Fluff fluff fluff.

This was written super quickly so I apologize for any errors/awkward phrasing/general suckage.

Inspired by a recent picture of Jmo admiring the Elsa braid on set.

Please review :)

disclaimer: characters belong to their respect creators. I own nothing.

"Swan! We were supposed to be out the door 15 bloody minutes ago!"

Emma rolled her eyes from her place in front of the mirror, where she was just finishing off the loose fishtail braid with a hair band. After inspecting her work, she, for the third time in the half hour she'd spent messing with her hair in the bathroom, let out a frustrated groan and angrily ripped out the hair tie from the end of her braid.

An impatient pirate was just pushing his way through the half-opened door to the single bathroom in their shared apartment as she shook out and started to comb her fingers through the now-tangled strands.

Killian raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you already have it up before we were running late?" He made an effort not to sound pushy, but they were supposed to meet Mary Margaret, David, and Henry at their apartment before heading over to the mayor's house for a dinner party. They were sure to be late if they didn't leave soon.

The blond sighed, "I decided I didn't like it," with a quick wave of her hand, and grabbed a comb to begin separating her hair into equal parts once again. She heard a grumble from her roommate (it was easier to refer to the pirate as such, rather than contemplate another, more accurate term to describe their- whatever it was), and saw him lean up against the doorframe. She couldn't help but appreciate his ensemble for the night: dark jeans and a crisp cornflower blue button down, untucked. As though amused by her obvious perusal, Killian met her eyes in the mirror with a sinful smirk, accompanied by a wink that had her dropping the comb.

"I do like it down like that. It's wavy. Mermaid hair," he observed as Emma bent down to pick up the comb. The action gave him a generous view down the white v-neck sweater she wore, and he smiled. When she stood back up and faced the mirror once more, she didn't even look at him as she shot back a terse "Well I want to wear a braid."

Rolling his own eyes slightly, Killian pushed off the doorframe, and took a step into the room, bringing him close enough to smell the soft flowery scent of whatever product she put in her hair. He let out a low chuckle at her distress as she broke the hair band as it was wound around her hair one too many times. Still smiling, he took the comb from her hands, and, setting it on the counter, picked up a brush made of rough black bristles that he knew made her hair unbelievable soft. Against her mumbled protest, he began to gently untangle her hair with his hook, following its path with the brush. After a few moments, Emma's face visibly relaxed in the mirror and she leaned into his caress, enjoying the uncommon feeling of being pampered by someone else.

His voice in her ear telling her to "stand up, love," caused her to open her eyes (when did that happen?) and do as he instructed.

Killian grinned as he set the brush down and began using his metal appendage to separate her hair into parts. At Emma's confused expression (how in the world does a pirate know how to braid?), he sighed "Milah" as an explanation. In just the single word, she could recognize the hurt behind it, but didn't feel the jealousy within her that once accompanied the name of his first love. Since his confession in the Echo Cave, Emma had been more observant to the little things the pirate did for her- holding doors, remembering which shows she watched and recording them on the nights she worked late at the station, offering to watch Henry for a few hours- and began to believe that he truly did feel something strongly for her. She'd be lying if she denied the physical attraction between the two of them (because, come on), but the possibility of something more became more and more appealing to her whenever he did things like this.

When he tied off the braid with a flourish, Emma turned and craned her neck to get a view of it from various angles. It wasn't just a plain three-strand, as she had expected, but an elaborate pattern starting from the crown of her head, and loosely falling out and back into place as it traveled down her neck. The originality of the style and the sweetness of the whole situation (he braided her hair for christ's sake) had her smiling.

"Are we ready to go, now?" Killian asked, still impatient, but sounding less so now that he had caught her smile in the mirror.

Emma turned, nodding, and practically skipped out of the bathroom, already shrugging on her jacket by the time Killian turned off the light over the mirror and made his way over to the coatracks to grab his own coat.

During the short walk over to Emma's parents' apartment, it was his turn to smile as she walked slightly ahead of him, the braid swinging behind her.