Author's Note: Thanks for all of the reviews on this story. I do read all of them, and I hate the way that makes you respond, so this is my general statement of you guys are amazing and I love you forever.
10.
Regina stares at her phone, thumb hovering over the 'send' button. The message is nothing complicated – just letting her dad know that she's going to be abroad for fall break, that she loves him, that she'll bring him back something European – but she doesn't know if she should send it.
For starters, she doesn't need Cora to start coming up with scenarios in her head about why her daughter is in Europe. She also doesn't know if she should tell anyone – she's had a crash-course in international politics in the last few days, and things are a lot more tense than she ever knew. And now she's flying – willingly – into the maelstrom.
Regina has a history of sudden and rash decisions, but this is the one that seems the most rash (the part of her that is Cora's daughter knows that she can't just turn down a princess, but the part of her that values self-preservation above all else wonders what she might be getting herself into).
She stares at the screen longer, and suddenly there is a tap on her window – Graham. Regina lowers it with a frown.
"What's up?" she asks. She had dropped Emma and her crew off at Emma's dorm and was just waiting for them to finish packing before taking them to the airport (her own bag is still packed and ready in the trunk).
"Would you mind coming upstairs for a moment?" Graham shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants, and Regina notices that tension that's been in his jaw since they got back to town is still there.
Regina nods, raises the window and shuts off her car. She follows him into the building, the loud honk of her horn as she locks her car echoing in the silent block of residence halls. It is Sunday afternoon, not even three, and most students are probably scattered around campus or in their rooms, studying (or not - she remembers her own freshman year all too well).
"Emma taking her sweet time?" she asks, more to make conversation than anything else. She shoves her hands into the pockets of her coat as Graham leads her into the building. He sighs as he opens the door to the stairs.
"I assume so," he tells her, indicating that she should go first. Regina wraps her coat around her and shifts her bag on her shoulder. "Second floor."
Graham's room is small and neat and antiseptic – there is nothing about the room that would indicate that someone lives here. This isn't surprising to Regina; after spending several days with him, she knows that his job is his life, that he cares very deeply about what he is doing and who is protecting. It makes her feel marginally better, to know that Graham cares so much, but she doesn't think that just caring is enough anymore.
The tension in his shoulders is still there when he closes the door behind them, making Regina nervous. "Finally taking advantage of being alone, Eye Candy?" she asks, trying to break that tension, and Graham barks out a laugh.
"You discovered my plan," he tells her, and she notices that some of the stress seems to have gone out of his face. He locks the door behind them and then turns to the safe in the corner of the room. He drops into a crouch, enters the combination, and opens it.
When he pulls out a gun, Regina's eyebrows jump to her hairline. It's when Graham turns to her and asks, "Can you shoot?" that she's truly shocked.
Regina nods. Her father likes to duck hunt every year (they go every Thanksgiving just the two of them - Cora hates it and Regina loves it and it's as good a way to network as golf, he swears) and so both his daughters had licenses from a young age. Zelena always enjoyed it more than Regina ever did, but Robin also likes to hunt, and one of their first official dates was to a shooting range (she still remembers the thrill of having his hands on her hips, the suggestive way that he positioned her to line up with the target).
"I'm not very good," she admits, "but I've got a license."
Graham holds it out to her and takes it. "Sig Sauer, 9mm, military issue," he tells her. "I want you to take it with you to Eira."
Regina feels the weight of it (it's lighter than she would have expected, but she's mostly handled hunting rifles and Robin's Berretta at the range that one time). "Can I bring this with me to a foreign country?"
"It's not yours," Graham reminds her, and Regina rolls her eyes as she checks the safety because that's obvious.
"Like that makes it any better," she points out. "Any drugs you need me to smuggle too?"
Graham rolls his eyes, and Regina stares at the gun in her hands, the cold metal glowing strangely in the incandescent overhead light.
"I need to ask something of you," Graham starts. "I know it's a lot to ask –"
"You want me to use this if someone threatens the princess," Regina says immediately. She knew the minute he opened the gun safe what was going to happen, but saying it out loud makes it real. The gun feels so very cold in her hands, and there's ice running through her veins. "I thought being friends with royalty meant invites to galas and outrunning paparazzi. I didn't expect it to be like this."
"It shouldn't be 'like this'," Graham tells her. "I shouldn't have to worry that the princess is walking into a trap, or that her mother will be deposed. I should worry about stalkers and drunk frat boys, not this." Graham shakes his head. "But life isn't fair, not for the princess or not for us."
"Agreed," Regina tells him, slipping the gun into her purse. "What about Killian and Robin?"
"I've already texted Killian," Graham says, reaching back into the safe. He pulls out some magazines, hands them to Regina before reaching back in and grabbing another gun and a holster. "I need you to take this to him - I don't want to give it to him on the plane."
"What if the plane doesn't wait for us?" Regina asks, and Graham cracks as the first smile she's seen in some time.
"Emma's not going to leave without Killian," he points out, which is true. Those two have been joined at the groin for the past day and while Regina has to admit it's rather cute (she's glad the princess listened to her, even if it took a couple days for the advice to permeate her thick skull), she also knows that Emma won't go anywhere without him, which is probably good, considering he's ex- military and the second-best protection she'll have if shit hits the fan (Regina knows she sure as hell isn't).
"I wish I had a better feeling about this, but I don't," Graham says, and Regina adjusts her purse straps. The guns in her bag feel like they weigh a thousand pounds.
"I can't blame you," Regina tells him. She shifts, glances at the door. "I'll see you at the airport."
The walk out of the dorm is the longest walk of Regina's life. She is certain that every single person whose path is crosses on the way to her car – there are six, total – have to know about the guns in her purse, the cloud of doom hovering over her head as her heels click across the pavement. The sun is so bright that she puts her shades on as she slides into her car, resting her bag on the passenger seat delicately, like she is afraid a bunch of unloaded guns will go off.
Her hands are shaking as she puts her keys into the ignition, and it occurs to Regina that she has never been more frightened in her life.
There is a moment, before she pulls out of the parking lot, where she thinks about storming back up to Graham's room and telling him to fuck off, and then dropping some truth bombs on her royal highness. She doesn't owe any of them shit - this is not her war.
But there is a part of her that believes in giving things the benefit of the doubt (that part is all her father, not her mother; Cora's voice in her says that there is an obvious benefit to having a princess in her debt). This might just be an overreaction after all, and she can give the gun back to Graham once they land.
She's not sure which voice is louder as she pulls up to the stop sign and turns left out of the parking lot.
The drive to Robin and Killian's apartment is even longer, and she walks right in without knocking, carefully places the purse on the countertop, and finds the vodka that Robin keeps under the sink. She drinks straight from the bottle, and when she swallows and returns the bottle to the counter, she's not surprised to find both Killian and Robin watching her.
"There are two guns in my purse," Regina tells them. "Which of you is bringing his own?"
Robin raises his hand meekly, and it almost makes her feel better knowing that Robin will have his own gun.
She looks at Killian. "That friend of yours is a trip."
Killian does not look happy. If anything, he looks worse than Graham, probably nervous and sick to his stomach, and Regina wonders how he will survive the flight. She's already looked it up and it'll take them about nine hours (if they leave here at 4, they won't get there until after midnight their time, which is something like 7am in Eira and that's not counting stops or refueling).
"Look," Regina says, hands curling around the bottle's neck, "I don't walk into situations without a plan - or at least an exit strategy." She takes another swig. "Princess Barbie is taking her sweet time packing so I suggest the three of us come up with something before we get into a small metal canister with a bunch of weapons and a member of a royal family that may lose her throne."
Robin is opening her purse, taking out the guns and studying them. He whistles low as he examines the Sig Sauer, glancing over at Killian whose face grows pale. Killian places his hands on the countertop, eyeing the vodka. When Regina holds it out to him, he shakes his head.
"I need to be alert," he tells her, and so she shrugs and takes another swig. He glances at her before pushing off the counter, turning and heading towards his bedroom.
Robin rounds the counter, resting his hand against Regina's back. Just the touch of him makes the stress in her body drop tremendously, and she leans against him, focusing on the way that his fingers run up and down her spine as she turns her head into his neck, inhaling sharply (he smells like pine and Gain laundry detergent and she loves that about him, has always been comforted by the smell of him long before they were anything other than friends).
"What have we gotten ourselves into?" she asks, and she feels him shrug against her.
"Fuck if I know," he admits. "Fighting against tyranny?"
Regina laughs. "We're going to get ourselves killed, aren't we?" The thought is heavy in her heart, because they could be killed – a stray bullet, standing in the way of this asshat that's taking over Emma's country – or arrested for bring guns in, or for entering with a known felon (is Killian a known felon?).
"Ever the pessimist," Robin tells her, brushing a kiss against her head. There is movement in the hallway – Killian returning with a black duffle bag. He puts it on the counter, riffling through it before he finds a small black notebook and a phone.
"Burner?" Robin asks, and Killian nods.
"Should work internationally – I keep everything together in case Gold finds me and I need to run," Killian says, and Regina wonders how long he's been living in fear of something like this. He opens the notebook and flicks through it until he finds a page. He rips out the page and slips it into the pocket of his jeans. He slips the phone into the pocket as well.
"You're absolutely right, Regina," he says, looking up at her with earnestness in his eyes. "We can't trust anyone in Eira, not until we get to the palace and maybe not then either. I have some contacts, but if something happens and we're ambushed, we need to be prepared." He swallows. "We need to get Emma to safety."
"I don't want to be Captain Obvious here but what if this is no big deal?" Robin asks. "What if we're overreacting?"
Killian's shoulders deflate slightly as he seems to consider this, but he shakes his head. "That would be a pleasant surprise," he tells his roommate.
"Should we tell Emma?" Robin presses, and Killian shakes his head.
"I don't think she'd believe us anyway," Regina points out. "Graham said she was pretty excited."
"Her mother constantly makes these statements about hope," Killian shares with them. "I bet that stuck with Emma."
He opens up the notebook, then starts looking around on the counter for a pen (Robin runs to get one from his bedroom, and he hands it to Killian, who starts drawing). He sketches out something which Regina doesn't recognize right away, talking as he goes.
"The royal family's private jet always lands on the northern strip of the airport – far enough from the terminal, close to the hangar."
"And you know this because?" Regina asks.
"Because military escorts were rotated out, which means I had a rotation at the airport when I was in the Army," Killian says. "There is a fence on the far side of this hangar," he draws an X near the hangar in question, which doesn't look that far from where the plane will land. "If we run, we run here. Remember this – break left, and go."
"And if they chase us? Where do we hide a princess in a city that knows her face?" Robin asks. Killian sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose.
"I have a contact - someone that I can trust who will keep us safe and who should still be in the city. He will know of some places where we can hide – including here." He puts an X over a spot on the map. "It'll look like nothing on the outside, but we'll be okay."
"No offense, but you haven't been home in how long? What if these places aren't there anymore?" Regina asks. Killian exhales harshly as he rubs his brow his hand.
"I don't know, Regina. All I know how to do is to get her into the city if I need to. For all I know we're blowing this out of proportion and we'll be received into the palace with open arms."
"It's good to have a back-up plan regardless," Robin says. He places a hand on Regina's hip and pulls her close to him, and once again his touch eases all the tension out of her. She purses her lips and nods.
Killian continues to sketch out landmarks of Sagobok. He adds the river (the Afal), that cuts the town in two. He keeps drawing, explaining where the police stations are and where the military base is, and where to avoid if something happens.
"I will text my contact before we board and ask him to be ready in case we need him," Killian says. He places both hands on the countertop and sighs.
"Take a picture, memorize the details, delete it," he tells them. "Break your phone before they can get it and make Emma break hers first because they're probably tracking her with the phone's GPS anyway. Gold won't hurt you because you're Americans, not citizens of Eira, but I'm a dead man the minute the plane lands. Whatever you do, please - Emma has to come first. Don't worry about me. Protect her, and protect yourselves, at all costs."
There is a wildness to his eyes when he tells them this that makes Robin reach for the vodka and take a drink before pulling out his phone and snapping a picture. "We'll keep her safe," he promises Killian.
She knows that Robin will do anything Killian asked of him, so his consent doesn't surprise her, her noble hero of a boyfriend. But Regina doesn't know how she feels about Emma, and this situation is too big for her to comprehend – she was not made for political conspiracies, petty social backstabbing is more her speed. But, for what it's worth, the little princess is growing on her, and even though the voices of her parents wage battle in her head, and – and even though she owes Emma nothing, she pulls out her phone and takes a picture of the map.
…
Emma boards the plane with a smile at the flight attendant, eager to be back with Killian once more (when did it come to this, to the ache in her soul when he is not with her?). He's texting when she spots him, and when she slips into the seat next to him, he presses send and turns the phone off, sliding it into his pocket. His eyes light up when he sees her, and she can't help but feel excited.
They are going home. She will get him pardoned. Everything will be perfect.
"I heard you packed your entire closet," he teases her, and she just smiles at him, leaning over to kiss him. Her hand tangles in his hair and she pulls him close, enjoying the way that his body feels against hers.
There is a cough behind them – Regina returning to her seat from the back of the plane. She throws her enormous black Tory Burch bag into the seat across from her. "You two planning on joining the mile high club?" she asks, eyebrow arched, and Killian wraps his arm around Emma. She snuggles into her chest as Killian shrugs.
"Maybe. Race you to it," he says, and Regina looks both scandalized and intrigued by Killian's suggestion, but Robin seems to think it's a grand idea because he pulls his girlfriend down sit beside him.
"Please make sure to turn off all cellular devices," the flight attendant reminds them as she walks through the cabin. Emma glances around, spots Graham and Belle at different ends of the airplane. Graham seems tense, and Emma wonders why – they're going home. She knows the political situation isn't ideal but if her mother wants her home, there has to be a reason for it, right? At least, that's what Emma hopes.
She spends the first hour of the flight talking with Robin and Regina about school (Killian is on his laptop, claiming that he has to work on his paper).
"Do you ever wear your hair up?" Regina asks, and Emma just shrugs (she doesn't, she likes it down). "Would you mind if I braid it? I like my hair short but I miss being able to have fun with it." When Emma agrees, Regina crosses the aisle and pats the empty seat across from Emma. She moves so that she's facing Killian who looks up from his laptop and winks at her.
"How do you want me to braid it?" Regina asks. Emma shrugs, and so Regina starts suggesting ways to get it off of her face and tells her that she can braid it into a crown around her head.
"I'm officially jealous," she says as her fingers move through her hair, and Emma preens just a bit at the compliment from the other girl.
When Regina is done, they cram into the small airplane bathroom to look at it.
"So regal," Regina remarks with a smile, and Emma has to admit, she enjoys the compliment. She's going to enjoy being a princess again, even if it's only for a little while. Maybe she can show Regina her jewels? She's sure the other girl would like that. Maybe they can get the shops on the high street to close for a few hours and she can take the other girl shopping – it would be a nice way to express her gratitude for all that Regina has done for her in the past few days.
"Thanks," she tells Regina as they walk back to their seats. Meal service is about to begin, and Regina swipes a few mini-bottles of wine, which earns her a sharp look from Killian.
"Did you want some?" Emma asks, sitting back down next to him. "We can ask."
He shakes his head, takes her hand in his, and presses a kiss against the back of her hand.
"Everything I need it right here," he tells her, and she can't help but smile.
"Same," she responds, because all she needs his him – it only took her being separated from him to realize that. Nothing – not his past, not her title – matters when they're together. He smiles too, but Emma's not quite sure that it reaches his eyes.
"Are you nervous about going home?" Emma asks. "I'm sorry, I sort of just dragged you – "
Killian laughs, raises an eyebrow. "A bit nervous, yes."
Emma brings her hand up to his face, traces the scruff along his jaw. "I will keep you safe," she promises him, because it is a promise she can make. She will do her best to keep Killian safe from Cassidy. He moves his head and kisses her palm, and she enjoys the scratch of his stubble against her skin (and if it makes her think of earlier in the day, and even the day before, and other ways that they spent their time…well, she can't be blamed for blushing).
The food arrives just in time.
She dozes on and off during the flight – it's rather long, and she sleeps through the refueling – and when she wakes, everyone else is asleep save Killian, who is staring off into the middle distance. She shifts, inhales sharply, and he looks over at her, concerned.
"Everything all right?" he asks, and Emma nods. She shifts, stretching, then undoing her seatbelt so that she can be closer to him, throwing her legs over his lap and letting him pull her close. He brings his forehead to rest against hers, hands coming up to rest on her knees.
"What do you miss the most about home?" she whispers, and Killian reaches his hand up, traces the line of her jaw before leaning back to study her.
"I miss walking on the bridge across the river early in the morning," he tells her, and Emma nods, smiling. She's never done that, but she's watched the sun rise from the palace, the way that it cast rays of dappled gold along the water, the ebb and flow of boats and barges as they went along their daily business. "What about you?"
"I miss my bedroom," she says, and Killian laughs quietly, hand slowly creeping down from her knee and up her thigh. She gasps quietly, glances up at him in surprise as his fingers trace patterns on her leg. She can't help but feel the burn of how much she wants him spread through all of her body, centering between her thighs. They have been together several times in the past few days but she doesn't think it will ever stop, the intensity with which she craves him.
His tone, when he speaks to her again, is light. "Will I get to see this bedroom?" he asks, and Emma takes a deep breath, bites her lip and nods.
"I hope so," she tells him, and he leans forward and kisses her, softly, and she wants nothing more than to be in her bedroom right now (the mile high club is tempting but she won't, not with Graham and Belle so close, not with Regina and Robin sleeping nearby). She pulls away reluctantly, runs her fingers through his hair and just takes him in. "The mattresses they provide on campus are nothing like we have in the palace."
"I can imagine – I've been there before, you know." Killian smiles. "When I first joined the military, there was a reception in one of the ballrooms." He sighs. "Liam took me."
"I'll show you all my favorite hiding places," Emma promises. She wants to show him everything about her home, wants him to love every nook and cranny as much as she does.
"Have you ever been the bakery off the high street – Granny's?" Killian asks, and Emma nods.
"Yes – my mother loves that place. She would take me every year on my birthday – we would sneak in the back door so no one knew we were there." Emma smiles as the memory. "Granny would serve us hot cocoa with cinnamon." Emma has fond memories of the bakery, how Granny would serve them there and, and how she would stay and talk with her mother like an old friend. The scene of cinnamon and chocolate floods her nostrils and she sighs contentedly. "Do you know how my parents met?"
"At the apple festival?"
Emma nods. "My father was on holiday – he was serving in the Danish military, and he came to Sagobok for the festival. My mother was there with her friend Ella, and my father…did not make a good first impression – he spilled his cider on my mother and he was quite rude about it, as she tells the story."
Killian raises his eyebrows. "Did he not recognize her?"
"Apparently not – but why would he? That was before tabloids or the internet, and she was just the princess, and he was just an officer from another country. They got into quite a disagreement over his role in the cider incident, and I believe my mother insulted him. And, because this is my mother we're talking about, of course she felt guilty about it so she offered to buy him breakfast at Granny's as a way to make amends." Emma smiles. "They go there every year for their anniversary before the shop opens to the public and sit at the same table."
The story is Emma's favorite, because her mother used to brush her hair as she told it to Emma, fingers tracing across her brow. "You have to be careful, my darling girl, because love will find you when you least expect it."
Emma glances up at Killian, finds his blue eyes watching her, and she wonders if her mother was right. She never believed her until now.
"What were your favorite treats?" she asks.
"The scones," Killian says. "The ones with the cheese and sausage."
Emma makes a face. "You don't want savory food for breakfast – ew," she complains, and Killian laughs quietly.
"I like them," he tells her. "Not everyone has a sweet tooth like you do."
It's when he talks to her, now, that she realizes they've been speaking in their native tongue and not English at all. Emma takes a moment to let the awareness spread through her, because with it comes the realization that there is no language barrier when it comes to them. Killian knows her – he knows her story, he knows the expectations placed on her, he knows her culture (and, she realizes, he is also coming to know her heart). The thought is heavy, and yet Emma doesn't push it way like she normally does things that are overwhelming or intimidating. Instead, she embraces it.
"You're right," she responds, "they don't. You'll just have to live with it for the foreseeable future."
"It's a cross I'm willing to bear." Killian's hand brushes against her face before he kisses her once more, gently. "I like your hair like this – Regina's quite talented." He touches the delicate braids. "You look good with a crown around your head."
They talk, on and off, about home – their favorite food, their favorite places in Sagobok. He tells her about his school; she tells her about her tutors, and the stupid boys who played polo and who flirted with her recklessly. He tells her about his first kiss (in the alley behind Granny's, with a shopgirl there). She tells him about Walsh, and he reminds her with his touch how he is very different from the boys that she knows from back home (he holds her shaking hands as she tells him, rubbing this thumb against her knuckles, which makes it easier in some ways and harder in others because he is so very different from Walsh and it makes her hate the other boy so much more), .
He can't stop his hands from touching her, whether it's tracing her face or holding her hands tightly in his. Emma can't stop touching him either, and she wishes for nothing more than to be at the palace already so she can sleep with him curled tightly around her (she thinks that will scandalize her father far more than her mother).
Soon the others wake and breakfast is served, and Emma's anticipation at going home grows. She cannot wait to be home, to hug her mother and father, to introduce them to Killian. As the plane lands, her excitement builds inside of her until she's ready to burst.
They deplane, and Emma smiles as she steps onto her own soil. The air smells different here – cooler and crisper, maybe because it's home. There is a spring in her step as she sees the limo that will take them to the palace. She cannot wait to see her mother, her father, cannot wait to hold them and introduce them to Killian. The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon, and she hopes today will be beautiful enough to match how happy she feels, right now, at this moment.
She hears Killian fall into step beside her, and she turns to face him. "My parents aren't expecting you but – "
She hears the buzz of her phone and Graham's, watches Graham pull his phone out, his mouth open, looking at her –
And then there is a bang, and now those eyes are suddenly distant and glassy, he falls to his knees and behind him is Belle, gun in her outstretched hand, and then there is movement, someone is grabbing her, there is shouting -
The lights go out around her, and that is when she starts to scream.
…
When Graham goes down, Killian springs into action (he cannot mourn his friend, cannot do that now, not with Emma here, not with Emma so vulnerable). He barely takes a second to glance at Belle (he can hear her I'm so sorry over and over in his head and dammit they were all so blind) before he pulls the sidearm out from the holster under his hoodie and aims at one of the large lights that illuminate the tarmac.
He pulls the trigger and it shatters, shards of glass and filament falling down to earth,and that is when he grabs Emma and he starts to run.
"Shit," he hears Robin says as he falls into step, "I didn't think he was serious." They run behind the airplane, sheltered by the hulking shape of the jet.
He does a quick count – Regina, Robin, Emma (who has stopped screaming but is most definitely hyperventilating right now). He needs to get them out of the airport quickly, and he needs them not to be followed. Luckily none of them have their bags with them save for Regina, who has her giant purse over her shoulder, gripping the straps so tight that, even in the dim light of the tarmac, he can tell that her knuckles are white.
And that is when the guns start to go off behind them, bullets hitting the plane and they need to move now.
"Let's go," he says, grabbing Emma and running towards the hangar (he has been here before, he knows that they can find a way out behind or through the hangar. Their footsteps are loud but the guns are not following them – at least, not for now.
The hangar looms overhead, dark and hulking in the early-morning light and they don't slow down until they are in its shadow, creeping around the side (it is too bright, they need to hide her). Killian turns to Emma.
"You need to lose your phone – now," he tells her, more forcefully than he wanted to, and Emma looks terrified. Killian takes off his hoodie while he says it, holster now obvious, and he shrugs that off too – he cannot run around town with it on – and Regina grabs it, shoving it into her giant purse (he notices the other girl is shaking just as badly as he is, and that so is Robin, and he never thought they'd actually have to put their plan into action - )
"But my parents – "
"This was a trap, Emma," Regina steps forward, glancing at Killian as she does, and Killian returns his attention the area around the hangar. He is grateful for Regina's assistance as he scans the perimeter, listening to her talk to Emma (Regina's voice is cool and calm and composed, exactly like it is when she's on the radio as The Evil Queen).
"Your phone has GPS monitoring, right?" Regina says softly, quietly. "Your bodyguard just shot –" Regina's voice catches, "your other bodyguard. We need to disappear. You can keep the phone - let's get the sim card out." Her hand moves towards her ear and she pulls out her earring (he's seen Regina use her earring on Robin's phone before, knows exactly what she's doing, damn Regina is good in stressful situations).
"And fast," Robin adds, gun out and at the ready, and for the first time since Graham texted him (he can't think about Graham, he'll mourn him later, he has to get Emma to safety) Killian is grateful that the other man thought ahead enough to have them armed. He is also happy that Regina insisted on an exit strategy, because he's been thinking about it since before the plane, exactly what streets to take them down and what streets to avoid –
He knows that there's a text from his contact waiting for him but he can't stop to read it now while Gold's men are still out there looking for them (there is movement at the far end of the airfield, shouting, and it's getting light outside which means they need to get on the move quickly). There is barbed wire above the fence but Robin's coat could protect them, and if he propels Emma over -
There is a crunch, and Killian watches Emma stomp repeatedly on her sim card, eyes wide and terrified as Regina slips her earring back into her ear, and he shoves his gun into his back pocket, wraps his hoodie around her. He cups her face between his hands, thumbs brushing over her cheeks (she looks so scared, his love, and he never wants to see that look in her wide green eyes again).
"I am not going to let anything happen to you, okay?" he promises her. He adjust the hoodie on her, ignoring the cold morning air, bringing the hood up to cover her face (he is so grateful Regina braided her hair back on the plane, it'll make it easier to hide her in the city, Regina thinks so quickly on her feet -). He kisses her quickly before turning to the fence. "Robin, if we throw your jacket over the top – "
"Like in the movies – got it. Go over first." Robin slings his jacket up and over, and Killian shakes his head.
"You go first – help them down," he tells the other man, who merely shrugs and vault the fence with ease. Regina goes next, falling into Robin's arms with a stifled giggle, and then Emma (she is shaking, Killian feels her body shake as he propels her over the fence and it kills him that he can't comfort her, not yet, not until they get to the Grand Palace – )
He joins them on the other side, delicately grabs Robin's jacket, hands it to the other man, and hands Regina his gun to store in her purse (there is no place on his person to hide it, and he dropped his bag when he grabbed Emma's hand at the airport). They take off in a run.
He tries not to think too hard about the lack of a pursuit, but Eira is not a big country and he assumes that Gold will find them regardless of where they hole up. He assumes Gold is thinking the same thing.
They make it to the edge of the city before they have to slow their pace, as people are starting to wake up and head to work, and so four youth running might be suspicious. He loops his arm around Emma and pulls her tight against him, and she curls into him. She must be so terrified, and her pain becomes his pain as he worries how he will get her safe, how he will calm her down –
"Stop." Regina glances down an alley. "Over there – I want to get something," she tells Killian, who frowns. In front of them is a convenience store, full of early-morning customer grabbing coffee and the morning paper. "Do you trust me?"
Killian nods. Regina has been steady (though scared) throughout all of this, and he doesn't think she'd throw them over now. He trusts her.
"I'll be right back," she tells them, shoving her hands into her pocket and crossing the street quickly. Robin leans against the wall and watches as she disappears into the store, and Killian is wary. He makes her that he and Emma are at an angle, in case there is a CCTV camera nearby that could get a good look at their faces. They are out in public, with Gold's men anywhere and everywhere, and that is when Robin starts talking.
"See the match last night?" he asks, his voice taking on an accent similar to Killian's, and it dawns on him, slowly, that Robin is providing a distraction (quick thinking – talkative youth are way less likely to be noticed than hulking silent youth loitering outside a store) and so Killian shakes his head, smiling at his friend, before looking down at Emma.
"Hey," he says softly, and she takes a deep breath.
"Hey," she replies, and then he leans forward and kisses her, because Regina's errand has bought him a modicum of time calm Emma down, to get her focused. Her lips are soft and warm underneath his, and he wants so desperately to be anywhere else – anyplace other than here, on a street corner, courting trouble. Robin chatters aimlessly, his accent reasonably good, talking about soccer but all that Killian cares about is the way that Emma clutches his shirt with her hands, the movement of her lips, the way it feels to kiss her.
"Done." When he looks up, Regina is back, clutching a small bag. "You still trust me?"
"Yes," Emma replies, her voice firm, and Killian smiles at the steel that supports her voice. "I trust you."
"Good, because you're not going to like me after I'm done with you," Regina says. She grabs Emma's arm and pulls them into the Burger King next door. Robin and Killian follow nervously.
Regina hands Robin her Amex. "Buy whatever you want and pretend that you're named Regina," she says. "Give us fifteen minutes and I promise I'll lower your blood pressure." She grabs Emma's hand and the two of them head into the bathroom. Killian can hear the lock on the door 'click' loudly in the early morning gloom of the restaurant.
Robin blows his breath out loudly, and turns to Kilian. "Think they have sausage biscuits here?" he asks as he rubs his stomach with his hand. "I am starving."
Killian can't help but smile.
…
"I am not dying my hair in a Burger King bathroom," Emma says, crossing her arms across her chest as Regina mixes chemicals together, puts the cap on the bottle and shakes it.
"Too bad, princess, you're a bit recognizable," Regina points out. "Now, take off your shirt so I don't get any dye on you."
Emma is scandalized by Regina's blunt tone (princesses do not just strip) but she does so anyway, unzipping Killian's hoodie and dropping it on top of Regina's bag, and then pulling off the black long-sleeved shirt she was wearing. Regina jerks her head towards the sink.
"I'm not happy about this," Emma says, wincing as Regina undoes the braids and starts to put cold dye on her hair, working it into the roots with her hands. The scent of harsh chemicals fills the room. Regina sighs audibly.
"Neither am I – your hair is a national treasure, sweetheart, whoever does your highlights deserves all the awards – but you'll be easy to recognize and we can't have that right now." Regina keeps working the dye through her hair quietly.
Emma takes a moment, and thinks about the past few hours.. She never thought – she never knew –
"Graham is dead," she says. Regina's hand stops moving on her head.
"Yeah," Regina responds. "Yeah he is." She squeezes more dye onto Emma's hair.
When she finishes, she tells Emma to wait. "We're not going for full saturation, just enough that it matters." She places the plastic gloves on the countertop carefully, and then pulls out her phone. She messes with it while Emma sits and stares at her reflection in the mirror (the dark mass of hair piled on top of her head makes her look so incredibly pale, just like Graham, oh Graham - )
"Hopefully Killian has figured out where we can stay by now," Regina says, taking out her phone and checking for service. "I wanted to buy us time." Regina pauses. "I'm sorry about your hair."
"That's okay," Emma tells her, but her conversation with Killian yesterday has given her inspiration.
Granny would protect her. Granny would keep her safe, and alert the palace. No one could bribe Granny.
"I know a place," Emma tells her. "I know someone that will help us."
Emma lowers her wet hair in the rather fancy Dyson that the bathroom has, and then redresses. When she looks in the mirror, she barely recognizes herself. The image she sees is of her mother at her age, from the green eyes to the dark hair falling around her face. It is frightening, but at the same time a small comfort, to be so close to her mother even if she's still far away.
"I look like my mother," Emma tells Regina, who digs around in her purse until she finds her makeup bag.
"Let's fix that," she says.
When Emma exits the bathroom, she is wearing heavy eyeliner and dark lipstick, looking more punk than she ever has, even if her hair falls over her face in damp waves. Killian's eyes meet hers and she is terrified at first because she looks so different but he smiles and exits the booth. His hand brushes reverently over her forehead, pulling a lock of hair into his hand and running it between his fingers. His fingers dips into the crease in her chin, and she smiles and leans her forehead against his.
"I was afraid you wouldn't like it," Emma explains, and Killian just hmms.
"You could shave your head bald and I'd still fancy you," he tells her, and her heart soars at his words.
"I have a plan," Emma says with a smile. "We're going to get you a better breakfast than this."
Killian raises an eyebrow. "You can't possibly mean," he starts to say and Emma can't help but beam. She glances at the table to find two breakfast sandwich wrappers, and then turns back to him.
"Unless you're already full – "
"I always have room for scones," he tells her. He nods, and Robin stands up, grabbing Regina's hand and following Emma and Killian out of the building.
Emma keeps her head down but with brown hair, no one gives her a second glance – or, at least, she assumes they don't. Killian has his hood up over his head, his arm around her shoulders, and the fingers of his left hand play with her hair nervously as they proceed through the city streets that are just beginning to be touched by the sun. Regina's heels behind them click on the pavement and even though they reach Granny's in no time, Emma's heart doesn't stop racing until they reach the back entrance.
Emma knocks and they wait, glancing around them. This early, Granny should be baking in the back. When Granny finally opens the door, her mouth goes wide and she looks frightened, like she's seen a ghost (and she probably has – she knew Emma's mother as a girl).
"Get inside," she commands, grabbing Emma's hand and pulling her in. The others follow as Granny leads them to the storage room, where bags of flour and sugar line the shelves. She pulls on a string, and a single bulb lights up the darkness.
"You look just like her," Granny remarks, eyes scanning Emma's face. "What are you doing here? You should be far away from here."
"How do you know that?" Emma asks, her heart racing (is it common knowledge that Cassidy plans to take her mother's throne?). Granny's frown grows deeper.
"I know lots of things, princess," Granny admits. "And one of them is that you should not be here."
"It was a trap," Killian says, stepping forward. "Emma was told that her mother wanted her home, but it turns out that one of her bodyguards must have been working for Cassidy all along."
Granny stares at Killian, brow furrowing. "I know you," she says softly. "I caught you with that one girl in the back alley." Killian ducks his head and scratches the back of his neck, and Emma grabs his free hand, making it abundantly clear just who he's with right now (she can't help it if she's a bit territorial at the thought of some shopgirl from Killian's past).
"We need a place to hide," she begs. "Can you help us?"
Granny sighs, rubbing her hands on her apron. "For the love I bear for your family, I will help you. Let me makes sure that my shopboy is minding the front, and then I'll take you upstairs." She turns to Robin and Regina, looking them over before leaving the storage room, shouting, "August!" at the top of her lungs. She closes the door behind them.
There is a collective sigh of relief, and Emma watches as Robin embraces Regina. Killian wraps his arms around her from behind, burying his face in her neck.
"You're bloody brilliant," he says, his words vibrating throughout her body, and Emma brings her hand up to her mouth to cover the hysterical laugh that is about to come out. She feels hysterical – this entire morning has been a whirlwind, and she can't even process what has happened every step of the way (she has brown hair now, Graham is dead, she is hiding at Granny's-)
"I promised I'd keep you safe," she tells him, and he pulls back, smiles at her.
"Aye, love, you did." His eyes take on a softness that she's seen in them a few times before, and he brings his hand up to cup her face (she never wants him to stop touching her).
The door opens again and Granny enters. "Follow me," she tells them, guiding them up the back stairs to her apartment above the bakery.
"There's one bedroom over there," she tells Regina and Robin. "Don't use up all my hot water." And then she looks at Emma and Killian. "Come on."
She shows them the other bedroom, apologizing for the smallness of the room, and when Emma realizes that it is Granny's room, she refuses, but the other woman insists.
"God willing, you will be my queen one day," Granny says. "What's one night on my sofa when my sovereign has need of me?"
Her words cause Emma's lip to tremble, and emotions to course through her. "Thank you – I am so sorry for dragging you into this but I didn't know where else to turn – "Emma starts, but Granny shakes her head.
"I'm not scared of Rumpel Cassidy," the older woman insists. She leads them into the kitchen, instructing them to have a seat while she goes to the tea kettle. When Emma and Killian sit, his phone vibrates and so he takes it out, checks it quickly. Whatever he sees much cause him relief, because he relaxes visibly in his chair, closing his eyes.
"What's up?" Emma asks, and Killian shakes his head.
"I'll tell you later," he responds, but Granny's voice cuts through the room.
"You'll tell us now." Granny places three mugs on the table, and then some scones – savory and sweet – and when the kettle goes off, she pours them tea before taking her seat. "Tell me everything, starting at the very beginning."