A/N: Many many thanks again to tnlph for being my beta and friend. Pop culture references may or may not be for you.
With Granny and Ruby gone home, Emma had dreaded the thought of more interrogation from David and Mary Margaret, but it seemed their interest was sated for the moment and they quickly said their goodnights and headed to bed.
Mary Margaret giggled as Emma made her way to the stairs. "Just remember, you two, that there are no walls around that room of yours." Emma tensed, but her discomfort was nothing compared to her brother's.
"Yes, really, really remember that," he said through gritted teeth, eyeing Killian suspiciously. Wicked grin in place, Killian swept Emma into his arms and made a show of nuzzling into her neck, his eyes never leaving David's. Emma slapped at Killian's arm as her brother turned away, his head shaking as Mary Margaret patted him comfortingly.
"OK, that'll do Captain Grabby Hands," she hissed at him, ignoring the traitorous flush that was creeping up her neck as his nose nudged persistently at her ear. He pulled back slightly, grin still in place as he whispered to her.
"Just making sure no one has any doubts, Swan."
Their mistletoe kiss popped into Emma's mind unbidden, and she pulled away from him quickly, heading up the stairs before he could see her thoughts clear in the red tinge of her cheeks. As she entered the bedroom, Emma sucked in a breath, the reality of sleeping next to him with this unfamiliar buzz under her skin unsettling her immensely.
He was quick to offer her first use of the bathroom, an opportunity Emma took willingly, needing a moment to get herself together. She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, trying to gauge just when her body had started to react to Killian Jones. What signs had she missed in her face or her skin that could have warned her that him kissing her, even when it was just for show, would make her long for him to do it again?
She brushed her teeth and changed into her pajamas, grateful for the flannel sleep gear necessitated by the Storybrooke cold, knowing her usual tank and shorts would have done nothing to conceal the way her body flushed when he got too near.
When she returned to her - their - room, he looked her up and down, grinning at her pirate themed sleep pants. "Ah, you're wearing my favourites, Swan. I'd love to think you remembered my preference for good old Hook but.."
"Only thing left clean in the dresser."
"Just as I feared." He shook his head sadly as he walked towards the bathroom. As he reached the doorway, he turned and indicated towards the bed, his eyebrows raised almost to his hairline. "Now remember, love, I am not adverse to a bit of cuddling so don't feel you need to sleep on the floor in order to contain any urges you may have."
Emma rolled her eyes at him as she slipped under the covers, purposefully tucking the blankets firmly under her body as he watched. "No urges here," she assured him. "Unless you count the one I have to punch that smug smile off your face occasionally?"
She was almost certain the smug smile in response was a deliberate choice. "You know what they say, Swan," he smirked. "There's a fine line between pleasure and pain." He ran his tongue along his lips slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. Emma clenched her fists in the blankets, ignoring the twist in her stomach as she tried to force herself to look away, to roll her eyes, to do anything but focus on whatever he was doing with his mouth.
"Well, your pain will be my pleasure if you don't stay on your side of this bed," she snapped, and she turned away sharply, pulling the covers almost over her head. She heard his quiet laugh from the doorway.
"You know, Swan, I quite fancy you when you are threatening me with physical violence. Does things to me." There was a pause. Emma said nothing, but could hear him exhale deeply. The flirtatious tone in his voice was gone when he spoke again. "Get some sleep, love."
"Okay."
Emma snuggled in under the blanket, her eyes heavy but her brain on high alert. These unfamiliar feelings had taken her by surprise, and as she lay in the dim light she could almost feel the soft fabric of his shirt in her fingers and the rasp of his scruff on her chin. His kiss by the car had been soft and reassuring, had convinced her they could make her family believe they were together, but the moment she had dragged his lips to hers, hard and desperate - well that was something else entirely.
She had no idea where it had come from - the need to be in his space, to pull him closer and kiss him senseless. But even now as she listened to him moving around in the bathroom, she could feel the press of his lips on hers.
She needed to remember what this was - to remember how important having Killian as her friend was. No matter how warm his skin felt on hers and how much her body was drawn to him.
Her breathing evened as the exhaustion of the day started to catch up and by the time Killian slipped into the other side of the bed, Emma had almost drifted off into sleep. He had settled himself far on the other side of the mattress, his back turned to her; she could feel the space between them in a way she could not understand.
"Goodnight, love," came his muffled voice.
Emma was out cold before she could reply.
It took her a moment to remember where she was - her eyes opening slowly as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. The setting soon became familiar - but the hard plane under her fingers and the heavy warmth across her body were not as easy to reconcile. Emma moved her hand tentatively on the unfamiliar surface, little swirls of her fingers that caught in the hair beneath them.
When he moaned softly, she drew back her hand in surprise and he shifted slightly at the sudden movement. Killian's arms were around her, her head nestled on his shoulder as he held her to his side. The weight of his forearm at her hip was suddenly tenfold, but somehow she could not bring herself to move away from him.
It had been a long, long time since she had felt comfortable sleeping in someone's arms.
It had been a long, long time since she had given herself the opportunity to try.
Emma watched as he slept beside her, his face looking impossibly younger in its relaxed state. His breathing was heavy and even, his lips curled softly in a smile. Even in the dim light of the loft there was no mistaking how handsome he was, the strong line of his jaw and its ginger-tinged scruff, his long lashes resting softly on his cheeks.
The temptation to run her finger along his jawline was too much to resist. Her touch was feather-soft, but it was enough to stir him from deep sleep, his arm around her shoulder tightening as he pulled her closer towards him. She felt his nose nudging in her hair and he murmured something against her skin that sounded for all the world like her name; Emma, in a whispered voice full of longing.
Common sense told her he was dreaming, that he had no idea what he was doing, what he was saying.
There in his arms, in the dark and the warmth, her heart was wishing for something far less sensible.
Emma could no longer ignore the dull ache in her left arm, pinned between their bodies and she tried to wriggle it free without disturbing Killian's sleep, but it proved impossible. His eyes blinked open and Emma watched as he focused on her, the moment in which he realised where he was and what he was doing clear.
"Couldn't stay away, buddy?" she asked, hoping the light hearted approach would soften the furrow in his brow. His eyes were dark with concern, no sign of his usual flirtation or flippant remarks as he slipped his arm out from under her and pulled the covers tight around him.
"My apologies, Swan," he mumbled. "It appears I may have lost all sense of decorum. I can move to the armchair if I have made you feel uncomfortable…"
"Killian, it's fine," she said quickly, cutting him off before he actually climbed out of the bed. She smiled nervously at him, watching as his expression moved from concern to confusion. "I don't actually think it was all you."
It took a moment in his sleep-addled state, but his lips soon quirked in a grin. "Always suspected you were fighting to keep your hands off me, Swan."
Emma narrowed her eyes at him, more grateful to be back in familiar territory than she had expected. "Don't push your luck, Jones,"
"Well you feel free to push yours."
Shaking her head, Emma snuggled down into the covers, turning her back to him as she made herself comfortable. No part of their bodies were touching, but she remained supremely aware of his closeness, conscious of every little movement as he settled down to sleep again. He pulled the covers and the blanket slipped from her shoulder. Emma reached to pull it back, but instead of the soft fleece fabric she found Killian's fingers, one step ahead of her.
There was a moment of stillness, neither of them moving but neither pulling away, their hands linked at her shoulder.
"Sleep tight, love," he whispered, a tremble in his voice that made Emma's breath catch and her body want him nearer. Before she could talk herself out of it, she curled her fingers around his and pulled his hand around her, drawing him close behind her as the comforting weight of his arm rested on her hip.
She expected words, questions, something from him, but there was only a deeply inhaled breath near her ear as his thumb traced lines lightly on her hand. She smiled to herself, nudging a foot between his and allowing herself to drift off without questioning the consequences.
"Just in case someone comes in," she murmured as her eyes began to close.
"Of course, love." he answered in a whisper, his hand coming to rest on her stomach as he snuggled in behind her.
No one was going to come in. He knew that. She knew that. But his arm was wrapped around her waist, her feet tangled up with his and she wanted him to be there so he didn't bloody care.
Something was different between them since she had taken his breath away with her lips on his, a kiss like no other he could remember. He could still feel every tiny detail of the way her mouth had moved against his, her fingers tight in his shirt like she was hanging on for dear life.
She was different.
Her breathing was smooth and even, and he smiled at the thought of her falling asleep so easily as he held her in his arms. He had expected Emma to put up a fight - a line of demarcation down the bed, banishment to the floor when his unconscious self had acted on those things that had been merely dreams for so long.
Instead he had this. He held her close, his body curled around hers, his fingers sparking where her shirt had moved and they brushed the softness of her skin.
He almost didn't dare to breathe for fear of waking her, wanting - needing - to prolong this moment with the woman he loved.
No pep talk from Granny, no tiny flicker of hope when she looked at him with something new in her green eyes, none of these things compared to knowing, in this moment at least, Emma Swan wanted him close to her.
His own eyes were growing heavy, despite every effort to stay awake and just drink in her nearness. He had no idea what tomorrow would bring - Emma's protective walls were a powerful force and he had every expectation of them closing in again when she woke in his arms.
If what he had was now, then he would take it.
When Emma's eyes blinked open again, sunlight was streaming through the gauzy curtains of the bedroom. She felt relaxed and rested, more than she had since the day she had come up with this whole crazy plan. As she stretched herself awake, she realised the comforting weight of Killian's arm was missing - and she fought hard with herself to not ask why she missed it.
When she rolled towards his side of the bed, she realised she was alone. Her eyes scanned the room, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Soft voices drifted up to her from the kitchen, coupled with the clattering of plates and cups and a definite waft of cooking bacon. Her mouth watered as she realised Killian's probable whereabouts and she rolled herself out of bed and to the top of the landing.
Killian was at the cooktop watching the bacon sizzle, his dark t shirt riding up to reveal a strip of toned stomach as he reached for the carton of eggs on the counter. Emma's eyes were drawn to the trail of dark hair that made its way into the waistband of his sleep pants and she stared shamelessly as he cracked eggs into the pan.
David was seated at the counter and the two men chatted easily as Killian cooked. Emma smiled at the contrast from the previous night - gone was the ruthless interrogator and in its place was a man delighted to have finally found his soulmate.
The smell of the bacon was becoming irresistible. Never normally one to fuss over her morning appearance, something sent Emma to the mirror, fluffing her bed hair slightly. Her hand hovered over her lip gloss for a brief moment before she stared at herself in disbelief.
Since when did she need gloss at breakfast? What the hell was she doing? She grabbed a hairtie and twisted her long blonde hair into a messy ponytail, defying every urge to preen before heading down to join Killian for breakfast.
His face lit up when he saw her on the stairs, a look that made her heart jump at the sincerity in his eyes. He was her friend, he always looked happy to see her, she rationalised, all the time knowing that this was something different.
No wonder her family were believing their story - a tiny part of her was starting to believe it too.
"Morning, beautiful," he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek as she picked a piece of particularly crunchy bacon from the plate beside him. She felt her cheeks colour as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, pressing a line of tiny kisses along her jaw.
It was quite the romantic moment, if the exaggerated vomiting noises coming from her brother were anything to go by.
"Are we twelve, Dave?" Killian asked with a grin, not loosening his hold on Emma's waist or moving his lips far from her skin.
"I think he wishes I still was," Emma laughed, leaning in to Killian a little more than she needed to as she watched her brother squirm. Killian's breath was warm on her neck and her skin felt alive at his touch - and she was enjoying every moment.
Not one bit felt like play acting - and she was far less worried about that than she should be.
It was inevitable. Emma thought, that they would all be ejected from the apartment and sent out to show Killian the sights of Storybrooke once Mary Margaret hit "panicky pre-party" mode. When David had moved a cushion on the sofa inappropriately for the third time, her sister-in-law had left them in no doubt that their presence was no longer required.
The sights of Storybrooke were limited at best, of course, so the three of them had soon found themselves at Granny's nursing bottomless cups of coffee - or cocoa in Emma's case - as David told hilarious stories about each new customer that walked into the diner. Apparently the sheriff of a small town saw things. Interesting and slightly disturbing things.
Emma knew she would never look at Leroy quite the same way again.
"Just don't call him Grumpy," David finished, as the three of them followed the stocky man with their eyes as he made his way to the counter. He stared back, eyebrows furrowed suspiciously at them until Emma waved at him and he broke into a grin.
"Swan, you never told me you grew up in that bloody Star's Hollow from that terrible fast talking show you insisted I watch," Killian laughed as Emma rolled her eyes. "I thought that was the maddest town I had ever seen but if even half of these stories are true, I will be hard-pressed to look some people in the eye this evening."
"Did you mean that fast talking show I see in your Netflix queue every time I look?" Emma shot back. "Team Jess, you were, weren't you?"
"Well yes, of course I was. Clever lad, well matched for Ror…" he grinned and waggled a finger at Emma. "Well played, Swan, I see what you did there."
"I'm glad you do," David said, "Because I have no idea what you are both talking about."
Killian draped his arm around Emma's shoulder and pulled her in close. "We are so connected, love," he said with a wink. "Now shall we have another round? Perhaps some of those atrociously unhealthy onion rings?" Emma nodded and he stood to go, but not before he pressed a kiss to her temple.
Emma's eyes followed him all the way to the counter, something hypnotic in the way he walked that she was sure had absolutely nothing to do with the way his jeans fit the curve of his ass and his long legs. She sighed heavily as an image of him lounging in her car and joking about her falling for him came to her mind. It felt very like she was doing exactly that, despite her having a million reasons not to.
David was grinning madly at her when she looked up.
"What?" she snapped.
"Nothing," her brother replied quickly although the wide smile remained as he eyed her knowingly. She followed as his eyes flicked to Killian, now seated at the counter next to Leroy after being cornered by Granny. The older woman was speaking animatedly as Killian listened intently. Emma smiled to herself at the memory of their first meeting and wondered how long she should leave him before she rescued him from Granny's clutches. His rich, throaty laugh rang across the diner at that moment and she decided he was clearly holding his own.
She turned back to her brother, rolling her eyes when she saw the self satisfied smile that was still on his lips.
"Cut the crap, David. What are you grinning at?"
"You love him." It wasn't a question and something in his tone was very unsettling.
"Well yes, David, he is my boyfriend." Sarcasm was always the fallback position, always her first line of defence.
David looked at her with one eyebrow raised and for a brief moment Emma considered the contrasting effect that movement could have on a different face and in a different set of circumstances.
"Okay. But you actually love him."
Emma held her breath as she prepared to have her entire plan unraveled before her eyes. Somehow her brother knew the secret - despite the kiss and the way she and Killian had been together…
"This one is finally the real deal," David continued before she could respond. "You've actually let go enough to let him in." She let out the breath she had been holding as she realised her brother hadn't worked it out. He thought she was really in love with Killian Jones.
He seemed to mistake her relief for something else.
"Did you think we wouldn't approve of him or something?" Emma just shook her head. "He's a great guy Emma, both Mary Margaret and I think so. He is obviously crazy about you, you can see it in the way he looks at you."
"That could be lust, David, he's kind of handsy a lot of the time." Her brother shuddered visibly at the thought and Emma relaxed for just a second, grateful for the moment of relief her jolke offered. This whole conversation had taken an uncomfortable turn. David believing she and Killian were a couple was one thing, but this talk of love - real love - was something else entirely. Something in the way she was with Killian had convinced him it was all real and more than she had ever bargained on when this crackpot plan had come to her.
She was just not sure she was that good of an actor.
"I think I made myself clear on my feelings about that this morning," David said with a grin. "And you can deflect attention from the fact the man is completely in love with you all you want. But the fact remains."
He looked so pleased with himself. And not nearly finished.
"Just like the fact that you are in love with him right back." She made a move to protest, anything to end the surreal episode of Dr Phil she seemed to be living at this moment. But he was too quick for her. "I know love, Emma, and I know you and this conversation -" he gestured between them - "this might be the first time you've let yourself think about it but you know it's true. And I know it is scary as hell for you. But this relationship is the real deal and you love him."
Emma's eyes were drawn to the man across the room, still deep in conversation with the diner owner. He had slotted into her life so easily, had made himself invaluable without her even realising until she had rejected the idea of more with him out of abject fear of losing what she had.
But she had forgotten to consider what she stood to gain.
"Emma?" David interrupted her thoughts, just as Killian slapped a departing Leroy on the back and told him to have fun storming the castle. The bearded man looked questioningly but Emma could not suppress a smile at the timing. Killian caught her eye and winked, his grin contagious.
"Emma," her brother said again, and she turned back to face him.
"I guess we should be grateful he didn't start singing 'Heigh Ho'," David said with a sigh. "You two really do make a good team, he's running interference on the big conversations now. No wonder you're in love with him. But I do have one last question for you."
Emma bit down on her bottom lip, unsure of where this was headed.
"I know you love him, you know you love him -" he paused, raising his eyebrows as if challenging her to argue, but Emma remained silent. "But when are you going to let him in on the secret?
