A/N: So as those of you who read my other stories know, I truly have no time to be writing a new AU, BUT here we are. All I know is that a few mornings ago I saw a listing near me for a cooking class and inspiration struck. Expect my typical shenanigans, cuteness, meddling friends, and a fluffy ending. It will also be a much shorter fic than usual (probably 3 or 4 chapters total). I hope you guys enjoy and as always thanks for reading!
"So we're still on for tonight?" Ruby asked through the phone and Emma rolled her eyes knowing full well that her friend couldn't see. The fact that Ruby even bothered to ask was slightly ridiculous. Of course she was going. Emma never missed a girls night.
"Yes Ruby, we're still on. I just got home – give me ten minutes to change and then you can make your way over."
"Better make it twenty. The walk down those stairs is not so easily tackled in these heels."
Emma laughed at her friend's joke. They lived in the same apartment building and the walk was at maximum sixty seconds even in heels, but Ruby was always running late no matter how close the distance. Emma agreed to twenty minutes and hung up, setting out to get herself together before the night ahead.
Her first priority was shedding the unusually formal clothes she needed for work today. After nine hours in this suit, Emma was ready to throw it in the back of her closet and forget about it for at least a few more months. In all honesty, she'd be thrilled if she never had another reason to wear it. It felt too rigid and constraining even if it was perfectly tailored to fit her. People had been complimenting her all day but Emma didn't care. She didn't want the attention if she had to change herself to get it.
That wasn't to say that Emma didn't love her job as at the Little Journeyers Foundation because she did. Working at a nonprofit aimed at helping kids in the system have a better experience than she did was her own noble sort of crusade. On a typical day she got to work remotely, seeing the different group homes that they serviced all through the area. She actually got to be a force for change in the lives of these kids and when she did she always dressed casually. It was better for everyone if kids felt they could trust her, and she knew from experience that it was hard to trust adults in the system who were stuffy and aloof.
But today was not a typical day and in turn it had been a bit more trying than usual. Emma was called on to give a presentation and that meant staying out of the field where she preferred to be. It also meant that she'd been the picture of professionalism for the chairs of the charity. In the end she delivered exactly what they wanted and they responded with good outlooks on funding for her programs, but only now could Emma let her hair down a little both literally and metaphorically. She could wear jeans again and take out this headache-inducing bun and that in itself was the best kind of reward for a day like this.
Well that and going out with her friends of course. Emma didn't anticipate anything crazy on the docket for the evening, just dinner and drinks since it was technically a weeknight, but that was fine with her. After the hoops she'd jumped through in the office today, all she wanted was a bottle of wine, a bowl of pasta, and blissfully work-free conversation.
The good news was her friends never disappointed in delivering that. Ruby Lucas, Mary Margaret Blanchard, and Belle French were Emma's favorite people for so many reasons, but one of them was that no matter what her friends were on her side. Where Emma often felt misunderstood during darker times in her past, that same judgment never came from her chosen family. Instead they embraced Emma for all she was even if she was slightly guarded, a tiny bit cynical, and – okay, yes – totally doubtful that there was always a silver lining in every story.
Emma just wasn't willing to ignore reality: sometimes bad things happened to good people because they let shitty people in, and while Emma hoped none of her friends ever had to learn that the hard way, it was a lesson she would always hold close. Trusting people was a risk that nine times out of ten didn't work out in Emma's experience so now she kept her reliance on others to a minimum. It kept her strong and fortified her armor so that she wasn't liable to get hurt again. If it also closed her off a bit so be it. It was a good trade in Emma's mind to protect herself (and her friends) in exchange for the same happy-go-lucky mentality other less-jaded people seemed to have in spades.
When a knock sounded at the door in a familiar four-beat rhythm, Emma looked up at the clock and saw that twenty-two minutes had already come and gone. She'd been so lost in thought and getting ready that the time had flown, but when she opened the door to see her friend Ruby leaning against the jam she knew couldn't help but laugh.
"I swear Emma, you are such a doddler. What are we going to do with you?" Emma shook her head as she grabbed her red leather jacket and purse and locked up her door behind her.
"What can I say, Ruby? You're a real saint for sticking with me." Ruby scoffed.
"Bite your tongue."
Emma chuckled again at her friend's denial and found that Belle and Mary Margaret were already waiting downstairs in the lobby. Their destination was only a block away so they had all met here to walk together. It would likely be one of the last weekends where that was a possibility too because the mild cool of autumn was already starting to shift to the not so subtle nip of the winter months ahead. One would have thought it was mid February and below freezing though when faced with Emma's friend Belle.
"Is that a hand muff? Belle it's October." Belle looked down at the garment and then back to Emma with a glance that said she was fully aware of the month and didn't see Emma's point.
"That's what I said!" Mary Margaret replied readily and Belle mumbled about needing to move to a warmer climate but they all knew she was full of it. Belle loved her friends, this city, and her job at the Boston Public Library way too much to ever leave. So she'd grapple with the cold like she did every year, and they would tease her a little for it.
"Not that I'm not loving this – and Belle I have roughly ten jokes about that outfit ready to go – but we will be late if we don't get moving." Belle and Mary Margaret immediately nodded, and only then did Emma realize that she wasn't actually in on the plan. Everyone else was so eager to get there. Was it possible they were doing something different than the norm?
"Where did you say we were going again?" Emma asked Ruby and her friend shrugged.
"I didn't."
Okay that definitely peaked Emma's curiosity. They weren't even going to tell her where they were going? She'd just had her birthday so it couldn't be that, and there were no other big things going on in her life. The presentation today was important but not epic by any means. Which meant that this was probably a sign of her friends' problematic scheming and not thoughtfulness. Emma was about to interrogate them on that further when she looked up and saw where they had stopped.
The sleek bluestone façade of the building before them, and the intriguing but still soft lighting inside, called to Emma immediately. It was clearly a restaurant, and a nice one at that even if it looked mostly empty, but it wasn't until Emma saw the stenciled script on the door that she realized exactly which restaurant it was.
"Wow – Arendelle?! This is one of the hottest new places in the city. How did you guys score a reservation?"
Emma had read all about this place online. Apparently they had this crazy delicious menu, which included an abundance of pasta. Since she'd been daydreaming about carbs all day she couldn't picture a more perfect place. Suddenly Emma's dread about the chosen venue was gone only to rear its head again in the face of the silence her question was greeted with.
When none of her friends immediately replied Emma realized something was still off and then she saw the sign in the doorway. The restaurant was closed tonight, but next to the sign was a single flyer reading 'Single Ladies Cooking Class' in a cursive script.
"Oh hell no! You've got to be kidding me… you guys are kidding right?"
Emma's first instinct was to laugh in the face of such an agenda, but the longer they stood there the more apparent it became that this was the evening's actual plan. That was not good at all, especially since the entire idea of spending a night discussing their singledom and learning how to cook meals for one was so entirely outside of what Emma would like to be doing with her time.
Plus, Emma didn't really like most people (aside from her friends who in this moment were also questionable) and she especially didn't like women who were always on the hunt for men. Those were exactly the kinds of people that events like this attracted and Emma could just imagine what their conversations would look like. She'd have to spend an evening listening to people yammer on about how there was a Prince Charming out there for everyone and how all you had to do was stop looking for him to find you.
Now usually, Emma prided herself on keeping her cool. She had a killer poker face and a tolerability level for stupid that couldn't be matched. That was something that came naturally to an ex-foster kid who'd been moved around as often as she had. But since this was supposed to be a carefree night, and a singles event would be so ridiculously fraught with elements she hated, Emma had to wonder if she could handle this. What if she walked in there, heard someone bemoaning how there weren't enough 'happily ever afters' to go around and she lost it?
Emma could just picture that news segment and how it would sound if she did succumb to the madness of the evening:
'Breaking news at the top of the hour: an incident in the downtown area is causing massive concerns and has traffic at a near standstill. An unidentified blonde woman appeared to go ballistic, causing untold damage to the surrounding area and scaring her friends half to death. One of the three women was later hospitalized due to shock. We're told that the trigger for all of this was a Single Ladies Cooking Class.'
Emma shook away the fantasy of how she'd get her fifteen minutes of infamy and looked back to her friends. Maybe she'd get lucky and all of this would be some sort of joke, but if it was her friends needed serious coaching on the art of delivering the punch line.
"Oh come on, Emma. It's not that bad. Yes, technically we have to cook the food, but there's wine and most importantly your best friends."
Mary Margaret was completely unaware of how little enticement that held for Emma. They could do a million things as friends that were less sad and uncomfortable than this. Surely they could see that. Emma muttered under her breath something about their status as her best friend's being debatable as Ruby laughed.
"What was that, Ems?"
"I said this is ridiculous and I am seriously contemplating why I am friends with any of you."
"Emma it's not that bad. It's going to be fun, trust us." Belle's sincerity struck Emma for a moment before she realized the worst part of all of this.
"Trust you? You guys straight up lied to me about what we were doing tonight. This is not a 'casual girls night.'" At least Belle and Mary Margaret had the decency to look guilty. Ruby meanwhile was grinning away like the Cheshire cat. No doubt her friend found this to be completely hilarious. Damn Ruby and her need to mess with people.
"Well technically it is a girl's night, and it's definitely casual. No mention of a dress code anywhere." Emma thought back to the conversation they'd all had and realized that was true, but still it a was a lie of omission which was pretty damn bad.
"I just don't get why you would want to go at all. What am I missing?"
"You remember my friend Anna who I work with at school?" Mary Margaret asked and Emma nodded. "Well this is her sister's restaurant and Anna let me in on a little secret – the chef running this is a total babe. I believe her exact words were 'ten out of ten would recommend.'"
"We're here for a guy." Emma didn't even bother making it sound like a question. Now she saw the truth and she was even less impressed.
"No we're here to make pasta from scratch. There just happens to be eye candy as well." Emma didn't even know how to respond to this.
"I don't think-," before Emma could finish her refusal Ruby interrupted.
"Emma you're going. If it's terrible we'll leave early but we're already here. You can even complain about it for years to come if it's that bad and no one will blame you. Right guys?" The others nodded and Emma knew she was being unnecessarily prickly. She could handle this, and even if she didn't like it, her friends were clearly excited. She should just stop being a downer and let them have this.
"Fine, but I swear to god if anyone so much as mentions the Beyoncé song I am leaving."
"No one would blame you for that. If anything we'd be right there with you." Emma smiled at Ruby's assurances and the friends walked through the doorway together.
Mary Margaret was the one to check them all in with her usual chipper and friendly attitude, and the host mentioned Anna sparking more conversation, but Emma tuned out instead choosing to look around inside. Even if she was here under near duress, Emma had to admit it was gorgeous and that same sense of awe stayed with her when they were led from the front of the house to the kitchen.
"Wow this place is huge. Do all restaurant kitchens look like this?" Mary Margaret asked aloud.
"Granny's definitely doesn't look like this. Those grilled cheeses are cramped as hell when they get made."
The friends all laughed at that and when they were served their wine Emma felt herself relaxing into this a bit. Yes there were other groups of women here and a few individual people who she might avoid in other circumstances, but there were no weird ice breakers or forced bonding moments according to their host so she could deal at least for now. There was, however, one woman's voice that rang out just a touch too shrill and that carried over everyone else's. Emma hadn't caught her name but she was clearly a princess who thought herself above the others.
"I heard they had to get a substitute instructor. The usual morsel on the menu is getting married. Can you believe that? I thought we had meant more to him." The woman's band of sycophants replied with awe as Emma's friends blanched.
"Please tell me we did not sound like that," Belle said and Emma smiled.
"You're in the clear. To you guys it was fun, to her it's hunting season." All of Emma's friends barked out a laugh, causing the woman in question to turn their way. Emma just maintained her stare until the woman huffed and turned back to her group.
Emma's friends continued to talk about the strange dynamics of the group and marvel at the kitchen itself but Emma found her attention shifting. One minute she was engaged and the next she felt a subtle hum of excitement. It was that feeling of anticipation that came in moments when you knew something was going to happen, and Emma just couldn't tell what it was.
She looked around the room again and trained her attention on things outside her own little circle before she finally pinpointed the source of her feelings. Towards the back of the room Emma heard a voice that sounded out above the rest. The most noticeable thing about it in this room filled with women was its masculine richness, but there was more to it than that. The accent and the slight gravel in his words made Emma wonder immediately what this guy looked like.
All she could see was a black leather jacket, but that was enough to make him more intriguing. For a second Emma waited for him to turn so she could get a better look but then the nagging voice in the back of her head made itself apparent.
He's trouble, Emma. Foreign guys in leather jackets always are.
At least she assumed they were. Emma didn't actually know any now that she thought about it, but the reaction this man was sparking was dangerous. It was best to ignore it and hope that he was just some guy who worked here on his way home. She looked back down at the metal table where they were stationed and took another sip of her wine.
"Holy crap! Is that the instructor?" Belle whispered a few moments later, clearly impressed.
"Oh my gosh, he's cute!" Mary Margaret's volume was barely checked but Emma still didn't look up. She was not feeding into this wine-induced infatuation. Nope not Emma - not today, not ever. Ruby threw in her two cents as well lest anyone doubt what her opinion was.
"I think the word you are looking for is hot. With a capital H – O – T."
"What do you think Emma?"
Emma could feel all of her friends staring at her but her eyes remained downcast to the countertop. Finally she glanced up and her heart skipped a beat almost painfully when she did. Emma stood there spellbound by the sight of the best looking guy she'd ever seen.
With dark hair, the shadow of a beard on a well defined jaw, and bluer than blue eyes that were now looking right at her as if they could see past her walls, this guy made Emma's whole body go on immediate alert. She was overwhelmed with sensation but the man remained the focal point. He was… well Emma didn't know what he was. All she knew was she felt like she was on fire and freezing all at one. Her skin was tingling just from his look and her mind wasn't able to find words to give her friends. She was speechless and there had never been a moment in her life when she couldn't keep her poker face and maintain some semblance of control.
He was still looking at her, and Emma didn't know how much time had passed. It could have been seconds or years but all she knew was that she didn't hate it. There was something more than just appreciation in his glance, something that looked a lot like recognition and then it hit her that even in his foreignness he felt familiar. She offered him a small smile, hoping she might cut through some of the intensity, but his responding look only set her off more. Then when he finally tore his glance away she felt like she missed him. It was crazy and strange and completely and utterly unwarranted. She did not know this guy, so why was she responding like this?
"And I think that right there say's it all." Ruby's words of assessment echoed in her ears but her eyes stayed to the front of the room and on their instructor. She didn't even know if she could look away. It felt like she was caught and unable to pull away.
Fuck Me, Emma thought and then she admitted her first instincts were right: this guy was trouble. The only thing was, she didn't feel like running in the face of it. No, for once in her life Emma Swan wanted to do something she never did – she wanted to stay and see if maybe there might be something here.
….
"No, no way! There's not a bloody chance in hell that I'm doing that, so get the thought of your head right now."
Killian stared at his brother from across the office in Arendelle still reeling from his brother's fool hearty proposition. It was an utterly preposterous notion that Liam was clinging to and Killian was determined to make him see that.
"Killian I realize it's a lot to ask, but when Robin left to get married on a whim, we'd already had this planned. We can't just cancel. Think of what it would mean for the restaurant."
Killian tried to steady himself. He didn't actually want to yell at his brother but if the man weren't so stubborn he wouldn't have to. As it was, Liam was the picture of calm serenity right now standing behind his desk. He appeared to think that it was a given that Killian would comply when it was absolutely not.
"Liam, I made it very clear at the start of this that if I stepped in there were rules. What was the first and only rule that I set forth?" His brother had the audacity to smile when he replied.
"No customer interaction – but technically this isn't the same thing."
"You're right. It's a thousand times worse. A cooking class means I have to hand hold a bunch of people through the difference between a dice and a chop all while struggling to pretend I give a shit about how it all turns out."
"Women." Liam's reply was perplexing to say the least.
"Excuse me?"
"It's a class of all women. Single women." Killian groaned aloud at that.
"Are you daft?! There is no way I am doing this. Settle it with them yourself. Or better yet, why don't you lead the bloody class?"
"We both know I couldn't boil water to save my life. No I might have the charm and the business savvy, but you Killian are the chef. You inherited all of Mum's ability and took it so much further. You have that Michelin star to prove it, the one she only could have dreamed of."
It was a low blow for his brother to bring up their mother now, but despite the underhanded nature of his argument, Killian would not be swayed. Besides, mentioning Killian's accomplishments wasn't actually making Liam's point. Someone as established as Killian didn't teach classes on the fly. Hell they didn't teach at all other than in their own kitchens.
Just as Killian was about to say all of that though, Liam's wife Elsa walked into the back office waddling a bit thanks to the prominent belly she was sporting in her eighth month of pregnancy. Elsa and Liam had started this restaurant together the two of them a few years back after meeting at an event honoring Killian and usually it was Elsa who ran the kitchen, but the stress of all the work was too much for her in the later months of her pregnancy and so her second in command was promoted.
There was only one problem – the man had gone and fallen in love and begged for a week away to elope with the woman of his dreams. Being the softhearted romantic that she was, Elsa agreed to give him the time off which left them without a proper chef until Killian had been called and convinced to step in. He'd flown back from London to Boston to lend them a hand even though he'd been claiming that he couldn't until the very last second before he stepped on the plane.
The thing was, Killian always found it incredibly hard to say no to Elsa. They'd been friends for a while before she met Liam, colleagues in a competitive but close-knit community. He was happy to have her as a member of his family but now that she was carrying his niece or nephew it was even worse. He had a million things to work on – like finding another restaurant or finally writing that book his agent was on him about, but instead he was here holding down the fort for his family.
Though Elsa looked tired, there was a pleasing smile on her face aimed at Killian and in an instant he knew that whatever arguments he'd been making were done for. He might be a loner by nature and uninterested in preserving people's feelings, but he couldn't show callous disregard for his brother's wife. No, he respected Elsa too much for that and she had done too much for him when they were coming up through the ranks together for him to turn his back on her.
"Oh Killian, you are here! I was so worried that you wouldn't be able to help tonight, but Liam insisted that you would. I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you."
He replied to her smile in kind, cracking a joke that the middle name of one of her future children should suffice and Elsa laughed, claiming that was already a given. She then proceeded to break down her ideas on the evening. It was all laid out for him, the recipes, the music and so on. All he had to do was lead them for a couple of hours and make small talk for a while.
"I know it sounds horrible and cheesy but it won't be. Anna and I worked it all out and have it down to a science. But I am sorry because…" Elsa trailed off mid statement.
"Because what?" Killian asked. Liam was the one to step in.
"Because it's going to be a dozen tipsy women, some of whom will hit on you. Right, love?" Elsa nodded and looked a little contrite.
"It's all right. Well I mean it's not, but I'll manage."
Elsa looked a little relieved at his reply and Killian refrained from saying that the 'attentions' would never make a difference anyway. He was fine with his life the way it was. He preferred his freedom and his ability to make his own choices without keeping others in mind and it had been many years since he'd met a woman who tempted him to consider another way of living. He'd learned from those past mistakes and now stuck to what was comfortable – going it alone.
"So will you two be going home then?" Killian asked and Elsa shook her head as Liam nodded. This sparked a bit of disagreement between them, which Killian couldn't help but smile at.
"We can't just leave him alone, Liam. What if he needs back up?" Liam looked to Killian with a face that said he better be man enough to handle this alone and Killian simply raised his hands in silent defense.
"He's a big boy, he can handle himself. Can't you Killy?"
Killian grumbled at the use of his childhood nickname but replied that he could. Elsa remained unconvinced until a final hushed whisper from her husband made his sister-in-law go slightly pink. With limited goodbyes then Liam and his wife were off leaving Killian to the night ahead. He ran his hand over his face to try and wipe away the lingering frustration and then set out to face the music. Everyone was waiting in the kitchen and he reasoned that the sooner he walked in there, the sooner this could all be over.
The second the door to the kitchen opened he was greeted with a chorus of gossiping voices and happy chatter. Killian could feel his jaw tick at the sound because he personally preferred a quiet kitchen, but this wasn't about him. It was about helping his family and easing the burden on their shoulders. Quickly he put his jacket away in the small station he'd commandeered at the start of this substitution and then he moved to the front of the space and to his presumed teaching section.
He could hear the hush that came over the room as he did and then the giddy whispers that followed and he swore it was like being in high school again. But instead of receding to his usual sullen ways, Killian caught a flash of blonde hair in the corner of his eye and tracked it to the woman it belonged to.
Bloody hell she's gorgeous!
Killian fought hard to keep his jaw from dropping in the face of this woman, but he couldn't help the stare. Gorgeous wasn't the right word, and neither was beautiful, stunning, or breathtaking. This woman was in a class all her own and she was looking at him with wide green eyes that seemed as thick with swirling emotion as his gut felt now.
His hands started shaking slightly, his heart was hammering hard as could be, and for the first time in possibly his whole damn life Killian understood what people meant when they mentioned butterflies. He couldn't understand why the call to this woman was so strong. All he knew was that when her lips twitched into a small smile he felt like the sun had come out for the first time in years.
Someone cleared their throat from across the room and only then did Killian realize he'd been making an arse of himself staring like some sort of creep. He collected himself and pulled his eyes from the mysteriously transfixing woman and looked around the rest of the group.
"Right then. My name is Killian Jones and I'll be your instructor this evening. Full disclosure I've been thrown into the deep end here and up until twenty minutes ago I didn't realize this was the evening I had before me."
The group of women surrounding the blonde started laughing at that and glancing her way but all the while this woman of intrigue stayed calm. She didn't bother responding, only kept her eyes trained on him. It made continuing his introduction slightly difficult since the one coherent thought going through his mind was that he wanted her. Still he soldiered on, hoping not to make a fool of himself as he did.
He outlined to the twelve women in the room that tonight's menu was relatively straightforward: seasonal bruschetta for a starter, parmesan chicken pappardelle for the meal, and chocolate soufflé for dessert. It was an undertaking of course, and Killian was smart enough to realize that true novices would struggle, but the untold truth was that the kitchen staff had prepared enough of everything for him to keep an eye on. No one would go hungry tonight, even if they were downright terrible.
With the brief introduction set aside, Killian got to work immediately talking them through different points. He could make any of these dishes in his sleep to be sure, and yet he still found himself triple checking the recipes. There was just something about this woman in the back that fascinated him and she was slowly sucking every bit of attention he had her way.
When he discovered that her name was Emma from shameless eavesdropping he found himself saying her name over and over in his mind, holding the feeling of lightness it brought close as he did. Still he wanted more. There was so much more to Emma than her name and he hadn't the chance to study her as he might like or ask her the questions that were plaguing his mind.
There finally came a moment though after they'd made their appetizer course where Killian could move around a bit more freely. He started with quick and general inquiries with the other groups first and found that though many of the women were nothing but polite and interested in the cooking, there were some that left much to be desired.
Like one woman named Zelena (what kind of name was that by the way?) who insisted that she'd studied abroad in Italy and learned everything there was to know only to completely ruin her bruschetta. The woman also didn't seem to like the fact that Killian wanted distance and she attempted to flirt with him only for him to ignore it. From the way her whole face went red he imagined that was an insult of the highest caliber to her.
When he finally did escape her, there was profound relief for a second and then the same pulsing need and anxiety as he made his way to Emma and her friends. He tried to get a grip on his control, but he was honestly lucky to get any words out at all.
"Everything going all right over here?" All four women glanced up to him, but he'd purposely approached from this angle so Emma was the closest to him.
"I don't know sailor, why don't you tell us?"
Killian didn't know what to make of the tall brunette's words, but he was saved from responding by Emma. Hearing her voice this close and the slight gravel that it held made his whole body heat instantly. He wanted to hear her say his name and to know what it sounded like when she was consumed with lust the way he was.
"Ignore her. Suddenly everyone's a 'sailor' or a 'soldier' to Ruby when she's had wine. There's no rhyme or reason to it." Killian chuckled at the words and turned back to Ruby.
"Is that right?" Ruby shrugged and then grinned at him and Emma.
"Maybe. I like to keep it interesting. Like with this recipe. You want me to believe I can make pasta with just flour, eggs, and olive oil but I don't buy it. So I'm adding in extras." Killian bit back a groan as the other women laughed and added that they were doing the same. The only one not choosing the life of mystery mix-ins was Emma who leaned slightly closer to him filling his space with the scent of cinnamon and a touch of vanilla.
"I'm making extra so they don't have to eat whatever it is they end up with. If you actually look at Belle's I'm pretty sure she's got shell in there and Mary Margaret didn't separate the eggs at all." Killian smiled again and tried to find a means to learn more about her, like her last name for starters.
"So I have everyone else's names aside from yours, miss…"
"Emma!" All of her friends nearly yelled Emma's name aloud pulling an eye roll from Emma, which somehow only endeared him to her more. When she looked back at him she gave her own reply.
"Emma Swan." He was very close to making a comment on the fitting surname, but Killian didn't want to risk ruining this moment with his own sorry lack in game. Instead he looked down to the perfect strips she'd managed to create for her pappardelle.
"Your form is excellent. I take it you've made pasta before, love."
Her green eyes flashed at the endearment and Killian found himself thinking that he used the word so lightly in his daily life. It was a simple term of endearment, but with Emma he suddenly felt like it meant so much more. What the hell was happening to him?
"Actually no but the recipe is pretty straight forward. Just eggs and oil and then one part all-purpose flour and one part semolina; I was just surprised it's so evenly split."
"They compliment each other well, love, as I'm sure you'll see."
"Oh I bet she'll see," Mary Margaret murmured under her breath and Killian nearly laughed aloud when Emma glared at her friend. It was funny to see her getting riled up, because Killian Jones felt he knew Emma already. She was very like him if his instincts were correct, and it took a substantial amount of pressure for him to crack.
"Did you just say salmonella?" Now it was Killian's turn to nearly glare, but before he left the station to assure Zelena that she'd misunderstood he watched Emma's genuine smile reappear.
"You should probably deal with that before we have full blown chaos. People hear food born illness and they lose their minds." He chuckled lightly.
"Aye. Keep the ship afloat while I'm gone, Swan?"
Emma's smile grew and she nodded. As Killian moved away he heard Ruby reiterate her claims on his being a sailor. Why else, she argued, would he make the reference to a ship? Killian laughed again finding that he liked Emma's friends, especially since they seemed prone to pushing Emma in his direction.
Unfortunately there wasn't much more time to have such moments with Emma, but Killian would be lying if he tried to pretend that he hadn't been completely aware of her all night. She was a constant through every turn of events and his eyes wandered to hers more times than he could count. More often than not she caught him staring and he knew he should feel some sort of shame for that, but he couldn't, not when her smiles or her subtle blush pulled so much from him.
By the time they'd reached dessert, Killian was inches away from saying screw the whole damn thing and the promise he'd made Liam and Elsa. Emma remained just as steadfast and capable as she had all night, but there were moments he swore she must be messing with him. He watched her savoring the chocolate of her soufflé and heard her hum of approval more than once when he was near. It was maddening and resisting his instinct to pull her close and taste the chocolate from her lips was a feat of strength Killian couldn't recall ever facing before.
Somehow he managed though and through the grace of God the class ended. There was only one problem – Killian got so caught up by others saying goodbye and praising the event that he missed Emma and her friends. A sinking feeling came when he realized she was gone and all that was left was the scarf she'd left behind. It was white as snow and soft to the touch, and Killian wondered if it might not be a way for him to find her again. As he was trying to piece together a plan on finding her, Emma appeared back in the doorway.
"Swan, I thought you'd left." She smiled moving forward until she was just inches away and her hands came to clutch the scarf.
"Not quite." She must have seen the confusion in his eyes so she filled him in. "I just didn't think we needed my friends present for this next part."
"Next part?" Killian could hear the hoarseness in his voice and watched as Emma took another step closer.
"Was I wrong in thinking you were going to ask me for my number?" Killian shook his head.
"Not at all." Another moment passed and the heat clinging to both of them was undeniable. There was a raw crackle of need between them both and Killian was sure she felt it too but then she smiled again, throwing him for a loop.
"So…?"
Killian realized he still hadn't asked and then fumbled around a bit to find some paper and a pen. Emma took it from him with a smirk and moved somehow closer to him even as she moved towards the table to write it down. Then she folded up the piece of paper and handed it back to him. Their fingers touched and he felt a spark when they did. Killian could see her desire written all over her face telling him that she'd experienced it too. Without any more words they moved towards each other, a second away from a kiss, so close to heaven itself –
"Emma, I know you did not get lost in there! Unless she fell into that giant pasta pot… You don't think that happened, do you?"
"No Mary Margaret, Emma's not in the pasta pot. Seriously, sometimes you sound like your third graders. I mean who would think that?"
"I don't know stranger things have happened."
Bloody hell, her friends were just outside keeping Killian from a kiss he knew would surpass all others. Though he liked them at first, he couldn't help but resent the interference even if it was on the funnier side of the spectrum. He had all sorts of ideas about how he'd like to kiss Emma and then maneuver it to more but it couldn't happen, at least not yet. Emma looked torn between laughing and yelling back at them but in the end she just sighed and looked back up at him.
"To be continued?"
He heard the tautness in her tone and smiled, knowing that even if he was dying for the kiss she was feeling just as denied in this moment. He instinctively pushed a strand of her golden hair back around her ear and watched as her eyes darkened when his fingertips grazed her ear.
"Most definitely, love." It took a moment still for her to move away but when she did, Killian felt like part of him was retreating with her.
"Goodnight, Killian."
"Goodnight, Emma."
She turned and headed out the door, leaving him alone in the kitchen with the undeniable feeling that everything was changed. And weirdly enough that didn't bother him. His big plans and old desire to go it alone were long forgotten and all that remained was Emma Swan.
Post-Note: So yeah, I went there with this new AU, and by 'there' I of course mean on the express train to fluff town. Seriously I have no other way to describe it but whatever way you want to sum it up, there's more cuteness, a little smut, and a sappy HEA coming for my two jaded (but now pining) CS cuties. Also shout out to whoever put that flyer up near me the other day. You know not the effect you have had on my week but it has been a great one. Thanks so much for reading and let me know what you all think!