From the prompt list: "This is not something a parent teaches their child," with both CS and KnightRook! 3
7. Blunt the knives (that's what Killian Jones hates)
Turning the key in the lock, Emma entered her house, her head filled with a whirlwind of contrasting thoughts, their weight threatening to overwhelm her. It wasn't that they were horrible thoughts, not at all, it just was difficult for her to wrap her head around them. It also didn't help that she was scared.
Worrying a lower lip that had seen better days between her teeth, she hung her jacket on the coat rack next to the door along with her bag – a bag! Emma Swan owned a bag! And not a purse for a night out, a bag! No, wait, more than one!
A smile pulled at her lips. Many things had changed since the day she was born: from mere orphan, she'd become a brilliant woman, a sheriff, and had a loving family, friends she cold trust with her own life. Her heart fluttered thinking about her family, the undying love for them quenching her fears.
Everything's gonna be alright, she told herself, squaring her shoulders and following the laughter she heard. The sound led her to the kitchen, where her smile faded and her skin paled visibly.
Standing in front of their daughter, who was perched on the kitchen island with her socks-covered feet dangling and her blonde hair tied in a messy braid – Killian was getting better, and you'd think a former Navy man would be good with braiding his daughter's hair.
What shocked her, though, was that they weren't cooking, no, they were sharpening knives.
Before Emma could even open her mouth, Alice spotted her, her blue eyes widening in delight. «Mama!» she exclaimed, dangerously placing the small but sharp knife on the marble counter and trying to squirm her way down the island when her father's arm sneaked around her waist, keeping her in place.
«A-ah, Starfish, not so fast. What did I tell you?» Killian gently reminded her, nodding his head towards the forgotten knife.
Alice pursed her lips, grabbing the knife and carefully sliding it into the wooden knife block. Killian nodded and freed her, letting her jump down the island and run towards her mother.
From her part, Emma was completely stunned. So much, in fact, that it even took her a few seconds to wrap her arms around her daughter after she'd wrapped her bony ones around her waist. Blue eyes were glancing up at her, a wide smile lighting up not only Alice's face but Emma's whole world as well.
«Hey, baby,» she greeted her, crouching in front of her and showering her face with kisses. Emma was rewarded with a fit of giggles. «How are you?»
«I'm perfectly fine, Mama,» Alice replied, using her mother's question to get her revenge and plant kisses all over her face.
Emma hummed, her smile never leaving her face. She loved having quiet moments with her family, and greetings after work were one of the best parts of her day. «How was school? Did you do anything you like today?»
Alice had started nodding even before she finished her sentence. «Yes! I've painted!» she exclaimed before leaning forward and cupping her hand around Emma's ear to whisper in a low voice: «I didn't even show Papa.»
Another thing Emma loved was that Alice would talk about her school day only when both she and Killian were at home. On days Killian needed to fly out to New York or somewhere else to be a guest on food shows – he didn't get two Michelin stars for nothing – she would tell them only when Killian was facetiming them, the two blondes curled up in bed with mugs of hot chocolate as a method to soothe the pain of their man being so far away from them.
«Then why don't you grab your painting so me and Papa can see it?»
Sneaking away from her mother's arms, Alice immediately rushed upstairs.
Emma stayed there, watching her bouncing braid disappear from her sight. Then, she straightened up, crossing her arms in front of her chest, thin blonde eyebrows arched in question. She was trying not to exactly glare at him, probably failing. However, Killian didn't seem fazed as he kept sharpening the knife on the metal… thing. Sharpener. Whatever.
«Hello, love,» he greeted her, a warm smile on his lips as he briefly lifted his eyes to look at her from beneath his eyelashes. It was unfair: his stupid face should be considered illegal. How could she stay mad at him?
Sheer willpower, she reminded herself, biting back the smile and drowning the butterflies that had started to fly around her stomach. Ripping their wings off was too dramatic. Could butterflies drown, though?
«Hello, my love,» she replied sweetly, perhaps a bit too much. «Care to tell me about what were you doing just before I walked in?»
Killian shrugged slightly. How could he do that while rapidly sharpening that bloody knife at the same time? What, you earned that ability with Michelin stars? No, alright, it's the other way around. But still. «I was merely teaching her how to sharpen a knife, love. She already knows how to cut vegetables perfectly, without cutting her fingers. This was the next logical step.»
The various faded and almost invisible scars on her fingertips seemed to itch at his words. «This is not something a parent teaches their child,» she retorted, lifting her chin.
The moment Killian arched his eyebrow – that should be considered illegal, too – Emma knew she was about to lose the battle. «You taught her how to pick locks, love.»
And that was why.
«It's not the same thing!» she huffed, knowing he was partially right. But only partially. «It's just… she could've hurt herself, Killian.»
Placing down the knife and sharpener – definitely not in the block – Killian stepped closer, his hands going one to her waist and the other at the base of her jaw, fingers threading through her hair. «You know I would die myself before I let our Starfish get hurt, don't you? This goes even for just a little nick from a sharpened blade.»
Yes, Emma knew that: her husband was something akin to a hawk every time he let Alice help him in the kitchen, and Emma had never not trusted him. Besides, she should've known this day would soon come. It also meant she could have a bargain chip when wanting to teach Alice some self-defense moves – which Killian would totally support, but still.
Sighing, she nodded, leaning forward to kiss him, the tension of the day washing off of her immediately. Emma smiled into the kiss, losing herself, her thoughts now focused on her husband and her husband only, on how he swiftly moved his tongue over her lower lip and how soft his own were, his stubble scratching her skin in a delicious way.
She loved kissing Killian, probably because she'd never known how meaningful and wonderful kisses were until she met him. Yeah, Killian Jones turned her world upside-down, and she was perfectly okay with it.
As she heard footsteps getting close, Emma smiled and pressed one last kiss to the corner of his mouth before slightly pushing Killian away. «Go put away your toys, our Starfish demands our presence.» She didn't miss the way his eyes were sparkling and he looked enraptured. Good, I still have it.
He nodded, turning around and finishing sharpening the last knife, the metallic sounds following her out of the kitchen. She was about to follow an excited Alice in the living room when a wicked idea seeping into her mind. He would forgive her. Eventually.
Emma took a step back and popped her head over the doorframe. The sounds had stopped, signal that he was testing the blade's sharpness.
«By the way, I hope you'll teach your other child how to cut vegetables and sharpen knives.»
A loud curse accompanied her while she headed towards the living room. However, she never made it, because Killian's arms wrapped around her and spun her around while keeping her close to his wide chest, a happy laugh escaping her lips.
(She might have not cared about the blood stain Killian had left on her favourite white sweater, but there was nothing wrong in making him pay a little for the scare he'd given her by making him thoroughly wash it with his own bare hands.)
(It also may or may not have been a faithful reminder of how they'd met in the first place.)
(Gotta love a man who can ably wash blood off white clothes.)