For my Captain Swan Secret Santa ohdearbabybird. Inspired by her love for White Collar and Neal Cafferty (not to be confused with Once's Neal Cassidy). Merry CS Christmas!
Emma knew she had a killer pair of black heels somewhere, she just didn't know where. Boxes that were labeled as "clothes" were actually dishes. She found a "shoe" box, but it was full of Henry's favorite sneakers from their time in New York.
As she combed through box after box in her dress, she began to realize just how much stuff she had collected from her time in the city and her time back in Storybrooke. It was totally unlike what she would expect for her life after aimlessly drifting from place to place. The boxes seemed to be a sign that she had finally started to settle down and believe this apartment was now her own.
Technically, it was her own. She had signed the lease. She had packed the stuff at her parents' place and put it here instead. She had also moved her extra boxes from a storage unit near the docks, which turned out to be pretty fortuitous considering the curse Ingrid had left behind at the town line.
Despite all the boxes and things, she was still hoping to move something else in - or rather someone else. Emma was waiting for the right time, waiting for a few more boxes to get unpacked before she would finally ask him. It just seemed so useless for Killian to pay for a room at Granny's when he had stayed here every night for the past week despite the mess that she created when she first moved in.
He did at least leave for several hours today after she made him waffles this morning for breakfast - and then occupied themselves with some other activities that definitely had distracted her from unpacking. But after that, Killian had left, saying he had to "get a few things done at home." It didn't make much sense considering his home was a room at a bed and breakfast. There wasn't much to do there, at least not without Emma around.
She finally located her black shoes, slipping them on before smoothing down the skirt. Emma was still nervous about this particular dress. It was a dark red strapless number with a flouncy knee-length skirt that fluffed up when she spun in it. Of course, she wasn't sure if that was going to be useful tonight considering Killian had been somewhat cagey about where they were going. But she once again had let him plan their date after he did so well with their first one.
Emma was taking one last peek at herself in the mirror when she heard the knock at her new door. Careful not to trip on the rolled-up rug or the books on the floor, she quickly weaved her way through to open the door … and then stopped.
Killian seemed to have this frustrating habit of showing up at her door for a date in something completely breathtaking. Tonight was no exception. He apparently had used his time out this afternoon to buy a new suit that looked amazing on him. It was grey with tailored pants that made his legs look long and lanky, a matching suit jacket, and a white buttoned-down shirt accentuated with a skinny grey tie. But the piece that really tied it all together was the dark fedora on his head.
"Good evening, love," he said, taking the hat off and placing it over his heart. "You do looking stunning as always."
She smiled as he leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. "And you look like you belong with the Rat Pack."
Killian pulled away and gave her a curious stare. "Are you saying I look like I associate myself with bilge rats?"
"No, not those kinds of rats," Emma stammered, realizing her pop culture reference likely didn't make any sense to her pirate. "I just mean you look sharp."
"Sharp?" he asked, suspicious again of her word choice. "Like a sword?"
Emma just rolled her eyes. "No, not literally sharp," she said as she began to walk away to grab her purse.
Instead, she was surprisingly pulled closer by a hook around her waist before seeing Killian's face mere inches from her. "I only ask because I know how much you enjoy my swordplay," he said in a low deep voice, his lips curling up into a mischievous sneer.
"You promised me dinner first," she teased back, giving him a quick peck on his cheek before sliding out of his grasp to grab her purse and a black shawl.
She could hear him groan behind her. "You can't blame a man for trying, Swan."
"I don't," she replied. "I'm just a little famished after our more enjoyable activities earlier today, and you promised me a romantic night out."
"And I know it's good form to keep a promise to a woman."
Emma swung the shawl over her arms and smiled, watching him slide his hat deftly back on his head. Then she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, carefully avoiding his hook before walking out of the apartment with him.
She was thankful she had grabbed her shawl once they got outside. It wasn't cold, but she had started to learn that living this close to the bay meant there was usually a cool breeze coming off the water, even in the middle of the summer.
"So where are you taking me in your fancy suit, pirate?"
Killian smiled and slid his free hand into his pants pocket, making him look even sexier as he walked down the street with his hot date in tow.
"Well, I heard there was something called a 'jazz club' nearby that might be a nice destination for dinner and perhaps a little dancing."
"And where did you hear that from?"
He turned to her, the moonlight reflecting off his blue eyes. "A little birdie told me," he said teasingly.
Emma laughed. "You mean my mother?"
"The very same," he replied warmly. "And since the last time I danced with you was 30 years ago, I thought it would be nice to try it again."
Emma's grip on his arm tightened as she pulled herself closer to him. She remembered her first ball, one she conveniently found her way into on their little time-traveling escapade. For someone who had spent most of his life as a pirate, Killian had surprised her with how deftly he maneouvered them across the floor. In all of the chaos in their trip to the past, it had been one of the quiet moments that still brought her happy memories. It also helped that like that night, she was decked out in a red dress. Her date, however, was definitely not in the same attire.
"How exactly did you get this particular ensemble together?" she asked.
"I told the woman at the shop that I needed something special for a night of jazz and romance," he said flirtatiously.
"So she dressed you like Frank Sinatra?"
He gave her a perplexed look. "I don't know who that is, but sure."
She smiled at him before he began to pull away slightly, leaving her skin cool from where he had been. Killian walked a few feet and opened a door for her into an unassuming building she had never really noticed before.
The inside was definitely what she would expect from a jazz bar. It was darkly lit with all sorts of potential corners to get lost in. There were several tables in the middle with white linens and small candles. The couple followed their host to a high-backed rounded booth along one of the walls, and Emma slid carefully in on the dark red leather towards the middle of the booth with Killian taking the other side after she was seated. Of course, he didn't stop, continuing to ease his way closer to her until their bodies were mere inches apart. He took his hat off and laid it gently on the table before setting out the menu in front of him, giving his hand the freedom to rest on her bare knee.
"Anything you see that you like, Swan?"
She looked up to notice him side-eyeing her, teasing her with his double entendre.
"There are a few things," she replied coyly as she looked back at her menu.
It included the typical food she could find whenever Walsh took them out to a local jazz club near her apartment in New York. Of course, Walsh was long gone, but Emma still missed the food she would often order there.
"Hey," she said, closing her menu with a bit of a flourish. "I know you planned this date, but what if you let me order for you?"
Killian looked up and gazed at her skeptically. "A woman order for me?"
"What's the matter?" she said teasingly. "Don't trust me?"
The sides of his mouth curled up and he slowly closed the menu in front of him without actually looking back down at it. "Of course I trust you," he replied in a similar tone. "Let's see what you can do."
Emma motioned for the waiter to get their order. As he walked towards them, Killian leaned over and whispered, "Just make sure you get me some rum."
"Forget it, pirate," she said. "I have something else planned."
Emma then intently watched him as the waiter brought over drinks and bread and food and more drinks. She was especially pleased with the look on Killian's face when he took his first sip of a Jack and Coke.
"That's Tennessee whiskey," she explained. "It's an American thing."
"It's a delicious thing," he replied. "Is it always diluted with this sugary syrup?"
Emma smiled. "The Coke? No. But I don't want to take home a drunk pirate."
"I'm not sure if I would mind," he said. "It depends on whose place we're going back to."
She simply grinned and began to dig into their crab cakes. Those were followed by the main course - veal parmesan for her and a steak and baked potato for him. Emma watched as her pirate had his first bite of a real American steak, and she loved the look of enjoyment on his face. And of course, she had to get a piece of warm apple pie with ice cream for dessert.
"Oh, I recognize this!" Killian said triumphantly. "This is the delicious confection I found out about at Granny's. It has cinnamon, you know?"
Oh, she knew, which is why she was so excited to see it on the menu.
As their waiter cleared away the final plate, Killian tried to order one more drink. "Another one of those American whiskey concoctions but without the syrup this time."
The waiter looked a bit confused until Emma stepped in to translate for him. "Jack on the rocks."
He nodded and headed for the bar, leaving the couple alone in their booth. Killian slid closer to his date, his hand reaching for hers.
"So I believe dancing was promised, but I'm afraid I'm not aware of your steps here."
Emma motioned towards the dance floor with a nod of her head, then slid out of the booth with Killian following her. She grabbed a few dollars out of her purse and walked over to the leader of the band on stage, whispering something in his ear. Then she headed back to Killian, who was standing with a curious look on his face.
"You ready?" she asked.
"You lead the way, Swan."
She grabbed his hook and let his arm fall naturally around her waist, then took his hand in her own and placed her other one on his shoulder. Emma pulled him close to her, her cheek brushing against his scruff as she began to lead them on the floor.
Those fingers in my hair, that sly come hither stare,
That strips my conscience bare, it's witchcraft.
"Witchcraft?" Killian asked as they swayed to the music. "Was this song written about you?" he said teasingly.
"Perhaps," she whispered, pulling herself closer to him.
This felt so comfortable for her, he felt so comfortable for her. She just couldn't help but smile, tucking her chin closer to the crook of his neck as they danced before the final words from the singer on stage swirled around them.
It's such an ancient pitch, but one I wouldn't switch,
'Cause there's no nicer witch than you.
"You cannot convince me this song is about anyone in town other than you, Swan," he murmured in her ear.
"And that's a problem?" she asked, pulling herself away to look in his eyes.
He tucked some stray hair behind her ear. "Not a problem at all, love."
Emma gave him a small smile and grabbed his hand to lead him off of the dance floor. "Would it be a problem if you took me home?" she asked.
"Not at all," he said.
His hand slipped out of hers as he gently placed it on the small of her back to lead her back to their table and take care of the check for their meal. After she paid the bill - apparently Killian forgot to see if they accepted gold doubloons - the couple discretely made their way outside and headed to Emma's apartment.
The breeze was still cool but calming, the water gently lapping against the docks as they made their way home. She looked over to see Killian staring ahead as they walked, his fedora back on his head, shadowing his eyes in even more darkness than the night that surrounded them.
Emma took a deep breath, summoning up some courage in her chest. She knew this is what she wanted and knew this is what he wanted too. So why was she so nervous?
"Listen," she said, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between them. "About my apartment."
"Is there a problem with it?" he asked.
"Sort of."
Killian stopped and turned towards her, a look of concern on her face. "I can fix whatever you need me to - within reason," he teased. "So really, I can tell David to fix it for you."
She chuckled quietly. "No, there's nothing broken or anything."
"So what's wrong with it?"
Emma took another deep breath and looked up at him. "You're not there."
"Well, I'm at Granny's right now," he explained. "Unless ... you don't want me to be at Granny's?"
She shook her head. "I want you to be with me."
The smile that spread across Killian's face was bigger and brighter than any she had seen from him before. "I would like that very much, love."
His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer as he pressed his lips firmly against hers, the brim of his hat tickling her forehead. She turned slightly, tucking herself under the bill of his fedora to deepen their kiss. His lips were soft and tasted like Jack Daniel's, and she felt so at ease with her pirate, who had somehow transformed into this dapper drinker with swagger.
But she finally had to pull away and smile. "Let's get you back to our place."
"Our place?" he asked. "I do like the sound of that, Swan."
The tips of her fingers ran gently along the edge of his fedora and she grinned. "I promise I'll even find a place for you to hang your hat."