Head's up there's a mention of a character death in this chapter. Nothing too bad but just thought I'd put out a warning.
These characters still belong to Kitsis and Horowitz. Let's play anyway.
Killian was singing quietly to himself along with the music coming from the radio on his work table. Which wasn't that odd except for the fact that he hadn't done it in longer than he could remember. When he first noticed that he was doing it he had sat back for almost five minutes staring blankly at the empty clay pot in front of him. It was only when Anton stuck his head out from the back room asking if he was okay that he shrugged in acceptance and got back to work.
It had been three days since the Fourth of July party at Robin's. He felt as though he had thrown off some sort of shutters that had thrown shadows on his outlook on life the minute he had sat in front of Emma and challenged her to do her worst. Even the surprise question from her son hadn't brought on the low grade panic he felt whenever someone suggested he start dating again.
After Emma had ushered Henry into the house he'd had to endure the teasing of the Merry Men along with Robin and Will. Someone had produced a black handkerchief and Ruby sacrificed one of her earrings to complete his pirate look. Wearing the disguise was freeing, much like when he had been galavanting as Friar Tuck earlier in the day. He felt lighter, more open, and judging by the impressed look on Will's face it didn't go unnoticed.
Killian barely acknowledged Anton's farewell as he continued to reminisce about the party. How he had wanted to approach Emma and dispel any awkwardness from her son's blunt but astute question. Henry had emerged from the house with a smile on his face as he apologized again, so Killian knew that she was more embarrassed than upset. Emma and a petite, dark haired woman he vaguely recognized had stepped out on the porch shortly thereafter but Killian had refrained from immediately forcing his company upon her.
The rest of the day and into the night had been spent oscillating between conversing with the adults and being dragged into games with the children. Henry and Roland were the first to approach him, the latter obviously enraptured by the older boy. After a few games of 'pirate tag' as Henry called it the other kids warmed up to him considerably. It wasn't long before cries of 'argh' and 'aye, matey' filled the yard.
Through all of it Emma floated across his periphery. She hadn't been actively avoiding him, at least as far as he could tell. They had even been in the same circle of people for a while discussing baseball, a topic even a recent transplant like Killian had been able to follow. He was able to hold his own in the conversation, mainly making tongue in cheek references to cricket, until Jefferson's daughter Grace appeared at his side and began tugging him back into the fray. Even though he was loath to leave a chance to try and talk to Emma he couldn't say no to the bright brown eyes imploring him to join her.
He didn't catch another glimpse of her until the party gathered in front of the house as dusk was gathering. While they collectively waited for the grand show put on at the harbor to start they entertained themselves with sparklers and smaller fireworks, courtesy of the stands that had dotted the roadsides. The air had been filled with smoke that smelled of spent black powder and rotten eggs but the noxious cloud did little to dissuade the growing excitement as the time for the show grew closer.
Emma had been standing with Ruby and Graham, still in his uniform, August, and the woman from earlier. They'd been watching the kids running around with sparklers, with her boy Henry continually handing off sparklers to each of them in turn. He'd had a feeling that Emma was close with only a few people, a select group that she had deemed fit for being allowed in her life. It was easy to see when he, himself, had done exactly the same thing.
The big surprise of the night came when Henry ran up to where he was standing talking to Will and Robin with Regina off to one side, an exhausted Roland in her arms watching the festivities with tired eyes. Henry was holding a freshly lit sparkler in his hand, a happy grin on his face. When Robin explained that Roland was too young and too tired to hold it Henry had laughed and told them it was for Killian as he carefully handed it off.
Killian had been shocked, mumbling his thanks as he carefully gripped the sputtering firework. Henry shrugged and pointed over his shoulder at his mom, telling them that she sent him over to tell Killian that he was free to wash off the face paint. It had slipped his mind that he was still outfitted as a pirate. He gave Henry a serious look and told him that the deal was for keeping the paint on until all the fireworks were over. With a wink he had sent Henry back to tell Emma that it was bad form to renege on a deal.
Watching Henry skip across the yard he had quickly schooled his face into a look of mock disappointment. When Emma looked over at him, along with the group she was standing with, he raised his eyebrow, slowly shook his head, and smirked. Exercising a great amount of willpower he had turned his back to her and struck up a nonsense conversation with Robin. He'd spent the rest of the night grinning like an idiot to himself at the calculating look she had given him before he had turned away.
He started smiling again as he remembered Ruby loudly calling out to him as she and Graham left at the end of the night. Emma and Henry were walking ahead of her and they had both turned at Ruby's outburst, Emma's gaze immediately settling on him as he gave a hearty wave goodbye. She had rolled her eyes but Henry had waved back enthusiastically, calling out a final 'arg, matey' as Emma turned him back around.
The good mood that had started on the morning of the Fourth had persisted the entire weekend. He hadn't even been put off by Anton's request that he come in on his day off to help in the shop after the holiday. Anton had needed Killian to run the shop while he prepared for a wedding he had booked. Killian figured it wouldn't hurt to make up some of the hours he had lost the previous week.
It had been a quiet Monday afternoon, most of the bouquets the shop created were delivered in the morning to start off the week right. Anton had been fine with Killian working later in the afternoon, since they would both be working after they closed for the night. While Anton worked on the wedding order Killian was tasked with working with the orchids; repotting and adding supports to the ones that were no longer able to stand up under the weight of their blooms. They had worked amiably around each other with the radio quietly playing in the background.
Looking around the shop he was startled to realize that the streetlights were flickering on outside the shop. The sky wasn't fully dark but looking at the clock Killian saw that it was already past eight and he was well within his right to go home. Glancing at the few unfinished orchids left on his work table he decided to finish the job before calling it a night.
Falling back into a steady rhythm he worked contentedly, singing along with the radio and letting his mind wander. A sudden flicker of movement caught his eye and when he looked up to investigate he found himself staring up into the face of an irritated Emma Swan.
"I don't know what I did to piss you off, Jones, but I don't think it's funny," she fumed, staring daggers at him.
Killian was at a loss at how to answer her. Not only because he had no idea what she was talking about but because she had caught him unaware and unguarded. Since he was working with the orchids he had removed his glove and was down to his white undershirt to ensure he didn't snag the delicate flowers. He was in the middle of tying one of the orchids to a support stick and both his scarred hand and tattoo were out for her scrutiny. Any overt move he made to hide either would automatically grab her attention and he was loathe to act as though he didn't care what she thought. He wasn't sure he'd ever be that comfortable with anyone.
The accident had been horrible. He had seen photos of the scene afterwards, during the trial. His car had been almost unrecognizable, the small silver sedan crumpled around the front bumper of the lorry that had run a red light and hit them on the passenger side doing 65 kilometers per hour. Milah hadn't stood a chance, the doctors and medical examiner had assured him time and again that her death had been quick, perhaps even painless. Killian couldn't remember the accident himself, he had woken up in the hospital two days later as a widower with two fingers missing from his left hand.
Masking his turbulent emotions as best he could Killian finished the knot he was tying as he addressed Emma.
"I'm not entirely sure to what you're referring, Swan, but it might have escaped your notice that we're closed," he said in a dry voice.
Emma huffed out a breath as she rolled her eyes. Killian watched as her gaze flickered to the space behind him, then to the radio playing a Whitesnake song, and then over the orchids lining his work table. She didn't even seem to notice his hand, but he couldn't be sure if it was indifference or a conscious effort to not make a big deal about it. He didn't know how long she had been watching him before he noticed her.
"I know, I saw Anton leaving earlier," she dismissed his statement with a wave of her hand. "He told me that you're the one to complain to about what was delivered this morning. I don't know why, though, he's the owner."
"Anton's not really one for confrontation, even with someone as lovely as yourself," he gestured at her with his right hand before sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest, effectively hiding his left. "So, what is it about your order that has you in such an uproar on this lovely Monday evening?"
"You sent me a bunch of green buds!" Emma said incredulous. "I mean, those other flowers, the deep purple ones and pink ones are really pretty but why the hell would you send over a bunch of closed buds? You know I actually pay for nice bouquets to be delivered, right?"
Killian laughed in spite of himself. While he hadn't been working for the nursery for long he had the tendency to forget that others didn't have even his limited knowledge of flora. When he had been preparing Emma's order the day before he hadn't thought much about their current appearance. Not when he knew how breathtaking their transformation would be.
"I take it you're very much into instant gratification. Am I right, love?" He grinned as a light blush stole across her cheeks. "Thought as much."
"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response. What did I do to deserve a vase full of little green buds, except for the ones that have what looks like bruises on them. Your time as a pirate couldn't have been that bad," she said, crossing her arms and looked down at him in open curiosity.
"And here I was thinking you had been avoiding me at the party. Especially when you sent your boy to reprieve me of my obligations."
He gazed at her with an uplifted eyebrow. Emma shifted on her feet, her only sign of discomfiture, as she looked back at him impassively. Finally she sighed, breaking eye contact to pull a spare stool up to his work table to sit opposite him.
"I wasn't really trying to avoid you," she confessed. "I just wasn't seeking you out either."
Killian's stomach did a slow turn at her words. He knew there was an attraction between them, he had felt it as soon as he met her. The fact that she made him feel more like himself than he had in months was telling enough. Just the thought of some future possibility made him anxious and balk at idea, but he couldn't let it go, not when she appeared to feel the same pull as he did. To cover his broiling emotions he pulled an orchid toward him and resumed his work.
"Those 'little green buds' are called Lisianthus or Texas Bluebells. They're quite tricky to grow outside of the Southwest but Anton was convinced he could do it," Killian spoke quietly as he worked, keeping his eyes on the orchid he was repotting in front of him. "The ones I had sent over were the first batch to be cultivated from the greenhouses. Anton's aptitude for greenery has proven itself once again.
"Those indigo and pink blooms are part of the same plant, I assure you. Over time the buds will open and slowly change in color to match," Killian glanced up and saw she was watching him work in fascination. "If, however, you are truly dissatisfied with them I'll prepare you another bouquet. Free of charge."
Her green eyes darted to his. A flicker of unease and guilt passed through them before she looked away. He grabbed a support and began tying the stem of the orchid to it, hands moving in sure and practiced movements. The routine of it almost made him forget that his scarred and ruined hand was on display. Almost.
"You don't need to do that. I guess I can wait a few more days to see if they live up to the hype," Emma said with a soft smile. "Besides I don't want to hurt Anton's feelings. Especially if he's put in extra effort for the Texas…"
"Bluebells," Killian supplied. "Good, he's dedicated a whole bloody greenhouse to them. Spread the word, tell your friends, and hopefully his endeavor will be worth it."
Emma laughed and his stomach did another slow roll. It was a surprised laugh, short and loud. The sound of it brought a grin to his face as he finished tying off the orchid and grabbed another one.
"Would you like some help?"
He looked up at her curiously, "I don't want to keep you from anything. Surely your son is waiting for you."
"Nah, Henry's with August having a guy's night," she said fondly. "If anything he'll completely 'forget' he promised to call me to pick him up and he'll convince me that it's better for him to stay the night. He never seems to notice that I hand off an overnight bag to August when he picks him up."
"Does he stay with his father often?" Killian was blatantly digging for information but couldn't help himself. He was still unsure of her relationship with the Quill's piercer and figured it would be best to find out from her, instead of second hand from the gossip at Granny's Diner.
"His father?" she asked, puzzled. "August?! No, August isn't his father. I mean he's Henry's godfather but not his father, father. Henry's dad isn't around, never has been."
Killian was almost too caught up in what felt like relief to hear the distress in her voice on the last statement. It spoke of abandonment and disappointment, the kind that had long been a part of her life even before Henry's father had come along. He recognized it because the vestiges of his own abandonment sat heavy on his heart. Not even Milah, with her love and sense of adventure, had been able to remove that shadow.
"So, what's the story?" Her voice had returned to a calm demeanor but Killian knew it was just a mask.
"Which story? I have many."
His gut was churning. Emma's question gave no indication to where she was steering the conversation. He waited with bated breath as she rolled her eyes again and opened her mouth to speak.
"What brought you to Storybrooke? It's not like you looked at a map and decided a small seaside town in Maine was the perfect place to drop anchor. I didn't even know it existed until a flat tire kept us here for a few days," she said with a sense of wonderment. As though the flat tire was a blessing instead of a stroke of bad luck.
Killian's thoughts scattered as he tried to come up with a suitable answer to her question. One that would satisfy her curiosity, yet stay away from the painful truth.
"Will, my cousin, moved here when Robin did. Robin's store had been a success in England but he felt it was time to move on and a few of his loyal workers made the leap across the pond with him."
Killian paused when he saw understanding flair in her eyes. Robin had fled England much the way he had, to escape the memories and heartbreak of losing a wife. It was why Robin had been so forgiving about Killian's behavior and why Killian felt a kinship with the man that went beyond being English transplants. Regina must have shared part of the story with Emma, for her not to question him further.
"I was having a rough go of it back in England when Will suggested I move here. Apparently Storybrooke is the ideal place to move on from the past, for more people than just myself it seems."
"I wanted Henry to have a better childhood than I did. We found Storybrooke on accident but sometimes I wonder if it was fate. I've found more of a family in this town than any of the places I was tossed around to in Boston," Emma's voice was quiet and reverent.
"I know how you feel, love."
He was surprised at the sudden realization of that fact. Despite missing Milah so much some days that it hurt to breath and the light shame he felt at having seemingly abandoned the memory of his brother and what he had stood for he had found a home in Storybrooke. The small group of people in the town he had grown to depend upon had brought him back to life in many ways. Even the woman sitting across from him, whom he had only spoken to three times, had unearthed a piece of himself he thought he had lost.
"If you'd really like to help then your assistance will be much appreciated," he said jovially to dispel the tension.
"I offered didn't I?" Emma quipped as she looked over his work table. "But this might be a good time to tell you that I have more of a black thumb than a green one."
"Don't worry, love, you won't be required to prove your botanical prowess," Killian laughed as he pulled a new orchid in front of him. "I'll do the actual plant handling, if you'll be so kind as to tie on the supports when I've finished."
"Sounds easy enough."
Once Killian corrected how tightly she was tying her knots they worked in companionable silence. It wasn't long before he was on the last orchid and ready to call it a night. The problem was he wasn't sure he wanted his night with Emma to end.
"What was so important about these plants that you had to stay after hours?" Emma's voice broke through his thoughts.
"The orchids," he said pointedly, "aren't very important. Anton is doing the floral arrangements for a wedding this weekend and I graciously volunteered my time to help in the shop. Despite having to come in on what would be my day off."
"Hmmm," she hummed, idly fiddling with a loose piece of string. "Were you guys closed on the Fourth, too?"
"In the weird tradition of this town, yes, we were closed," Killian winked at her when she looked up at him. "My being here may also be a way to recoup the pay I lost due to your absurd holiday."
"Absurd?" she scoffed, indignant. "I'm sorry we Americans like to celebrate the fact that we managed to escape from being under the thumb of tyranny. To rejoice that our forefathers had the insight to free our great nation."
"Who sounds like they've popped out of a period piece now, Swan?"
Emma blushed brightly as she huffed out a laugh. "Touche. I didn't think you usually worked Mondays, I've never seen your truck around."
Killian felt his eyebrows raise and barely kept his jaw from unhinging in surprise. Emma's blush deepened as the realization of what she said hit her.
"Keeping tabs on my work habits are you? Pity it took a lackluster bouquet to get you in here to admit it," he joked. "Although, perhaps I should be alerting the authorities that I have a stalker."
"In your dreams," she said, rolling her eyes, blush receding. "I had to drive behind that truck for the entire trip back from Portland, it's permanently etched in my brain now."
"And what vessel do you captain, Swan? A Honda Civic? Or perhaps a mini-van to transport young Henry and his cohorts around town?" He tried to imagine her behind the wheel of either his suggestions and failed.
"Oh, er, a Beetle. Probably not the safest car for a mom but it was the first thing I've ever owned outright," her eyes darkened slightly but a smile remained on her lips. "Henry loves it so I doubt I'll ever trade it in."
"Wise decision. They don't quite make them the way they used to."
Silence settled over them again, the sound of the radio the only thing keeping it from dissolving into something uneasy. He pushed the last orchid toward her and watched as she tied the support to it with sure hands.
"After the expo I did wonder why I'd never seen you in town before," Killian supplied. "I guess even a small town like this can still hold some surprises."
"I usually work weekdays, while Henry's at school," she said smiling, with a quick glance up at him. "It's not the busiest times at the shop but I'm able to be there for after school things and to make sure Henry does his homework, to make him dinner and tuck him in at night. It's the closest I'll get to having a normal work schedule without having a normal job."
"You're talking to someone who works at a nursery most days of the week and creates floral arrangements for various townsfolk. Who's to say what 'normal' really means."
Emma looked up at him in wonderment. He fought the urge to look away but couldn't help the hand that lifted to scratch the back of his neck. A sudden buzzing broke their gaze as Emma jumped and reached into her pocket.
"Just like I said, Henry's asking to sleep at August's," Emma said as explanation. She frowned at her screen and looked back up at Killian "It's late, I should probably go."
"Right," Killian tried to bury the flash of disappointment he felt. "Don't feel the need to stay any longer, Swan. I'm pretty much done here and you've already given enough of your time as it is."
Thanking him she stood up from her stool. Killian resisted the urge to reach out and keep her from leaving. She gave him a small wave and started walking towards the door. His head started swimming in trying to sort through his feelings and what they could mean when she turned back to look at him.
"Henry's birthday is next week and we're having a party at David and Mary Margaret's house. They put in a pool back in May and Henry's invited all his friends but there'll be adults there too. I mean, if you're not busy or whatever. I know Henry would be thrilled to see you, he hasn't stopped talking like a pirate since the Fourth and he dragged me to the library for books about them…"
"Swan," Killian grinned, interrupting her.
"Yeah?" She asked nervously, shifting from foot to foot.
"I would be honored to attend your son's birthday party."
She smiled brightly at him.
"Good. I'll, uh, see you then. Oh, it's next Thursday at one," she strode back to his work table and pulled a random piece of paper and pen towards her and scribbled out an address on it. "This is where the party's at. You can't miss it, the Nolan's house has that whole white picket fence, Better Homes and Gardens feel about it."
"Should I bring a treat for their golden retriever as well?" Killian asked, partly serious.
"No," she laughed. "Just something for a boy turning twelve. I mean, if you want to, there's no obligation."
"Obligation or not, I don't want to be the one to show up empty handed. I'll be there with gift in hand."
With one last smile directed at him Emma walked out of the shop. Killian sat back and tried to make sense of the turn his night had taken. As he cleaned up his work table and turned off the radio he wondered what a twelve year old boy would enjoy for a birthday present. When he caught sight of his damaged and scarred left hand he also wondered, if perhaps, it was too late to catch himself from falling for the woman who could make him feel like a whole man again, if only for the brief moments they had spent together.
A.N.: I was going to mention this milestone in the next chapter but then I realized that by word count alone this is the longest thing I've ever written and that it actually reached that point in the last chapter. The funny thing is I've mostly plotted out the whole thing and we're still a few chapters away from even the halfway point of the story. I want to thank everyone that's followed/favorited/reviewed but a special shoutout to LexieMcSteamy, lupis93, and blueMnM415 who have been extra encouraging as this story moves along.
You can also find some photos of Lisianthus on the Stains of Ink page of my Tumblr, along with some gifs of Colin working with Orchids from Christina Perry's The Words video. ;)
