He pulled up the drive slowly, gravel crunching under the tires of his beat up old pickup truck. Throwing it into park, Killian wiped his palms nervously on his jeans, debating whether or not he should go knock on the door or wait in the car.
She said she would come out and meet me, he thought, reinforcing his decision to push down the chivalrous rules his brother had engrained in him for years.
He wasn't good at this. Any of it. His brother taught him the right way to be a gentleman around people, but not how to act around girls. And she wasn't just any ordinary girl either.
Right before he could give in and run up the front walkway, the door cracked open, and he gulped involuntarily. Here goes nothing.
But instead of a mane of bright bouncing curls, he was greeted by the sight of a tall, broad-shouldered gentleman. He looked to be middle-aged, his flannel shirt doing little to hide muscles that seemed way too defined for a man his age. Emma's father.
Killian had heard of David Nolan before, tales of his graciousness and kind ways, befitting of the man so lovingly nicknamed the king of Storybrooke. It didn't matter that he was merely the veterinarian in town, everyone seemed to gravitate toward him and his wife to solve their issues before ever thinking of heading towards the true people in authority. They just had that way about them, the fairytale couple that had all the answers.
However, right now Killian was having a lot of trouble rectifying those stories with the man in front of him, the man glaring daggers through the windshield like he had just pulled up to whisk away his little girl like some sort of rapscallion. Or perhaps scoundrel was a better term for it.
Just as Killian started to sweat under Mr. Nolan's icy glare, he caught sight of a small form moving out the doorway and slipping into her shoes.
She was a vision in jeans and a simple white tank top, her trademark red leather jacket slung over one shoulder, trapping some of those blonde girls he had admired from the back of the classroom for so long. She stepped around her father, kissing him on the cheek and waving goodbye. Mr. Nolan seemed to soften momentarily at her touch, but quickly looked up to deliver one final death glare before a petite woman with jet black hair stepped out and tugged him back inside.
Killian tore his eyes away from the sight of the little lamb taming the lion as he heard the click of his passenger side door opening.
He was transfixed. Emma Nolan was sliding gracefully into his truck, throwing her jacket over her lap and buckling her seat belt as she turned to him with a soft smile on her face. He had been shocked by her beauty for years, but closed up with her in the cab of the truck, he was overwhelmed by everything about her. He smell, her softness, the way she held herself with an air of grace and dignity that was rarely possessed by a girl twice her age. If her father was king of Storybrooke, Emma Nolan certainly befitted all the properties needed in a perfect princess.
But Killian knew that there was more to her than just that, a darkness that haunted her eyes when she thought no one else was looking. And perhaps she would have been able to hide it from him as well, if he wasn't so inexplicably attuned to every bewitching thing about this girl.
Her green eyes were opened curiously, and he realized with a start that she had been talking to him.
"Sorr-, sorry, love, did you say something?" he stammered, immediately throwing the notion that he would be able to gracefully make it through this evening out the window. Way to go mate, three seconds in and you are already making a sodding fool of yourself.
Emma giggled, and Killian couldn't help the goofy grin that lit up his face at the sound.
"I said, are you ready to go?"
"Oh! Well, of course, if you're all set that is," Killian recovered, throwing the gear into reverse and backing out of the driveway.
"Oh Emma, one quick question," he said, stealing one last glance at her house before driving off. "Was that a sword hanging on the wall inside your doorway?"
"Oh yeah, that's dad's," Emma groaned. "He's a big medieval history nerd. But don't worry, I doubt he would even know how to use it," she laughed.
Killian laughed along with her, albeit with a bit more hesitation. He could have sworn he saw Mr. Nolan in the window as the pulled away, polishing the sword slowly until it gleamed.
They drove down the main strip of the little town of Storybrooke as Killian fiddled with the radio, trying to get some semblance of a top 40 tune to rise out of the static.
"I like the truck," Emma said, looking around the cab.
"Thanks, lass," Killian said, admiring the old clunker like it was a work of art. "Managed to pawn it off of my brother Liam."
Emma smiled. She knew Liam; everyone knew Liam. Tall and stoic, the perfect gentleman with a fierce protective streak for the younger brother who he had cared for since their dad left last year.
"So, he's letting you borrow it?" she asked.
"Oh no, I mean it's mine now. Ever since Liam decided to become master of the seas, he apparently has little need for the type of transportation that gets you around on land. Thinks his boat is the only way worth moving. Although I'm not sure how practical it is at getting him from our house to the grocery store, if I'm being honest with you. But you don't hear me complaining," Killian laughed.
"Do you sail with him often?" Emma questioned, a glimmer in her eye.
"Oh yeah, all the time," said Killian. "He likes to call me his lieutenant. An awfully embarrassing nickname, but I guess it's better than him referring to me as "Little Brother" everywhere we go, especially now that I am nearly as tall as he is."
They were pulling up to the Storybrooke Ice Cream Parlor, a staple stop for any young person out on the town. Killian had been stressing all week about where to take someone as enchanting as Emma, and Liam, who had had enough of all the pacing and ear scratching and nervous twitching had demanded they go there.
Emma's eyes lit up as the pulled into a spot. Thanks for the advice, brother. "God, I love their chocolate swirl cones here."
"Then a chocolate swirl cone you should have, my fine lady," Killian said as he exited the truck with a dramatic sweeping bow. Way to let your dork show. But Emma was laughing, so with a blush he took off, flashing a smile at Ruby, the girl serving up cones tonight.
Ruby looked over his shoulder when he asked for two cones, settling her gaze on Emma in his car and sending him a mischievous smirk.
"Behave yourself, Little Brother," she laughed, throwing her red-tinted locks over one shoulder.
Should've known Liam would send one of his faithful band of ruffians out to check in on me. He shot Ruby a glare before walking back to the truck, where Emma had settled herself into the back of the bed.
"Hope you don't mind sitting out here, I saw the sun was about to set and didn't want to miss the view," she said, flashing another startlingly smile his way in thanks as he handed over her frosty treaty, which she seemed intent on guarding with her life.
"Not a bother, love, it's one of the best views in town, in my humble opinion." The line would have come out a lot more casual if he didn't spend the whole time watching the colors of the sunset dance along her golden hair, making it painfully obvious that he was referring to a different view.
Emma just smiled and he started to relax, launching into a story about one of the many times Liam and him had had to use the dwindling rays of light at sunset to navigate back to port after losing track of time at sea. She told him about picnics with her parents, days spent eating confections baked by her mother and re-enacting her favorite fairytales on a hillside with her father.
Killian laughed, trying to juxtapose that image with the protective bear of a man that had been on the front lawn. Ever the enigma, that David Nolan.
Just as they were finishing up, a shadowed figure headed towards them, obscured by the angle of the sun. As his face came in to sight, Killian felt Emma shrink a little next to him.
"Not now," he heard her mutter.
Neal Cassidy came sauntering into view, a hardened look in his eye as he seemed to be taking time to examine the scene in front of him, like it was a puzzle that need solving. His lips curled into a sneer, and by the slightly glazed look in his eyes Killian could tell he wasn't quite all there.
Killian knew Emma and Neal had been together at some point. Everyone knew that story. But all of a sudden they weren't, and despite the thick grapevine of gossip planted firmly throughout Storybrooke, no one ever seemed to know the real reason why. Just one day they were together, then the next Neal was latched onto his group of friends and Emma was walking the halls alone, blond hair parted in a way to shield herself from everyone's questioning eyes. For a week, it was all anyone could gossip about, but then Aurora came out of her coma after months in the hospital and everyone was on to the next story.
Everyone except Killian. He found himself even more mesmerized by the Nolan girl, wanting to heal whatever scars he had glimpsed under the stony demeanor she began to adopt. He slowly started speaking to her more in class, slowing his walk down the halls to match her stride and coax a smile out of her when he thought she needed it most. For a while he wouldn't admit it, but he slowly realized he needed those smiles too. Those smiles that gave him an undefinable feeling of hope, those smiles that led him to this night in Emma's company. This night that was about to go rapidly south if Cassidy's presence wasn't soon dealt with.
Killian hopped out of the bed of the truck, approaching Neal with a calm but hardened expression.
"How's it going, Cassidy?"
Neal smirked, and Killian felt his jaw clench in anticipation of what he was about to say. Neal looked over Killian's shoulder, gaze narrowing in on Emma.
"Can't help but notice you got my sloppy seconds, Jones," he jeered. "You really think she needs someone with a bum of a father to come around and act like some poor sap of a knight in shining armor?"
Killian's hand closed into a fist by his side. Screw good form, he thought. Liam would understand this was a circumstance worth putting his chivalrous manners aside.
But before he could raise his fist to knock the infuriating smirk off Neal's face, he felt a smaller form swing down next to him, and Cassidy was on the ground, rolling around and clutching his nose. Killian turned, bewildered, and saw Emma flexing her knuckles.
"God, he just never knows when to shut up, does he?" she murmured. "C'mon, let's get out of here," she sighed, grabbing Killian's hand and pulling him back to the truck.
He barely had time to reflect on the fact their fingers were entwined before she pulled away, running around to the other side and hopping into the passenger seat. Killian swung the car out of the parking lot, watching in the rearview mirror as Neal's gang of goons started gathering around their collapsed leader.
"That was amazing lass!" Killian laughed. "You're bloody brilliant." He looked over just soon enough to catch the lost look in Emma's eyes, before a triumphant spark brought the green orbs back to life.
"That was a pretty good swing, wasn't it?" she said, smiling softly.
"I would think twice before getting on your bad side," Killian grinned back, pulling into her driveway and shutting off the headlights. He turned to Emma, unsure of what to say after such a perfect night was marred in its final minutes by her oaf of an ex. He wanted to assure her that everything Neal said about her was completely untrue, that nothing in her past would ever take away from the life she brought to him every time she smiled his way. But just as he was about to open his mouth, Killian noticed red and blue lights reflecting off her features, and turned around, peering off down the road they just turned off of.
"Oh god!" Emma sighed. "That's Sheriff Graham. I bet Neal went whining to his wonderful father and now I am going to be in huge trouble."
Killian watched her face crumble, and a new determination struck him. There was no way in hell he was going to let Neal continue to ruin Emma's life, especially not tonight. Before he could second guess his next actions, he threw the truck in reverse and backed out of the driveway. But before he could peel off down the road, away from the flashing lights, Emma's father came tearing out onto the front lawn, wielding the weapon Emma had earlier insisted was merely for decorative purposes.
"Looks like your father bloody well knows how to handle that sword, love," Killian yelled over his shoulder, only to find Emma already leaning out her window.
"Seriously, dad, put the sword down before you hurt yourself," she admonished. "I'm fine, we'll just be back a little later than expected!" And with that she launched herself back in the car, a fierce look lighting up her face, giving Killian the go-ahead to take off.
They peeled off down the road, Emma leaning her head out the window to see the cop lights fading in the distance. Killian, meanwhile, was white-knuckled at the steering wheel, imagining all the ways this heat-of-the-moment decision could come back to haunt him. Oh my God, Liam is going to end me. But one look at the smile on Emma's face, the way it stretched far wider than any he has seen her flash before, managed to calm his nerves a bit.
She pointed out a small dirt path up ahead and he followed it down into the woods, stopping just before they hit the river that wound its way through town. Killian climbed out of the car and started to inspect the frame, searching for sword marks—There is absolutely no way Liam is going to believe this story—convinced Mr. Nolan had tried to take a swing at him. Satisfied that he had either used the sword as a blind threat, or that perhaps his aim was shoddy at best, Killian turned around, expecting Emma to just be getting out of the cab. Instead, he saw her down by the water, balancing precariously as she picked her way out onto a log that had fallen across the river.
"Lass, I don't know if that's the safest thing to be doing right now!" Killian called out. Of course, his voice startled her, and next thing he knew she was tumbling into the river. Really, Killian? He tore off toward the riverbank, just as Emma stood up and tried to pull the water from her hair, laughing at her own clumsiness.
Now she really looked the part of the siren that had bewitched him day in and day out in high school, her long hair glowing silver in the moonlight that peeked through the trees. He found himself pulled to the water's edge, sucked in by her beauty and his concern over her state of well-being. Before he could see if she was alright, she dove back under the water, and then he felt a tug on his ankle. Next thing Killian knew, he was submerged as well, water seeping into his flannel shirt and weighing down his shoes.
He broke through the surface with a sputter, and saw Emma staring back at him, a mischievous glint in her eye as her mouth curled into a smirk.
"It's your fault I ended up like this, did you really think I would let you stay all dry up on the edge with that puppy dog pout on your face?"
Killian couldn't help the shocked look on his face, one that quickly evolved into a full-blown laugh.
"I have to warn you love, I know I have touted myself to be quite the gentleman, but there is a fair bit of pirate in me, and our kind don't take lightly those who cross us."
He jumped on Emma, pulling her underwater again as she yelped in surprise and then feigned anger. They went back and forth, throwing barbs until they both eventually crawled up onto the bank, spreading out along the damp grass and willing the cool night air to dry their clothes.
Killian turned toward Emma and found her sprawled on her back, eyes closed with her face turned up towards the glow of the moonlight. For a second he just watched her, feeling something was perched on the tip of her tongue. Slowly, she poked one eye open, turning toward him as wet strands of her hair fell over her forehead. He reached out and tucked the errant strands behind her ear.
A fleeting smile graced her lips, before she sighed and locked eyes with him. "I'm sorry about Neal," she breathed. Killian opened his mouth to tell her there was nothing to apologize for, but before he could speak more words were tumbling out of her mouth.
"Everyone always expects me to be perfect, the little princess of Storybrooke's crowning couple. I love my parents, but sometimes it's just so damn hard to try to live up to the glowing bubble that is their life. That's why even when Neal left me, threw me out like yesterday's news after he learned that maybe the life he had planned wasn't the life I always dreamed of, I had to act like it didn't affect me at all. Stroybrooke's little princess can't be brought down by something so simple as a teenage love affair. And of course Mom, champion of first loves, loves to insist it's just a phase, a rough spot all couples go through. She can't seem to see that maybe he just wasn't the one. Dad on the other hand would rather I just remain his baby girl forever."
While she talked, Killian watched as she pulled a flower from the ground, twirling it around in her hands and tugging petals off to calm her twitching fingers. She put the flower down, gazing back into his eyes once again, her green ones pleading for understanding.
"I just, I can't fit the role everyone needs me to play. I can't be what everyone wants me to be without letting someone down. Or a lot of someones down. What is everyone going to think of me, of my family, when I undoubtedly fail?"
Killian saw the desperation in her eyes, the feeling that had gripped him at night for the past year, ever since that night his dad had crept out the back door and vanished from their lives without a trace. That feeling of never being enough, of needing to be so much more just to get everyone to stay.
"Well, I've yet to see you fail," he replied. "Everything I have ever seen you do, you have done with a grace unmatched by any other our age. You are so much more than the parameters set by those around you. And to the aspirations others set for you? Screw them. Neal's a git, and your parents will undoubtedly treasure you no matter where your life may lead. Your father may be a force I am hesitant to reckon with, but it's clear as day that he will love you no matter what you become. Besides, Emma, I've seen you take on this world, and I know there is little you couldn't do to make your mark."
He watched her eyes widen as he spoke, then narrow a bit, like she was looking for what he said to just be some line he fed to her to gain her trust in some deceptive manner. If only he knew how much passion he poured into those notions, how much he had wished someone had spoken those words to him as he hid his feelings every day from Liam, committed to not adding anything to his brother's growing burden of caring for some scraggly teenager when he should be hanging out with friends, doing the other things kids his age got to do.
After what felt like a century, the haze of mistrust cleared from her eyes, and Killian breathed out softly, not realizing his body had frozen waiting for this moment. Without a word, she stood and brushed off her clothes, before turning and reaching out for his hand. He took it silently, letting her fingers intertwine with his as she pulled him toward his feet and carefully picked her way through the dark back to where his truck sat. She released her grip just long enough for him to open her door as she slid in, returning her hand to his once he had settled behind the wheel.
This time, when they pulled up to her house, there were no lights on inside. Killian breathed a soft sigh of relief. It's not like I'm scared of her father or anything, I'm just not quite equipped with the proper tools to duel for her hand, or honor, or whatever right now.
It's like Emma could read his mind, because she chuckled under her breath and said, "You know, my dad is really just a big teddy bear when you get to know him. It's my mom you have to worry about; she's really into all things archery. Even fashioned her own bow and everything."
Killian ducked instinctively, looking out at the darkened trees in the yard, sure an arrow was about to come crashing through his windshield at any second.
"I'm kidding Killian!" Emma snorted, then covered her mouth like she was embarrassed of her laugh. Killian looked around, trying to act like he wasn't cowering in the first place.
Emma turned to him hesitantly at that point, and he saw something flicker in her eyes, like she was bracing herself.
"I had a really great time tonight," she said. "I would, I would love to do it again sometime if you wanted."
He saw it then, saw her eyes shutter over, her posture stiffen as she waited for his dismissal. He knew that she was already preparing to shrug it off, hop out of the car like nothing had hurt her. She would walk into the house head held high, tell her father she had a good time when he undoubtedly emerged from the shadows Killian knew he was agitatedly pacing in. He knew she would wait, wait until she was behind her closed bedroom door, locked away from everyone before she would let any emotion show, let her cracks break through for just a moment before she closed the feelings off from even herself.
He knew she thought he would say goodbye, because that's what happens when you show people you don't fit into the cookie cutter mold of small town life. He thought back on the night, on dad's with affinities for medieval weaponry, hot-tempered ex-boyfriends with a chip on their shoulder, flashing police lights and high-speed getaways. He felt the water still squishing in his shoes, which were probably ruined forever.
He thought of her smile, the way the freckles on her collarbone slid in and out of view under the strap of her white tank top. He thought of her laugh, the way her green eyes lit up when he told her about his adventures with Liam.
And without another thought, the words slipped easily out of his mouth.
"Emma Nolan, it would be my honor to partake in another night out on the town with you."