Okay here we are! Sorry this one took so long to write! School got the best of me these past couple of days. The next update will hopefully be much faster :) thank you for your patience and support with this story! Your reviews have been the highlight of my day! As always, all characters/rights belong to OUAT - and a shout out to Jane Austen for the bit of paraphrasing you'll come across ;)
"David, this is really not nearly as big of a deal as you're making it seem."
Emma had been on the phone for the better part of an hour with her nosy cousin discussing what she believed were very nonessential details for the weekend. It wasn't David's fault really - his heart was in the right place as it always was. Emma just disliked the topic he'd chosen to harp on. She tried to keep the you're-being-a-pain-in-the-ass tone out of her voice.
"It is a big deal, Em," he tried in a convincing tone. "This is what always happens whenever we bring anyone new to the cabin. We invite people for a "fun filled time" with our families and it takes them about five minutes to look around and figure out that neither of us have much in regards to actual relatives. It just seems a little misleading to call it a 'family retreat'. You need to talk to him."
"Yeah, I get it, Dave," Emma sighed, switching her phone to the other ear as she continued to throw things into her suitcase. "Then we spend the next hour awkwardly explaining the absence of Mr. Nolan plus the Swans and then the rest of the weekend we're drenched in sympathy. I don't want that any more than you do, but, ugh...it's just not a very fun conversation to start with people. I'd prefer to avoid it."
"Emma, you know you can't. I'm just saying you should get it out of the way before you have to do it with everyone else around."
Emma sighed heavily. David was right. He always was when it came to this sensitive subject. She waited out the pause on the other end of the line.
"You guys have been dating like a year," David said, more curious and kind this time. "He's never asked you?"
Their fake relationship had been going on much less than a year, but Emma let the question run through her mind anyway. No, he hadn't asked. Killian was a pretty intuitive person it seemed - she pondered the idea that he'd most likely wondered about Emma's family structure, but even if he truly had, he'd never mentioned it. She thought back to the knowledge she had gained about Killian's own relatives and wondered if don't-ask-don't-tell was a policy he typically followed.
As her mind searched for a way to turn her thoughts into a suitable response for David, the presence of a sleek, graphite blue truck rolled into view. Good hell. Was he kidding?
"Look, Dave, I gotta go..."
"Just think about it, Emma," he nearly pleaded. "I just...I want you to be happy."
"I know," she said, touched by the sincerity beaming from the other line. "I'll see you soon."
She had barely ended the call when the ignition of the truck that clearly belonged to the now spoiled, lucrative Killian Jones shut off and the driver's side door opened. It frustrated her to no end that he just couldn't have one car with an outlandish monthly payment like many others do, but of course, it wasn't like him to be part of the norm. Damn, this man was an insufferable piece of work.
She knew she should just grab her things and go outside. Coming to the door to get her and him highly likely trying to carry her bags seemed like such a boyfriend thing...but she figured that she could implement this "dating" act slightly early if it would give her a little extra time to see what - or in this case who - she was dealing with.
He was dressed like a true modern wilderness man in most endearing way - faded blue and white flannel, fitted well worn jeans, and one of those hooded winter vests that strangely enough looked perhaps a little attractive. Emma chided herself for even going there. She silently wondered where the quick witted, teasing version of herself had gone.
"Swan," he said with a heart stopping smile as Emma opened the door. "Ready to brave the great outdoors?"
"Well, apparently you are," she grinned, gesturing to his clothes and then to his truck. "Pulling out all the stops for this one, huh?"
"Uh, well," he smirked as he scratched behind his ear. "Figured I'd leave my fancy clothes at home and come prepared - vehicular speaking."
She rolled her eyes at his nonchalance and he mimicked her as he reached for her bag. Their hands brushed lightly and Emma drew hers back quickly at the fiery feeling on her skin. He noticed her nervous twitch and he pursed his lips flirtatiously. They started down the steps and Emma wracked her brain for a snarky comment in an attempt to balance things out.
"I wouldn't have ever thought you'd pick blue. I was under the impression that Killian Jones was 'dark and dangerous' - a mysterious man of mystery."
"I'm guessing you were expecting...black? Assuming you'd like it to match the estimated color of my soul?"
"Well, I wasn't expecting anything because I wasn't expecting another vehicle," she said with a feigned annoyance. "Most teachers that I know don't own a fleet of recently manufactured vehicles - no matter how youthful and single they are. Roland isn't even here for you to impress."
"Ah no, but you are - and he will be at the cabin later," Killian retorted casually. "Best to come prepared."
She smacked him with her jacket as she climbed into the front seat. New car smell. So awfully fantastic.
"Ready, Emma?"
Her heart always flip-flopped when he used her first name. His excited eyes reminded her of the book she'd tucked into her bag. Her mind drifted back to the conversation she'd had with David. She hoped Killian wouldn't regret that enthusiastic gaze in the foreseeable future.
"As I'll ever be."
Emma really wasn't sure why they had always called it a cabin. It was more of a harbor side vacation style home, but it was located up on the rocks which made for a killer waterfront view. She was in the process of explaining all of this to her overly curious companion when they stopped to top off the gas tank before heading out to the bay. As the pump started, Killian took it upon his arrogant self to clean the windshield with a seductive smirk. Helpless against his tormenting eyes, she chuckled in defeat and buried her face in her new book to avoid any further challenge from him.
"Well, well," he said, quite surprised but pleased. "Looks who has accepted the task of altering their literary mind. The absence of stubbornness looks lovely on you, Swan."
"Oh hell, those are the kinds of condescending comments I get to look forward to?"
"My lips are sealed, love," he winked, starting the truck and adjusting his seatbelt. "At least about that."
Emma tried to ignore his cockiness, but she felt a small smile cross her lips anyway. He pulled the truck back onto the main road that would lead them right into the weekend within an half an hour or so. Killian seemed to radiate that familiar, slow burning fire and Emma struggled to focus as she read the same line about six times in a row.
"Read me something, Swan."
She raised an eyebrow at him and he didn't hesitate to mirror her taunt. She bit her lip as she thumbed through a few pages. She'd actually started it the night before, but he didn't need to know that.
"Okay, let's see," she agreed, hoping it may distract her from the building tension in the vehicle. "Give me a second..."
There were many little quips in the story she'd already read and actually liked, but she'd quickly caught onto the theme of the classic book. She only hoped Killian hadn't - she liked to hope he had only seen the name, the author, and the complimentary coincidence when he'd purchased it. As her eyes scanned, she stumbled over the line "I may have lost my heart but not my self control" and she laughed inwardly and ironically. Flipping to the next page, she found a lengthy paragraph that she hadn't seen before and figured that the more text she read, the less she'd have to allow him to agitate her.
"Okay, Jones, here's one - 'I cannot make speeches, Emma. If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am. You hear nothing but truth from me. I have blamed you, lectured you, and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it. Bear with the truths I would tell you now, dearest Emma. God knows, I have been an indifferent lover. But you understand me. Yes, you see, you understand my feelings and will return them if you can. At present, I ask only to hear, once to hear your voice.'"
God dammit. She was truly talented at walking herself right into these types of situations. It was those unexpected words from Jane Austen's protagonist Mr. Knightley that drew a slight, humming laugh from Killian. Emma eyed the clock, eagerly counting the minutes until the truck would stop and she could jump off the nearest seaside cliff. Jane Austen was not helping her case. Not at all.
"Emma!"
Roland came bounding up the steps of the cabin's front porch, once again thrilled to see his new friend. Killian was inside, but promptly presented himself when he heard Robin's truck pull up. Roland had his little arms wrapped around Emma in a happy hug and she had to keep herself from cracking up at the put off, perhaps even a bit jealous pout on Killian's face.
"Ms. Swan," Robin said kindly. "Thank you so much for the invite. It was pretty idealistic to anticipate this weekend in the woods - although I hope you won't be disappointed when I don't express my gratitude in the same way Roland has."
"Your 'thank you' is perfectly sufficient," she laughed, glancing down to Roland at her side. "It's actually a pleasure to have you both."
"Emma, you don't live here, do you?"
Roland looked perplexed by the size of the large, classic structure of the house. Emma had seen that look a few times on the face of visitors to their getaway location. The house was truly beautiful. David had spent a lot of time updating things with some mutual family funds and the shared ownership of the place helped it stay in working condition. Her cousin had worked the past few summers modernizing the inside of the house - new light fixtures, appliances, countertops and such - but he'd left the integrity of the home's original plan intact. Emma was always very fond of the hardwood, smooth deck and the weather wood siding - something Killian didn't hesitate to comment on the moment they'd arrived. She recalled the way the bay windows would provide a welcome light once it darkened and the view from the rocks at the edge of the grass. After a while, you could set your watch by the sound of the calm waves rolling up on the nearby shore. It was home - the only home that Emma knew outside of Storybrooke.
"No, Roland," Emma smiled. "I just come to visit sometimes. I'm glad you get to be here this time."
"Me too," he replied with that goofy grin. "I like to be by the water and...that's a lot of water."
Emma mused at his fascination with the location and Killian, finally having enough of being ignored by his little friend, moved forward to lift Roland up for some well planned tickle torture. The little boy roared with laughter and Killian seemed satisfied with the response, a toothy grin escaping him.
"Hey Emma. Mom and David say we should get some firewood before it gets dark. So...Killian? Want to come with me?"
The voice belonged to Henry, Regina's only son. He had recently turned thirteen and though he was aging, Emma still maintained a heartfelt relationship with him. He had always wanted to spend time with her and the two had bonded over books from the second he could read. Apparently, in the minimal time since they'd actually landed at the cabin, Killian and Henry had become thick as thieves.
"Sure, kid," Killian nodded with flattery. "Can we drag this little guy along?"
"I don't see why not," Henry laughed at the still very cheeky Roland. "I'm Henry. You must be Roland."
"Yep," Roland replied, mimicking his father's words. "A real pleasure to meet you."
Henry ran in to grab a jacket while Robin chased a fascinated Roland to the rocks that somewhat hid the view of the harbor. Emma heard them chatting idly about sailboats as Roland pointed to the water, asking a million questions a minute. Emma found herself with her feet planted on the deck, staring at a truly elated Killian.
"See," she began, a half smile on her lips. "Not so bad."
"Not at all, Swan," he said sweetly as he shook his head. "It's-they're great. It's all great. Thank you...I mean, for bringing me."
"I feel like I should be saying the same to you for being here."
"A real pleasure," Killian replied, copying Roland's friendly words from before. "I'll be back."
Emma had expected him to hurry down the steps with Henry momentarily following him, but once again, he didn't do as she had anticipated. It took her a moment to realize the feel of his hands on her hips and the subtle way his lips caressed hers. It wasn't heated as it had been in the past, but more comforting and caring. She felt herself leaning in and raising a hand to the back of his neck. Before the kiss even began to deepen, she pulled back. Why had he kissed her? Then she remembered it was part of the act, especially since now there were a variety of others around. She tried to remember this conclusion as his eyes settled on her. The light blue affection seemed to be fiercely questioning that resolve.
"Okay," Henry said, reappearing on the deck. "Let's go."
Killian smiled a soft, subtle expression at her. Emma found herself still fighting for words, her mouth slightly agape.
"See you soon, love."
As Killian and Henry snatched Roland away from his father, Robin began walking back toward the deck. Emma found it strange that he'd stayed behind, but when she saw him breathe a sigh, she realized the break from full time dad for a moment was probably something he was happy for.
"I guess I better get things unloaded."
"Want some help?"
"Sure," he said, oddly thankful. "I'll probably need your direction on where to drop things anyway."
Emma hardly recognized the man she followed. She'd been so used to Killian and Robin being these thorns in her side for as long as they'd taught at the junior high. The two men that had evolved in Emma's mind were quite the surprise. She couldn't help but wonder what else would blindside her during the remainder of the weekend.
"Emma? Can I ask you something?"
They'd figured out which room Robin was going to inhabit with his son and Emma was trying to make sure they had enough of everything - pillows, blankets, towels.
"Umm, sure."
"I don't want to seem bold and it's probably not much of my business," he began, crossing his arms on his chest and leaning against the windowsill. "But what are you and Killian doing?"
"What do you mean?"
"He told me a bit about this arrangement - how you wanted him to help distract your family from your real relationship status during the course of these wedding events," Robin explained. "But I have to wonder what you are both really up to."
"I don't know what you mean I guess," Emma said, shaking her head. "It's just...business as usual - playing pretend, if you will."
"Emma, I've known Killian a long time," Robin said, his eyes focusing on her. "Let me be the first to tell you that he's not pretending anything."
Emma didn't know how to reply to that so she froze and gave him a slightly earnest look. He seemed to be searching for the right words - the ones that would keep him from overstepping any boundaries.
"Just...just be careful," Robin finally settled. "He's just...Killian is just not-"
"As tough as he acts?"
Robin gave her confirmation in the form of a half smile. Emma wasn't sure how she knew what he was going to say, but she did - and she knew it was true the moment the words left her mouth.
"I know we've been less than pleasant to deal with in the past," Robin said guiltily with a crooked smile. "But he's a good man."
Emma didn't need Robin to tell her that - she'd figured it out over the past couple of weeks.
"I'm starting to see that."
"Good," he said with a friendly nod. "I'm glad we can agree on something."
Emma had to chuckle at the way the dynamic of her relationship with these two colleagues had changed so quickly.
"Well, since we've agreed to agree for once," Emma said, folding a final blanket. "There's someone I want to introduce you to."
"Ah, should have known," he laughed. "It seems fitting that you two would plan some sting operation on my behalf. Lead the way?"
When had she become Killian's partner in crime? Emma furrowed her eyebrows at the thought that somewhere along the way, she began working with him instead of against him. The real surprise, she found, was how much she actually liked being on his side.
Dinner had been a happy mess of conversation between the congregation of visitors who'd found themselves at the cabin. Besides the expected couple to wed and Emma plus her guests, the room included Regina and Henry as well as Ruby and her boyfriend, Victor. David's mother, Ruth, had also joined them, but she would leave after dinner as she usually did - she wasn't one to linger. Jefferson and his daughter, Grace, would be coming in from Boston in the morning.
Emma had been honestly quite thrilled at how well Robin seemed to be getting along with Regina. She hadn't seen Regina so easy going or just generally happy, well, ever. Roland and Henry were immediate friends - something Emma was glad for. It seemed right for them to have each other in such a strange almost brother-y way. Chat of the wedding seemed to fill the Nolan corner of the table and Emma nearly burst out laughing at the exasperated, exhausted expression on David's face.
"See, Swan," Killian whispered, sliding his arm across the back of her chair. "Not so bad."
She smirked at the way he copied her earlier words. It really wasn't - she wondered if that was something she could attribute largely to his presence.
"The night is young," she winked. "But so far, so good."
He sighed cheerfully, clearly aware of his success. Emma leaned back in her chair to absorb the atmosphere and within a few minutes, Killian's sneaky grip moved around her, his thumb stroking her shoulder. She peered at him from the corner of her eye and waited for the wink - but it didn't come. Instead, she received one of those genuine Killian Jones smiles. She wasn't sure how many more of those she was going to be able to handle.
Things died down quite a bit by the time dinner was cleared. Roland and Henry had set up a movie marathon in the room David had converted into a theater of sorts a few years back. Robin and Regina had, of course, opted to join them and Emma made a mental note to follow up on that later. David and Mary Margaret had gone for a walk down by the water just after Ruth left and Emma assumed Ruby and Victor had gone upstairs to do something hopefully civilized and contained.
She found herself strolling about the house, picking up odds and ends - a pillow here, someone's shoes there. Teacher mode took over most often on these trips and she found herself tidying up even when it wasn't necessary. She was about to head up the stairs, curious where Killian had ended up, when she heard the smooth sound of guitar strings coming from the porch.
He didn't spot her immediately so she watched him in this interesting state of solitude. He sat in one of the rocking chairs Emma's grandfather had made years ago with her brother's old guitar on his lap. He looked focused as he fiddled with tuning pegs, strumming here and there as the sound shifted up and down. It was peaceful to see him like this - no act to put on and no innuendo to toss out. He was completely unguarded. Emma couldn't resist the chance of finding out what she could do with that.
"I don't think anyone has played that thing in years."
His head lifted up in surprise - perhaps he hadn't seen her there at all - and he grinned sheepishly. She strolled over to the neighboring chair.
"It doesn't sound that way," he said honestly as he looked to her for approval. "I didn't mean to meddle. Dave just said-"
"It's fine," she assured him with a grin. "Neal doesn't make it here often. In fact, he works so much now that I don't imagine he even plays music at all anymore."
Yes, it wasn't lost on her that the one real relationship she'd had in her life shared a name with her little brother. Let's hear it for terrible coincidences.
"Neal is your..."
"Brother. He's my little brother," she replied. "I haven't seen him for quite a while."
"You have a brother."
He said it more as a statement than anything else. Family wasn't an easy thing for either of them to talk about and Emma's mind traveled back to David's earlier request. This would probably be the best chance she'd get.
"You don't ask many questions about such things, do you?"
"Don't want to pry, Swan," he said after a moment. "We all have our brokenness. I figure you'll tell me whatever you'd like me to know."
"But if I gave you a chance to ask," she began cautiously. "What would you want to know?"
His hands stilled and he eyes her suspiciously. She felt her breath catch in her throat at the way she'd just opened a whole floor for him to interrogate her. He pursed his lips, searching her eyes for something.
"Where are they?"
"My parents?"
She was long familiar with that inquiry - so much so that she knew exactly who the mysterious "they" referred to. He didn't reply, but she caught his subtle nod and attentive gaze.
"They're - gone. Have been for a long time."
He wasn't going to press the issue. He would have accepted it if that's all she had to say. Emma steadied her mind and her breathing so she could continue. If anyone would get it - the feeling of being lost - it would be him.
"My parents were big business executives and they traveled for work constantly. I all but grew up with David at his mom's house. They were rarely around and when they were, it was like we were strangers. I guess I hoped that might change one day," she narrated. "When I was right around Henry's age, they were on their way home from New York during a sudden blizzard. Multiple car pile up. They didn't make it back."
At this point, Killian had his back pressed against the chair while his understanding eyes seem to perforate Emma straight through to the heart. She paused, anticipating that apology that had so often followed that story. After a moment, he leaned forward, finding her hand and dragging his fingers through hers before grasping it with a warm touch.
"Tragedy isn't a fun mask to wear, love," he said thoughtfully. "I'm sorry you've had to learn to do it so well."
She'd heard a million different forms of sorry in her life, but that wasn't one of them.
"I could say likewise."
"Ah," he said softly, an ironic grin building on his face. "I wish I could say we have something far more pleasant than this in common, love."
"Perhaps we do."
"Yeah," he sighed profoundly after a brief pause. "Perhaps we do."
Though it didn't feel like he was offering up his helpless sympathy, he did have quite the set of concerned eyes. Emma was very well versed in getting those looks from people. She had also gotten very good at avoiding them. She felt herself shutting down, raising one wall up at a time. Her hand suddenly felt like it was on fire as the interlocking of their fingers became uncomfortable. She went to pull it away from him, but he immediately reached his other hand out to grasp her free one. She felt herself reeling, desperately trying to gain some space and composure. She was going to run. She needed to run.
Killian stopped her - without actually stopping her. He straightened up, stroking her hands softly with his thumbs. She couldn't bring herself to look at the gaze that seemed to be drilling into her.
"Emma."
Something was happening. No, no. She wasn't going to cry. She'd moved past that. She wasn't broken - not anymore. Sure, she'd been left alone, but she had survived. Her life had always been a game of survival. She didn't need anyone to side with her. She was fine. She tried to reassure herself as a tear rolled down her cheek and she held in her shaky breath.
"Emma."
This time when she tried to tilt her head further away, he gently caught the side of her face with a loving hand. She fell right into his vision, completely vulnerable and completely emotional. In a gesture she never expected, he reached up and smoothed the solitary tear away. The half smile that followed said more than he could ever vocalize - so he didn't.
"Emma?"
She paused to gather her wits once again, trying not to break down while trying not to look too grateful for what he was doing. She wondered briefly who had done that for him in his moments of weakness - if he'd had any. Of course he had.
"Hmm?"
"Do you want to go make hot chocolate with me and bash on some famous writers for a bit?"
She sighed, amazed at how simple it was for him to change the entire mood of the world surrounding him. He had those hopeful eyes - the ones she'd fallen for more than a few times. It was interesting that this time she didn't really need convincing.
"Yes. Yes, I do."
He'd proven to be something of a boy scout, starting a flame in the fireplace with little effort. Finding the biggest, fluffiest quilt he could see in the room, he drew Emma into his arms once before draping it over her as they lay on the couch. He nestled into the corner, sitting in a relaxed manner as he plopped a pillow onto his lap. He grinned at her, inviting her to come closer. She wasn't going to fight him - not tonight - so she made herself horizontal and he drew an arm around her to pull her close. Killian lit a whole other fire by bringing up Mark Twain, a man whose work Emma didn't admire in the least. He laughed at her passionate rant while he toyed with her hair in a moment that Emma soon found to be the perfect distraction. She remembered growing more and more wordless. She remembered getting more and more sleepy.
Yet when she woke up, Emma could not recall in the slightest how she'd managed to make it upstairs to the - their bed. She was alone, the bedside clock reading only 8:37 in the morning. She soon heard Roland's little voice downstairs and realized that Killian was highly likely to be on the receiving end of that voice. She stared at the ceiling for a moment, trying to debrief the unexpected emotions she'd encountered only hours ago. She didn't like that the conversation had evolved the way it did, but at the same time, she didn't regret telling him. He'd divulged more than that to her. It was only fair that she do the same - that she let him in a little more. She didn't know why, but she wasn't worried. She admired the way he'd respected her demons and she knew that he understood the potential meltdown she'd had more than most others would. He wouldn't judge her - he never had.
Rolling over to face the nightstand, she noticed it - the hot, steaming red mug of coffee with a note off to the side.
Never tell the truth to those who are not worthy of it. -Mark Twain
Thank you for your honesty, love. I look forward to finding out that we do indeed have even more in common than heartache. Don't sleep too late. -Killian
Although he seemed to take another instance to smack her with the words of another writer she didn't prefer, Emma felt a weight lift from her shoulders as a simple smile took over her mouth. It was time to navigate the next step in the maze that resembled her relationship with Killian Jones.