A/N: This is for the cs AU week on tumblr. Hope you all enjoy :)
"You cannot actually be serious?"
"Oh, for the love of god, get that gorgeous blonde head out of your ass for just one moment."
"Ruby!"
"Emma." Her friend - or, soon to be ex-friend - deadpanned. Red lips pulling into a sly grin, Ruby shrugged. "Honestly, give me one good reason why you shouldn't reply?"
"Just, because!"
There was simply no way Emma was going to justify her choices. Giving one final eye roll in an attempt to finalise the decision, Emma ignored Ruby's frustrated groans and pushed away from the coffee table with the pointedly obviously scrapping of the hair signalising an abrupt end to Ruby's scheme.
"Write back once, then. Only once, then you can decide afterwards. Please? Do it for an amazing friend with a Cupid complex?"
Apparently it wasn't the end, surprise, surprise.
Her long-time roommate and close friend, Ruby had what Emma liked to call a persisting personality. She was an excellent motivational speaker yet lacked a little modesty on the listening side of all things mature and delicate. It wasn't a total deliberate disregard for other's feelings, more so a disbelief that not everyone was eager to dip their toes into dating new guys every week. As soon as one guy was revealed to be a 'hot, arrogant douche', as Ruby so poetically announced to Emma on a regular basis, Ruby then wasted no time in waving goodbye to the past. Though Emma adored her friend, there were times - take, now - when she would've appreciated sugar-coating.
Still gingerly holding the dreaded letter in one hand, Emma began to slowly circle the rim of her coffee mug with the other. "Well, then. It's settled." She sat down again and smirked across at Ruby. "If you're Cupid, then I am staying the hell away from Olympus."
"Ha. History nerd."
"Mythology geek." Emma corrected with a wink.
"Really? Stop avoiding the issue!" Ruby cried, hand waving about as though in a 1980s, chaotic dance-off. "Look, I promise he's not a serial killer or a crazed single man with a love of bizarre and perverted kinks. Unless you're into that, in that case, I found your match!"
"Look, I'm just not ready to date again." Emma noted the icy drop in her tone, but still followed up with a snap, "Not yet, anyway. Can we just leave it as that and drop it? As in, right now?"
There was a moment's silence; the atmosphere suddenly becoming tense around her heated outburst. Expecting Ruby to surrender, or at least roll her eyes or leave, Emma was somewhat surprised when her roommate leaned across and reached out to clasp her loose hand gently with her own.
"Emma, it's been almost ten years." Ruby spoke softly now. "The asshole who broke your heart didn't deserve even half the time you've spent regretting him."
Her stomach clenched, knotting and twisted and violently gasping for air at the mere mention of him. Biting down on her lip, hard, Emma ignored the sickening sensation and looked down at their entwined hands instead.
"I've know you for more than four years now, you're one of my best friends. All I want is to see you happy."
Emma blinked. The conversation had taken a sudden detour into the land of emotion and a vividly painful past, and she was overwhelmed by Ruby's now-gentle encouragement. "I am happy." She mumbled in protest.
"You know what I mean."
"And you really believe writing back to a random hottie from..." Emma broke away to scan her eyes over Killian's letter to where his RSPV post-box address was written in clear, neat handwriting. "...Ireland is going to burn down that bridge?"
Ruby took a sip from her blue-striped china mug before responding with another shrug, "Maybe. Maybe not. There's only one way to see though, right? Besides, I know you want to write him back. I can tell."
"How?" Emma scoffed, ignoring the - whilst now pleasant - still startling tightening hovering inside her chest like tiny fireflies waiting for a flicker of hope. She'd never considered online dating in a million years, yet the idea of actual writing seemed...old-fashioned. And somewhat romantic. Either way, it intrigued Emma that someone like Killian Jones would have trouble finding dates in real life, having too resorted to pen-pals.
Ruby's eyes now glinted with mischief. "Well, you have been thumbing his picture for about ten minutes now."
Oh, hell.
xXx
Killian first received a responding letter from Emma on the 5th June; the exact following weekend he'd sent his own.
The early arrival of it pleasantly surprised him.
If he'd been intrigued by Emma Swan before, then now, after reading such a letter, he was more than ready to fly across the country and meet her as soon as possible.
It was as followed;
Dear, Jones,
Do people even write 'dear' anymore? It seems far too 'Pride and Prejudice' for my taste, but here goes. Besides, this is one of two sheets of calligraphy paper I own - a wasted birthday gift from long ago that finally I have found a use of - and I'll be damned if I have to start all over again.
I have to inform you that my rather intrusive friend and roommate, Ruby, forwarded my profile onto you. I was unaware that I even had an account so imagine my surprise when an Irish musician writes to me out of the blue! Yes, that's you, by the way, Jones. I don't have a line of handsome suitors waiting. Only you.
First of all, I really enjoyed reading about your music. Personally, I prefer Bon Jovi to Damien Rice, and The Killers to Johnny Cash, but a girl can appreciate a good acoustic guitarist every now and again. I tried searching you online, but couldn't find any performances of you, or your new band. That was a shame, I would've loved to hear you play. Perhaps some other time.
And yes, I do in fact have a couple of name suggestions, as you so kindly asked for;
1. Jones and the Pirates - okay, so not the most original, but I still think it'd look good on a tour poster.
2. The Four Olympians.
3. Anchors and Shipwrecks.
4. Hydra. (this one is the definition of 'Emma Swan should not be a band-name-maker')
By now, I'm assuming you sense the historical/mythological pattern. Sue me, I like stories and legends and myths of heroic battles and grand characters.
If you've reached the end of this - and I praise you for battling through the awfully slanted handwriting and bad humour - and don't want to set it on fire, I'd like to see what you have to say about the band ideas, and whatever else is going on in your life.
My life is fairly ordinary; decent job, annoying yet irreplaceable roommate, and a possible new friend (guess who?)
Correct, It just might be you, Jones.
If you could handle it, that is.
Sincerely, Swan.
P.S. Killian is a far too wonderful name not to use it for significant occasion; hence I shall call you 'Jones'.
P.P.S. Now I have convinced myself that you are a CIA agent until further corrected. I will be most disappointed otherwise.
Folding the letter carefully into two again, Killian attempted - and miserably failed - to conceal the unfurling grin widening across his face.
His lips pulled and twitched as he scanned over the letter again, enjoying Emma's dry tone and sense of realistic attitudes as though she was reading out the letter in his mind. Her final comical remarks made Killian chuckle, and this earned him an equally bemused look from his own nosy roommate, Victor.
"Something funny?"
"Only your puzzlement."
"Hm." Victor folded a newspaper into his lap and furrowed his brow. "Who's the letter from then?" He teased. "Do you have a mysteriously hot wife that I am currently unaware of?"
"Wife, no. Mysterious, yes. Hot?" Killian turned and flashed Emma's profile photograph in Victor's direction. "Think more Goddess of blonde, snarky and gorgeous."
He smirked when Victor's smile dropped into a perplexed thin line. His friend pushed up from the sofa and quickly walked over to where Killian sat at the table. Taking in everything; Killian's smug grin, the open letter and a pen-pal profile, Victor's expression cleared. Then it dipped back into confusion.
"Is this a dating site?"
"No. It's a pen-pal directory." Killian explained quickly. Online dating was something they had previously scoffed at. His stubborn pride enabled no further confession that pen pals had always fascinated him; connecting with random strangers across the globe in the hope of finding something you'd never known was lost before.
Victor raised an eyebrow in a teasing nature, and delighted glee practically dripped out of his tone, "So, dating."
"Bloody hell, Victor, no." He shook his head. "Trust me, that is no longer my intention." Killian sighed in frustration. "We're just friends."
It was difficult to explain.
He'd been longing for time to start up a profile for a while now, yet had been busy with the newely formed band and recent album deal they'd struck. Now seemed a perfectly good time to at least have a topic of conversation. Not that Killian wasn't well-rehearsed in conversing. He enjoyed film, literature and the occasional sport, but music was something held dearly above all. Above possible love, home and at times, life. Music was life. Killian found himself suddenly wanting to know what passions lingered in Emma's heart.
"You're telling me you wouldn't date Emma Swan? Whatever happened to 'Goddess of blonde, snarky and gorgeous', hm?"
Turning back to Victor, Killian shook his head, but a quick grin tugged at his lips. "That's not up to me, mate."
"Ever the gentleman."
"Aye."
"Don't suppose she has a super-hot roommate too?"
"She does have a roommate. Her name's Ruby."
"Hmm. Ruby." Victor grinned and wagged a thumb at his chest. "I trust you'll know what to say to your...Emma...next time you write. Put in a good word for me and I won't say another bad word about this...pen pal business of yours. Deal?"
"Fine. Now go, I'm drafting my response."
"Alright, alright. Good luck, wonder boy."
"Bugger off." Killian muttered good-naturedly, and waved a hand as Victor left with a cheery wave.
After refilling numerous cups of coffee, and an hour and a half later, Killian proudly held his second letter to Emma Swan in his shaking hands. (the quivers were from the caffeine, he swears)
Dearest, Emma,
I was delighted to receive a reply so soon. Whoever said that it's proper to wait at least two weeks before responding to a first date - or, letter - ought to be struck down by Zeus. (I hope you're proud, I researched into Greek mythology just for you, Swan)
Before we continue writing, I have to sadly inform you that I do not, in fact work for the CIA. Nor the FBI, either. If this disappoints you greatly, then I bid you farewell with a broken heart and possibly a new song or two - heartbreak does wonders for the muse, don't you think so?
Which brings me onto my next point. Our new band has quite literally only taken form, hence why you couldn't find any performances. I am not Neil Young or Bruce Springsteen, but merely a simple, Irish singer who gigs at local pubs and clubs. It's not brilliant pay, though it's manageable and allows me to do what I love - music. Am I right in assuming mythology to you, is music to myself?
I pitched your musical ideas to my roommate - and lead guitarist in the band - Victor, who considered them all for about 0.05 seconds. He's rather arrogant about accepting help, you see. Unlike myself, who leapt at 'Jones and the Pirates'.
I'm still holding onto hope that he'll come around soon.
'Anchors and Shipwrecks' sounds like a wonderful idea for a song title. I hope you don't mind if I borrow it?
Excellent.
I am most intrigued by your normal life. In fact, I assure you, I will find anything you write interesting and worth understanding.
Additionally, in regards to your naming of 'Jones', I think I shall take to calling you 'Swan'. Don't you think it creates an air of 'undercover agent scoping for danger'. I think it does.
Until next time, Jones.
P.S. Victor wishes to know if Ruby would consider him as a prospect. (I advice a polite rejection)
P.P.S Did you know Zeus had seven wives? Of course you knew. That's one more than Henry VIII. I'm shocked and appalled by such misogyny attitudes and shall write an entire song dedicated why Greek Gods ought to be de-throned from their pedestals.
P.P.P.S I am fairly certain Hades is a better man than Zeus.
Drop a review if you can x