She opens the door to see him standing there, an arm behind his back and head bowed the slightest. He's gotten rid of his usual pirate garb, opting for the same look, only just a little bit more modern.
"Swan," he greets with a soft smile, and he procures a single rose for her.
She takes it wordlessly, still stunned by his new look, and she's speechless to say the least. He's probably wearing the same amount of leather as he usually does, but the jacket, the pants and the vest, it makes her thoughts jumble and she can't seem to find the right words to say.
"Didn't he have a hook for a hand?"
Elsa's failed whisper pulls her out of her trance, and only then does she notice. She glances from the rose to his left hand over and over again, her eyes blinking in confusion and she looks to his face for answers.
He smirks.
"I didn't realize the whole entourage was going to be greeting me," Killian teases, making a move to enter the apartment. She steps back, allowing him to enter and he's greeted with a range of faces.
They move to stand next to each other, facing her parents and her newfound friend; her father's arms are crossed, her mother's face mirroring Elsa's (and probably her own) in a look of surprise.
She still hasn't spoken a word, much too stunned to form a coherent sentence. Instead, she places the rose gently on the table by the door, her movement being carefully watched by Killian.
"You clean up well," Snow says impressed, while her husband still glares hard at Killian, executing the protective father role to perfection. Elsa on the other hand, nods in agreement.
"Thank you, milady," he bows his head marginally with an all too polite smile before turning to face Emma. "Shall we, love?"
She shakes herself out of her continued trance and manages a smile. "Yeah," she's able to croak out, and the smug look on his face tells her how pleased he is with her reaction.
He fits in a nod in her father's direction, and through her peripheral vision, she sees that it's reciprocated, before holding his arm out for her, (I'm always a gentleman) and getting a final smile of encouragement from both her mother and Elsa, she takes it.
"Don't stay out too late!" David adds in quickly before they shut the door behind them.
She wants to ask about his hand, wants to know the story, but he cuts in before she can.
"The date," he says cheerfully, leading her down the hallway and down the stairs, a large smile and bright eyes on his face.
She can ask him later.
-/-
She asks him after they've found their seats and received their menus in the restaurant by docks that he booked himself (he tells her that with pride, and her heart swells at the look on his face).
"Are you going to tell me how you got it back?" she springs on him, and for a moment, his smile falters, but he recovers quickly, sending her a too-large grin, that's on the fence between real and fake.
"You don't like it?" he asks coolly, flexing his left hand for her to see. He stares at it longer than he should before turning to her, and she can sense something's off.
"I like you just as much with the hook," she says seriously. "How?"
He scratches his left ear with his left hand and she wonders how long it's been since he's done that. "Gold."
"And he just did it like that?"
He chuckles hollowly, "All magic does comes with a price, love."
Her heart sinks at that. "Which is?" she dares ask, and his eyes flicker back up to hers, accompanied by a twitch of his lips.
"It's only temporary, of course." He glances back down, his hand fiddling with the zipper of his new jacket. "You'll be getting your one-handed pirate back in no time," he gives her a lopsided grin.
"Then why'd you do it?" she asks softly, already having an idea of his answer.
"I just wanted to- I don't know… I just wanted to hold you with both hands," he says, stumbling over his words.
She reaches over the table and pulls his left hand into both of hers. "When do you…" she trails off, unsure of which words to use.
"When do I lose it again?" he finishes the sentence for her, and she nods quietly. "When the—"
They're interrupted when Will from the day before barges into the restaurant. He looks frantically around the place and when he finally spots her he jogs over to them, panting by the time he reaches her. She's still holding Killian's hand and she's reminded of what he's interrupting, and she really has the urge to punch him hard in the face. She doesn't even know how he'd managed to find her since it doesn't look like Killian had told anyone of their whereabouts for the night – for this exact reason.
"The bloody ice lady!" he exclaims once he's caught his breath, and Emma raises an eyebrow in question, telling him to elaborate. "She's just frozen Little John! Ice! Frozensolid!"
She glances at Killian and to the hand she's still holding. He nods, saying, "There's time," in a low voice, for only her to hear.
She looks longingly at the menu that she's yet to look through and the food on the other customers' tables, but gets up anyway, huffing immaturely.
"Right then – let's go."
-/-
She's frustrated.
She couldn't even have a single night of peace, just to spend it with the guy she may or may not like very much. She swears this wasn't in the job description, if not she wouldn't have signed up as Savior – oh right, she didn't sign up for this.
She lies in her bed, still wearing her dress from the night before being too lazy and upset to even change before collapsing onto the bed, and stares blankly at the ceiling.
Scenes from the night before plays in her mind and she remembers how he stands patiently behind her as she tries to solve the damn mystery of this so called ice lady, as so eloquently put by Will. (Then again, she did call her Dairy Queen, but that's not the point.)
She turns to her side, facing the nightstand where the single rose Killian had gotten for her stands oddly still strong in the mug she's used as a makeshift vase.
She lifts the flower up, holding it suspended above the mug to let the water drip from its stem. She moves to sit up, getting in a better position to examine the rose.
It's a real rose, she's sure of it – the darker color of the tip of the petals giving her the evidence she needs. It's odd that it's still almost perfect, given that she only put it into water late the night before. The smell of the flower is still strong, giving her an odd feeling that there's something wrong with the flower.
Mainly out of instinct, (she doesn't know how she does it but) she manages to conjure a spell of some sort, identifying whether or not there is magic used on the rose, and the flowers glows with a dark light. She gives herself a moment to pride herself in how good she's getting, but the moment is short-lived, replaced with her putting the pieces together.
She doesn't even know whether she's right or not, but by the time she calls him, she's already furious.
He picks up after the second beep, and he doesn't manage to get in a greeting before she cuts in. "It's the rose isn't it," she asks, though it isn't much of a question, and she can hear his defeated sigh. "When the rose wilts, your hand will be taken away from you."
There's a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a self-deprecating laugh. "Aye. You've always been perceptive, Swan."
"Killian, this is not the time to joke."
"I'm not—"
"This is ridiculous," she cuts him off, hanging up before he can finish his sentence (What does that mean, lov-), tossing her phone aside in a mix of frustration and anger directed to no one in particular.
(That's a lie)
(She's frustrated with Killian, and she angry- pissed with Gold)
-/-
She knocks on his door insistently, not caring who else in Granny's inn she's disturbing (not that she's actually seen other people living in the other rooms) and she hears the creak of his bed followed by padded footsteps and a 'Bloody hell'.
"Emma." He moves aside for her to enter, but instead she grabs his arm and drags him roughly down the hall and out by the car park. "Bloody- Swan!"
He pulls his arm out of her grip and she swerves around to face him, and he's taken back by the hard look on her face. "We're going to see Gold to get this-," she waves her hand at his new-old one "-fixed. It's your hand, not his," she deadpans, turning back around to move towards her car.
"I'm not coming, love," his voice says from a distance, and when she swivels back she sees him standing rooted at the spot she left him at.
"What do you mean you're not coming?" she takes two slow steps back towards him.
His shoulders slump in defeat. "I've accepted it, Emma. I'm not supposed to have two hands. After what I've done, I didn't expect any good, and then you came along." He walks cautiously to her. "You're all I need."
"And you're okay with waiting for your hand to just fall off?"
"I just wanted to hold you with both hands – just once, that's all I've ever wished for." He stares hard at her, every word he speaks sounding even more sincere than the last.
"And that's the only reason you wanted your hand back for?" She steps closer towards him, leaving barely any space in between their bodies.
He dares to move his hands up, cupping her face in his hands, running his thumbs over the apple of her cheeks. "That's all I've ever wanted."
She pushes herself off her feet the slightest, tilting her face up and pressing her lips to his. When she presses harder against him, his hands move down from her face to her waist, pulling her (if possible) closer to him.
She feels him draw back first, but she basks in the moment, letting her eyes stay shut, hoping this, along with all their other moments remain in her mind.
He presses a sweet (and dare she think loving) kiss to her forehead, and when she opens her eyes, his smile is real.
"How about we go back to mine and really see what's on Netflix?" she asks and he chuckles.
"Still have no clue what that is, but of course."
-/-
Gold reclaims Killian's hand three days later, and despite Emma's protests telling him it's his hand and that it's his right, but he goes to the pawn shop willingly, seeing the blackness reach the bottom of the petals.
She holds onto his right hand while Gold takes it back, an annoying smug look on his face (and she really, really wants to punch him now). He tells her it doesn't hurt, but she sees the way he stares at his once again handless arm, but she doesn't say anything, simply helping him put on his brace wordlessly. (He tried hiding the stump from her, telling her that she wouldn't want to see it but she insists, and he murmurs a 'stubborn woman' under his breath as he grudgingly holds his arm out for her) It's the first time she's really seen his bare arm (not wanting to count that night in the hospital as the first time) and she can tell he's nervous that she'd be scared, his eyes following her every move as she caresses his wound.
She leaves clicking the hook in place to him, and he as much as he says that he's accepted it, she doesn't miss the longing look in his eyes.
She pulls his arm to her, her hand playing with the hook and he gives her a halfhearted smile.
"Have I ever told you that I find the hook strangely sexy?"
His smile is real this time.
-/-