Killian stood there for a moment as Emma and Scully walked off. Emma Swan. What was it about that woman that left him flushed and flustered? At least he'd managed to have a coherent conversation with her this time and-he hoped-displayed a little bit of charm. Killian chuckled to himself over Emma's response to his thank you for moving the plants. Dare he hope that this was a bit of flirtation? His beautiful neighbor was still maddeningly mysterious, but Killian was more than willing to investigate.
He spent the afternoon at Hook, Line and Sinker's offices with Liam as they scheduled client sailing lessons, confirmed tour dates and hashed out the roster for sailing on both River Jewel, the 74-foot schooner on which they gave their tours, and Pirate's Plunder, the small sailboat that they used for lessons, for the next month. When he returned home at 7 PM, he noticed that Emma's car was gone. He idly wondered where she was-on a date, errands, work? He didn't even know what she did for work-just that it apparently involved odd hours.
Later than night, Killian and Mr. Smee returned from a walk and came upon Emma, dressed in a spectacular-and spectacularly short-red dress that was strapless, hugged her curves and rested quite a few inches above her knees, gingerly extricating herself from her car. She limped slightly and appeared to be bruised and scraped.
Alarmed, Killian approached her.
"Swan? You alright? What happened?"
"Just a dirtbag who didn't know when to quit," Emma said with disgust.
In reply to Killian's inquiring and slightly concerned look, she explained.
"I'm a bail bondsperson and I had a 'date' (she made air quote signs with her fingers) with one of my skips, and he ran when I pulled out my cuffs."
"Well that's just bad form. I can assure you Swan, that I would never run should you ever want to use your cuffs on me," Killian said cheekily.
Emma snorted and rolled her eyes.
"ANYway...His car was booted, so he couldn't really go anywhere, but I still had to chase him to lock him down. He threw a few obstacles in my way," she explained. "So yeah, a few bumps and bruises-I've had worse."
Killian could see numerous scrapes, some already blooming multicolored bruises and what looked like a very painful ankle-possibly sprained.
"You're a tough lass," he said with appreciation. "However, dare I suggest that I help you up your stairs? I think it's going to be quite the challenge."
"You don't…"
"Swan, I know you could use the help, and this is what neighbors do," Killian said. "Why don't you give me your keys and I can put Mr. Smee inside so he doesn't cause us to capsize."
She handed over her keys while eyeing him with a bit of suspicion.
"I don't know about this-we've only just met."
"Oh please, love. I've seen your reserved, cautious and oh so slightly suspicious personality and you've known my name for several days. That in addition to what I now know that you do for a living makes me think that you've surely already run a background check on me," Killian said. "Being an upstanding bloke, I'm sure I passed with flying colors."
Emma's jumped slightly with what looked like surprise.
"What? I don't ..." she sputtered.
Killian ignored her denial and threw her a faintly superior look as he continued: "So come over here and lean on this stair rail while I take Mr. Smee inside."
He jogged up the stairs, unlocked and opened the front door to find Scully, who greeted him with an enthusiastic welcome dance. He smiled and laughed delightedly.
"Hello little lass! I'm bringing your mum up in a minute. You and Mr. Smee go have fun for a bit, yeah?"
He unhooked Mr. Smee's leash and the two dogs raced off to the TV room.
"Traitor!" yelled Emma with a laugh from her position at the bottom of the steps.
"OK, Swan, here we go," Killian said as he put her arm around his shoulders. His pulse jumped a bit when she put one arm around his waist.
They limped up and into the house. Killian carefully navigated them toward the living room couch, where he eased Emma down into a sitting position.
"You should elevate that leg, love," Killian said.
He spotted a footstool in front of a chair tucked in the corner and dragged it over. That settled, he surveyed her battered state. The damage looked worse in the brightly lit house, but was still probably only in need of a bit of first aid.
"Let's take a look at your other injuries. I assume you have a first-aid kit?" he asked briskly.
"Jones, you don't have to do this. I'm not some damsel in distress," Emma said, leaning forward as if to rise and tend to her injuries herself.
Killian made calming motions with his hands.
"Swan, believe me, I would never mistake you as such. Like I said-you're a tough lass. But just let someone help you once in awhile. Try something new, darling. It's called trust," Killian said gently.
"OK, OK," Emma grumbled. "The first aid kit is on the top shelf of the bathroom cabinet."
"Back in a tic, love."
Killian made it to the bathroom and back quickly. He knelt down beside Emma to examine her ankle. Her hair glowed softly in the light, the shadows under her eyes almost, but not quite, obscuring the green of her eyes. Despite her fierce exertions, the scent of her perfume lingered-bright and citrusy.
He couldn't help but play the tease a bit.
"Quite the lovely leg you have there, Swan," he said.
Emma scowled at him.
"I'm referring to your colorful bruises, of course," he said with a smirk.
She rolled her eyes and said, "Are you going to make me regret letting you help, Jones?"
"Of course not love. That would be bad form," he said. "I promise not to notice or comment on anything but your injuries-not even how you look in that bloody amazing red dress. First aid only."
Killian gave her a saucy grin and then bent over her leg with an innocent air.
Despite his sincere resolution to concentrate solely on his task, Killian's body was starting to hum. Focus, mate, he warned himself.
"I think I just turned it," Emma said. "I have experience with sprains, believe me."
"Looks like you're right, but you should probably wrap it just for tonight," Killian said. "And ice it-any cold packs?"
"Yeah, I've always got a few on hand in the freezer," Emma said.
Killian went into the kitchen. As he opened the freezer he was briefly tempted to stick his head in to cool off. All flirting aside, he wasn't helping Emma just to see her legs or get in her pants-he was genuinely concerned. But his body hadn't got the Florence-Nightingale-duty-only memo. Killian felt warm all over, his blood starting to head south. He clutched an ice pack and visualized every non-sexy thing he could think of. The smell of Liam's feet. That time Scarlett mooned him. Falling off a sailboat and into cold water (Yes! cooling thoughts, cooling thoughts).
Having tamped down his lust, Killian headed back to the living room. He handed Emma the ice pack.
"You know what to do," he said. "Now let me take a look at these abrasions."
"Such a gentleman," Emma said teasingly, as she took the pack and held it to her ankle.
"Oh, I'm always a gentleman, love," he said, raising an eyebrow as he knelt before her again.
He gently applied disinfectant to the scrapes on her shins and knees and applied a few plasters. Killian was disconcerted to see another scrape-this one dangerously located mere centimeters below her hemline. Steadying his hands, he carefully tended to it.
Oh God, not again, he thought, as his temperature rose.
He desperately visualized cold water, the Queen naked, anything else but slipping his hands up underneath Emma's skirt. Carefully, but quickly, he applied the last plaster and stood up.
Emma picked up the sports wrap and wound it around her ankle.
"Um, that was really nice of you, Killian. Thank you," she said, somewhat stiffly. (still-she called him Killian, he thought excitedly)
She cleared her throat.
"You should at least have a beer as a thank you. You can get me one while you're there."
"Oh, I see, Swan," Killian said with a fake pout. "Offering me beer is just a ploy to get me to bring you one."
"That's not the only reason-but it's definitely a benefit," Emma said, teasingly.
Killian's heart sped up at how cute Swan looked when she was teasing him.
Killian's heart sped up even more at the thought of spending a little time with her.
"I'm going to change into something more comfortable," she said, getting up unsteadily and turning toward the stairs.
"Swan," Killian said. "How are you going to get up those stairs?"
"My ankle is wrapped, I've taken some ibuprofen and the ankle is improving already. I can make it up there on my own," Emma said.
Killian sighed internally. Bloody stubborn woman!
"Greatly improved in just 10 minutes?" he asked skeptically. "I think not."
Emma gave him a rebellious look.
"Let me at least help you up to the landing. However alluring I might find the possibility of seeing your bedroom, I promise not to intrude," Killian said, with a flirty raise of an eyebrow.
He could see her struggling to come up with another argument. And failing.
"Fine, fine," Emma said. "You can carry my pillow and blanket downstairs since I guess I'm not allowed to go upstairs to sleep, Doctor Jones."
Her slightly snarky look was absolutely adorable, Killian thought.
"I'm glad you've started to see reason, Swan." he said, smirking. "Now hop to it."
She glared at him.
Killian placed her arm around his waist and his arm on her slowly made their way up the stairs. He deposited her on the landing.
"Now where is the extra pillow and blanket, love?" he asked.
"In the linen closet by the stairs," Emma said. "Am I allowed to go in my room now, Doctor?"
"Proceed," Killian said, smiling. "But don't try to come downstairs by yourself. I'll be back in a few minutes."
Grabbing the pillow and blanket, he headed toward the stairs.
"TV or living room couch?" he asked as he he made his way downward.
"TV room," she yelled.
Killian put the pillow and blanket down on the couch and headed to the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Emma was having a bit of a freakout.
Oh God, he was in her house! Hot as Fuck neighbor (he was no longer just a Hot Ass) Killian Jones was in her house, Emma thought a bit frantically, as she pulled out some loose pants and a shirt. Dying to get out of the dress, she quickly lifted it over her head and set it aside for dry cleaning as her thoughts ran on a single track loop: hot neighbor in the house, hot neighbor in the house, hot-neighbor-that-I am-attracted-to in the house.
She threw on the comfortable clothes and sat down on her bed in an attempt to regain her equilibrium. It was actually pretty sweet of him to help her out like this, but damn, the tingling sensation from earlier today had gone into overdrive, she thought. And the lower body sensations she felt as he worked his way up her leg? Emma didn't even want to examine her response or its possible meaning.
His hands were so warm and gentle, she mused, unconsciously biting her lower lip. But she was definitely not imagining those hands on her body or thinking about how his scruff looked in the light as he knelt before her. Or how she could have traced it along the line of his jaw, her fingers lightly dancing across his skin. Nope. Also not envisioning scruff burns on her face...and other places.
Who was she kidding? She was definitely thinking that. She groaned.
You can do this. You can act like a normal, totally-not-attracted-to-him person, she thought to herself. Just stop picturing him naked. Stop picturing him at all. Focus on the pain, focus on anything else than Killian Jones.
"Swan?" the man himself called from the kitchen, breaking into her thoughts.
"Yeah?"
I'm going to take our beers into your TV room if that's OK? I thought we could sit with the dogs."
She smiled to herself with relief. Hang out with the dogs. Surely that would help her change her focus.
"OK!" she yelled back.
"And I hope you're decent, because I'm coming up to help you down."
"Yeah, yeah," she said, hauling herself up off the bed and out to the landing.
Killian jogged up the stairs and smiled brightly at her.
"Off you go," he said, arranging their arms like had before.
They headed down the stairs and into the TV room. Emma had to admit that she would have found it hard to navigate the stairs on her own. Not that she was going to tell him that. Cocky bastard. Sweet cocky bastard.
He carefully led her over to the toward the arm chair, gently placing her in it. She lifted up her leg and put it on the footstool and looked over at Killian. Dammit! He was bent over a side table where he had placed the beers. There was That Ass again. And those jeans weren't making her resolution to not think about Killian Jones any easier.
Killian turned and held a bottle out. "Your beer, milady?"
"Milady?" Emma snorted. "What is that, gentleman pirate speak?"
"I am indeed always a gentleman, Swan."
"And a pirate?"
"Are you asking about my pillaging and plundering, love?"
"No!" Emma said defensively.
"It's OK, Swan," Killian said, leering playfully. "I can understand why you'd be interested in the activities of someone as devilishly handsome as I."
"You're ridiculous," Emma retorted.
"I am wounded! After my careful ministrations…" he said with a sigh, shaking his head.
"Thank you for getting me in the house and taking care of my injuries Jones," she said, mouth curved in a half smile.
"My pleasure, Swan. It's the least I can do after your unfortunate encounter with such a scoundrel," Killian said with a half bow and a hand flourish. Smiling, he sat down on Emma's couch.
Scully ran over to the chair and stood on her back feet expectantly.
"Oh, so now you want to see me?" Emma said with a laugh. "Come on up girl."
She leaned down and scooped Scully up and onto her lap.
Mr. Smee promptly jumped up onto the couch with Killian.
"Mr. Smee! Get down! Bad form," he said.
"Oh, don't worry about it. Scully sits up there all the time," Emma said.
"Thank you, Swan," Killian said, side-eyeing his dog. "It's still rude to assume, Mr. Smee."
Mr. Smee sighed, gave Killian an aggrieved look and settled himself comfortably on the sofa, with his head resting on his paws.
"So, Swan. Is the bail bonds business always this brutal?" Killian asked, taking a swig from his beer.
"It can be," she said. "But a lot of it is pretty boring: long stakeouts, following people around and online searches."
"And catfishing?" Killian asked with a teasing smile.
"And catfishing," Emma acknowledged. "It's actually a pretty good way to flush some of these guys out-usually without a fight."
She leaned back into the chair, sipping her beer. Scully was sprawled on her back over Emma's legs, enjoying a good belly rub. It was soothing to the poodle-and Emma. Exhaustion washed over her.
Killian looked over at her.
"You look knackered, love, and no surprise-quite the evening. I shouldn't have forced you to entertain me."
"That's OK," she said with a yawn. "Oops. No really, I thought I should at least give you a beer. It was...nice of you to help out."
"Anytime, Swan," Killian said, throwing her a wink as he rose to his feet.
"Well Mr. Smee, we'd best depart for home-and bed-I've got an early morning," he said.
Turning to Emma he explained: "I'm teaching my first sailing lessons of the season tomorrow."
"Oh, right-your sailing company," she said.
Killian raised one of his eyebrows, and smirked.
"See-I knew you ran a background check! That's why you didn't even react earlier when I said I was a captain."
Emma flushed.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, almost primly.
Killian laughed.
"I'll let you off the hook for tonight, Swan. As you can see, I've put the pillow and blanket on the arm here. I also left you my number tacked up on the refrigerator-just in case you need anything," he said casually.
"Thank you, Doctor," Emma said, teasingly.
She followed him out to the door.
"Goodnight, Swan."
"Goodnight, Jones-and Mr. Smee," she said, bending down to stroke the dog's head.
Scully whined in disappointment.
"Good night little lass. I'm sure we'll see you out for walk soon-or in the window," Killian said with a knowing look.
Emma rolled her eyes as she watched them go out the door. After shutting it and locking it, she limped into the kitchen for a glass of water and then eased herself down onto the arm chair again.
"Scully, did we really just spend an hour with our incredibly hot neighbor?" she asked. Scully just looked at her.
Emma had a hard time letting anyone help her, but she had to admit that Killian's concern felt good. He might be a slightly cocky flirt, but deep down it seemed he was sweet and very thoughtful.
He's the kind of guy who sticks around, a little voice whispered in her head.
Emma sighed and started getting ready for bed. It had been a long night, but her time with Killian had left her...distracted. She wasn't sure how much sleep she was actually going to get.
Killian paused for a moment on Emma's front walk to savor the difference between tonight and Tuesday night. Not only had he made it in the front door-he'd done it with his arm around the
elusive Lady Swan's waist. His offer to help was not some sleazy scheme to feel up his gorgeous neighbor, but that didn't mean he hadn't enjoyed being close to her. Emma Swan was stubborn, maddeningly aloof, outrageously sexy and gave as good as she got. It was exhilarating. She was beautiful and fiercely intelligent and... Killian shook his head and laughed. He was so fascinated and downright besotted that he was in danger of becoming a stammering git again. But after tonight, he honestly didn't care. All he could think about was when he would see her again and what layers he might uncover when he did.
"We're quite the pair, aren't we Mr. Smee," Killian said ruefully. "Infatuated with the girls next door."
Mr. Smee wagged his tail.
"Let's go home, lad."
The next day was a Friday and Emma limped through it, happy to reach the end of a somewhat taxing week. By Friday evening she was ready for a break and a visit with her brother August. Well, he wasn't really her brother-at least not by blood-but they had spent time in the same foster homes, where they gravitated toward each other, each recognizing a fellow survivor and potential ally. Over the years, they'd kept in touch.
These days he could often be found working the bar at The Rabbit Hole, Emma's favorite local bar. The crowd there was vibrant but not trendy-or too big. Located in an old row house, the inside of the bar was all exposed brick walls and polished wood furnishings augmented by the odd couch or comfortable chair here and there in the corners or off to the side. The decorating scheme was a bit of a mishmash: a mix of vintage Italian advertisement prints on the walls peppered with decorative items that could have come straight out of a cheesy magic show, such as top hats, playing cards and of course, a white rabbit motif. It was quirky and cosy and not the least bit pretentious, which made it just perfect in her eyes.
After an afternoon of surveillance, Emma walked-a bit gingerly-the eight blocks from her house to the bar. It was one of August's nights behind the bar. She caught his eye as she walked in the door and he paused his conversation with one of the patrons to get her usual-a glass of the house red wine. Emma could almost taste the wine as she drew near the bar.
She was visualizing the bliss of resting her weary feet when she spotted Ass. Her body was flooded with heat as her pulse ticked up a notch. What was he doing here?
Killian had always liked The Rabbit Hole, but before moving had not come there frequently. Now that he lived in the neighborhood he was well on his way to making it his regular watering hole. Friday evening, he was perched comfortably at the bar with a quality pale ale when he heard her.
"Jones? What are you doing in my bar?" Emma asked suspiciously.
"Your bar, Swan? I had no idea I needed permission," Killian said, mockingly.
He leaned in close to Emma.
"Do I need a permit?" he asked, purposely popping the "t."
Killian watched with delight as Emma blushed. He leaned back and fixed her with a saucy look as he bit down on his lower lip.
"I was just surprised, that's all," she said defensively.
"It's my neighborhood now as well. Besides, I know the bartender," Killian said.
Emma gave him a startled look.
"You know August? How?"
"We played football together."
"You mean soccer," August said as he reappeared at their end of the bar, Emma's glass of wine in hand.
Killian snorted and rolled his eyes.
"No, you ponce, I mean football."
August just smirked.
"I see you've met my little sister," August said to Killian.
Sister? Little sister? He'd had a connection to Swan for three years and was just now meeting her?!
"Swan? Am I to understand that this git is your brother?" Killian asked.
"Foster brother, but yes. The 'git' and I were in a couple of group homes together."
So Swan was an orphan too.
She shifted from side to side, an almost imperceptible wince passing over her face. He suddenly realized that there were no empty seats at the bar.
"Swan. Take my seat."
Emma rolled her eyes.
"I'm not going to throw you out of your seat, Jones."
"Love, I know your ankle must still be vexing you, so I cannot sit while you stand. It's not good form."
He looked at Emma earnestly.
"But…" said Emma.
August cut in.
"Guys, guys. Why don't you move to somewhere you can both sit? Like over there in the corner?"
he said, pointing to two little couches. "I'll even give you table service myself."
The corner couches were perpendicular to each other. Killian and Emma each sat on one, their degree of physical proximity balancing on the hazy border between friendship and intimacy.
Killian raised his glass.
"To fellow orphans."
She started in surprise.
"You're an orphan too?"
Killian gave her a slightly sad smile.
"Aye. My father left us when I was 10 and then my mother died from cancer when I was 12," he said. "I was lucky enough to have an older brother, Liam, who was 18 at the time and so was able to take care of me. I gather you were not so lucky, love?"
Emma laughed ruefully.
"No. No, I wasn't. My parents left me beside the side of the road right after I was born. I was placed in the system and then a couple took me home intending to adopt me, but when I was about three, they had their own child, so they didn't want me anymore. After that I went from house to house until after I graduated from high school."
Killian didn't say anything-just took her hand and squeezed it. She could see sympathy in his eyes, but no pity.
"And things got better, I hope?" he asked.
"Eventually. I took quite the detour on the way," she said, a wry smile on her face. "Right after I graduated I started dating this guy-Neal. He was a bit older and he'd seen and done all these things I hadn't. It made him seem exciting and somehow worldly to a girl who'd never seen anything but the foster system.
"We lived out of our car and stole to survive. I'm not proud of it, but at the time I didn't see any other options. We were in love-or so I thought. And then he ran, leaving me holding watches he'd stolen. I went to jail for a year."
She saw a flash of anger cross Killian's face.
"In some ways it was good for me. I took some online pre-college courses while I was in there and managed to find a partial scholarship-for 'troubled youth.' At college I met two of my best friends-Mary Margaret and David. They're like family-sometimes almost too much so. David, in particular, is very protective. He takes his role of older brother-although we're the same age-pretty seriously," Emma laughed.
"And that's the story of little orphan Emma."
Emma exhaled-she'd be unconsciously holding her breath-and watched Killian carefully, curious to see how he would react. She rarely told anyone about her past. Not that she was ashamed of it. Just guarded and wary of letting people see too much. In fact she was surprised at how quickly she'd started to let Killian in.
He looked at her, something warm and tender in his eyes.
"Swan, you are extraordinary."
Emma blushed with pleasure.
"You're exaggerating," she said, with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"I assure you love, you have my complete admiration."
Something that felt a lot like happiness bubbled up in her chest.
August came by with another round. After placing the drinks down on the table, he picked up the blown glass globe in the center of the table and lit the candle within.
"Just a little mood lighting," he said, shooting Emma significant look. She narrowed her eyes at him.
"Thanks, August. I think we're good for now," she said meaningfully, inclining her head away from the table.
"Aye, thanks mate. Much obliged." Killian said with a smile.
"Alright guys, you know where to find me…" August said as he turned to walk away.
Emma just shook her head-half amused, half irritated. What did August think he was up to?
She picked up her wine, feeling a little self-conscious.
"Another interfering big brother?" Killian quipped.
"Right?" she said. "He may be older, but I'm still half surprised that I didn't need to bail him out of a Turkish prison or something back when he was vagabonding all over Asia on his motorcycle."
Killian laughed in appreciation.
"Indeed, love. He's told me stories of his various adventures and some of them sounded quite perilous."
"So speaking of stories, what's yours, Killian?" asked Emma. "How did you end up in the States?"
"Liam all but dragged me across the Atlantic," he laughed.
Emma looked at him quizzically.
"Right after I finished university, I started seeing a woman-Milah-who was separated from her husband. I was completely in love with her in that slightly unhinged manner that sometimes comes with first love and I thought she felt the same. But whatever she felt, it wasn't enough to keep her from returning to her husband six months into our relationship. I was devastated and dealt with it by drinking too much, starting fights, sleeping with a different lass every night and just generally acting like a complete and utter tosser."
Killian smiled wryly.
"Liam strongly suggested a change of scenery would do me good. He had been thinking about moving to the States with the plan of eventually opening up his own tour company and he convinced me to come along. It took us awhile to get established, but eventually it all came together."
"And now here you are, a pirate captain," Emma teased.
"A dashing and handsome pirate captain, love."
Emma rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling.
As Killian continued to tease and flirt with Emma, he began to feel a bit as if he were having an out of body experience. He marveled at the fact that he was sitting very close to Emma Swan.
He'd made her laugh-and blush. She was radiant in the candlelight and when she smiled at him, suddenly anything seemed possible.
They fell into an easy conversation that lasted for hours, as they talked about books they liked (Peter Pan was an obvious favorite of Killian's and Emma had read the Harry Potter series over and over again); favorite music (Killian was particularly into Pearl Jam and Foo Fighters, while Emma was currently obsessively listening to Spoon and the Black Keys. They also discovered that they shared a love for 80s music and a long standing devotion to U2); and a love of travel.
As the clock crept toward midnight, Killian was reluctant to break the spell. He yawned unintentionally.
"Past your bedtime, old man?" Emma asked sassily.
Killian laughed.
"I assure you love, I'm quite capable of lasting long into the night," he said with a smirk. "However, I've had some early mornings of late and am facing another one tomorrow."
"Sailing lessons?" Emma asked.
"Aye."
"It's been a long day for me too, so why don't I escort you home, Captain?"
"Shouldn't I be escorting you home, love?" Killian teased.
"Figures you'd be old fashioned about that."
They settled up with August and headed home.
They didn't talk much as they walked but it was a comfortable silence. They drew near the houses.
"Scully knows the sound of my car, my voice and probably my footsteps. I'm sure she's jumping up and down impatiently," Emma said.
"Speaking of that delightful little redhead, Mr. Smee wanted me to ask you if you and Scully might join us for a play date."
"Mr. Smee asked for me to come as well, huh?"
"Well, that part might have been from me. I thought maybe you might let me feed you? You can help me try out my new grill in the backyard," Killian said, mentally crossing his fingers.
"That actually sounds really nice. But I'll warn you-I don't pillage and plunder on the first date," Emma said.
"That's because you haven't been out with me yet," Killian replied impishly.
Emma just rolled her eyes.
"I'll be on my best behavior, Swan. Captain's honor. Does Wednesday night work for you?"
"Yeah, that sounds good-7 o'clock?" Emma asked.
"It's a date." Killian said with a slightly shy smile.
They reached Emma's porch. At the front door, Killian took Emma's hand and kissed it with a playful bow.
"Until then, Swan."
"Goodnight, Jones."
Emma stepped inside her house and took a deep breath to steady herself. The thought of opening her heart again to someone was daunting, but she didn't want to turn away from whatever it was that was developing between Killian and her. She could not-did not want to-deny the connection she felt to him. The way he looked at her-like she just might be something rare, to be treasured-was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It felt really good. She craved more.
After she let Scully out, they got ready for bed. Settled in under the covers with Scully snuggled up close, Emma suddenly felt really sleepy. She yawned.
"Well, I guess you and I have a play date on Wednesday night, girl."
Scully was already chasing rabbits as Emma dozed off.
Her Saturday wasn't very exciting-filled with errands and housework. Neither of these activities could prevent Emma from thinking about Killian. A lot. When she thought about their upcoming date, butterflies took took wing in her stomach.
Saturday night was quiet-just Emma and Scully on the couch eating pizza (Scully was allowed a few pizza crusts) and watching Netflix.
Sunday morning dawned beautiful and bright. As she and Scully went out the front door of the house for a walk, Emma noticed a card on her door mat. Puzzled she bent and picked up.
Opening the envelope, she pulled out a card.
Happy Mother's Day from your dog!
The card even had poodle on the front (a white one, because greeting card makers were poodle racists, Emma was convinced). Inside, it was signed, love, Scully.
Killian. It had to be.
Tears sprung, unbidden, to Emma's eyes. She was not an overly sentimental person, but this was one of the sweetest, most thoughtful things anyone had ever done for her. She hadn't even realized it was Mother's Day-she'd never had reason to keep track of this particular holiday. How did he even find a poodle card? When had he had time?
She had a sudden urge to run down to Killian's house, drag him out and kiss the hell out of him. But she wouldn't-it wasn't her style. It also seemed a tad overeager.
No, she would wait until she saw him walking Mr. Smee. If she hadn't seen him by Tuesday morning, maybe she could sneak over and leave a thank you note-waiting until Wednesday night didn't feel right.
Emma placed the card carefully on the hall table. She and Scully started off on their walk. Maybe she'd even see Killian while they were out. It was an exhilarating and slightly scary thought. Words weren't her strong suit and she was a little worried that she wouldn't be able to express how much she appreciated his gesture. She guessed she'd start with "thank you" and wing it from there.
It was going to be an interesting week...