So maybe confessing that she loves Killian before hanging up with him wasn't Emma's best plan, but there's some sort of peace that follows that moment. For one, Emma is able to catch three hours of sleep after she knows her gear is completely packed. It makes her more alert when it comes time to head out, and she's able to give a hand to a couple of the younger soldiers that have never deployed.
She scores a seat next to Mulan, the two of them locking their arms together during take-off, and grinning their way through it. The picture on the calendar had been of her and Killian, green beers in hand and the fact below about 1% of the world's beer being consumed on St. Patrick's Day. The message from Killian simply reads "To contributing to the one percent again, as soon as you're home" and she smiled wide before packing it carefully into her duffel.
The flight is long and boring, and she's pretty sure she doesn't stop to relax from that point on. It barely takes a week before she's sending e-mails to Killian asking for reinforcements from home. Nothing will ever make the trailer she's in any more comfortable, but if she can't sleep longer than an hour because she's so damn miserable, it's going to be a long deployment.
When the package finally arrives one day from home, Emma quickly pulls out her laptop and loads up the e-mail from Killian that came in three days prior. It takes a few minutes to fully download, and she holds her breath as she taps it again to bring up the video.
He's sitting at his kitchen table with the same box by his elbow, a tired smile on his face as he looks into the camera on his own computer. She hits play as soon as the tape on the box is removed, waiting for the video to begin.
"Hello, my love," he says when it finally starts playing. She has listened to the emphasis on 'my love' so many times in the last three days that she's lost count. "If you've not received the boxes from all of us yet, I ask that you hit stop on this video so that we might go through it together."
She's gotten this far before. She's seen the widening of his smile as his eyes look fondly at the lens, as if he's sitting across from her on the bunk instead of all the way over in Storybrooke, and as if he knows that she wanted nothing more than to continue watching the video even though she hadn't gotten the mail from home yet.
"If you've not gotten the packages yet and you're still watching, that's considered cheating in this game, darling, and bad form."
Emma smiles wide at his admonishing expression, even when he tsks her with a mischievous smile. She pulls the box closer when he moves to place it in his lap, anxious to finally see what they've all sent her.
"On to the presents!" he says joyfully, reaching in to start pulling out the items one at a time. She mimics him, opening the flaps of cardboard to display the contents. "Firstly, you'll find the books and movies you requested. Mary Margaret was unable to locate your copy of the first Harry Potter, so she sent you hers. Next, the impressive list of snacks you've all asked for. I threw in extra Nutella treats for you, my love, since I happen to know they're your favorite."
There they are beneath a thick layer of bubble wrap, and Emma resists tearing one open right then and there, anxious for the sweet fix that she plans on sharing but will also stash around her room for herself. But there's still a giant box of stuff to get through, and she's more curious to see what else was sent her way.
"You'll find, underneath the mountain of sugar, that we've sent along the sheets and pillowcases you requested. Your pillows are in the next box, which should get there around the same time as this one, although I think Mary Margaret beat me to the post office by a day and you may have already received that one."
Sure enough, the box in question is sitting next to her bed, Mary Margaret's flowery handwriting stating "Open Me Second!" on a corner at the top. Her heart aches at the sweetness of the gesture, but she's distracted from it by the voice speaking softly to her again.
"She may have included a couple things all her own for you, but I'm sure you'll discover those when you open it up." He sucks in a breath and lets it back out again. "Continuing, you'll find a couple more of the items you requested. I included a stash of pens to go with the notebooks and blank cards, in case you didn't have any. And the last item in the box needs to be saved. Wait until homesickness really takes root. It'll hopefully help in the hour of need."
She touches the bag in question only briefly, because a surge of homesickness crashes through her, but it ebbs away again and she knows it's not quite time, yet. She pauses the video in order to stash it away immediately to remove the temptation; the time she's going to be here is still young, so she grabs the bag (that appears to be duct taped, jeez) and places it at the top of her footlocker.
With the box from Killian emptied, she sets it off to the side and presses play again, already dreading the end of the video.
"All done then, aye?" She nods at the video, as if he can see her reaction, and he nods back at her, as if he's mirroring her. "Aye, well. Let me tell you a little bit about what's going on around here. Hades has reared that ugly face of his again." And off he launches into a story about the country club. She checks the video and sees there's another few minutes left. Seems he wasn't ready to end it just as she was unwilling for it to end.
Emma watches him talk, could watch him talk for hours (in fact, she has before) if she had her way. And when the video is coming to a close, her stomach clenches up. Again, mirroring her, Killian's face takes on the pinched expression of emotional pain that she's seen before, but never in direct relation to her, and it hurts that much more for her to see it. "I believe this video is nearing its size limit, so I'd better end it now. I uh, yeah. That's all I've got for today. I miss you already, Swan. Be safe, and – yeah, you know." He tilts his chin down and looks at the camera from beneath his lashes, and a spark of want flares in her.
It's going to be a very long deployment.
The image freezes on his smiling face, and she reaches out with one hand to stroke down the lines of his cheek, over his brow, before forcing herself to close out of the window. She only has a limited amount of time before her roommate gets back, and she wants to be settled into her bedding from home before that happens.
Mary Margaret's box includes a sweet card, specifically designed to be sent to troops, which tells her how proud she is of Emma. It includes the list of items she sent, which is definitely more than just pillows. As she slips the small travel bottles out, each one taped shut and triple bagged, she smiles wide.
"Mary Margaret," Emma whispers, finding the little key which indicates which liquor is in which bag. It'll be a long deployment, but she really does have the best friends in the world.
-x-
She was right; there's nothing that could make the bed and trailer truly comfortable, but the smell of her laundry detergent on her flannel sheets, the feel of her own pillows and her favorite blanket (thanks again to Mary Margaret) makes it bearable, at least. The nip of booze every once in a while, doesn't hurt either.
The office lunges for the various treats as soon as she brings them in, and she's glad she stashed a few of them for herself beforehand.
The paper and pens get used almost immediately. She sends a letter to Mary Margaret, thanking her for the items from home, the use of her book, and the signatures of no less than five fellow soldiers who have benefited from the liquor.
She writes one to Killian, too, giving him brief snippets on the things that are going on. The one pad of paper gets devoted to a journal, of sorts, allowing Emma to jot down the thoughts she can't share with any of her friends back home and doesn't want to share with anyone that's with her.
Calendar pages get torn off and stashed daily. She encounters pictures of Mary Margaret and David, in various combinations with herself. There are pictures of Ruby and Mulan, with and without Emma. There are reluctant shots of Regina, and less reluctant pictures of her with Robin and his son. There are three days in a row of pictures of her and Killian – a series when he managed to dump an entire cup of ice down the back of her shirt. The last is her retaliation, him soaked from head to toe emerging from the pool outside her apartment building.
It takes an additional three weeks for her to crack and open the sealed bag from Killian, and when she does she almost immediately starts sobbing. The moment she gets part of the bag opened, the smell of him overwhelms her and she has to take a minute to calm her breathing down before she can continue. She wriggles a finger into the side and rips it the rest of the way open, revealing a familiar black article of clothing.
His chef's coat is as clean as it can be, given the time it's spent with him in the kitchen, but he'd obviously been baking the day he packaged it up. It smells of cinnamon and bread, with a slight hint of chocolate mixed in there as well. And somehow, neither drowned out or overpowering all of those, is the smell of Killian's deodorant and cologne. It must've been from his menu tasting day or something, because she knows he would've never sent one that he'd been sweating in all day.
Carefully, she lifts the coat from the bag, and a piece of paper flutters out of the folds. She grabs the note and sets it to the side, instead pulling the coat to her nose to inhale a few times. She slips it over her shoulders before reaching for his message. It's not a long one, but it makes her love him just a little bit more, if possible.
Dearest Swan,
If you've pulled this out, it's because the homesickness has well and truly taken hold and I figured you might appreciate the brunch menu we're working on for Easter. Big things are happening at CS Country Club. Luckily, I wasn't doing most of the hard work, so it's not too terribly gross, compared to my other coats. Though I doubt you would care if it was, because you're weird like that. If it loses the smell, send it back and I'll purposefully recreate the whole thing just to send you a new one.
Don't forget. You have a piercing-eyed, smoldering chef here who loves you, and I very much look forward to you being home.
Love, Killian
"Thank you," she whispers to the room, "I love you, too."
-x-
It's not all bad. There are plenty of things that keep her head from getting caught up too much in what's going on and where she is.
She gets regular mail from Mary Margaret, both in the form of emails, and letters and cards with heartfelt words written inside. There are packages from various friends in town, sending along snacks and junk food. The rest of her office also gets mail, and they begin sharing snacks whenever new ones come in. They also get bulk supplies of shampoo and conditioner, toothpaste, and lotions.
The mother lode of all food items comes from Granny, of course. There's a disparaging comment about the food enclosed not measuring up to hers, but below that is a cornucopia of items. In individual bags, there's various sauces: hot sauce, ketchup, barbeque, honey mustard, ranch. There are single servings of salt and pepper. She sends several packages of different kinds of jerky. And on the bottom of the box, triple layered in bubble wrap, are two cases of ramen instant packs.
If there's such a thing as eating like kings on deployment, they do so for two full weeks before the bigger ticket items run out.
There are almost continuous messages from Killian. He sends quick emails to fill her in on what's going on. There's a tonal change from the first month of her deployment to the ones that come after, but she has an idea that it comes with the territory of settling into her absence. There's a particularly excellent treat that comes in one of those, that comes with pictures, and she blushes for the next day and a half at even the thought of what he did in her bed. But for the most part, they're normal correspondences with Killian, and she wonders if this is how they would've interacted if he'd been there for her previous one, and if he would've been this good at it if they weren't dating before she left.
As far as the statistics go, she thinks they must not have their own Killians at home, because there's nothing in this godforsaken hellhole that could ever measure up. She gets hit on quite a bit from members of different units, a hazard of being a woman in the military, but they all get shot down, one by one, and it sticks. If it doesn't, she's lucky enough to have August (who has his own sweetheart waiting back at home) to watch her back, and he's just one line of defense.
She gets to Skype with Killian sometimes, fighting with the Wi-Fi to give her five minutes, just enough to see his tired but smiling face looking back at her, to hear his sleepy voice as his lips move on the screen (or seconds behind when the words have reached her, as is customary with their less-than-stellar connections).
"What's on your calendar today?" he asks near the end of their short time.
"Let's see, June 14. 'The tongue is the strongest muscle in the body after the heart, jaw, and glutes. It consists of eight small muscles.' And below this, you've written 'wink wink' beneath a picture of you and Will with blue tongues from the slushes we got at the carnival last summer."
"The wink wink stands, Swan. I could say some things about the strength of tongues but I feel as if both of us would be upset if I did."
She chuckles in agreement, enjoying the way Killian's eyebrows jump in short jerky movements from the video quality.
"I miss you, love," he says softly when there's a lull again, and her fingers itch to reach out and touch him. It's been four months since she last kissed him and she's looking at another five or six, depending on when they end up leaving.
For Father's Day, there's a picture of Emma and David in their police uniforms, leaning against the cruiser. She's always said that since she didn't have a father of her own that David was the closest thing she'd ever have to one, and their matching smiles certainly look familial. His scratchy handwriting takes up the space below the trivia for the day, reading "Why can't you hear a pterodactyl go to the bathroom? Because the pee is silent!" and it actually makes her snort from laughing.
On July 1, there's a picture of Emma and Mary Margaret, probably the first one they ever took together, sitting in a booth at Granny's with cheesy smiles on their faces. Visible behind them are a portion of the miners that love to drink after they get done working for the day. The fact of the day: "Rejected names for the dwarf's included: Jaunty, Blabby, Dirty, Gabby, Biggy-Wiggy, Gaspy, Gloomy, Awful, Deefy, Hoppy-Jumpy, Hotsy, Nifty, and Shifty."
Killian's message beneath it mentions something about them needing a dwarf named "Stealthy" to round out the pack.
Some days, there are messages from him; little scrawls that tell her he misses her and wishing she was home with him. Other times he writes about a random moment in their history. "Remember that time…?" starts a lot of them. There are long notes of love and encouragement from Mary Margaret and David, each of them taking up several days just to tell her how proud of her they are, mixed in with the occasional dad-joke from David (his specialty). There's even a message from Granny telling Emma that she'll have a plate of onion rings ready the second she walks back through that door.
The most surprising mail she gets is a small envelope from Ruby that appears in mid-July.
There's a cryptic message inside, which she's guessing has something to do with Mulan's position as NCO, which reads "I know some things. I have some plans." Inside the box is a detailed sizing chart with places for her to write in her numbers and a measuring tape. She shrugs when she reads the message and goes about her day, leaving the card until her next free moment.
When she gets back to her trailer after work, she diligently sets out the little card and a pencil, pulling the tape just tight enough over the areas that are requested, carefully holding the tape beneath her heel to take the length of legs from natural waist to her ankles. She diligently marks each number next to the appropriate spot, reminding Ruby that no matter what her bust size says, she also likes to breathe.
Her favorite calendar day comes just two weeks after she sends the card back to Ruby. It's a simple matter of irony. It's not the fact of the day ("Hermit crabs have ten legs. The front six are walking legs, and the back four stay in the shell") that holds her attention later that night when she returns to her bunk. No, it's the message from Killian written at the very bottom of the little page that reads "Please come home soon" that causes a short burst of laughter.
On this day, in the beginning of August, Mulan looks at her and says, "How would you like to go to Mary Margaret and David's wedding?"
"We don't get leave this time around."
"Not leave. We're going home early."
She gets back to her trailer, stunned and smiling, and tries to figure out how to process the news that she'll be back in time for the wedding. Not only that, but it means that in just fifty-eight days, she'll be back on American soil. And a few weeks after that, she'll be home. She'll see her friends. She'll get to see Mary Margaret in her wedding dress.
And Killian? She'll get to tell him she loves him in person this time.
As if thinking his name summons him, she remembers that they're supposed to be video chatting right around the same time she realizes she's crying. She swipes at her eyes, trying to compose herself as the call continues to beep excessively at her. She reaches for her computer again and knocks the decline button on accident.
Taking a deep breath, she realizes this is probably a blessing, because she can get herself composed before calling him back. But he's persistent and calls again, just as a fresh wave of tears is crashing, and this time she hits the button on purpose. She immediately types into the chat that she needs a minute and rushes around her trailer to make herself presentable again.
Less than three minutes later, she's settled on her bunk with her laptop in front of her, pushing the button to call Killian back.
"I was worried my computer was acting up again and wasn't even calling. Everything all right, love?"
"Yeah," Emma says, trying to keep the utter elation out of her voice. Her smile is warm, and he mirrors it back at her. "Just been a crazy day. I can't even tell if my head is on straight anymore."
"Looks like it is," he comments with a wink. "I have some exciting news about the club, but I think I'll save it for another day. Or just e-mail it to you. Today I want to tell you all about how Will Scarlet is utterly and genuinely in love with our pastry chef."
The conversation takes her mind off her own exciting news, which makes it easier on her. She wants nothing more than to tell Killian that she's coming home early, but the idea of surprising him is way too appealing, so she bottles her happiness over that matter and focuses on his story instead.
She squashes the urge to say "See you soon!" when they're ending the call, even when Killian again expresses how much he's looking forward to having her back in town.
"My life is just a tiny bit boring without you here, Swan. And I want you to know that I would've said that even if I hadn't fallen in love with you before you left," he tells her. It's not the first time he's so blatantly-yet-indirectly told her he loves her, but it still makes her stomach flutter like crazy. She can't fight the smile that forms from his words, even if he downright refuses to just say "I love you" in just those words.
She supposes, as the video ends and she's left in the quiet of her bunk again, that she deserves as much with how she told him.
-x-
Being back on American soil after seven months away is weird. It's not the first time she's noted this exact sensation, as her other deployment was a little bit longer, even if she did have leave halfway through it.
Her initial reaction to being back home (-ish, they're in New Jersey and still have weeks until she'll actually be home) is that it's cold. Of course, most places would be after being in Afghanistan. It's cold, and the air smells so clean (yes, even in Jersey) and she stands outside for a solid five minutes before hauling her stuff into the barracks. It's October, so the leaves are changing and the air is crisp, and she would soak it up all day if she could.
The first wave of panic over the plan to keep her homecoming secret comes the first night. She ends up furiously texting Ruby about what to do about mail and stuff. What does she do if Killian wants to Skype again? What does she do if…? What does she do when…?
Ruby, for her part, is on top of all of it. She sends back that she's intercepted the care package that should've been sent out to her already. She told Mary Margaret that she wanted to add some things for Mulan and would handle shipping it out to them this time around. All of the stuff that she and Mulan had already sent home is sitting at Ruby's apartment in Boston, and she's still trying to figure out how to get Emma's stuff back to her apartment without anyone noticing what she's doing.
As for Killian, Ruby tells her to brush off any attempts to Skype. She tells her to kind of pay attention to time differences, and to respond as close to when she would've responded when she was over there. It's clear that the effort it takes to hide will be exhausting, but Ruby reminds her that it'll be worth it for the look on Killian's face when she gets back, when he gets to hold her in his arms long before he thought he would.
The calendar days get peeled off faster and slower. The pile grows, but it still feels like ages as she counts down the time until she gets to go home. It doesn't help that they get delayed more than once, so that they have to push back the surprise plans from Mary Margaret's bachelorette party to the rehearsal dinner. That means she has to live with just a text from Killian on her birthday, accompanied by a picture of the group from dinner last year around her swan cake.
Then it moves from the rehearsal dinner to the morning of, to the ceremony, and finally (and hurriedly) to the reception.
When they land at Logan airport, Emma and Mulan are both drunk. The stress of heading home mixed with such big reunion plans has them both sipping drinks before the flight. So when it was delayed, they just kept sipping. Then there were drinks on the plane (half of which they got free as soon as they said they were going home from deployment) and they won't admit to it, but they stop at the bar when the plane lands to get one more shot before the first reunion of the day.
As they finally wander out of the terminal, the cab is just pulling up in a supreme act of perfect timing. Emma relaxes in the back seat, finally feeling like the world is taking a breather as they head to meet up with Ruby. Had there been just a little more time between the ceremony and reception, she would've been there to pick them up from the airport.
They have to get ready at a rest stop outside of Storybrooke, which includes having to remove their hair from the permanent bun-shaped messes they were. Ruby wanders in half-way through that process, throwing herself into Mulan's arms and hugging her tight for several minutes before she's willing to let go. It's a race after that to get them wedding reception ready in the short amount of time they have left.
To be fair, it probably would've been a little easier had two of them not still been tipsy, but other than a touch of exasperation in her voice as she yells at Mulan to hold still while she restyles her hair, or telling Emma to stop fucking with the dress and just put the damn thing on!, it's more a point of humor, especially when it comes to the bridesmaid dress.
"Ruby," Emma huffs out. The dress is on…ish. But there are these long pieces that are supposed to wrap around her. She's holding those over her breasts, but has one end in her hand, rubbing it across her cheek. "I don't know how to do this," she explains, "but this fabric is so soft."
For her part, Ruby just laughs and zips up the back of Mulan's black sheath dress and kisses her exposed neck once before wandering over to help Emma.
"It's a convertible dress. You just have to wrap it so it stays on. There's no right or wrong way."
"Well, obviously there's a wrong way because this isn't staying on. I am holding it in place."
"Here, let me. Do you want it halter or one strap or – "
"You're speaking gibberish, Red. Just wrap it so my boobs don't fall out. I don't care how much Killian would want that. I want my homecoming to be a good thing, not a scandalous wardrobe malfunction."
The other two women laugh, and Ruby finally ties off the dress.
"There. That should hold you. Ready?"
"Ready," Mulan says, capping the matte lipstick in her hand.
"Let's go, so I can kiss my boyfriend."
-x-
The reception hall is so much bigger than Emma expected it to be. The outside of the place looks like a castle, which Emma already knew from the pictures that Mary Margaret sent along when they booked the venue. But the stone structure in front of her is sprawling and huge. Located just outside Storybrooke's town limits, it's close enough for the majority of their guest list, but also far enough away that many of the wedding goers have chosen to book rooms in the bed and breakfast portion attached to the back of the hall.
With one more deep breath, they exit Ruby's car when two valets open the doors and assist them out. The main attendant hands Ruby her collection ticket and bids them goodnight, motioning his hand to the massive door behind him. Another man is waiting to hold it open for them, and they all give each other looks, knowing that this fairytale scene is something only Mary Margaret could've found.
Down the main hallway, they admire the chandeliers, the accent pieces, the artwork, until they get to the doors of the main ballroom. The doors are propped open, and Emma can see Mary Margaret and David at the main table. True to their words, there's a seat open next to them where she would've sat, and another empty one where Ruby will be sitting. She's exasperated to see that Killian is also missing from his seat, but the cocktail hour is just starting, so there's a chance he's running late.
Her stomach drops out, and suddenly she's afraid that they've timed this all wrong, but then she must hit the right patch of light on her way to the bridal table and Mary Margaret's eyes go wide when she sees Emma. With the music still low for mingling, she can hear the other woman gasp first, before letting out a high-pitched squeal.
David, who had been turned towards her instead of looking out at the party, looks utterly confused as Mary Margaret knocks her chair back and sprints around the table, her eyes filling with tears as she gets close enough to hug Emma, and then he's out of his chair just as fast. He's only a split second behind his new wife in embracing her, his hand cupping the back of her head as Mary Margaret sniffles against her shoulder.
"Did Ruby give you the super waterproof mascara today?" Emma asks quietly, all at once overwhelmed but feeling completely content enclosed by her friends.
"I didn't know why," Mary Margaret squeaks out, adding in, "This is the best wedding gift you could've gotten us."
"And here I thought the Twister bed sheets I sent you from Amazon were the best gift ever."
They finally release her, just enough to hold her at arm's length and stare at her as if she isn't real. Mary Margaret still has tears rolling down her cheeks, and David looks like he's one blink away from spilling over, while Emma can tell that she's crying all over again, as well. She opens her mouth to say something else, make another joke, tell her how much she's missed them, when their eyes shift to a spot just beyond her shoulder.
Turning, she already knows he's going to be there, and he looks so shocked. There's a perfect opening between her at the head of the room and him all the way at the back, as if the guests parted to create the perfect aisle for them. His lips move, and even with the space between their bodies, it's like she can hear him say her name. He's walking with purpose after that, not quite running but definitely no longer dillydallying to get to her. She expects a hug, and she gets that and so much more.
Killian's lips connect hard with hers, his arms wrapping tight around her waist as she winds hers around his neck.
Their friends are whooping and catcalling, there's a spotlight on them now, and Emma doesn't care.
She's home.