Okay this chapter is mostly just setting the stage for the next one, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway :) let the banter begin! All rights/characters belong to OUAT.
Emma was extremely displeased and extravagantly annoyed at the way her confrontation across the street threw off the entire day, but even more frustrated with the amount of fondant she'd lost to her furious hands and inability to concentrate. She hated how he did this to her. Killian Jones was the worst. She had been so angry yet deflated by the time she left the floral shop that she wanted nothing more than to get back into the groove of creating edible flowers for the gala cupcakes, but no - it wouldn't be that easy at all.
"Dammit," Emma sighed, tossing a fifth screwed up blossom into the trash. "What the hell is wrong with me today?"
"Well if I didn't know better, I'd say your interaction with Killian this morning might have something to do with it."
Emma had been mumbling the question to herself, but a slam of the bakery's back door told her that Ruby had an opinion to share on the matter. Emma's hands worked the doughy sugar in front of her, trying to appear nonchalant in regards to the statement Killian's estranged niece had just shared.
"Why would you think that?"
"Uh, duh, Emma," Ruby answered, arching her eyebrows in an are-you-serious-right-now manner. "You two should see yourselves when you're all worked up like that. It's like sexual tension you could cut with a very dull knife."
Emma's expression slid into a mix of shock and speculation. She wondered if other people thought the way Ruby did. She wondered if the girl had also taken it upon herself to share this observation with Killian. God, the last thing she needed was another innuendo induced reason for him to flirt with her.
"Hardly," Emma said, a scoff leaving her lips. "The only tension between your incorrigible uncle and me is the kind that makes me want to punch him in the face."
"Whatever you have to tell yourself, Emma."
"Is there a reason for your condescending visit, Ms. Lucas?"
"Oh you know me," Ruby said, picking up a spatula to twirl in her hand. "Just dropping by to see what the cupcake of the day is and to ask you about the gala tomorrow."
"It's double chocolate," Emma said, looking up from her work. "What about the gala?"
"Well, I know you're doing the dessert catering and I will be there helping Killian with the arrangements," she explained knowingly. "So I-"
"I didn't know you guys were doing the flowers."
"Umm, yeah," Ruby said with an interesting grin. "Killian apparently had an in with someone."
Well that figures, Emma thought smugly.
"So anyway," Ruby continued. "I'm going to Boston late tomorrow night to pick up my boyfriend from the airport - he's visiting from medical school - but the mayor wants a few of the vendors and apparently the caterers to stay and help shut the town hall down afterwards. I offered to do it since it's going to be Killian's birthday-"
"It's his birthday tomorrow?"
Ruby nodded with a weak smile. Whoa. There was definitely more to it than that. Emma could see some strange emotion lingering below the surface of the girl's eyes, but she didn't want to appear too curious. She quickly dipped her brush in the shiny luster and began to apply accents to her not too bad flower. She tried to listen very attentively without looking too intrigued.
"He isn't really big on celebrating," Ruby said with a shrug. "I guess that's why he thought it would be a good idea to work all night - a nice distraction or something."
Emma briefly admired this understanding relationship Killian clearly had with his niece. She didn't know much about their situation - only that he'd taken Ruby in during her last three years of school and once she turned eighteen, she moved out but kept up her employment at Fairytale Floral.
That truly was a terrible name for a charming flower shop owned by a man like...that. Adjectives were not and would never be her strong suit when it came to Killian Jones.
"So are you going to be staying late afterwards to help?"
"Well, nobody asked me so I hadn't planned on it," Emma shrugged, her tongue in her cheek. "But why does it feel like you're asking me to do just that?"
Ruby smiled cheekily, her big eyes looking ridiculously hopeful. Of course - she wanted Emma to do her a solid and cover so she could frolic to the big city at an earlier hour.
"Ugh, what do I have to do?"
"Just help take down the flowers and clean up food - just the basics," Ruby said matter-of-factly. "Killian will be there too so you guys can probably knock the whole thing out pretty fast."
Emma froze for a minute. She'd be spending the task-oriented after party with the birthday boy? The thought made her shift on the sturdy stool.
"Fine. But next time I have less than pleasant business with your boss, I'll expect you to back me up," Emma said thoughtfully. "I'm assuming you might have other business here?"
"Of course," Ruby smiled, perking up. "I just need one for today."
Emma nodded with a small laugh, shaking her head. It was normally a task she'd ask Anna to do - packaging up a daily cupcake for a local patron. For some reason in this moment, Emma just felt inclined to do it herself. She let her mind drift to Killian as she popped open two small boxes, flattening the bottom on each one. She had to wonder what had been going through his mind when he decided to take on such a huge event on his own day of milestones. Emma wasn't big on birthdays herself, but working alone all night raised some red flags - even in her mind.
"Oh, hey Emma," Anna said, surprised as she walked toward the register after checking on a customer. "You know, I'd be happy to get those boxed up for you if you'd like?"
Ah, sweet guilt with a side of needy redemption, Emma thought to herself.
"No, it's all good. I, uh...I got it."
She wasn't sure when she'd gotten so protective of simple pastries, but as she placed the first cupcake in the box and sealed it with the bakery's logo sticker, she realized that she had a definite purpose in procuring the additional sweet treat. She wrapped it up similarly, but before she shut the lid of the little container, an idea sprang to life in her mind. She wandered around to the other side of the register, skimming her fingers across several retail items they kept there for impulsive purchases. When she found it, she bit her bottom lip to conceal her satisfied grin.
It was just a single blue candle - one that hung with the select few others off a shallow hook - but she wondered how it would look sunken into the surface of the cupcake. Perhaps not too flashy at all.
Moving quickly, she unwrapped it and pushed it carefully through the thick frosting into the desired place. It wasn't anything grand or thoughtful - just a nice thing she could do for someone who was having a birthday the following day. Hell, she would have done the same thing for a five year old or a senior citizen pushing eighty who happened to swing by to celebrate or despair in being a year older. It was not special treatment - no, not for him.
She tried to appear unfazed as she walked the boxes to the back room, setting them on the surface closest to Ruby. The girl looked puzzled at first, obviously confused by the doubled order. Emma bit her lip and tried to resume her work under Ruby's all too suddenly enlightened expression.
"It's, uh," Emma tried. "On the house - and tell him not to read too much into it. We are not friends again yet."
"You guys as friends? Now that's a wild idea."
Ruby gathered the boxes and smirked in a taunting way as she made her way to the door. Emma's mind raced at how she'd gone from screaming at the florist next door one minute to agreeing to be his partner in crime for the gala deconstruction the next.
The only thing she knew for sure was that Killian Jones was sure turning out to be quite the elaborate distraction.
The next morning, Emma opened the bakery herself in an attempt to hash out any last minute details before starting the fondant flower migration to the gala location. She went out to change the cupcake of the day flavor on the sidewalk sign to salted caramel, annoyed at the use of the outdated chalk in advertising as she watched the dust cling to her jeans. Stepping into the daylight, her eyes were quickly drawn to the shipment being unloaded across the street. The colors were bright - yellows and whites with a few scattered shades of a blazing almost orange. They were gorgeous and not recognizing any of the delivery men, Emma allowed herself a moment to gaze at the natural beauty.
Killian: It's rude to stare, Swan.
The ding of a text message came from her pocketed cellphone and the screen told her that somehow, he'd spied her anyway. Her fingers flew across the keys as she cursed the day he'd obtained her phone number.
Emma: At the pretty flowers? That seems highly irrational.
Killian made himself now obviously visible, hopping down from the back of the delivery truck to the sidewalk with his phone still in hand. He was almost instantly approached by one of the men who'd been carrying the blossoms into the shop and he set about signing the several pages he usually had to.
His shirt was flannel - a blue and black plaid with the sleeves rolled up. The straight leg jeans he wore were faded and fitted. Emma grinned subtly at his choice of classic sneakers - solid black with the white laces. Her eyes ran along the structure of his frame and the flush of his skin. Even from a distance, there wasn't much of a way to deny his fine physical appearance.
Killian: Irrational or not, you are sure doing it a lot, love.
In the midst of worshipping the physique of her annoying neighbor, Emma had failed to notice the way his gaze moved back to her from under hooded eyes and arched eyebrows.
Emma: Don't flatter yourself. What's blooming in your greenhouse of iniquity over there today?
Killian: Forsythias. Just imported actually. They're for the audacious celebration tonight - the one I've heard you'll be attending?
Emma: I've heard a similar rumor about you.
She figured it best not to bring up the birthday thing. It was clearly a sensitive subject in some way - she had no clue but a strong inclination to figure out why.
Killian: Yes - it would appear that fortune has chosen to favor you with my company, darling.
Emma: Oh please. The only lucky occurrence will be if I can make it through the evening without hitting you with one of those wooden flower crates.
Killian laughed visibly at her technological wit as he gave her a smoldering, sexy smile - one she'd seen many times. Yet it was only now that she began to truly examine it - the curve and color of his lips, the tiny flash of teeth, the sultry dimples. She was probably imagining most of those details since he was a loading dock away and her vision wasn't exactly twenty-twenty. It didn't stop her from catching the blatant, obscene wink he shot her way before typing his final message.
Killian: I will look forward to seeing you and your lack of violence tonight, Emma.
She shook her head to hide her blushed cheeks and stomped back inside. How was she now a mix of anxiety and strange possibility? God, this was so dumb.
Later as she twiddled her thumbs and waited for August to arrive with the truck, she found herself looking up a brief history of the forsythia flower. It wasn't popular and she was simply curious - well, at least that's how she justified it to herself.
She surfed a few sites regarding the symbolism behind the blossom, but every page said the same thing - a flower representing excited anticipation.
As far as coincidences go, that one just seemed all too ironic.
