on Friday night Emma finds herself with Henry sleeping in her lap, the last few minutes of a movie he had insisted on watching playing on the TV, and an outgoing text message to Killian Jones sitting in her phone.
It only takes Emma a minute to write out the message, but it takes her ten to finally click the send button.
"Hey - its Emma. Been trying to find a date when Henry can come out with you - he may not be free till early October. Is that okay?"
Okay, sure, so Emma took the Henry cop-out. But at least she is messaging him, right? Emma doesn't expect a response - it is almost ten o'clock on a Friday and obviously this guy has things he does with his life. But a little piece of Emma hopes that he is sitting at home doing nothing too - that he is able to reply. She tries to focus on the movie, to be able to tell Henry the ending in the morning, but Emma finds that she is more distracted checking her phone for a message.
Emma pauses the movie, and attempts to lift Henry up to get him into bed, if only to give herself five minutes away from her phone. Henry wakes up along the way, and Emma promises they can finish the movie over the weekend as she tucks him into bed. Though he is getting so much older, sometimes Emma relishes the nights when it is just the two of them and Henry lets her tuck him into bed and kiss his forehead like she used to when he was younger.
The thoughts of Henry growing up last Emma as long as it takes for her to walk back into the living room. As she enters, her phone sits with its little notification light blinking. The light is brighter than 100 stars, and Emma nearly trips over the couch in her haste to grab her phone off the table.
"October should be okay, though I do hope his mother is free to join as well. I'd hate for her to miss out on becoming a true pirate."
Emma smiles down at the phone, her stomach flip-flopping. She hasn't felt this way about a boy in… ever. Not since she stole a yellow VW bug that happened to already be stolen. And Killian isn't really a boy… he is definitely a man.
"I think you could find a way to swindle his mom into coming too, if you play your cards right," Emma types out in reply.
It only takes a moment for the text to show it is read, and another thirty seconds for Killian's reply to come.
"Do you think she'd want to grab coffee beforehand to plan out the event? Just so that I know what Henry would want to do, and all that."
Oh, this guy was smooth. Asking her out for coffee, and making it seem about Henry. He definitely knows what he is doing. Emma tries to think of a reply, tries to think of a way to turn him down because she cannot date right now. But all the butterflies in her stomach instead tell her to just go for it and forget her fears for once. Before Emma can reply though, another message comes through.
"And I promise this time I will not let Will Scarlet drive me, unless of course I can be guaranteed a ride home with Henry's lovely mother. "
Emma can feel her face flushing. Honestly, if Killian had been a guy in a bar, and didn't have a ride home, Emma probably would have driven him home and turned him into one of her one night stands. But he is instead the guy on the opposing dodgeball team, and the guy who was really sweet to her son even though he hardly knows them. And he is also the guy who is currently flirting hard with her over text message.
"I think you should take your own car there, Captain. Though I may be free Tuesday night for coffee during Henry's hockey practice." Emma sends out in reply.
"I suppose I've played my cards right then, Swan." Killian's message comes quicker than expected, and Emma smiles to herself.
"Meet you at the Y at 7:30," Emma replies. She sees that Killian has read the message, but doesn't see a reply coming anytime soon. Being a little adventurous, Emma sends out a "Sweet Dreams, Captain," before turning off her phone to avoid any other message-exchanges. Emma goes to bed with a smile, pirates and bright blue eyes filling her dreams.
Special thanks to everyone who helped make this work possible - My wonderful artist liamjcnes, my absolutely fantastic beta electrictoes, and everyone involved in the CSBB over at tumblr! I could not do it without these amazing people. Head over to my tumblr, iminwinnipegthatsincanada, to check out the art that goes with this work that liamjcnes made for me (or go to theirs, see the awesomeness, be amazed). And thanks for reading! New chapters posted every week :)