A little, completely unplanned spin-off of my cssv drabble Sleepless... my muse and fairy godmother Silvia insisted on knowing what Hook's exact reaction to Emma's baby news would be. And when your fairy godmother demands to know something, you give her the bloody answer.
"Killian, we need to talk." Emma's voice was firm, but also held the slightest trace of nervousness.
Hook raised his hand in a defensive move and his eyebrows in question. "Whatever it is, Swan, I solemnly swear that this time I'm completely and utterly innocent," he declared a little theatrically and gave her his best blue-eyed puppy look.
"No, you're not," she replied dryly and suppressed a nervous chuckle.
He rolled his eyes. "This is about Henry's homework, isn't it?" he assumed. "I can explain that."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she waved him off impatiently, "and I don't even want to know. It's not about that."
Hook scratched behind his ear a little cluelessly. "Well, then tell me what it is that I've done, love, so we can put it to rights."
She averted her eyes for a moment. "It's not that simple."
He sighed and rubbed his hand slowly over his mouth. "It never is." Then he drew a deep breath, being at his wit's end now. "Out with it, Swan. You're worrying me."
Emma fidgeted with one of her earrings; a normally completely unusual gesture for her. "Oh, it's nothing to worry about, at least I think it's not," she sputtered a little clumsily. "In fact, it's pretty... awesome." She shrugged and added hastily: "I hope."
He shook his head and frowned. "What's all the blabbering about?" he asked and snorted a little laugh. "You sound like you're trying to tell me..." Suddenly, he interrupted himself and fell silent, his mouth hanging open. He stared at her in complete and utter disbelief.
She shuffled her feet a little under his probing stare. "I'm... expecting?" she let the word tentatively roll off her tongue, and it felt a little weird and frightening, because she had no idea how he was going to take the news. They had been living together only for a few weeks now, and everything had seemed to run so smoothly. They were just getting used to it, and highly enjoying themselves, growing together step by step.
"Expecting what?" he almost stuttered.
Emma huffed, almost annoyed – equally by his cluelessness and her own nervousness. "Isn't that how you'd call it?"
Hook waved his hand in a vague, all-encompassing move. "You mean, as in expecting..."
"...a baby!" she blurted out in an exasperated voice. "As in expecting a baby, Hook. I'm pregnant."
Slowly, almost trance-like, he turned his head from one side to the other. Stunned like that, Emma had seen him only once, when he'd come to pick her up for their first date which seemed like ages ago now. "You're making me a father?" he uttered tonelessly, his voice rough and husky.
"Well, actually, you participated in it," she replied dryly, "and quite often and thoroughly, if you ask me." Her miserable attempt at lightening the situation a little didn't really work, because her quip came out much more harshly and snarkily than she'd planned. He rubbed his hand over his chin, making a soft scratchy sound on the scruff, his gaze lost somewhere. Otherwise, he remained completely silent. Emma's palms started to sweat, and she rubbed them absentmindedly on her jeans. "Say something?" she urged nervously.
"Bloody hell," he murmured.
That was it, she'd had enough. "Really?" Emma snapped.
Slowly, he turned his eyes to her and just stared... and finally, she realized that he'd just fallen silent because he was simply overwhelmed, and obviously not in an unpleasant way. He looked at her like he couldn't believe it; like he couldn't believe she, this was even real, like it was too much, but in a wonderful way. An expression of wonder spread over his handsome face. She was relieved and felt a grounding happiness sweetly pull at her insides. An adorable, little shy smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
"I'm probably the luckiest man in this realm," he finally said thoughtfully, his voice still a little trance-like, "or any realm. I'm certainly the happiest one." And there it was, that tiny smile of his that was reserved only for her, appearing in the corners of his blue eyes, lighting them up like stars and crinkling the fine skin around them. But it didn't stop there; it blossomed all over his face, and she simply had to return it.
"I wasn't sure how you'd take the news," she admitted.
"Are you serious?!" He frowned and crinkled his nose. "How could you think I'd be aught but overjoyed?"
Emma shrugged. "Well, I..." Before she could finish the sentence, Hook swept her up in his arms, catching her by surprise and making her gasp, and whirled her around. Both laughed and fell down on their couch where he lunged forward and kissed her breathless.
Finally, he pulled away reluctantly and told her: "Our daughter will be the bravest, most beautiful pirate princess to ever sail the Seven Seas..." When he saw that his Swan gave him her most severe really?-face, he quickly added: "...or roam any realm."
"You really think that?" she asked in an amused tone.
"Most certainly, Swan!" he replied almost indignantly. "With your beauty and my bravado she can't be anything less than perfect."
Emma was touched beyond anything about his enthusiasm. Although she'd suspected he would love to have a daughter – and a daughter would downright adore him as a daddy – somehow she'd always assumed that a not-really-21st century man would surely want a son as a firstborn. Again, he'd managed to surprise her. "And if it's a boy?" she wanted to know.
He tilted his head in a shrug. "Same. My dastardly good looks and your habit of always doing the right thing?" He motioned his hand between them. "Can never fail."
She averted her eyes for a moment, touched by his words, but also a little embarrassed. "I made my mistakes, too. Many of them."
He snorted a little laugh. "Aye, but always with the best intentions. Unlike me."
She couldn't believe that he still put himself down like that every once in a while. She touched his face lovingly, her intense gaze searching his. "Whatever it will be, our child can be proud to have you as a father."
He drew a deep breath and looked away in an embarrassed way, tilting his head skeptically, eyebrows quirking. "Well..." he murmured. Before Emma could scold him, his head snapped around to look at her again in a most bewildered way. "Oh, bloody hell."
She frowned. "Again?"
"Your father is going to punch someone's face," he groaned.
She laughed at his absolute adorableness in his worrying. "That could indeed happen," she confirmed dryly. "But I might have an idea how to avoid that." He looked at her with a frown, and without even thinking any further, she blurted out: "I could always make you an honorable man." The moment her words were out, she couldn't believe what she'd just said, but surprisingly enough, she didn't regret it. She didn't really understand how or why, but she knew one thing: it just felt right.
"What are you saying, Swan," he scolded, "I am quite honora-" But then he fell silent when he suddenly realized what she'd been saying. He stared at her with his mouth hanging open, his face mirroring his complete shock, and she wasn't sure what his expression meant.
Emma blushed a little, taken by surprise and also a little terrified by her own words; then she raised her chin: there was no way she was going to backpedal now. "What?" she snapped. "This is the 21st century. I asked you out on a date, I asked you to move in together, I can ask you this, too."
Hook was completely stunned, and even when he'd recovered a bit from his initial shock, he couldn't believe his luck; it was almost too much: first the baby news, then this... and suddenly, his mind was wonderfully light and free, and he felt almost like he was drunk. But this, this was so much better, because nothing was blurred, everything was clear and sharp, and he was aware of every single detail: the way her green eyes were glittering and shining, displaying a mix of confusion, happiness and stubbornness; the way her hair smelled of that new shampoo she'd bought a week ago – it had a faint scent of apples, and he'd teased her quite a bit about it; how adorably she tried to play her own nervousness down but betrayed herself with the way she chewed on her bottom lip and wrought her hands in her lap. This had to be a dream. Except, it was real.
He grinned cheekily and waved his hand. "Oh, of course you can. Well, then – let's hear it."
She narrowed her eyes. "Hear what?"
He tilted his head, clearly teasing her now. "Why, your proposal, Swan."
Emma rolled her eyes and huffed; really, sometimes he was too much. Not everything was a fucking joke. She replied in a pretty annoyed voice: "If you're expecting anything like that pompous way of talking you're so fond of..."
"Swan," he interrupted, "do I have to teach you everything?" She glared at him, and he went on with a heart-stopping smile: "In some cases, less is more." She pressed her lips together, but he wasn't deterred in any way. "Now, if I was the one proposing to you, I'd simply say..." He paused for a moment to take her hand and looked her deep in the eyes. For a moment, she had the impression that her heart stopped beating; he was completely serious now, and his mesmerizing eyes went right to the bottom of her very soul. She couldn't have looked away, even if she'd wanted to. She swallowed, and he said: "Let me be yours for ever."
And now it was Emma's turn to blink and stare at him with her mouth hanging open; the openness, sincerity and simplicity of his words were taking her breath away. She thought for a moment that these were probably the most unusual words for a proposal she'd ever heard, but then she understood what he meant, what his words meant – what it was all about: it wasn't about asking something, asking for the other person's love or hand or loyalty – It was about fully committing to the other person, about offering your own love and hand and loyalty, giving yourself, and all of you. She swallowed and smiled, feeling the tears stinging in the corners of her eyes. "Has a nice ring to it," she admitted in a croaky voice. "Can I borrow it?"
The stars in his smiling eyes were almost blinding her. "Just help yourself, Swan," he replied softly.
Emma's heart was racing in her chest now, and she squeezed his hand that was still holding hers, reveling in his loving expression; then she drew a deep breath. "Killian Jones, let me be-"
She never got the chance to finish, because he simply grabbed her and kissed her; it was a long, languid, very tender kiss that also held all the passion that was between them. And finally, when her body relaxed against his, like always finding that the safest place in this world – or any world – was in this man's arms. After what seemed an eternity, they broke apart very slowly; their foreheads were resting against each other.
Then he smiled. "I'd be honored."