AN: I know I've been awol for twenty eight years and I do apologize, but I've been busy in the *ugh* real world! I also wrote a real book! And published it! It's on Amazon and if you want to check it out, just let me know! Anyway, I've been working on this all summer and it was intended just to be a one-shot but it's blown out of proportion so now it might be three parts. All of which I hope to have posted soon. AND DID YOU SEE JENNIFER'S RETURN TONIGHT? OH MY GOD. (I MUST ADMIT THIS IS THE ONLY EPISODE I HAVE WATCHED AND INTEND TO WATCH THIS SEASON). A CAPTAINSWAN BABY! CAPTAINSWAN ENDGAME! OLD HOOK IS CURSED! WHOA! ALSO, *SPOILERS GALORE* sorry not sorry. I wish we saw the baby, though. Maybe in the series finale. Well, I hope y'all enjoy this.
Disclaimer: hell no. damn a&e own everything.
It's mid-March when he moves in down the hall from her.
Normally, she wouldn't have noticed. She tends not to think too much about the other tenants in her building. Or other people in general, aside from her close-knit circle of friends.
Spending the first 14 years of your life in the foster system will do that to you.
He's attempting to push an oversized black leather couch into the doorway of what can only be his apartment now.
(She may not keep track of every single tenant, but it would have been hard not to notice how many people were being shown that unit in the last few weeks. It's a nice building in Boston and all.)
She is making her way out of her own apartment and to the station to catch up on some paperwork when she spots him, huffing as he tries (and fails) to shove the couch through in one sharp push. She raises an eyebrow and leans against the doorframe. There's something about the way he seems so determined to get it in that intrigues her.
And, yes, she realizes the innuendo.
He grunts and his dark hair falls across his forehead and into his eyes. The black t-shirt he's wearing does nothing to hide his biceps from her view, and the way his face and arms are glistening with sweat, she can tell he's been at this for quite a while.
As he kicks the bottom of the couch in frustration, she lets out a snort of laughter. All of a sudden, his head shoots up and blue, blue eyes meet her green ones.
He quirks an eyebrow at her in question and wipes his hands on his dark blue jeans.
"So, my struggle is amusing to you?" he asks, his accented voice dripping with half-hearted sarcasm.
"The determination to get that through such a tight entrance was, yeah." She responds, only realizing what the deeper meaning behind what she's said after the words have slipped past her lips.
He leans against the couch and waggles his eyebrows in a suggestive manner as he smoothly replies, "Trust me, darling, I've slipped through tighter entrances in my life."
The way he runs his tongue over his bottom lip when he's finished speaking is what gets her. She breaks into a fit of near uncontrollable giggles-which she hasn't done in years, mind you-and can't seem to stop until air becomes a pressing issue. He eventually gives in and laughs along with her, realizing the intensity of his innuendo was more laughable than anything of his presumed salacious intent.
"I have to thank you," she starts when she can finally breathe again. "For making what was bound to be a boring morning interesting."
"I'm glad to be of service." He says, flourishing a bow towards her. She shoots him an unimpressed look.
"And with that, I really do have to go to work. Do you have anyone coming to help you bring that in?" she asks, gesturing towards the couch.
He waves a hand before himself. "I'll be alright."
"Okay." She responds, having brushed of other peoples' offers of help too many times before to ever attempt to force her own help on another. "Well, welcome to the building." She begins making her way towards the elevators down the hall.
"Wait!" he calls after her, prompting her to spin around and face him once more. He shuffles his feet and gives her a shy, lopsided grin. "I-uh, didn't catch your name."
She raises her eyebrow. "That's because I didn't give it to you." she tells him matter-of-factly. At the way his face falls, in a completely uncharacteristic move, she gives in to his request. "It's Emma. Emma Swan."
He smiles. "Emma." He says thoughtfully, and she finds herself internally shivering at the way her name rolls off his tongue. He holds out his hand and she takes it in her own, shaking it firmly. "Killian Jones. It was a pleasure meeting you." he winks.
"Sure." She responds and then moves to leave, somehow knowing he's watching her go.
She should have known that would definitely not be the last time she saw Killian Jones.
A week later, she's heading out of her apartment to meet Ruby for drinks at the shady bar downtown. She's just finished having yet another long telephone conversation-argument, it was an argument-with her on-again, off-again ("boyfriend" seems so final, in a way)…casual acquaintance, Walsh.
He wants more than she's willing to give and her just can't seem to understand that it's not him. She doesn't see a future with anyone, but he'd like to get married and live out the rest of his life with her.
Honestly, she should really dump him. She kind of forgets about him most of the time and being with somebody for multiple years simply because it's more convenient than heading out to the nearest bar to get laid is not a real means of being with someone. Then again, it's not like their relationship has ever been conventional or exclusive, and she has definitely slept with some fine specimens of men since meeting him (like the mysterious but also slightly crazed-looking Jeff she met last weekend. Boy, was he good in bed).
Either way, she's argued with him over the phone way more than she's seen him in the past three years of their relationship and if that doesn't tell you all you need to know, well, nothing else really can.
She's more than ready to get smashed on shots of tequila and vodka, and she's got her head in her purse, fruitlessly checking to see if she's got her keys because of course she remembers to look for them after she leaves her apartment, when all of a sudden-
The audible smack could probably be heard for miles.
She collides right into the hard planes of the chest of one Killian Jones.
His arms reach up to steady her, settling firmly on her shoulders. "Whoa, there," he starts, his eyes ducking down to make sure the woman he's collided against hasn't been injured. When his eyes slide up to hers, his whole face shifts with recognition and he smirks dangerously at her. Her brain gives a tiny eye roll (and judging by the way his smirk only grows wider, she thinks her eyes must give one, too). "Well," he begins, "Fancy running into you. Although, it does seem fair to point out that you ran into me."
This time, there's no question: she definitely rolls her eyes. "Yeah, accidentally. I didn't intend for you to be right outside my door. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be so-"
"Well, now that explains why you were in such a rush. But it would just be bad form to rush off without even attempting to assess the damage or even apologize." He bats his eyelashes at her like a proper schoolgirl and it takes everything in her not to audibly scoff at him.
"Damage? Are you kidding me? You're perfectly fine. I'm the one who ran into your wall of a chest." At the glimmer in his eyes, she groans and puts up one hand. "Don't start. I'm sorry I ran into you, now if you'll excuse me-"
He interrupts her yet again, "I do accept you heartfelt apology, Ms. Swan, but doesn't it seem a bit foolish to allow such an opportune moment to slip past us?"
"Opportune moment? What are you talking about? What do you want to come with me?"
His eyes light up like a kid with candy and she immediately regrets opening her mouth. "Why, what a fantastic idea! Let me just grab my jacket and we'll be off." He begins to head toward his apartment.
"Wait, no, that's not what I-"
"I'll meet you in the lobby, Swan!" he calls over his shoulder.
Emma raises her hands in frustration and throws her head back. Begrudgingly admitting defeat (she decides it would be too awkward of a conversation if she left without him now and happened to run into him in the lobby once again), she trudges down the steps towards the lobby.
"My, oh, my. Who do we have here?" Ruby asks with a positively feral grin. Emma resists the urge to facepalm.
Killian grins joyfully. He extends his hand to Ruby, who takes it in her own with a smirk. "Killian Jones." He offers (a bit too enthusiastically, Emma muses, but then again, what does she care), causing her friend to narrow her eyes at the man. Then turn her gaze upon her.
Dear Lord.
"Emma, I didn't know you were seeing anyone! How could you keep this from me? And someone so hot? God, Em! And, oh! You finally dumped Walsh! Thank the lord!" she turns to Killian. "Oh, thank you, McHottie for helping her finally dump that boring old lump! You see, I've been telling her for ages she needs a little adventure in her life, and you sir, are definitely what she needs-"
"Ruby!" Emma almost yells, silencing her friend's rapid-fire line of questioning and exclamations. She sighs. "I'm not seeing Killian. He's my neighbor from down the hall. He just moved in and I thought I'd be nice," she says with a pointed look towards the man himself, "and show him around the city. Help him get to know some people. And yes, unfortunately I am still seeing the 'boring, old lump'".
Ruby literally pouts at Emma's confession, and at the mention of her sort-of, kind-of boyfriend, Killian's expression seems to dampen a little.
"Well, that's a damn shame." The brunette states, staring at her margarita with a melancholy look in her eyes. But, then, as per Ruby, her ears perk up and so does her mood. "But Walsh isn't here tonight, and Killian is. So I'd say your relationship status is a bit of a moot point, huh?"
"Um, Ruby.."
"Nope. Your answer is moot, too, so don't even try it." She turns to Killian with a deathly smirk. "Killian, have you ever tried a body shot?"
"Uuuuhhh…" he breathes out, eyes darting between a mortified Emma and a gleeful Ruby. "Would my answer matter either way?"
"Nah, moot!" she yells, finishing off her margarita and waving the bartender over.
"You keep using that word," Killian notes. "I do not think it means what you think it means." She waves him off just as the bartender reaches their little table. "We'll take three shots of tequila. And a couple of limes! Also, what's the limit for public indecency here? These two will be taking shots off each other." She grins broadly and Killian freezes.
This time, Emma does facepalm.
This is how it begins.
After the night at the bar, Ruby just insists Killian join them for brunch with Mary Margaret, who is instantly intrigued at the idea that Emma has a new prospective love interest.
("Mary Margaret, he's not my boyfriend."
"Well, of course he's not. You're dating Walsh."
"Huh? Oh, shit! Walsh!"
Her friend sighs. "Emma, if you can't remember you're dating the poor guy at least once a week, you should just end it with him already. Save us all some trouble." Her whole face perks up mischieviously then. "And then you'd be free to see Killian!"
"UGH.")
But everything goes to hell when Killian joins them for a group dinner, and fucking David (of all people!) deems Killian worthy of becoming his new best pal.
And all hopes of avoiding her dangerously attractive neighbor vanish before her eyes.