She can't move. She's afraid if she does, it will attack. Even breathing feels like too much activity and she holds her breath, cursing herself for not having anything that can help her in this situation. No shoes, no cup, no random magazine, no backbone. She may be the most bad-ass bail bondsperson in Boston, but that means nothing in the face of the 8 legged monstrosity that has staked its claim on her bathtub. It's not even in the bottom, where she can turn on the water and wash it down the drain, not sure if it would fit through anyway, as it is the size of her head. Really, it is. No, it's perched on the goddamn faucet, staring her down like the coward she is.
Realizing she is getting nowhere in her current state, wrapped in her bathrobe, her long blonde hair tied in a knot on top of her head, she begins to slowly back her way into her hallway. By the time her back hits the wall that leads to her front door, she knows who she needs. David. It wouldn't be the first time he has rescued her in a situation like this, but she damn well hopes it will be the last. Opening her front door, she peeks into the hallway to make sure no one is there before sprinting across the hall to David's door. Using her fist, she pounds as hard as she can, knowing that he likes to play that stupid medieval knight themed video game at full volume with his headphones on. Hearing no movement behind the door in response to her banging she begins to worry that he may actually not be home after all.
Panic. Her back finds his door as she slumps backwards, sending out a silent, half-hearted, curse towards his girlfriend Mary Margaret who undoubtedly has taken her savior from her this night. To make matters worse, she now has to go back inside of her apartment, not knowing where the damn thing is now, if it has moved from its perch or if it is hiding just inside her doorway, waiting to pounce. Banging her head a few more times against the door in frustration, she attempts to muscle up the courage to face her fear. Just as she is straightening to push herself from the doorway, she hears the squeaky hinges of the door at the end of the hallway.
Of course, it would be him who would be the one to witness this embarrassment. Clutching her bathrobe tighter, she sneaks a glance towards his door, spotting the mess of dark hair as he leans into view, a curiously amused expression evident even from the distance between them.
"Lass, is everything alright?"
Closing her eyes for a brief second, she allows her options to flash behind her closed lids. Option one, nod that she is fine and go back to her apartment (which isn't really an option) or two, turn to the molten hot neighbor she has been lusting for from afar and beg him to help her. Opening her eyes, shoving her pride far out of sight, she knows what she has to do.
Apparently, he had grown concerned at her lack of response, as he is much closer to her now than she expected him to be, turning to find him just a few feet away, shirtless (god dammit), his pajama pants hanging low enough that she knows what her dreams will be filled with tonight (as if he hasn't taken up residence there for months anyway). His left hand is scratching absentmindedly behind his ear, causing the muscles of his abdomen to flex sinfully, the clearing of his throat the only thing capable of drawing her eyes upwards.
Not that this view is any less distracting mind you, as the man's eyes should come with a damn warning label. Having him this close to her she can see that there are gold flecks hidden in the brilliant blue, his perfect eyebrows now quirking at her, the look on his face one of bewilderment and perhaps, attraction.
Realizing he probably thinks she is mute at this point, considering that they have never spoken to date, nods and sneaking glances the most contact they've had until now, she knows she needs to say something.
"Uh, hi." Well, at least that was something.
"Hello, love."
The sound of his accented voice curling from his tongue causes a slight quiver between her thighs, her hands wrapping her robe tighter instinctively, feeling suddenly as if he can see right through her to the nakedness beneath.
"The banging on David's door sounded pretty panicked, so I thought I would check to see if you needed some help. I passed him on the stairs earlier as he was heading out with an overnight bag, so I don't expect you will see him again this evening."
"I had a feeling. Sorry I was so loud, I just…needed David. He usually helps me when, well, dammit…"
Looking him in the eye, she tries to shake off her approaching panic attack, deciding that she is just going to have to own up and beg this beautiful stranger for his assistance.
"Are you afraid of spiders?"
"Sorry, lass?"
"Spiders. Can you handle them? Cause I can't. And the biggest goddamn spider on planet Earth is inside my apartment right now and I can't go back in there until its dead."
He is laughing at her. If she wasn't so annoyed she would admit that the deep timbre of his chuckle is just another thing she can add to the list of things that make him the sexiest man she has ever seen, but right now, she needs him to stop laughing and help her.
"Go ahead, laugh. I can take it, as long as when you are done with your amusement you will go in there and kill that thing for me? Please?"
He reaches out, his hand wrapping tentatively around her elbow, giving her a light squeeze as he steps a bit closer to her.
'Of course, where is it?
"Bathtub. I don't have anything to give you to kill it, sorry."
Watching, she sees him lean down, the muscles of his back rippling as he removes one of his flip flops before straightening and holding up in front of his face.
"I'll be your savior, lass."
He gives her a wide smile, bowing slightly at the waist before turning to her door, disappearing inside like a knight in plaid pajama pants.
While he is out of sight she wracks her brain, hoping she has put her bra and underwear in the hamper and not on the floor of her bedroom, which he would be walking through to get to her en suite. Thankfully, she had cleaned her bathroom this weekend, removing any lingering fears of hair in the drain or toothpaste clumps on her sink.
After what feels like forever, she begins to wonder exactly what she was thinking asking a complete stranger to go inside her apartment alone, now worrying that this beautiful man was in fact a creeper, currently sniffing her panties and rifling through her drawers. It doesn't take this long to kill a damn spider. Just as she is reaching for door it swings open, her flip flopped armed neighbor looking a bit frazzled and apologetic as he walks back into the hallway.
"What happened?"
"Um, well…I saw the creature and almost got it, but….it got away. I'm afraid it was a bit faster than I expected and well, it's now somewhere under your bed, love."
"Oh. My. God. I can't. No. I won't be able to sleep in there."
"I'm so sorry, love, I can't fit underneath the bed-frame to get to it."
"It's not your fault. You tried. Please tell me that I'm not overreacting and that is the biggest spider you've ever seen?"
"Aye, you would probably have to pay the pet fee for it if the landlords knew it had taken up residence here."
Catching his eye, she takes in his barely contained laughter, causing her to let out a deep breath and smile, a laugh of her own threatening to escape at the ridiculousness that is her life.
"Thank you, um….sorry, I don't even know your name?"
"Killian Jones, at your service, milady." He is bowing again, flourishing the flip flop still in his hand like a sword, his eyes staying locked with hers.
Shaking her head at him, now fully laughing at his ridiculousness, she waits until he is done with his dramatics before introducing herself in return.
"Nice to meet you, Killian. I'm Emma."
"Swan."
"Yes, how did you know that?"
His hand is reaching again for his ear, giving away that this is obviously a nervous tick, one that she is finding more adorable each time he does it.
"Saw it on your mailbox, love."
"Oh, right. Well, Killian, thank you for trying to rescue me. I feel ridiculously embarrassed right now."
"It was really not a problem, Emma. But, I, forgive me for prying, but where do you plan to sleep?"
She actually doesn't have a good answer for that particular question, she realizes, as going back inside to gather her things to go stay with her friend Ruby would mean putting herself in the path of the spider again. Perhaps she could sleep out here in the hallway? She lifts her eyes to meet his quiet, questioning gaze, wishing she has something to say that sounds believable.
"Don't worry about me, I'll….I'll figure something out."
Perhaps it is the fact that she has made no move to approach her door, or the panic that is beginning to show on her face, but something obviously prompts Killian to make an offer she really should refuse.
"I have a spare bedroom that you are welcome to, Emma. I promise, I'm not a murderer, unless we're talking about spider murder that is, which I have already proven to be quite bad at."
Emma lets the shock of his offer sink in for a moment before looking him in the eye, scrutinizing him in the dim light of the hallway as she ponders her current lack of options. She should probably say no, as there are a million reasons why this was a horrible idea. But looking at him now, all beautiful and charming and shirtless, she smiles at him, deciding to throw caution to the wind for once in her life.
"Can I borrow some pajamas?"
