Combined two prompts: "You could have just taken the stairs." "Emma and Killian are courting, but they must always have a guard with them whenever they go out together. One day, they find a way to ditch the guard." 500 words or less.
With the formal announcement of their courtship, her disguise became useless. It wouldn't do for Lieutenant Joneswise to be seen cavorting around Theed with another woman, let alone one of the Princess' handmaidens - and even then, some of the more astute citizens would quickly put two and two together.
It was infinitely irritating, but she was just as tired of sneaking around as he was.
More irritating was the insistence that all of their time together be spent in the company of her personal guards. Oh, she knew the reasoning. Captain Panaka's enthusiastic rise to Moff of the Chommell sector led to some suspicion by the RSF of internal Empire spies. Her infrequent secret meetings with the resistance leaders confirmed the suspicions as truths. So they did what they could to thin the information trade, including rotating troops with increasing frequency.
But Killian wasn't an Empire spy. He couldn't be.
If he was, she'd kill him herself.
But today was too much. She absolutely could not pretend that she could keep her hands to herself today, or listen to her guard for the day chuckle at stories he or she wasn't supposed to overhear. (Or watch Killian's jaw clench and his hands clasp behind his back in an effort to maintain a good appearance.) So she sent Elsá with a message for Killian to meet her outside at sundown, and went to work making up Kathreen to look like the Princess.
It was almost too easy.
Emma made sure her cloak was up. Elsá's job was clear: tell anyone who came to check that the Princess wasn't to be disturbed and Kathreen had gone to lay down with a migraine. Emma was sure the whole thing would fall to pieces instantly, but it would be worth it for a few minutes alone.
She peeked over the edge of her balcony; the way was clear so far, but hopefully Killian would be meeting her soon. She attached the hook of her grappling gun to the rail, and took a deep breath, gathering her courage. She swung herself out and over the edge, letting the line lower her down.
Halfway down, the line jammed. Emma panicked, her sweaty grip not helping the situation in the least, and smacked the side of the gun, hoping it would loosen the reel. No such luck. She cursed under her breath, looking to judge how far it would be to drop, how much it would hurt. Maybe twenty feet at most? Did people break limbs from twenty feet?
Footsteps in the courtyard startled her. "Shit," she muttered.
She was in luck: it was Killian. "Killian!" Emma whisper-shouted.
His eyes widened and he raced over. "Emma, what the bloody hell -"
She grinned and pressed the release on the grappling hook, letting herself fall hard into his arms. They toppled to the ground, landing with twin grunts of surprise. "You know, you could have just taken the stairs," Killian said breathlessly.
"And miss all this adventure?" Emma teased.