Disclaimer: I do not own OUAT or the characters.
Definitions: carry a torch- to have a crush
Daddy- a boyfriend or lover
Light from the setting sun lit up the bedroom, landing on discarded dresses and a vanity table covered with makeup, scarves, and jewelry. Tucked into the edge of the mirror was a photograph of a young man with blonde hair in a military uniform, looking directly at the camera. A dueling trumpet and saxophone blared from a radio in the next room, filling the little apartment. In the other room two women were talking and laughing, their voices drifting into the bedroom. A blonde woman lay on her stomach across the rumpled bed, scribbling madly in a notebook, teeth biting down on her lower lip in concentration.
"Emma, get your nose out of that notebook and come join us!" Ruby called from the other room. "Rewriting it won't get you any closer to proof, so you might as well put it down and gossip with Mary Margaret and me."
"I'm rewriting the beginning of the article, and I really think I'm on to something!" Emma yelled back. "Give me five minutes."
Mary Margaret appeared in the doorway, hands on her hips. "No. We are having a girls' night, and you are not hiding in here the whole time with your notes. Come on," she said, grabbing Emma by the wrist and pulling her off the bed. "Talk with us."
Ruby was lounging in an armchair by the window in the living room, a lit cigarette in her hand. She wore a red dressing gown over her pale pink slip, and her hair was pulled away from either side of her face with pins. "That article isn't going anywhere," she said, blowing smoke towards the open window. "And we only get one night off a week. Let's not waste it."
Emma sat down beside Mary Margaret on the couch, curling her legs up underneath herself. "Sorry. I'm just so frustrated with this piece! I want to put Gold behind bars, but I can't do a damn thing without proof that he is doing something extremely illegal."
"Let it go," Mary Margaret sighed. "At least for now. I'm sure you'll find something big soon, but just set the article aside for now. Write something about the people who frequent Storybrooke or about how the mayor doesn't care about the speakeasies."
Emma leaned her head back on the couch. "Do you really want me writing about your father?"
Mary Margaret shrugged. "As long as you don't say anything to get us all in trouble, I don't mind."
"I think you should write something about Gold's wife dying," Ruby mused. "From what I heard last night it was a scandal, involved illegal activities, and we have a witness working as security at Storybrooke now."
"Do you mean Killian?" Emma asked.
Ruby grinned. "So you did meet him. Isn't he just gorgeous? If I didn't think Victor would get jealous I might try to sneak away with him when I get breaks during my working nights."
"He is attractive," Mary Margaret agreed, toying with the wedding band on her finger. "But he looks a bit harsh for my taste. He doesn't seem anywhere near as gentle or sweet as David."
"You never think anyone is as good as David," Ruby replied. "Besides, you're a married girl. I don't know if I'd even count your opinion. Emma, what did you think?"
She shrugged. "He's easy on the eyes, that's for sure, but I think there's a lot more to him than he's telling anyone. He wouldn't tell me the details of the night Gold's wife died when I asked. For all I know he's helping to cover up Gold's illegal activities," Emma paused, remembering blue eyes and the brush of his lips against her knuckles. "But he is charming, and a good dancer. He is very attractive, and looks like he could hold his own in a fight. And his eyes are so blue…"
Ruby grinned when Emma trailed off. "You're carrying a torch for him."
"I am not!" Emma yelped, a light blush rising in her cheeks. "I just think he's interesting. I mean, when is the last time we had a new face in our circle?"
Mary Margaret shook her head. "David told me that Killian was flirting with you on his first night and that he kept sneaking glances at you when he was supposed to be manning the door. I think he could be carrying a torch for you too."
"No one is carrying any torches for anyone!" Emma said, exasperated. "I've only met the guy twice, and no one can know anything about someone in that little amount of time."
"I knew I was in love with David the first time we met," Mary Margaret insisted. "It was love at first sight."
"That's because you and David are perfect together," Emma replied. "And you two actually believe in love. I don't. It's not for me. I thought I had it, but it was all pretend and I ended up looking like a fool. Love doesn't exist for me, especially not with some new security man."
Both of the other women frowned. "You can't let one bad experience ruin the idea of love for you," Mary Margaret said. "Neal ended up being a bad choice. No one could have guessed that," she ignored Emma and Ruby's exchanged glance. "Okay, so maybe we should have guessed based on his father, but how were we to know that he was so much like Gold? Anyway, my point is that you should never give up on love. It's out there. You just need to let it find you."
"And if it never finds me?" Emma asked bitterly.
"Then you still have us," Ruby replied. "And we will take you out to clubs and make you dance and laugh and make sure that no one ever gives you a reason to cry again."
Emma laughed slightly, reaching out a foot to poke Mary Margaret. "By the way, wasn't there something you wanted to tell us? You were all mysterious earlier."
Mary Margaret nodded, sitting up straighter. "I wanted you two to be the first to know, after David of course," she beamed, looking at her two best friends. "We're going to have a baby!"
"You're pregnant?" Ruby shrieked. "Congratulations! Oh honey, you are going to be the best mother!" Emma reached out and squeezed Mary Margaret's hand, listening as she and Ruby began to discuss potential baby names and due dates.
The next night found the girls back at Storybrooke. Ruby circled the crowd with her cigarette tray, Mary Margaret sang with the band, and Emma sat at her usual stool by the bar. She looked up from her glass of rum when a man slid onto the stool beside hers.
"A rum, if you please," Killian told David, who nodded and slid a glass towards him. Picking it up, Killian took a long sip. "Mmm, Regina knows how to pick her liquor."
"Aren't you supposed to be working?" Emma asked carelessly.
He lifted an eyebrow. "It's my night off. I thought I'd stop by anyway though and see if I could get a beautiful blonde to dance with me again."
"That woman over there seems to find you attractive," Emma replied, nodding towards a blonde woman in a black dress two tables away. "I wish you the best of luck."
"I actually had a very particular blonde in mind," Killian said, leaning a little closer to her so that she could feel heat coming from him. "Do you think I have a chance?"
"Depends on the blonde," Emma answered. "As I recall, the one you were eyeing said that she doesn't get close to the security."
"I'm not security tonight," Killian grinned. "Tonight I'm just a man looking for a good time."
"Too bad I'm not looking for a daddy," Emma replied, taking another sip of her drink. "You'd have better luck with that other girl."
Killian glanced at the woman at the table. "She's not my type. Not enough curves and looks like she'd chatter on about harebrained things. I prefer a woman with a mind," he looked at Emma. "Not to mention one with a personality."
"Am I supposed to fall at your feet with that?" Emma demanded. "Because I'm not that easy."
"I never said you were, love," he said. "I do enjoy a challenge. But you know, not once have I heard you say that you weren't at all interested in me. And I will take that as encouragement." Killian drained his rum and set the empty glass on the bar. "Dance with me? One dance, that's all I ask."
Emma looked at his outstretched hand, noticing it was the one without scars. She looked back up at his face and studied him for a moment. His blue eyes sparkled with fun and daring, with a tiny bit of something that she couldn't name underneath. He interested her, and that was enough for the night.
"Alright," she said, getting to her feet and taking his hand. "Let's dance."
He grinned and led her to the dance floor. She made sure to ignore Mary Margaret's excited look and set a hand on his shoulder as they prepared to dance. Just as they were about to join the foxtrot, the song ended and the band switched to a slow ballad.
"You know, this might be better," Killian murmured. "A slower dance can be much more… interesting, don't you think?"
She looked up to meet his eyes, doing her best to keep her features smooth as he pulled her closer to him for a waltz. "Don't go getting any ideas. I only promised you one dance."
His hand moved to the small of her back as they slowly began to rotate. His tongue moved to slide along his lower lip as he met her eyes. She did her best to ignore it, but knew she had failed when she looked up and he was smirking. "Don't worry, lass, if I get any ideas I will make sure to share them with you."
She rolled her eyes, looking around the club as they danced. The crowd was thinner than usual, but she saw all the regulars. Killian spun her in a tight circle before pulling her close, bringing her attention back to him. Their chests pressed together as they continued to dance, his face mere inches away from hers. Green eyes met blue in a staring contest, only ending with the song. His eyes darted down to her lips as she stepped back. She watched as his tongue slid along his lower lip.
"Thank you for the dance," he murmured, still holding onto her hand. "Any chance I could convince you to join me for another one?"
Emma stepped back towards him before she had even thought about it. "I guess there's no harm in dancing."
"No harm at all," Killian agreed, voice low and promising the exact opposite. He pulled her back into his arms and they continued to dance until the band stopped playing and David yelled for last call.
A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who favorited, followed, and reviewed! Knowing that people are actually reading this story is the best motivation to continue it, so please continue to let me know if you like it! I realized I forgot to put the 1920s slang definitions before the last two chapters, but from here on out I will be putting any necessary definitions before the chapter.
