Author's Note: I'm back, my friends! I'm back, I'm back! There really are no excuses as to why this update is entirely too late other than my own lack of time management and severe case of procrastination (it's a serious and severe issue that I have). Anyways, Merry Christmas! And here's a long awaited update to the story that started it all (all being my fanfic writing addiction). Hope you like it (its filled with fluffy-goodness). Here's your present, dear, lovely friends who have decided to take the time to read this figment of my imagination.
Disclaimer: Nope, no, no. Damn.
Emma Swan awoke that morning more content than she had been in a while.
Maybe ever.
Definitely ever.
Oh, shut up.
It was one of those mornings where she woke up, but could not, for the life of her, recall exactly when that had occurred. Like, she knew that she had awoken at some point in time, obviously, but she just knew that one second she was asleep, and the next, awake.
That was how she knew that the sleep she had gotten was good. Peaceful. Because she always remembered that dreaded state in between waking and slumbering.
Always.
But when she didn't remember it...that meant that her sleep was deep and uninterrupted.
Which it had not been in a while. So...
As if on cue, she realized that there was a strong arm wrapped around her waist and a hot, lean body pressed against her back. The events from last night flooded her memory, and all she could do was smile in response. Surprisingly, she didn't regret the decisions she had made in the past few hours that led to this moment. Taking into consideration the fact that this had probably been inevitable since the day they'd met, she felt a lot better about sleeping with him before they'd even had a first date.
Which did, however, bring her to the conclusion that (despite the fact that she had no regrets) they really needed to talk about this new development in their 'relationship'.
'Was it a relationship?' She ponders.
Yes. N-no!
But, yes.
It must be, because he's in love with her, and aside from all of her determined protests and stubborn denial, she (at least) has strong feelings for him, as well.
'Strong feelings, or love?' A tiny, bloody annoying voice pipes up.
God.
Can. She. Just. Not.
These thoughts are inappropriate. However, given the current circumstances...
No.
Apparently, she'd been so invested in her thoughts, that she began to shift uncomfortably in her position in his bed. In response, his arm around her waist tightens and he nuzzles his face into the back of her neck, his nose buried in her hair.
Oh, my god.
Why? Why must he be like this? Why is the fearsome, dreaded, villainous Captain Hook so damn sweet and adorable?
Ugh.
He's breathing in her scent and softly murmuring her name in his sleep, all while holding her the way a child possessively cuddles a teddy bear. It's like he's anchoring her to him, trying to physically keep her here with him, and it breaks her heart. She'd made her decision when she'd jumped into bed with him the night before, a decision she hadn't made lightly, despite the fast-moving pace of their 'encounter'.? At least, encounter is what she'd been calling it in her head. He'd most likely call it a dalliance, but whatever.
She had chosen him the way he'd chosen her, fully and completely. His blatant declaration of his love for her had been the final piece falling into place. And yeah, she's still absolutely terrified of commitment and abandonment and trusting somebody else with her broken fragile heart, but she knows that she deserves this chance, this chance at love. That he deserves it, they deserve it.
So. She's going to try.
Okay.
She's been awake for an hour now, contemplating everything in her head. Softly, so as of to awaken him from his peaceful state, Emma raises herself up slightly on her elbows to peer at the alarm clock on the nightstand of his room. The clock reads6:42, and she sighs, given the early hour, and the fact that she cannot fall back asleep. She falls back onto the bed a bit too forcefully, and he stirs beside her.
Shit.
Not that she doesn't want him awake, it's just she wanted to allow him the comfort of sleeping longer. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps.
Aaaannnndd, now, apparently, she's a sap.
Lovely.
He's awake now, that she can tell. His breathing is no longer deep and even, as that of someone peacefully asleep, but lighter and quicker than it had been before. Without opening his eyes, he leans in closer to her and begins softly peppering kisses on her neck.
And if she shivers, it's because the air conditioning system works really well in the rooms at Granny's.
Really.
Remembering how well she had reacted to it the night before-perfect memory holding bastard that he is-he leans up and blows in her ear (GOD.) before whispering, "Good morning, love." In a sleepy, gruff voice.
She twists and turns in his arms until she is facing him. "Hi," she says, faintly shyly (even though, she'd rehearsed this in her mind for the past hour-not that she'd ever admit to it-and she never sounded like this). He smiles at her and then he captures her lips in a soft, sweet kiss. She melts into it and when he traces his tongue along her bottom lip, she lets him enter her mouth without hesitation. Their tongues battle for dominance passionately, and he pins her down on the bed with his left arm, while he hovers above her and his right hand tangles in her hair, all the while managing not to break the kiss.
They go on like this for a while, when Killian decides to up the stakes by slipping his hand from Emma's hair, to underneath the sheets-where he immediately finds and cups her breast. She arches her body into his touch and moans. He kneads her breast with his hand and lowers his mouth to her neck, sucking a mark at the juncture where neck meets collarbone and the pleasure is just unbelievable.
She has to stop it before it gets too out of hand, though. There's things to do today.
Important things.
Really.
She grabs ahold of his wrist and gently pulls it from her body. Then, she cups his face in her hands and pulls him toward her for another kiss. He grins into it and, after a moment, pulls back slightly.
He just...stares at her. Simply stares at her for a long moment, with so much love and adoration-all for her-in his eyes, that she finds it hard to breathe. After so many years of being alone, so many people just abandoning her, the kind of love that he's offering is just, sort of...unfathomable.
"You've no idea how long I've imagined waking up like this, love." He says whilst grinning in awe.
She can't help but smile back. "I think I have some idea." She replies.
He laughs. "Well, I know that our enjoyable activities last night proved to tire the both of us out, but," he begins, looming over her once again. "Now that we're well rested..." He trails off, giving her a smirk and a waggle of his eyebrows.
She grins and roles her eyes at him, playfully pushing him off of her body. "Darling, if you wanted to be on top..." He starts. She swats at him, but he quickly deflects her with a pillow.
"No!" She squeals as he grabs her by the waist and pulls her back to him. Which, you know, in retrospect, probably should have been a lot harder for a man with one hand, but then he's always surprised her. "No, we have to get up. There's things that need to be do-" she halts in the middle of the word with a loud moan as he sucks on her pulse point, hard.
"Sod that." He rasps against her throat. "It can wait." He continues his ministrations, and she's about to melt.
Seriously.
Like, what is wrong with her, he's barely touched her!
"No, no it can't." She says, pulling away reluctantly. He groans, and falls against the headboard with a loud thump.
"I'm going to go over to my room to take a shower and get dressed. Come over when you're ready." She tells him, as she wraps a blanket around herself and stands up. She walks around, searching for her clothes. She spies her bra-shredded bra-laying atop the dresser.
"Now, Swan, why would you wrap that blanket around yourself? I think it would be much easier for you, if you just walked around this bedchamber naked." He smirks, and she notices-from a purely detached point of view (yeah, right.)-that the sheets are pooled dangerously low around his hips.
"Because if I wasn't wearing this, you'd jump me." She explains matter-of-factly.
"And would that be so bad?"
God.
"I have to go." She says, walking towards the door with her pile of clothes. "And I'm taking this blanket, since you decided to destroy my shirt!" She yells over her shoulder.
"You liked it." He says, tilting his head, with a smug look on his face.
Well, he's got a point there.
She opens the door, and quickly peeks left and right, to make sure that the coast is clear. When she's sure it is, she slips out the door, runs across the hall, unlocks her door, and quickly slips inside. She shuts the door behind her, but doesn't lock it.
In retrospect, she probably should have.
Or maybe...not.
Emma set her clothes down in the corner of her room and set her phone on the bedside table to charge. She unwrapped herself from the blanket and went over to the inn room's dresser to find a change of clothes for the day. All she heard in warning to her unexpected visitor, was a creak of the floorboards, and before she could turn, strong arms wrapped around her from behind.
Of course it was him.
Goddamn ninja pirate.
"Hey, beautiful." He rasps in her ear, before nibbling on her earlobe. It's when he starts kissing down her neck that she notices-because it's pressed up against her, and surely he isn't that close-that he's also still naked.
She pulls away from him, and turns to face him.
"Did you come across the hall like this?" She asks, incredulously.
He nods unashamedly.
"In the nude?" She elaborates.
"Yes."
"Seriously?"
He smirks and tilts his head, moving a step toward her. "Why? Does that bother you, love?" He inquires with amusement.
She blushes.
But only a little.
Yeah.
"No." She replies, narrowing her eyes in an indignant manner. His smirk just widens.
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely." She lies straight through her teeth. And if she's a little jealous-except she's not-well she's entitled to it. Her-no not hers-but really, he's hers-pirate had just crossed the hall naked. Granted it was only...7:23 AM, but still. Someone could've seen him.
And that knowledge just pisses her off a little bit more.
But, she's entitled. She is.
Whatever.
He stares at her, and she sighs, breaking. "It's just...someone could have seen you! Then we'd both be kicked out for public indecency!" She cries.
It's the truth. Half truth, but oh well.
He hums. "Swan, do you really think that Granny would kick out the Savior? Especially when there's a bloody lunatic of a Witch out there-hell bent on terrorizing all of Storybrooke?" He rationalizes.
"It's possible." She argues back. "And, speaking of that "bloody lunatic Witch"," she starts. "We have to deal with her again today. So you need to let me take a shower and get dressed." She tries walking around him, but he steps in her way.
"I could take one with you." He states, the grin he is wearing wider than she's ever seen grace his face before.
"No, you can't."
"Then come back to bed, love. It's early still."
Ugh.
The man is stubborn as all hell.
Her match, completely.
Not that she'd admit it.
She sighs defeatedly.
"Fine, but only for a-" she breaks off mid-sentence in a shriek (not a very loud shriek, she might add, because after all, it's only like,7:30) when he grins and lifts her into his arms, dragging her bodily towards her bed.
"Gods, Swan, do you want to rouse the entire Inn? Clue them all into our activities?" He asks her, then he suddenly smirks and it's most likely the most evil she's ever seen him. He was a sucky villain. "Unless you're into that sort of thing?" He asks with a waggle of his eyebrows.
She slaps him hard on the chest.
"Oi!" He yells in astonishment. "I take it that's a no, then?" He asks, with a slight smile.
She glares at him in return.
"Just a quip, love." He smiles at her. "Now," he starts, moving so that his body covers hers. "Where were we?"
The grin that crosses his face can only be described as predatory.
Yet, she is far from being frightened.
Aroused, yes. Frightened, no.
He kisses her deeply, without conviction, and she responds with ardor, pushing up and arching her body against his.
He brings his hand up to caress the back of her head, and tilts it so that he can further deepen the kiss. When he pulls away to give her a moment to breathe in some much needed oxygen, he simply moves down her neck, pressing hot and wet kisses against it. His familiar scent-which she's come to recognize as rum and spice and perhaps even driftwood-surrounds her, which only adds to the ever growing heat just barely contained in her core.
He hand lowers to her breast, and the moment that he cups it, her phone rings. Shrill and annoying. They freeze, and he makes to move off of her, when she surges up and presses her lips insistently against his. "Ignore it." She murmurs against his lips.
He pulls back slightly. "But, Emma-"
"Ignore it."
He smiles at her. "As you wish."
He leans down and recaptures her lips between his. As they continue their more enjoyable activities, her phone rings about ten more times. Finally, she pushes up and reaches for the phone. Killian rolls off of her and falls back onto her pillow with a loud groan.
"You can't have one morning?" He asks, quirking an eyebrow.
She rolls her eyes at him, but she's grinning. She looks at the phone, and all of the calls are from David. Yet, he's left no voicemail or text message to clue her into thinking that whatever he wanted may be important. Most likely, he just wanted to make sure she actually went home alone last night.
Perceptive, David. But chill out.
The time is8:08, so she turns her ringer off, throws her phone back on the bedside table, and straddles the man lying beside her.
"Swan, what about your-" he starts, confused and aroused at the same time. She smirks down at him.
"And if it was important, he would have left a message. Now," she says, grinding her hips down on his to make her point (which is a little awkward considering sometime between her grabbing her phone and now, he'd slipped underneath the sheets). "Enough with the damn foreplay, Killian. I'm turned on. Are you gonna do something about it?"
He grins devilishly and yanks her under the sheets with him, then hovers above her. He slides underneath the sheets until his face is level with her core. He spreads her legs further, and presses his mouth against her. She moans sharply, which only encourages him further. She can't see him, nor he her, but somehow the situation just proves to make the both of them more turned on than they'd ever been.
Ever.
He licks a lazy stripe through her folds, and oh gods, she's so wet and it's all for him.
Or so he tells her.
He laps at her core and brings his hand up to her entrance, slipping a finger in easily. He curls it inside of her as she grinds her hips down on his hand. Killian and Emma's breathing reduced to heavy pants as their arousal reached its peak. Emma was moments away from coming and Killian began to move faster and faster, when all of a sudden, at exactly8:15 AMthere was a loud knock on the door.
A fucking knock on the door.
He stills his movements between her thighs, and she reaches down and grabs his wrist, pulling his hand away from her. He does so without hesitation. The knocking continues, along with a voice that calls, "Emma? Emma, are you awake?"
Of course.
It was David.
Caught by her father. How cliché.
She lifted the sheets, glared down at him and whispered, "Keep quiet! And keep your hands to yourself!"
He smirks at her. "Well, I guess it really bothers you if you don't come, eh, love?"
"Shut up!" She yells.
"Emma, you there? I'm coming in!" David's voice booms from the hallway.
Shit.
David enters the room, without hesitation, while Emma pulls the sheets hastily over herself, thoroughly concealing the pirate from plain view.
"Hi, David." Emma says, smiling brightly. "What's up?"
David narrows his gaze at her. "You didn't answer your phone." He accuses.
"I know, but you didn't leave a message, so I figured it wasn't that important."
"But-Zelena. She's out there. And you event home alone last night. We just thought..." David trails off. His expression a bit somber.
"I'm sorry, David. Really, I am." Emma responds, slightly guilt-ridden.
As the conversation is occurring, Killian's face still happens to be pressed up against Emma's core. While he is a gentleman, and wants to allow Emma a moment to console her father, he's still a pirate at heart.
And it'd be a shame not to make Emma squirm.
He loves her, god, he loves her, but when one is given the opportunity, one takes it.
So he does.
David graciously accepts his daughter's apology. Emma, wondering what could possibly have been so urgent for David to practically break into her room, asks, "So, what'd you want to tell me?"
"Oh, right." David replies. "Regina wanted me to let you know that we're all going to meet at her housetonight. For a meeting or something. She said to let you and Hook know."
"Oh, okay, well that sounds-oooh my god!" She breaks off mid-sentence and gasps.
Because Killian Jones has just licked her. In a very lustful manner.
Seriously?
"Emma, are you alright?" David asks, concerned.
"Um, I-I'm fine." Emma stammers out, trying to calm herself down. "I just had a-oh!"
Killian's tongue circles Emma's clitoris as she tries to explain herself to her father. He smirks against her as he feels, rather than hears, her reaction to his teasing.
When David leaves, she's going to kill him.
'Well,' he thinks. 'At least I'll die a happy man.'
"Emma, what is going on with you?" Her father demands.
"Nothing! I just-um...I'm not feeling too well. Must've ate something bad last night."
David's brow furrows. "We all ate together last night, remember? At Granny's."
"Yeah, just...something must have not agreed with me. It's fine. I'll be good to gotonight. See you at Regina's." Emma hastily blurts out.
'God, David, take the hint and leave. Please?'
"Well, okay." David responds, with a suspicious glint still in his eyes. "I'm just gonna go let Hook know. He's staying right across the hall, right?"
Code motherfucking red.
"No!" Emma yells. David turns and looks at her, shock evident on his face. "No. I mean, well, yes, he is staying there but, you can't go over there."
"I can't?" David asks, eyebrows raised.
"Well, you can, it's just-um...well, I saw him last night and he seemed to be going pretty heavy on the rum. He might not take too well to you barging into his room at daybreak." Emma quickly rambles the excuse as David looks at her, mildly offended.
"It's hardly daybreak." He scoffs. Then, he gives her a calming look. "But, I guess you're right. So, you'll tell him?" He asks, walking towards the door.
"Of course."
"Alright. Feel better." David says suspiciously. "I'll see youtonight."
"Yep." Emma smiles at him, and, with one last odd look thrown over his shoulder, David walks out, closing the door behind him. Emma listens for his retreating footsteps until she's sure he's out of earshot. She breathes out a sigh of relief.
Popping his head up from under the covers, Killian says, "That was a close one, eh, love?". He gives her a dazzling smile.
She's in no mood for his pirate-y charms. Not after what he just pulled.
"Seriously?" She screeches. "What the hell was that?!" She shrieks, hitting him soundly on the arm.
"Ow!" He replies indignantly, rubbing his arm. His face, the picture of innocence, stares up at her. "Whatever do you mean, my love?"
Emma Swan is not amused.
"Do you just like to get hit, or...?" She trails off, wondering just what kind of death wish the man before her had.
"No." He says, his tone laced with the petulance of a five year old who just got reprimanded for stealing the last chocolate chip cookie. His gaze then darkens with something very much akin to lust (who the hell is she kidding, it's all lust-and lo-shut up), and he runs his tongue over his teeth, before settling his lips into a seductive smirk.
"Well, I mean, unless you're into that sort of thing, then I guess I could-OW!"
Hit again.
"Do you even comprehend the complete anarchy that would ensue in this room, had my father found you under the sheets pressed against my...my..." She gestures below her waist with a flourish of her hand. "You know! Not to mention the utter mortification I'd've felt." She adds with a light pink tinge to her cheeks.
He sighs dramatically. "I'm sorry, then. I guess I was a bit...untoward given the circumstances."
She gives him a pointed look. "You guess?"
"I was. I know. I'm sorry." He says, giving her sad, little puppy eyes.
She scoffs, but there's a smile on her face. "Fine." She says. She gives him a soft kiss on the mouth, but pulls away before it can go any further, causing him to groan.
"But now we have to get up, so..." She begins to roll away from him to leave the bed, but he stops her, and yanks her back to him.
"Oh, no, no." He chuckles, looming over her. "I believe we have something to finish here, my dear."
He slides down the length of her body and his head disappears between her legs. The last thing she sees before he disappears is him winking at her.
Bastard.
An hour and a few more 'enjoyable activities' later, they're showered and getting dressed in her room.
She's just pulling on her shirt, when Killian saunters over to her (shirtless, she might add), snakes his arm around her waist and pulls her into his embrace. Ever since they...well, 'did it', he just can't seem to stop touching her. In any way he can.
Not that she minds it.
She definitely doesn't mind it.
Nope.
His face nuzzles into her hair, and then his mouth latches onto her neck, kissing and sucking his way down it.
"I haven't tired you out enough, yet?" She asks lightheartedly, a smile in her voice.
He chuckles against her skin. "Love, you will never tire me out." He emphasizes his statement with a quick and sharp bite to her pulse point and she gasps. As he soothes the wound with his tongue, she can swear she feels a smile on his face. He kisses her once more, then turns her in his arms and looks directly into her eyes. "I've waited entirely too long to simply have you. I'm always going to want you." He speaks softly, yet firmly. With a tiny smirk, he adds, "You'd do well to remember that.", tapping the tip of her nose with his index finger as he says 'you'. She smiles softly.
She casts her eyes downward in a small bout of embarrassment. She knows he loves her (that is abundantly clear), yet it still surprises her every time she catches a glimpse of just how much he loves her. It's scary, yet, at the same time, sort of fearless. And, for the first time in a long time (like really, really long time), she understands that...
She wants it to work.
And that simple thought is just petrifying in and of itself.
As her gaze falls further down, she notices something that she hadn't noticed the night before. (And, well, she was occupied, so no one can really blame her, now can they?) Her mouth falls slightly agape and she furrows her brows and narrows her eyes in confusion and wonder. He notices her expression of uncertainty and raises a brow in question, but as his gaze follows hers, he realizes just why she has such a strange look on her face.
She reaches a hand up and trails her fingertips along his right forearm, just above his wrist. She snaps her eyes up to his, the question clear in her eyes.
He stares back at her intently.
Donned upon the forearm that once clearly and permanently wore the name and mark of the first person he thought he loved, is a beautiful and intricate picture of a swan. The tattoo is outlined in the blackest of black inks, the body of the creature colored in the purest of whites, and it sits upon his arm as if it were floating on a crystal clear lake. It's lovely and had obviously been quite pricy and she feels her eyes beginning to brim with tears, but there is one thing that still confuses her.
"Why?" She breathes out.
He ducks his head a bit and gives her a shy and slightly sheepish smile. "Well, I uh..." He stammers and raises his hand to scratch behind his ear in an obvious apprehensive gesture. "I...I missed you. And I just thought-thought that maybe if I had something to remember you by...it wouldn't hurt as much. To be apart from you." The look in his eyes is definitely worried and scared, as if he is wondering if she will reject him for this. For caring so much about her. She wants to quell his fears, but she still needs to know more.
"How?"
"Magic." He states simply. She gives him a look, and he continues with a small sigh. "I paid a man to remove...what was there previously. Then I paid the same man to mark my skin with a token of remembrance for you. He did." He finishes in a hushed tone.
She looks at him with awe and a hint of hesitation. He stares back bravely, but she can still see signs of hesitation in his eyes.
With a sudden burst of blind courage, she asks, "But I thought...you-you loved-"
He interrupts her then, and presses a finger against her lips. "I know. I did. But what I said to you before, back in Neverland, and what I have been trying to make you understand ever since then, is that I have moved on from the past. I'm tired of living within it, tired of old ghosts. And yes, I do know that when I did this you yourself were naught but a ghost to me, and for God only knew how long you would have been, but I had let go of the past. I'd moved on." He cups her face with his palm as he speaks. "It is you that I want, and I love, Emma Swan. It is only you." He states firmly.
And she believes him.
She surges forward (because, come on, actions speak louder than words-and she's not too sure what words she'd say right now, what she should say, what she'd be able to say-) and captures his lips with her own in a hot, desperate, and passionate kiss.
He responds immediately.
And they don't leave the room for another thirty minutes.
After finally managing to disentangle herself from the (fucking) incredibly sweet, and surprisingly (okay, not surprisingly, but give her a break) whetted stamina-obtaining pirate in the guest bedroom at Granny's, Emma is on her way to her parents' loft to check up on Henry and, as she checks the time on her way past the clock tower, perhaps grab some lunch with him.
Talk about wasting the morning away in bed (in the most delicious of ways).
God, he really was rubbing off on her.
Literally.
No innuendo intended.
Though, she could practically feel it burning on the tip of her tongue.
Damn it.
It's weird for her to now, suddenly and apparently, be in a committed relationship. What she had in New York, well, that was fake. Feelings were real (on her side at least, ugh) but they were feelings created on the premise of a background of fake memories.
What a mouthful.
It's also odd that she really wants to talk to someone about it (that's never happened before, ever-), and there's literally no one she can talk to.
Everyone in the damn town is honestly limited to her mother (maybe when she'd been cursed, but hell no, not now), her father (god, no.), Regina (like she'd ever want to talk to her technical step-grandmother-so freaking weird-and her once upon a time arch nemesis about her sex life-no.), her mother's best friend, the grandmother of her mother's best friend, and a bunch of dwarves, who just so happen to be friends of her mother, as well.
Yeah, no.
And, yes, she knows she's left out a bunch of other people, but really, she was just going for the basics, and there's literally not one person in Storybrooke that she can talk to about this.
Her sad revelation is that, she, unfortunately, has no real friends in this town.
Pretty damn depressing if you asked her.
She looks across the street at just the very moment that she begins to pass Gold's Shop, and a brilliant idea strikes.
Well, maybe not brilliant, but oh well.
She determinedly changed her course and walked over to the pawn shop.
This may very well be one of the worst ideas she'd ever had but, as the overhead bell rang as she opened the door to the shop, she knew it was too late to go back on her ill-thought out plan.
As she shut the door, Belle looked up from the trinket she'd been dusting behind the counter and smiled at her.
"Hi, Emma." She said. "Do you have any news on the Wicked Witch, or Rumple?" She asked hopefully.
Really bad idea.
"No, not yet. I'm sorry." She told her with a sympathetic look. She felt like a terrible person, so selfish, wanting to talk about her newly discovered love life with this woman whose own true love had been enslaved to Wicked Witch for the past year.
She really was the bitch Regina had coined her as two years ago, wasn't she?
"Oh," Belle said, her face visibly falling. Oh, God. "That's alright. So why're you here, then?"
Emma swallowed. How on earth was she going to explain her predicament? 'Hey, Belle. Look, I know Rumpelstiltskin has been captured by Zelena and has become one of her minions, but I just had sex with the man who has tried to kill you twice last night and I needed to talk to someone about it, and since I have no actual friends here, I thought of you.'
Lord, that sounded so damn pathetic.
'Well,' she thought. 'Here goes nothing.'
"Actually, um," she started, with a nervous smile on her face. "I kind of wanted to ask you for some, um...advice."
Belle tilted her head and rounded the counter, gesturing for Emma to follow her around the back. "Advice? What for?" She asked.
"It's kind of embarrassing." She replied, with what could only be described as a grimace on her face.
"Well, I'm sure it's not embarrassing." Belle said with a smile. She sat down on a chair in the shop's back room and patted the seat of the one next to her, gesturing for Emma to take it. Emma sat down on the chair opposite Belle. "What is it?" The petite brunette asked her.
"Well, um..." She began, looking down towards her feet. Really, really bad idea. "It's about me and um-me and...Killian. Hook." She finished hastily, chancing a glance up at Belle's face.
Belle's eyes had narrowed considerably, and a slow, sly smirk appeared on her face as she cocked her head to the side. "So, you and Hook, huh?" She said with a soft smile as she ducked her head a bit, as if in embarrassment towards the topic at hand.
Which really should be ridiculous, considering the woman was true loves' with and living with the Dark One, for goodness' sakes.
But Emma had no right to judge, considering she was asking her for some pretty personal advice on a pretty personal topic, when the two of them had barely ever held a conversation before this.
"Yeah." Emma said with a tiny grin. "Wait, but how did you...?" She began, sincerely confused.
"Emma." Belle stated firmly, looking at her with a half bemused, half reprimanding expression, like one would wear when reprimanding an adorable child for sneaking too many cookies. "I think it's been quite obvious to almost everyone-and for a while-that this was going to happen eventually."
Emma was shocked. Seriously, had everyone realized this before her own damn, stubborn mind had?
"Really?" She asked incredulously. "I mean, how did you know? I didn't even..." She trailed off, not really knowing where she was heading. Thankfully, Belle did.
"Emma, it's obvious he truly cares for you. I mean, his face lights up whenever you're around, and no offense, you're a lovely person, but you're quite mean to him, and even then, he likes you." Belle responded with a soft smile. "And, I think-I think he might even...well, you know."
As Belle grinned at her, Emma became suddenly paralyzed with (and when she looks at it later, she'll use the word irrational) fear. Fear at the thought that he might actually love her (he obviously does-she added in the back of her mind), that she might actually love him back. And out of the comfort of that quiet darkened room, with his soft smiles and whispered declarations, she was hit with the reality that he might, quite possibly, hold in his hands the ability to break her. Break her into a thousand little pieces beyond hope of any repair, at any moment. She couldn't allow that. She wasn't strong enough for that. She'd have to end it, she decided, right then and there. She'd say her goodbyes to Belle and then head straight over to Granny's Inn and end...whatever it was they'd shared. He would understand, of that she was certain. And maybe they could still be friends or whatever, and Belle was the only one who knew, and certainly she wouldn't gossip, of course not and...
"Hey. Hey, Emma." Belle said, drawing her out of her downward spiral towards, well towards insanity. "Hey, look. I know it's scary. Thinking that you might have someone so completely...or even, that they might have you." The woman added perceptively. "It's a big leap, but...it's worth it. Love is worth it. Love is, a mystery to be uncovered. And you have to try. You have to let it unfold and run it's course. And maybe, maybe it'll stop and it will end, and it'll be devastating, but Emma...I've seen the way he looks at you and whether you'd like to admit it or not, the way you look at him, and trust me when I say...I think that this is it for you. For both of you." Belle gave her a steady look.
Emma exhaled heavily. For all intents and purposes, Belle had calmed her down, thank gosh. It would have been really awkward and really terrible if she had run over to Granny's and ended things with him before they'd even begun. She smiled gratefully at the woman before her. "Thank you, Belle." She told her.
"You're welcome." Belle smiled.
"I can't help but ask, but why are you being so nice towards him?" Emma asked her. "I mean, he did try to kill you. Twice."
Belle laughed. "Everyone deserves a chance at true love." At Emma's grimace, Belle hastily added, "Not that I'm saying it is true love, but there's always a possibility, you have to admit that." Emma nodded, if a bit reluctantly and Belle continued. "Plus, he seems to really have changed for you. And I know how hard that is. I mean, my true love is Rumpelstiltskin."
Both women laughed at that.
"Thanks Belle." Emma said genuinely.
"Why, you're welcome." Belle replied. "Now," she began, clapping her hands together and standing up. "Would you like a drink?" She asked inquisitively.
"A drink?" Emma blinked. "Why?"
"Well, so you can tell me all about your night with the pirate of course." She said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Emma, not a lot of people come over to talk to me, especially recently, and I've been locked up in either a castle or an insane ward in the basement of Storybrooke's hospital for more than thirty years of my life. And I'm only actually twenty eight." She laughed. "I need the sordid details." She widened her eyes for effect and cracked a grin. "Plus, Rumple hides MacCutcheon in here."
Emma smirked as she stood, and said, "Well, then, lead the way."
"Well, it appears our dear Savior has taken a liking to your Belle, my pretty, pretty one." An accented voice taunted in the damp and darkened room. Rumpelstiltskin glared as the voice in question came into his line of sight. The smirk on the woman's face was enough to make him want to rip her heart out, and slowly squeeze it, drawing out her pain and death for hours if he could. And he would, if he could.
And, sadly, this was the Dark One's predicament.
Zelena smiled as she reached Rumple's cage, and she brought to his face a glowing, crystal ball.
"Take a look inside, my dear Rumple." She began, grinning the whole while. "For this is the only chance you'll get to see her." She brought her face close to his as she continued. "Before I end your chances of ever being with her in the first place." She smirked.
"What are you saying?" Rumple questioned. "What's your game, dearie?" He spat out.
"All in due time, dear." Zelena said as she backed away and climbed up the stairs, leaving Rumple in the cellar. "All in due time."
Soooooooo, Zelena has made an appearance! Whooo! Creepy, huh? Hehe.
And, did "The Morning After" scene live up to your fantasies? I wanted to make it like Monica and Chandler in London in the Friends season four finale (Killian under those covers, anyone?), but you know, with a dirty twist, because, come on. Haha.
This chapter was mostly about Emma taking a look at everything outside of the heat of the moment and realizing that Killian truly loves her (damn, that tattoo), but also that she's almost completely broken, and she's got a long way to go before she can be it for him (at least in her mind, because, let's face it, she totally already is). There'll be a lot more relationship hurdles to go, along with a Wicked Bitch and more on Emma's fears towards commitment in future chapters, but enjoy the fluff and smug and Belle-Emma friendship while you've got it.
And, oh. Poor Killy still thinks he actually was in love with that ho-bag so long ago. For now, MWAHAHAHAHAHA. (You can tell how much I utterly abhor her, can't you? Hence, why she almost never exists in my fics. And certainly not my au's).
And, yeah, I know I said I thought Belle's age on the show is twenty-six in "Past the Meadow Brook" if you've read it, but keep in mind, it's been two years since the curse broke. I'm just keeping track of time.
Musical Inspiration: Lots and Lots of Christina Perri. Colin being in "The Words" music video gave me inspiration (that song is beautiful-and I just might write a fic based upon it-hehe). Mostly "Arms", hence the title.
Well, Happy Holidays. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Good tidings to all and to all a good day (it's not night where I am right now, so you see what I did there, ha. No? Okay, then). I'm off to watch the Disney Parks Christmas Parade on ABC (I hope it's as good as last year-Neil Patrick Harris hosting and Colbie Caillat performing=LEGEN-wait for it-DARY). Hopefully the next update won't take nearly as long as this one.