A/N: Secret Santa present from Tumblr - some lines are taken from the show and are not the intellectual property of yours truly.
Emma Swan was jealous by nurture rather than nature, when you begin your life with next to nothing, you tend to be a bit possessive of what you do have. Especially when it comes to people.
It used to be considered cute, when Emma was younger and she'd finally accepted the fact that Ingrid wanted to keep her, that she wouldn't again be sent back to be alone (she'd always be an orphan, in her heart of hearts, but an orphan with a family is her dream come true). So when Ingrid's family moved over from Norway, she barely left them alone in the room with Ingrid for the first couple of months, irrationally fearful that they would somehow steal her away. Or that Ingrid would decide she'd rather have her nieces (Emma's adoptive cousins? She never figured out if that was a real thing) rather than Emma if she left her sights for too long (Ingrid was hers, Emma often thought to herself, her hot cocoa was always a little cold and she always wanted to go ice skating but she wanted Emma so she wasn't going down without a fight).
It was after another Harry Potter viewing that Ingrid sat Emma down, with a gentle (but cold) touch to her Emma and a soft 'oh duckling' to explain that while she loved her nieces and her sister, they could never replace Emma, and if she let them in, Emma might find that there were more people in the world who were willing to love her.
Learning from her experiences, she tries to control her jealously with Elsa. She's never had any friends before and so doesn't have much experience with friend-jealously (and that time where it was a bit more than friend jealousy) but she's forever grateful that Elsa is not as sociable or extroverted as her sister so Emma is hardly ever in the position where the feelings rise up. It's easier when her friendship circle grows, to have more people, Elsa is her best friend but she's often glad, sitting back with her drink, atmosphere warm and laughter echoing, that she decided to take her adoptive mother's advice.
Her jealously concerning Henry is irrational, uncontrollable and in Emma's mind, perfectly understandable. She is still mercilessly teased by her family by the fact that when Henry first pointed to the series and uttered 'Har-ry' as his first word, she hid them out of sight for three months. She shrugs it off and laughs, doing her best to bury her impulsive urges. She loves her family and they love her, she is finally in a place where she can accept that.
Then Killian Jones comes along and ruins it all.
She can blame their meeting on so many people, but Henry is the main perpetrator. His school is much fancier than Emma should be able to afford, but she works extra shifts and has Henry's scholarship ("this school has the best creative writing course, Mom, if I can get, can I go?") and sometimes accepts extra help from Ingrid ("I love my grandson, duckling, let me do this"). And with fancy schools, come fancy clubs.
Ruby was all for outdoor skills, Mulan for martial arts, Mary Margaret for archery, David for horse riding and Elsa for ice skating and with all the suggestions Henry was receiving, he decided to literally pull a club out of a hat.
Thus lead Henry to sailing and Emma to his instructor, one annoying, understanding and unfortunately, handsome, Killian Jones.
Her son came home each week, smelling of sea salt and full of exciting stories about his lessons. Conversations now had references to things Killian said or was said to have done. It was different and new but Emma was glad Henry had someone else in his life to look up to.
The sea breeze was chilly on the first day Emma had manages to pick up Henry after his lessons, Elsa, Anna or Ingrid had managed to grab him so far but Emma wanted some quality time with her son today, hence her rushing and ignoring the pain on the palm of her hand.
She scanned the boats - ships? - looking for her son and found a familiar mop of hair on one called 'The Jolly Roger'. Henry breaks out into a grin when he notices her and calls out, waving excitedly.
"Hey Mom," he says, smile still fixed on his face when she reaches him, "I was just helping Killian pack up."
"That's a good lad you've got there," an accented voice to her left says, "Would make an excellent crew member."
Emma isn't exactly fond of being a honey trap, but it works because she can keep her true emotions down for a short period and most of her marks are too busy looking anywhere but her eyes. Even still, it takes all of her experience not to ogle Killian Jones, especially with his tight jeans, stubble and blue Henley that makes his eyes pop. Going by the slight smirk on his features, her disguise isn't as good as she thought or Killian just makes more eye contact than she's used to.
"Killian Jones", he says, holding out his right hand, she notices his left one is in a leather glove but doesn't know enough about sailing to know if that has a purpose or if it's for another reason, "I've had the pleasure of being Henry's sailing instructor this semester."
"Emma Swan," she replies, instinct driving her to raise her own hand, forgetting her injury.
His smile fades when he notices her hand, "You're bleeding."
Henry is by her side in an instant, "Are you okay, Mom?"
She waves off their concern, retracting her hand, "It's fine, I just had a bit of a scuffle with a mark and I was late so I'll just bandage it when we get back to the Bug."
"Nonsense, we have supplies here," Killian turns to Henry, "Lad, would you mind going to grab our First Aid kit?"
Henry nods and walks off, leaving Killian to guide Emma to a seat.
"Gentleman sailor?" She asks with a raised brow.
Killian's smirk is back in full force, "You might bleed all over my ship. And I'm always a gentleman."
"Here we go, Killian," Henry says, returning without Emma noticing and she decides to fix her sights on the ocean rather than her son's knowing gaze.
A stinging sensation in her palm quickly draws her attention back, "Ow, what the hell is that?"
"Antiseptic," Killian replies, "Rum would have worked just as well but I'm trying to be child-friendly."
A small smile plays at her lips as Killian digs through the First Aid kit, pulling out a bandage before passing it back to Henry, "Would you be able to run that back for me, lad?"
Henry nods and takes off, at a much slower pace this time, Emma notes.
Killian's left hand brushes her as he prepares the bandage and he pulls it away as he notices her jump, surprised by the stiffness.
"I'm sorry-" they said at the same time, Emma cutting in first, gently, "I was just surprised, I don't have any issue."
"So how did you get this injury, if I may ask?" Killian asks as he wraps her hand, an obvious distraction but she allows it with a slight shrug.
"A bail jumper thought he could get away and did for a time, pushed me down onto some idiotic idea of a plant. I got him in the end though," she ends smugly, "And not gently."
"Tough lass," he says, admiration lacing his tone, not matching the playful look in his eye as he uses his mouth to pull the bandage tight. For a moment, Emma feels as though she cannot breath, locked in his gaze but he pulls away and she quickly stands, moving closer to the dock to be ready for Henry.
Her son seems disappointed to see the distance between the two of them and she resists the urge to roll her eyes at his meddling. He goes to thank Killian for his lesson with no prompting from her – Elsa and Ingrid were great helpers in helping him learn his manners – and Killian looks to her with a smile.
"It's been a pleasure, Swan, I hope your hand heals well."
She cradles it to her chest and remembers her own manners, "Thank you for the first aid, Jones," she says, not quite meeting his eyes, "And for taking such good care of Henry."
She manages not to turn back as she walks down the docks and slings her good arm around Henry's shoulders, "So, what do you feel like kid, pizza or burgers?"
"How is that even a question?" He scoffs, making Emma smile.
"Pizza it is, then."
Without any real decision on her part, Killian Jones becomes a part of a pattern. After every sailing lesson, she picks Henry up and they go for a walk along the docks, Emma hearing all about Henry's day over pizza – her relating her child friendly work stories – and ending with a video game session that usually ends in Emma losing.
Before they can get to the mother-son bonding, Henry usually has plans of his own.
"What do you think the lad's forgotten this time? His notebook? Pencil rolled under a chair?"
"A decent excuse," Emma mutters and Killian chuckles.
"Well, I can't say I mind all that much," Killian says joyfully, "I do like a woman in leather."
Emma smiles and shakes her head, weeks of banter still leaving her unprepared for how forward he can be while still not pushing.
"Will you be attending the school's Christmas party?" He asks suddenly, the tips of his ears suddenly red.
"Yeah," Emma says nonchalantly, staring across the ocean, "I'm one of Henry's class reps. I know some of the parents had issues with the fact Henry got in on a scholarship so I decided to make sure they didn't forget it."
"I'm sorry that's happening to you, Emma, and Henry," he says with a frown, unconsciously cradling his wooden hand.
A hot rage spills over Emma, "They don't give you shit over your hand, do they?"
His laugh is bitter, "Nothing I can't deal with, love," before she can respond he nods over her shoulder, "There's your boy at last, I imagine I will see you tomorrow night, Swan."
"That you will, Jones," she allows herself a small smile, "You won't be prepared for what's coming."
She hears his reply, a whisper as she leaves the ship, "I never am."
Emma is already regretting her heels. The pink dress seemed like a great idea a couple of hours ago, after one of the other class reps had sent her a reminder to do something that wasn't even supposed to be one of Emma's jobs and well, sometimes Emma wanted to rub it in their rich and obnoxious faces that one of the perks of getting pregnant at seventeen is that she still cuts a good figure.
And maybe she wants to see Killian's jaw drop.
But right now, Emma's feet hurt and Pam has just made eye contact and attached a fake smile to her face.
"Emma, how good to see you," she says brightly, weirdly bending to kiss Emma's cheeks, "I hope you got my email from before, being a class rep is so hard for those who lack experience."
Emma grits her teeth and smiles, "Not to worry, Pam, I think I'm gaining experience just fine."
"Well, yes, of course you are, dear," Pam continues patronisingly before lowering her voice, "But I just wanted to give you a warning."
"A warning?" Emma echoes sceptically, "About?"
"Killian Jones," Emma sucks in a breath and is ready to respond when Pam steamrolls her, "I've heard from the other parents that you've been staying later while picking dear Henry up and I wouldn't want anyone to think anything untoward was happening. Just think of your reputation! I know he already has one from another school, apparently got involved with another one of the mother's and now she's divorced."
Pam goes to take a breath and Emma cuts in quickly, "If you'll excuse me, I haven't greeted the Headmistress yet."
Emma leaves Pam tutting behind her and goes to greet Guinevere and her husband, some of her annoyance leaving her.
"Emma," Guinevere says happily, giving her a quick hug, "How are you? We haven't had a chance to catch up recently."
"I think we've both been swamped," Emma says with a smile and accepts a hug from Lancelot as well, "And is work keeping you busy, Lance?"
"Never ending," he says, dimples out in full force, "How are Mary Margaret and David? I haven't had time to see them since Leo was born."
"Wonderful," Emma sighs, fishing out her phone to show them pictures, "Henry loves playing with the baby, he's actually there tonight."
Guinevere and Lancelot make the appropriate cooing noises over the pictures and Emma is actually starting to enjoy the party. She makes idle plans to find Killian while talking with Henry's English teacher, Merlin – not that she's noticed his absence.
Of course, her mood sours and that terrible beast of jealously rears its ugly head after so many years of keeping in check when she hears Pam's laugh and she throws her hand on Killian's chest in an obvious gesture. Going by Killian's expression, he likes obvious.
Emma makes her excuses and steps outside, breathing in the crisp air. She wonders if she can leave without it seeming odd, she's done her schmoozing as class rep and met up with most of the people she cares about.
She's musing her options, rubbing the goosebumps on her arms when a jacket is suddenly draped over her shoulders.
"As much as I do like you in that dress, Swan, I don't think it will be as flattering when you're frozen solid."
Emma turns to face Killian and the twinkle in his eye dies. She's suddenly tired, tired of the way she reacts, tired of things not working out the way she wants, tired of hoping.
"What do you want, Jones?" She asks brusquely.
"Whatever you want to give," he says, all sincerity and suddenly she cannot handle it.
"Why don't you go give it to Pam then," she snaps, moving to walk away.
He reaches out to grab her arm, lightly so she could still pull away, always giving her the choice.
"I promise you, Emma, that if you stayed a moment longer, you would have seen me reject Pam's advances. Then I would have walked charmingly over to you, used some form of witticism on you, invited you to dance and then accidentally guided you to the mistletoe."
She can't help but smile at that, "You had it all planned out, huh?"
"Until you went and ruined it," he grumbles, smiling all the same and offers his arm, "Let's say I've walked charmingly over and used a witticism, would you like a dance?"
Emma pauses, "I was warned away from you, you know? Said I might gain a certain reputation, like the one you have."
Killian retracts his arm and scratches at his ear awkwardly, "You've heard that, have you? I did get involved with a married woman but that ended a very long time ago, she's happy now, got a good settlement from her husband once she exposed his wrongdoings, has full custody of her son, was travelling the world with him last time I heard."
Wonder of wonders, Emma feels no jealously at his tale and can only smile as she links her elbow with his.
"Good thing I've never cared about my reputation," she says lightly as they walk back inside, "How much longer until Henry can change his club? I think we should get dinner sometime."
"Not soon enough."
Henry grumbles as he looks over his club choices for the next semester, having already banned any adult from having an opinion.
"I liked sailing," he whines.
"I will take you sailing whenever you want, lad, but it's a bit of a conflict of interest having you in my class now," Killian says soothingly, "Now, if you want an interesting class-"
"No, that's a suggestion," Henry says quickly from his place on the floor.
Killian settles back on the sofa with a huff, Emma tucked into his side, "Teenagers," he mutters.
Emma snorts into her book and relaxes as he kisses the top of her head.
"I suppose we do owe the lad some thanks for picking it in the first place."
"It's definitely all Henry's fault," Emma agrees, "But you'll never catch me saying that again."
A/N: I apologise for my extended absence from writing, it's probably 90% my own laziness and 10% due to work and then moving home. I have a lot of half finished stories I hope to upload soon so thank you for bearing with me.
Be well,
Adrina Stark.