Yikes, longest chapter yet.
I hope you like part 2 of Emma and Killian's New York Adventures!
"Hey, do you have case files from a couple of weeks back?"
"Sure...you know I do."
Emma looked confused for a moment, eyeing Ruby suspiciously as she leaned in over the desk. A restless edge was woven into her friend that worried Emma.
"Could you get me a copy of Robert Henderson's arrest sheet?" Ruby asked. "Court needs it for the trial tomorrow afternoon."
"You could've asked Graham. He has all the hard copies."
"Oh, really?"
Toying with a strand of hair, Ruby tried her best, and failed, to appear clueless. Her angelic mask was threatened by the small smirk pulling at her red lips.
A hint of annoyance worked its way into Emma, and she folded her arms over her chest. "Uh huh." She said dryly. Sensing Ruby wasn't cracking just yet, Emma leaned forwards and lightly poked a now-grinning Ruby in the ribs.
"Fess up. What are you snooping into?"
She dropped the innocent act in a split second.
"Fine, I'm snooping into you." Ruby wiggled an eyebrow. With no care for subtly, she quickly moved closer and pushed a desk divider aside to take the spare seat opposite Emma's desk. She then crossed her legs, showing off lean muscle beneath sheer tights, and greeted Emma with a forthright look that could only spell trouble. "I came over to find out if you enjoyed your Irish surprise awaiting you this morning?"
Emma, too surprised to scold Ruby's shameful ways, allowed her eyes to widen in confusion. "You knew?" She accused.
"Come on, now. Why do you think Graham let you off the hook so easily?"
"Graham knew?"
Ruby winced. "Oh, hon, nearly everyone in the office knew."
"Great."
"Isn't it just?" Another voice added cheerfully. Mary-Margaret popped around the desk, with Belle following a few steps behind, and quickly joined the other two women armed with two coffee mugs and guilty looks.
Emma groaned. "You knew? Both of you knew, and you kept it hidden?" She was frustrated now. How the hell had she been so clueless to their sly grins and purposeful encouragement earlier on?
Wait.
Earlier, hadn't Mary-Margaret said, 'Say hello to Killian for us'.
Damn it.
The evidence was piling up now, and Emma hid the urge to groan again.
"Blame Ruby. She has a big mouth."
"It has its perks."
Belle let out a quiet giggle. "Gross."
Turning away from Ruby, who was only half now fighting back a smug grin, Emma continued to listen carefully to her roommate as she searched for the disregarded file.
"Look, Killian phoned a few nights ago and said he was coming over. Told me to keep it a secret. I simply gave him a hotel recommendation or two, told him where to find you at the harbour, and let him go his merry way. Thank god you actually went there. Otherwise, awkward."
"Right."
"So, are you seeing Killian later?"
"Ruby!" Mary-Margaret gasped. She slapped a hand across Ruby's shoulder but the gesture was carefree and playful, more of a friendly warning than a definite hit. "Leave it alone."
"We may be having dinner-"
"But-"
Emma shook her head firmly, still digging around in the archives for the required case file. "Uh uh. Just dinner, that's all we've arranged."
A pregnant paused lingered, and when she finally dug out the file and triumphantly handed it to Ruby, Emma noticed the strange look on her friend's face. Somewhat torn between secrecy and glee, Ruby's smile was vacant, but the usual glint in her eyes sparkled. It did little to soothe Emma's worries.
"What now?" Emma muttered.
She shot Mary-Margaret and Belle another accusing look, to which both women held up their hands in surrender.
"I know nothing." Belle's grin wavered. She tossed Emma an apologetic look. Definitely a previous victim of Ruby's meddling, Belle had been on many double dates and late night parties all in the name of friendship, and she sympathized greatly with Emma's uncertainty.
Mary-Margaret also looked clueless. "Same here, my dear." She sighed. "If I knew what the she-devil was planning, I'd let you know in an instant."
"She-devil." Ignoring the frustrated looks from the others, Ruby tapped a finger against her lips in thought. "I like that."
"I'll have business cards printed immediately." Emma scowled.
She was in no mood for games, or whatever Ruby was hinting at in an unsubtle manner.
"Eh." The game was left undecided as Ruby quickly took the file from Emma, with the vague look of someone clearly distracted by matters elsewhere. "You'll see...or not."
Waving goodbye, she threw a happy grin over her shoulder that Emma felt compelled to return. No matter what Ruby planned, or schemed and smirked over, she was carefree and a delight to be around. Right now, Emma accepted all and any support offered with quiet gratitude. Ruby had been a friend for years, and was practically a sister by now. And as she'd had so helpfully reminded Emma, she hadn't dated in forever, and perhaps a relative expert on that field ought to be a perk that Emma should risk listening to.
Even if it came gift-wrapped in smirks and secretive looks.
Ruby's smile grew genuine as she waved farewell. "Walk out with me after work?"
"Sure."
"Good." Turning to leave, Ruby called out, ", because I have a drop dead gorgeous outfit planned for you..."
Hell.
"See you tomorrow!"
"Bye, guys."
"And Emma, best of luck tonight! Let us know how it goes."
Tugging the lapels of her red coat tighter, Emma threw a little wave towards Belle and Mary-Margaret as they rounded the opposite corner, heading off homeward bound.
"Thanks, will do." She called. "Have a good night."
Swiping their I.D cards to log their exit from the station, Ruby and Emma layered up against the late afternoon. They paused for a moment, as always, to gather their items from the foyer lockers. Whilst Emma was occupied burying a half-completed file into the depths of her locker - she really needed to sort out her items sooner or later - Ruby nudged her and nodded outside.
"Speaking of…"
Oh.
Leaning against the wall like some goddamn male model, Killian stood, casually waiting outside, as though it were the most natural fashion to be propped up against a police station with dark, messy hair that deserved to be tugged on, and-
"Emma,"
Ruby dug her elbow into Emma's ribs again, and she jumped with a start. A sharp pain spread as she bit her lip.
"Aren't you going to introduce me to this deliciously fine specimen?"
This is so not going to end well.
"Shh,"
Aware of the slim distance between them, Emma tore her anxieties away from Ruby's little snipes and teases, and smiled at Killian, hoping it seemed welcoming and not surprised. His arrival was a shock, but a hopeful shock to the system. He had this wonderful habit of showing up uninvited. Besides, Emma was always unable to deny Killian a smile.
"I think this is considered stalking, Jones."
His answering chuckle was friendly. "Apologies," He grinned, though he looked about as far from apologetic as one can be standing outside a police station.
"How did you find me?"
Killian's side glance betrayed him. He glanced over at Ruby, and the pair shared a guilty grin. "I shall have to pass the blame to this lovely lass over here."
"You told him?"
"Maybe."
Ruby looked even the less apologetic. She shrugged, ignoring Emma's incredulous look, and offered Killian a hand to shake. Whilst she did so, Ruby shamelessly appreciated every inch of him, head to toe, before warmly returning Killian's smile. "It's a pleasure to meet my partner in crime in person."
He shook her hand. "Ruby, I assume?"
"You assume correctly, Killian. My, my, you're even more handsome in person."
Quit flirting.
Emma quickly denied the jealousy streak flickering over her.
Yet it made itself known quite clearly.
A bitter taste in the back of her mouth flamed as Ruby and Killian chatted for a few moments. She knew, of course, that Ruby was being friendly and Killian, simply returning the friendly discourse, but it did little to sooth the darts of scarlet and red flashing across Emma's vision. Tiny sparks caused her nails to grip into her clammy palms.
"Well, it's been great to finally meet you. I'll leave you two kids alone. See you back at ours in a bit?"
Ruby didn't give her a moment to reply. She merrily shot Emma the thumbs up and threw a tie-dye red and orange scarf over her shoulders. "Great." She winked at Emma, blatantly aware of Killian's eyes on the pair, and breezed on, "Au reviour, my darlings."
By now, the breeze had died down to a low, mellow whisper, and Emma unbuttoned her coat with shaky fingers, refusing to meet Killian's gaze until they'd stilled.
She looked up and quickly took a moment to appreciate him in all his tall, dark and far too handsome glory. Still dressed in the outfit he'd worn earlier, Killian had layered up with a black leather jacket, and the addition defined his muscular top form as well as adding an edgy, rocker vibe that had Emma wetting her lower lip with a swipe of a tongue.
Upon reflection, she denied any attraction, of course.
When he finally spoke, Killian had moved closer, legs almost touching, and addressed her in his usual low tone, "So,"
"So."
"It would seem that your charming devil has seemed to plant our date right under our noses."
Emma raised an eyebrow. After all, what more could Ruby have possibly done now?
Tiny puffs of white air escaped Killian's lips as he spoke, and created small shapes and swirls around the pair, as though they were entirely surrounded and isolated in their own little world. His lips pulled into a bemused smile as he took notice of Emma's confused look. He began to explain, "The hotel that Ruby directed me towards, Bryant Park-"
"Are you kidding me?!" Emma cut off sharply. "She directed you there?"
We are so having words.
"It's comfortable."
Good, it should be. For $300 per night, it should damn well include butler service and free trips to the moon!
Emma scoffed. "That's putting it mildly."
"Right. Well, uh..."
After a pause, Killian scratched the back of his neck as he removed a piece of small card from the back of his trouser pocket. The nervous gesture was rather adorable, and Emma tilted her head. She watched in amusement as he, an incredibly handsome and self-assured grown man, quite literally shuffled like a schoolboy.
"Anyway, the hotel is holding a dinner and dance, and I was, well, I was hoping it'd be a nice place to go for tonight…?"
Killian's words hung anxiously in the air, dancing and dipping alongside the white, whispered air. He held the card invitation out towards her with uncertainty flickering in his blue eyes. After a moment, Killian scratched, this time, the back of his left ear, which caused Emma to groan inwardly.
Definitely far too adorable for a grown man.
She was tempted to make a teasing remark about his nerves. However, at the same moment Emma took the handed invite, she grew suddenly aware of her own heartbeat pounding away like a broken machine. The rather irregular heartbeat pounded against her rib cage. Surprisingly, after that, Emma's quip froze on her lips.
Something in Killian's body language mirrored her own. The clammy palms, and the rounded shoulders waiting to rise with joy. They were all gestures Emma knew too well. The anticipation was cheerful, however, at least on her part.
Emma's reply was almost instant. "Sounds great."
She praised the way her voice sounded calm. Slightly raised in pitch, but surely Killian couldn't notice the nervous catch. "Fancy, but great. Dress code?"
Killian's head shot up, and it took all Emma's resolve not to close the distance completely and draw his head down to hers and kiss him with a growing, and burning, desperation; to test the electricity blossoming between them. She wasn't to blame though. Killian's grin, gestures, and well, basically, everything, were far too alluring and seductive to be legal.
"Expensive."
She caught Killian's half-smile, half grimace – with a crinkled temple, but a little smile - and let out a laugh.
"As I feared. I wonder if I can find a dress worthy of such class on such a short notice."
"Swan, I suspect you'd look exceptional in a rag."
Her reply had been a quip, but Killian's expression was so serious and unashamed that Emma couldn't argue. Except with a light flush echoing her pleasure. Now it was her turn to shuffle a little as she avoided meeting his gaze, which was no doubt, triumphant.
"Meet you there?" She asked quietly.
"How about I pick you up, say…seven?"
"I can't remember giving out my address, Jones."
Once again, the roles were reserved as Killian sheepishly held up a small piece of paper. "Ruby slipped me this before."
Damn minx.
"She's far too good." Emma mumbled, and then pulling her attention back to a pleased Killian, she tilted her head again and smiled, "Fine. 7 it is. See you then."
Killian raised her hand to his lips.
The exact moment they brushed against the back of her hand, Emma felt that rushing urge to draw Killian closer and closer. The intimacy of the gentle moment also startled Emma. Eye contact used to seem awkward and uncomfortably personal, but Killian's sure gaze on hers was sparking sensations and thoughts that Emma hadn't known she'd had the chance to feel.
"Until 7, my love." Killian said lowly, lips moving against her hand.
He then pulled away with another wide grin that caused Emma to shake her head and flush all over again.
Watching Killian disappear down the road, Emma was positively certain she was, now, way in over her head. Any desire to run was overruled. Even her walls seemed to protest little. She stared down at the pale blue dinner invitation for a moment, waiting for the sense of normalcy to return. The dream-like sensation was still woven into the night like a fairy-tale.
A dinner-dance date. Talk about a fairy-tale.
Suddenly, Emma's grin faded into a panicked groan as she noted the dress code.
Dress.
I don't have-
Unfortunately, Emma was certain she knew at least one person who was close enough to ask for a dress to borrow...
"Damn it."
Shame about her pride.
"God give me strength." Emma muttered half an hour later.
Firmly wedged between the privacy of her room, and Ruby's desperate pleas for her to just get her ass out here already, Emma felt her arms close over her chest protectively.
It was useless. The dress left little to the imagination as it was already. Trust Ruby to encourage this choice. With a curve-hugging empire dress, the borrowed outfit - dazzling bright red in colour - was fitted with a charming V-neck; softly flowing out at the waist into a floor-length skirt. Simplistic, but gorgeous, Emma couldn't deny the flattering perks of the dress. Whether it was first date material was the question buzzing through her mind.
"I asked for an evening dress, Ruby." She shouted through the door, wincing. Even the simplest movement amplified her curves. "This is a super snazzy hotel, not a prostitution gathering."
"Come out. Let me have a look at you! Then you can keep yelling at me."
"No."
"Please." Ruby begged. Upon hearing silence in return, Ruby tried again, more firmly this time. "Fine then. How about I refuse to let you try on another dress until you give me an excuse not to wear that one? Exactly. I win. Come on out, gorgeous."
"Fine, but then I'm changing." Relapsing with one final sigh, Emma unlocked her bedroom door.
She stepped out into the living room and was greeted with a stunned Ruby staring at her with an open mouth. A few moments passed and a flattered smile overcame Emma's thin-set lips. Whether her friend was being ridiculous or genuine, it was still hard not to smile. Unfolding her arms in defeat, Emma relaxed and waved a hand in-front of her roommate's gaze. "Hello? Earth to Ruby."
The other woman let out a sly wolf-whistle. "Holy shit. I knew you had a hot bod hidden under those jackets." Ruby nodded approvingly. She clapped her hands together in a rather cute victory dance that almost, but not quite, made the low-cut dress forgivable. "Way to go, Emma."
Tugging at said dress, Emma pulled at the sides with careful fingertips. She was usually confident wearing tight, revealing or risqué clothing, but this dress was something else entirely.
It's too A-list celebrity, red carpet, she thought anxiously. Talk about trying too hard.
"But, it's so..."
"Ravishing? Sexy? Hot?"
"Revealing." Emma finished. She paid no attention to Ruby's waggling eyebrows and continued to toy with the waistline. If a flaw was found, her argument would be a whole lot easier. Without one, it would be difficult to deny Ruby's persistence.
"Oh, hush, and quit fidgeting." Ruby laughed then, and began to manoeuvre the dress, adjusting the V-neck by pulling the knot tighter to cover a little more skin. She then took a step back to admire her handiwork. "There you go." She beamed. "Minimal cleavage."
"I can still see them."
"What are you, five? You have amazing boobs. Use them, for god's sake. Killian will be a simpering puppet in your hands."
Emma felt an eyebrow quirk up again. "Seriously? Boobs? Who's the child now?"
"Boobs, breasts, tits, gorgeous round orbs." Ruby clicked her tongue against her teeth in frustration. "Whatever you call them, Emma, you have them, so in the great name of love, use them!"
She winced when she caught sight of her image in the floor length mirror. It was all a little too much. Truthfully, Emma felt confident and rather hopeful for the evening, but considering the lack of respect others treated men and women daily, the inner cynic in her began to freak.
"I would like him to address my face, not...this..."
"Trust me," Ruby cut her off again, her tone and smile reassuring as she touched a gentle hand against Emma's shoulder.
"If Killian is half the gentleman he claims to be, he'll respect you." She turned her towards the mirror fully and Emma captured Ruby's supportive grin behind her before her friend continued, "He'll take a peak, but hell, so did I. And I'm firmly on the road to Straightville."
"You sure?"
"I have my exceptions."
At that, both women cracked into a fit of laughter, and when they were finished, Emma took another look in the mirror and pulled a little straighter.
"Fine, you win." She surrendered, and was immediately greeted with a squeal and an attack hug from Ruby.
"Thank the lord."
Ding.
Before Emma could make a quipping remark, the doorbell announced Killian's presence with one precise, clear bell. She pulled away from Ruby. Sudden anxiety began returning in the back of her throat, and it shot through her already weak legs, numbing them to stillness. It then quickly travelled across any bare skin available, tingling her feet and numbing her fingertips.
"Hey, relax." Ruby comforted. "You'll have a great time, Emma, I'm sure," She grabbed her coat and Emma took it gratefully; shrugging it on in what was definitely a record speed. The anxieties continued to bubble and dance away, ", and just call me if you need anything at all, okay?"
Ruby's smile was so supportive and encouraging that Emma felt close to tears. She slipped her friend into another one-armed hug before rushing off to the door, becoming more and more aware that Killian may assume she'd cancelled or even worse, completely forgotten.
"See you later! And thank you! Ruby, really. You're a life saver."
"Thank me later."
Emma rolled her eyes. "We're dining." She reminded Ruby, preparing for another saucy remark.
"And after?"
"Dancing."
"Oh, " Ruby, who had begun filling a glass at the kitchen, turned back, grinned, and raised her drink in salute. ", that's what they're calling it these days. Dancing."
And there it is.
"I already regret thanking you." Emma retorted, but the usual playfulness was relaxing.
Giving herself a brief once-over, she tamed a flick of wild, blonde hair over her shoulder, smoothing out her coat, and finally, opening the door to receive Killian.
As soon as the door swung open, he lit up. That was the truth. In fact, the only accurate comparison would be to a flickering candle. One assumes it has burned out, but then the flame flickers, dancing between light and dark, before returning with a light stronger than before, and Killian's eyes brightened the room completely.
"Emma."
She'd felt under a spotlight before, but the way Killian looked at her was beyond flattering. As though she were another candle with a light even brighter and more radiant than his own. A fellow, kindred spark. Strong individually, but even more so together.
He spoke her name and thrilled sparks began to twist and turn into a fully grown fire. Everything was heated in that moment, and Emma could feel the smile growing wider; lifting every anxiety and worry away as though they were tiny paper lanterns. They seemed light and irrelevant now, in the way of a burning sunset that was Killian's presence in, not just tonight, but in her life. To think she'd known him a few months seemed surreal. It seemed longer, a life-time too short even.
"Jones."
"Ready?"
She mastered the art of hiding the heart's reaction, but keeping her smile warm, Emma took his offered arm with a quiet, "Let's go."
If he thought she looked beautiful before, when they arrived at the hotel's set-up restaurant for the evening and Emma stripped of her coat, Killian had to fight back speechlessness for the first time in his busy life. He hid the slacked jaw and glazed over eyes by removing his own coat, fumbling to move across the table and pull out her chair. He managed to still steal a glance every moment that he could.
It was now a known fact.
Emma Swan was a vision in red.
The dress, and she, were, putting it simply, criminally stunning. Simple and elegant was underrated these days, but Emma wore the floor-length gown with a vintage style of class and confidence. Killian found it a challenge to tear his gaze away from the pinched waist and the long legs peeking out in the material's careful slit. However, once he caught her expression, so at peace and lost in her own mirrored moment, Killian found it hard to simply look away from Emma.
"Thank you." She said quietly. Taking the seat he'd quickly pulled out, and beginning to flick through the menu, she covered her flushed cheeks with the top of the card.
Wondering how his good fortunes had led him here, Killian smiled. "Pleasure."
They discussed the menu for a minute or two until a young, light-haired waiter came by and greeted them. Killian pointedly glared at the man when he lingered on Emma's chest a moment too long until the man stammered and looked away. The pair then ordered drinks - Killian, a cider, and Emma, a glass of Italian red wine - before they ordered starters and mains and were then left alone again.
A few moments were filled with exchanged looks that could only be described as somewhere between heated and shy.
Killian cleared his throat. "May I ask you something, Swan?"
His tone was serious, and Emma tilted her head at him, swirling a finger around the rim of her glass.
"You may." She said coyly.
"Do you ever wonder about your parents? Where they are, where they live now. Have you ever considered wanting to track them down? I'm certain you have many questions you want answered."
The subject was rather abrupt, but Emma felt oddly comfortable with it and shrugged. "I have. A lot, actually." She admitted, slowly tracing the glass rim. "It was an open adoption as well, so they'd be rather easy to find. I suppose...I've not given it much thought."
"Any idea what it is that's holding you back?"
"My family. I mean, obviously not my biological family, but...I already have a family now. Ruby, Belle, Mary-Margaret..."
You.
Emma frowned at the sudden thought and rushed on. "I just don't see what use it would do now, you know? What's the point? They gave me up, so I doubt they're too fussed whether or not I show up at their doorstep twenty-eight years later."
Silent for a moment, and considering her words, Killian took a gulp of his drink before settling the glass down and grinning. "What if they were, in fact, FBI agents, and in desperation, gave you up to protect you from the lifestyle?"
"Or they're time-travelers." Emma joined in, playfully leaning forwards over the table and widening her eyes. "On a secret mission from the future."
"I think you're onto something, Swan. So, what happened? Did they accidentally leave you in the past, and now they're secretly growing up beside you?"
"How terribly unprofessional."
Killian threw his head back and laughed, attracting the attention of a handful of giddy young women eyeing him shamefully in-front of their own dates. Hiding her own smile behind her glass, Emma sipped at her wine for a few moments. She stared down at the swirling liquid to gather up the courage for her next words.
"I reckon they were scared." She spoke thoughtfully.
"How so?"
"Perhaps they were too young. Or too old." She carried on, pulled along by a sudden stream of possibilities. "What if they had frowning parents and their social differences destroyed their chance of having a family?"
"Like Romeo and Juliet?" Killian teased.
Emma grimaced, and made a nauseated face into her glass. "God, I hope not. I hated that play at school."
"You too?"
"My soul mate."
Staring at her for a moment in amusement, Killian chuckled, low and happy, before extending his glass towards Emma.
"I'll drink to that." He offered, and she clinked her own glass against his in agreement.
Even the implication of discussing her family so casually with any other person seemed impossible. Then again, as Emma had quickly and happily discovered, discussing anything with Killian was easy. He'd mastered the art of listening, and to someone like Emma, who struggled with trust in relationships, it was a flattering approach in showing interest. Whether it were teasing remarks or serious discussion, Killian made it a hell of a lot easier to talk to him than anyone she'd ever known. Emma felt it only polite to return the interest.
"So, do your family live nearby?"
She instantly winced at the careless phrasing and use of the word family, given Killian's losses, and stumbled to correct herself before causing any damage. "I mean, your parents...do you parents live near to you? In Ireland? Obviously, they're not here with you...right?"
God, I'm sorry.
She stared furiously at her wine, urging it to spurt life and leap out and drown her words.
"Aye, they do." Killian replied, showing little sign of being affected by Emma's words other than a confused little head tilt he threw her way. "We grew up in Dublin, but my mother was always fond of the North, especially Belfast."
His voice dropped a notch quieter, and she noticed the distance glaze clouding his bright eyes. "Three months after Liam's accident, my father left us, and so we then moved up to Belfast for a few years. God knows where he is now. Turns out my father found his solution to pain inside a whiskey bottle, whereas I found mine in a guitar."
"Healthier."
Killian returned her comment with a small smile. "I thought so too."
"And that was it? You never heard from our father again?"
"Not once. I, well, I done many things I regret after Liam's death. I lashed out at a lot of people who cared about me. My mother and father included."
Emma hadn't realised she'd reached out until she felt his hand slip into hers across the table, and she traced small circles against his knuckles, hoping to express the support she couldn't verbalize.
He smiled, carrying on with their hands entwined.
"Sooner or later, I realised it wasn't just me grieving. My mother saw through whatever childish facade I threw in her face over and over again, however, my father…was less understanding. Seemed to think I was an insolent brat with no bloody reason to be kicking up a fuss at all. He grew darker after Liam's accident. Never violent or abusive, but there was always that underlining darkness lingering underneath. I was glad when he left, at least for my mother. She deserved more, and when we moved up to Belfast, she welcomed the change, and so did I."
Killian looked up at her, and as his eyes glistened with unshed tears, Emma tightened her grip around his hand, wishing there was something else. Taking a leaf from his own book, she simply listened with, hopefully, an open look of encouragement.
"No one deserves that kind of loneliness, Swan." He said quietly, and the guarded side of Emma began tumbling down. "Having an open heart in this world is the best form of bravery, and after we moved, I vowed to stay open-minded and open-hearted."
He cleared his throat, scratching a hand along his shirtsleeve. "After all, the past can only pain you if you let it."
At that moment, the waiter returned with their orders, and a delicious aroma of spices and herbs relaxed the pair once more. Killian and Emma stared down at their plates in awe, before thanking the waiter.
"Wow." Emma grinned, taking her colourful dish of Chinese curry, noodles and fresh vegetables in with a lick of her lips. "Talk about worth the money."
Killian raised his glass once again. "To new and old families alike."
"And to possible future F.B.I families." Emma returned the gesture with a vibrant, unafraid laugh, and swept up in the moment, even threw a wink in his direction.
He chuckled. "Here here!"
"Cheers."
Attraction blossomed inside her, and Emma raised the cool glass to her flushed cheeks, aggressively ignoring the fluttering movement of eyelashes in the look she'd given Killian. She felt stripped and bare of her walls, and for once, it frightened her no longer. Understanding grew into attraction, which, with the addition of chemistry and attraction, slowly built into something more...
We're not going there yet.
Not that word.
Uh uh.
No.
Not yet.
"Ladies and gentlemen, if you and your partners would now like to move through into the ballroom. We will be starting dances in roughly five minutes time. Thank you for your cooperation."
After the head waiter's announcement, dining couples began to follow each other through the dining area and into the ballroom. It had previously been cut off and covered by a large, green curtain separating the two rooms.
Killian offered Emma his arm again, and she relaxed into the comfort of his hold as they followed the crowd across the floor.
Walking into the room was like entering a fantasy world where kings, queens, knights and kingdoms existed and dined and feasted with royalty.
A classic high-roof structure curved the room into a beautifully wide and welcoming polished floor for dancing. Around the floor, large, white cloth-covered tables were serving champagne and fresh fruit, adorned with the corresponding navy blue and pale gold colour scheme. Large, velvet curtains were half-drawn as half a dozen beaming chandeliers created large patterns along the floor, though Emma's awestruck gaze was quickly drawn to the two winding staircases at the far end. Classical paintings hung on either side of the walls, images of historical figures, picturesque landscapes and even post-modern, abstract art decorated the bare walls with life and colour.
A full band of violins, pianos and singers had gathered on the stage, preparing for their performances with anxious smiles and last-minute checks, and for the moment, Emma could not think of a single word to explain the beauty of the ballroom other than magical.
Killian watched her silent enthrallment with a secret amusement of his own.
"Are you beginning to feel like a princess yet, Swan?"
"Maybe."
She glanced back apprehensively, biting her lip in realising just how openly she'd been staring around the room.
An elder waiter with graying hair and a kind smile greeted them with a tray of drinks balanced in his hands. "Good evening, sir, ma'am, would you care for any champagne?"
Emma nodded. "Please."
After moving further into the room, Killian led Emma to a smaller space in a row of chairs and circular tables. They took seats quickly, watching as the room filled up with friendly conversations and the odd laugh or loud remark within groups. Emma glanced around at the bright lights, classical architecture and then, at the handsome man beside her.
"Jones?" She said quietly, swallowing quickly as Killian instantly turned towards her, pinning Emma down with that wonderfully intense look in his sharp eyes.
"Yes, love?"
"Are you quite certain we're not actually inside a story book right now?"
A tap of a microphone interrupted his reply. "Ladies, and gentlemen. I'd like to take this chance to officially welcome you to the dance this evening. As always, we will open the floor with a classical Viennese waltz. If you will, take your partners for a spin, and have a lovely evening, Enjoy."
Perfect timing.
"Seriously?"
Emma hid the urge to roll her eyes, assuming it was hardly an appropriate gesture in an expensive ballroom, wearing a gorgeous evening dress in a classy hotel.
"Apparently so." Killian chuckled. "Come on then, Swan." Before Emma had time to think, he quickly stood, straightened his suit in preparation, and offered her a hand with his usual flirtatious grin.
"Let's have a dance."
Hell.
"Oh, I...I don't dance. I can't." She stumbled out in a rush. "I mean, I can dance, but not like this. I haven't danced like this before." Gesturing around to the other dancers, who quite clearly were trained and prepared, Emma resisted ducking her head and blushing under the bright lights. "I think it'd be safer if I stay seated."
"Shame." Killian sighed but didn't withdraw his hand. In fact, if at all, he seemed even the more confident she'd accept.
He grinned at her lack of encouragement. "If only your partner knew how to dance..."
She shot him an incredulous look. "Hold on a sec. Killian...are you saying, that you know how to dance the Waltz?" As his smile widened in triumphant, Emma only stared in disbelief. "Properly, I mean?"
"I do indeed."
Realising after a few moments that she needed more than that, Killian sighed, still refusing to lower his hand and explained, "Back at home, my parents were on the local council, which involved all the charity events and so on."
His lips twitched in fond memory. "Liam and I squirmed through a large share of balls and evening dues. So yes," Killian looked back at her and raised an eyebrow, now beginning to tap his foot impatiently as she remained rooted to the seat. "I know how to dance a Waltz at having been forced into hellish dance lessons as a young lad. Trust me, you're in safe hands."
"But, I can't-"
Killian offered a sincere smile, reaching his hand out in one last attempt, the music swelling louder and louder in the background. "Emma, please dance with me."
Lips parting to speak, Emma hesitated for a moment, still uncertain about dancing in front of so many gatherers, but just at that second, an older woman with a cheeky smile, leant in from across the table and waggled an eyebrow at Emma. "If you don't, I will, my dear!"
Emma burst out laughing in delight as Killian gaped at the other woman in surprise. Urged on by a random stranger, she gathered her skirts in one hand and reached for a still frozen Killian's hand.
"In that case-"
As soon as her hand slipped into Killian's hold, Emma knew she'd made the right decision. She threw the elderly woman a bashful grin, who in return, waggled her eyebrows in a suggestive way that reminded her of Ruby, and turned back to sipping her champagne.
Emma nudged Killian gently in the ribs when he still didn't respond. "Star struck are we, Jones?"
His head snapped around, as though only now noticing that she'd stood to dance with him.
"Not at all."
Grinning like a madman, Killian cleared his throat and began to lead Emma onto the floor.
"This way, mi 'lady."
Half a minute later and Killian was laughing at Emma's useless attempts to remain upright in his arms. She grumbled and groaned at her lack of coordinate, cursing parents she'd never met for their ungraceful genes, and muttering something about Irish genes descending from dancing gods.
"Why the hell did I let you talk me into this?"
"Because you like me, Swan."
Emma continued staring down at her heeled shoes with venom.
"Not anymore." She growled.
"Well, then," Killian's reply was teasing as he carried on attempting to direct the clumsy blonde around the room, careful to avoid yet another collision with a younger couple a few feet away. "I shall have to do something about that."
"Uh huh, and pretty damn soon."
"Emma, love, you're making a grand mistake."
"Which is?"
There was a slight pause as the music slowed. Every couple seized dancing as the next track began to start up again, and Killian relaxed his hold around Emma's waist to draw her chin carefully into his hands. He paused, and then quietly said, ""Look at me."
She couldn't help but smirk and tease, "Why would I possibly do that?"
The alternative was melting into the heated look that Killian was currently sparking into her.
"You still don't trust me." Killian said. His voice was a little sad, and Emma felt crushed that her lack of faith was distressing the only person who in fact, made her believe.
Just then, the music echoed around the room again, another piano piece beginning to settle into a slow, still Waltz, rhythm. Couples began to weave and dip around the floor. Part of her wanted to surrender and sit back down again, but looking up into Killian's encouraging eyes, Emma felt compelled to take another second chance.
"This time, trust me." Killian spoke softly. He placed his hand back on her waist, fingertips brushing the inch of bare skin, leaving tingled marks that hitched Emma's breath in a tender way. "If it helps at all, think of dance as a life rehearsal."
Her hand found its rightful place on the slight dip in Killian's left forearm, and the firm muscle beneath his dress shirt sent even more sparks inside Emma's stomach. She swallowed away desire for nearly the fifth time that evening, focusing on his words instead.
"How's that?" She asked dryly.
"Don't mock it until you've heard it, love." Killian shook his head and laughed, slowly taking a few steps to test her out again. This time, gaze firmly rooted to his, Emma managed to round a corner without any mishaps.
"Anyway, dancing is, in a way, a rehearsal to the choices you make in life. The music you're dancing to, the style, tempo, crescendo."
Killian flashed a smile as he turned Emma out into a quick spin, careful to direct her under his arm before happily pulling her back into a close embrace. "Did you choose it? And if so, are you pleased with those choices, or do you want to switch to another song and dance?"
Leaning in, Killian's voice was low and alluring, his lips speaking directly and closely into Emma's ear. "You analyse the song, the mood, and who you've chosen to dance alongside." Tiny goose bumps formed over his next words, "Are you happy with your partner? Would you prefer to be alone?"
He exhaled and Emma shivered as his breath came out a soft whisper on the corners of her cheekbones. "Dancing can be fun, upbeat," His hand slowly moved across her back, fingers spreading out to mimic the next words. ", and also intimate and slow, but only with the right partner."
"How do you know?" She asked quietly, fully aware of their close embrace. The deliberate way that Killian's fingers were now brushing her back made it hard to focus. "Who the right partner is?"
His reply was instant and confident. "You know when everything coincides."
He spun her easily around again, this time pulling her backwards against his broad chest. Emma leant back against him as Killian spoke in a whisper low enough for her and her alone. "Heart, mind, soul. Listen to your gut, yes, but, Swan, you'd do wonders to listen to your heart every now and then."
They danced like that for a few more moments, with Emma keeping her grip on his forearm tight, and Killian hovering his lips over the bare skin of Emma's neck, exhaling, every now and then, cool breath against the heated skin. After a long pause, Killian finally spun her back into a usual ballroom hold, and Emma, unable to help it, cracked a smile.
"So, Literature major then, huh, Jones?"
"Also a minor in Irish cinema."
She laughed. "Knew it."
"What gave it away?"
"Somewhere amongst the extended metaphor of dancing."
Killian frowned, but his lips began to pull into a grin as he watched her laugh and smile in a playful mood. "So at the beginning?"
She nodded. "Exactly."
"Hm."
The music began to quieten, and as everyone began to slow into a standing, Killian spun her out one final time and lowered his head to murmur, as though worried he'd panic her, "Emma, I don't mean to frighten you, but...you're dancing, love."
She feigned a gasp. "Well, would you look at that? So I am. Seems all I needed was the right partner after all."
Her voice finished in a husky whisper all on its own. They shared another heated look, one that went beyond dancing, and beyond writing and phone calls and maybes and what next.
What next?
What next. What next...
It repeated in Emma's mind until Killian faded into a blur of distance.
She stiffened in his arms, almost by an instinct to pull away from intimacy, though when Killian quickly noticed and his proud smile dropped, Emma cursed herself for ruining the moment. It wasn't entirely Emma's fault. Blame the walls and the abandonment issues and everyone who'd ever played a hand in pushing aside dreams of happiness and family and friends and...love.
Suddenly aware of how much wine, and added champagne, she'd drunk that evening, Emma slowly pulled away from Killian's hold, unable to directly meet his gaze, knowing she'd find painfully raw disappointment or sadness in those honest, blue eyes.
"It's getting pretty late. I, uh...I reckon we should go."
"I'll walk you home."
Emma hesitated. On one hand, she wanted to spend as much time humanly possible, but the longer they spent, the harder a goodbye would sound. "Oh, Killian...you don't have to...really."
"I insist."
A small smile tugged at Emma's lips, and despite everything, the fear of losing someone she'd barely had the chance to develop feelings for and every other odd stacked against them, Emma looped an arm through Killian and they left, together.
"Do you fancy a nightcap?"
Hell, that sounded suggestive.
"I expect that wouldn't be the wisest of moves, Emma."
"Oh?"
Turning around outside her apartment door, she frowned.
Killian's curt decline had thrown her. Surely the alcohol was now burning a painfully hot trail down her body, but Emma was still confident she could handle a little more. Perhaps the flirtatious tone was down to the wine, but that didn't mean they couldn't enjoy themselves a little...
Emma blinked a few times, trying to clear the tiny dots forming around her eyes in a hazy blur.
"Will you miss me?" She blurted out.
Clutching the door behind her for support, her knuckles grazed a cool trail along the door knob. Emma met Killian's gaze with a challenge. If the wine coursing through her system was encouraging confidence, she was going to damn well use it.
"Of course I'll miss you." Killian cast his gaze away from her. After a long beat, he then growled in frustration. "Gods. Coming here was a mistake, Emma. A bloody huge mistake."
"What?"
She froze half swaying in the door; eyes widening as she stared at the growing, angry expression on Killian's face.
"I don't understand…"
"I've seen you in person, and now I have to leave."
Killian took a step forwards, closing the gap between them in a heartbeat. He spoke softly, but there was a pained anger that lilted his words. "Do you know how hard this is for me, Emma?" He murmured, fingers reaching up to brush her exposed neck. "To be this close to you, and...be gone the following morning. Hell."
He spoke in a broken whisper. "It's hell."
The alcohol burned alongside his anger, toying with Emma's heart and provoking what little resolve she had with an iron hot poker. "Please stop." She implored, finding it difficult in Ignoring the way Killian's soft hands had brushed closer along her neck.
She felt desperate now. "I can't...don't do this. Please."
Lust and an urgent craving to touch and connect and feel dripped from Killian's voice.
"Darling, I'm going to need a better excuse."
Emma grabbed Killian's hand, pressing it closer against her skin to sooth her anguished nerves.
"Whatever I mean to you is going to have to wait." She pleaded.
Noticing the look of surrender in his eyes, Emma shook her head, desperate for Killian to understand. "No. Please, don't for one minute think that I don't care about you, because damn it to hell, Killian, I am roughly five seconds away from moving to another country for you, but I'm not going to. I can't. I'm just not ready."
Emma stilled then, both of them ending up breathless and pressed closely against the door behind her. Ignoring just how close Killian's lips were to hers - so close that she could count the tiny freckles on his upper lip, and the deep red of his lips that seemed so inviting and-
She blinked once, clearing forming tears, and then forced herself to push Killian away, carefully flattening her palms against his chest.
"Sorry, it's getting late, and we've both been drinking and..."
Staring down at the carpeted landing, Emma dropped Killian's hand and watched it linger painfully in the air. "You...should go."
Stay.
"You're right. I should."
"Go." She insisted more firmly.
If Killian didn't leave now, then Emma had a strong feeling they'd both end up tangled in a more compromising position before either one had the chance to reconsider. And that couldn't happen. Not tonight, before he had to get on a plane and fly away elsewhere.
Against her protests, Killian stood his ground, his feet planted into the floor as though rooted by a magnetic pull sparking between them. Another pause, and trembling breathes filled the silence, before he took a step forwards. He, slowly this time, tilted Emma's chin up so that she was forced to meet Killian's burning gaze. "One more thing."
Don't say goodbye.
Please...don't. say goodbye.
Silently, Killian gazed down at her with a hooded look, his gaze threatening to swallow her whole in a deliciously wicked manner. His fingers anchored Emma to him. Their eyes now locked their in a heated battle for control, intimacy caved into an entirely new emotion. One filled with a rage and anger at the unfair situation of distance, but also complete with a passion and sense of new love that felt fond and youthful, blossoming and wanting to rediscover light and life.
"My flight goes at one o'clock, but I'll be at the airport from around twelve." Killian said quietly. "Come and find me then and say goodbye, then I'll know."
"Know what?"
Emma could barely hear her own whisper over the sound of a heartbeat leaping into her throat.
"That you're ready."
"Is that a challenge?"
Killian's lips twitched. "A dare."
"If you do, you'll be making me the happiest man on the planet, though if you chose to stay, I'll understand, and..." He spoke with such tenderness that his lips hovered over her own; so close that it was almost a ghost kiss. "It will not let me think any lower of you, Emma. I promise. It's your choice. It always will be, my love."
"And after that? Your tour, and the busy timetable, and..."
"You're worried about that?"
He looked surprised when she hid her own tearful look. "Oh, Emma. Trust me; I'd wait forever and a day if I had to."
"Cheesy idiot."
Killian's hand hovered above her upper lip, caressing it from top to bottom in a soft way that had Emma clutching the door for support.
He chuckled, his thumb still brushing over Emma's lip at an unbearably slow pace. "And you're adorably drunk."
"What a pair we make." She said quietly.
"Aye."
Pulling her trembling hand up before their eyes, Killian pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, as he had done outside the station that morning. It seemed so long ago and yet so recently. Time had extended and grown, allowing Emma and Killian their day together in a lengthy period.
"Have a good night, Swan."
Killian dropped her hand carefully, turning away with one final nod, and leaving Emma with not only a growing, gnawing feeling of uncertainty, but also with an overwhelming sense of surety over an emotion she'd failed to identity before that moment. In the moment Killian walked away, she knew it wasn't simply want she was craving.
Need.
She needed him.
And that terrified her beyond belief.
Emma placed all her weight against the apartment door and let out a shaky breath, the tension having finally snapped and dissolved into silence. Every inch of her body felt affected by Killian. Parts soared and danced, whereas others teased and giggled and begged for contact. It was a burning desire that wasn't showing signs of slowing down or fading away anytime soon.
She tilted her head against the door and squeezed her eyes closed, certain of one thing.
Tomorrow was going to be another adventure altogether.
Whoa. Long chapter alert.
Hope you all enjoyed this, it was clearly my favourite chapter to write, and of course…another cliff-hanger… ;)
P.S. I couldn't resist the Granny cameo.