Killian: We need to talk.
It was the last message sent before he started to go search for her. The first place he checks is the station, but that comes up quite empty and as a failure. The second is her apartment, and if she's there, she's not answering. The last place he goes to is the docks, and undoubtedly somehow, he feels like she'll be there.
And she is there, sitting on the bench with her eyes closed, her head tilted back towards the sky.
"Hey," he calls out, walking toward her.
She opens her eyes and brings her head back down. He notices the air turn white, telling him she sighed or huffed out some frustration breath. "Hey," she simply responds, staring blankly at him.
He doesn't know why, but something drops in the pit of his stomach. Whatever chasm has formed between them formed far too fast, and the empty distance between the two of them produces an odd sense of tension. "Did you get my message?" he bluntly asks, rubbing a spot on the back of his neck, his hand falling into the cold the moment he retracts it from his neck.
"Yep." She shrugs, shaking her head as if she's out of hope.
"I see you've started visiting the docks quite more frequently for your thinking sessions." It's not much of any sort of teasing, but it is a considerate observation.
"I think you're rubbing off on me," she mutters, yawning. "And your brother too. He's got a big mouth for sailing and the open sea."
"He does own a company."
"That he does." She stuffs her hands into her jacket. "So you wanted to talk?"
"Aye."
"About our…"
"Argument, yes," he blatantly states, finishing off her phrase. "May I… sit?"
She nods, a tiny little smile appearing on her face. "Yeah, go ahead."
"I know you're not particularly fond of these types of conversations, but I just want to say I'm not sorry for what I promptly told you that day," he begins, noticing her face drop, "because I'm only looking out for you. Dearly - with all my heart, love." Although the smile on her lips is nearly indiscernible from the rest of the anxiety, he still notices it. "I don't explicitly want to say anything just yet, but it's driving me absolutely mad inside - and Ruby too - with the way we're acting around each other."
She purses her lips and nods. Emma doesn't respond with anything, so it gives him the incentive to continue.
"Perhaps I'm pulling a Dave move, but… I feel the need to protect you from things. I've been through plenty, and with the addition of the knowledge of your past…" he trails off, shaking his head at the remembrance of her bitter pain. "I feel responsible somehow."
"Yeah? Well, I guess the same goes for me because I feel responsible for you too," she begins, stretching her legs out. "I guess it's on impulse that I worry for you… especially after the… accident. But when people try to make decisions for me, try to do something for me without even asking me, or if they begin lying, that's where I lose it. You know why?"
He feels as if he knows the answer, but she begins speaking before he can input his thoughts.
"I've been let down all my life. Lied to, given false hope, played, you name it. So for once, I just wanted someone to trust my instinct, to believe in me, to tell me the truth, instead of shying away from it. I want to be in control in my life, to stand up and punch back instead of being the one to take the hit willingly." She pauses momentarily, staring at the ground. "When you were lying, it sparked something inside of me - something big, as if it had finally snapped the bridge between us. I don't… I don't know what it was, but it started to break the trust I had with you because even my best friend, my partner, started lying to me - like it was a nightmare or something.
"I didn't want it to start breaking though, believe me that's the last thing I want out of us. Being concerned about you… is like motherly instincts if you get what I mean. Like-"
"My, are you saying you treat me as if I were your own son?" He smirks, raising his eyebrow along with it in curiosity.
"Woah, no!" she instantly retorts. Sighing, she leans back and looks up toward the sky. "It's hard for me, okay? Trusting, believing, caring… it's foreign sometimes. But… with you, it comes so easily and I don't know how, but I like it. It's weird, and I hope I don't sound like some dumb teenage girl, but I'm just saying that I care, and because of me caring and wanting to do something myself, I snapped at you." She shrugs. "I guess I'm at fault too. But I'm not apologizing for what I said either for your information."
"Well that certainly eases all the ache," he starts, "because I was beginning to think you'd never want to trust me again after that."
She laughs warmly, and for one second, that laugh takes away all the grieving he's done. But, the sadness in her eyes still remain, as if they've made their mark, made their living in her soul. Given his spare time, he did pick up a bit of reading, and if he remembers correctly, one simple quote comes to his attention at the moment.
Was it the infinite sadness of her eyes that drew him or the mirror of himself he found gorgeous clarity of her mind?
He gives props to himself for memorizing such a Fitzgerald line, but there's something familiar in the look of hers, some sort of reflection of himself. With some inexplicable feeling brewing inside of him, he leans forward where his elbows rest on his legs. "You may not trust me, but do believe in me when I say I will do everything I can to form our trust from the ashes again."
"There's nothing to form, Killian," she whispers, the sound of her voice drifting along with the brisk winds. "Trust is easily broken and that's true, but… I don't think ours is... yet. An argument like that doesn't break something we've slowly developed for nearly three years. I'm not waiting for the shoe to drop on that though, because I hope it never happens."
"Me neither," he concurs.
"Okay, I'm utter shit at these types of things, can we just have everything go back to normal? No more lying, stolen glances, avoiding each other… and the list goes on."
He smiles and nods in agreement, although he knows nothing will ever go back to normal. It was never normal in the first place. "Aye," he murmurs quietly, pushing himself onto his feet. Or maybe it was normal before the entire ruse they started putting up.
There's such an urge inside of him forcing him to tell her the attraction he holds - the liking he's taken to her of being more than friends. But there's no possible way for him to utter words like that to her, not after that argument. But she says no more secrets or lying, and this a big secret he's holding off. However, he has the right to, right? It's giving him more time to solidify his feelings if they really are that true toward her, and if this conversation and all previous acts haven't proved enough already, there's a tonne for him to get done around her.
If one gape in his heart can be filled by her, how many wounds can she patch up along with that? A longing answer awaits for him some day.
"Perhaps we should take it slow this time?" she asks, bringing him out of his thoughts. "You know… everything just went by pretty fast with everyone being here."
Although it feels like a hammer has smashed his heart, he smiles as convincingly as possible, nodding. "As you wish." He wishes only if their relationship were real.
New Years is just around the corner - well tomorrow night, and that means another massive celebrations with fireworks outside.
Killian: Come to the docks tomorrow for New Years.
He hesitates on hitting the send button, contemplating through all possible excuses he could be making before he finally presses his finger down, watching the message send.
Emma: Why?
Killian: I want to show you fireworks from a different angle.
Emma: Is it as breathtaking as you make it sound?
Killian: How would you know if you've never experienced it?
Emma: Damn it.
Killian: Come tomorrow.
Emma: Okay.
He grins and shuts his phone off, throwing it onto the bedside table before falling into a calm sleep.
Sometimes there's still a little bit of awkward tension between them, but after making up, most of it has dimmed down. Or it's him being completely paranoid - probably that.
Sometimes he really wants to touch her, make more physical contact casually, but he is unknown of his limits.
Sometimes he really wants to kiss her, but he knows that's just wrong.
His headache eases over the day, but he does feel a twinge of nervousness just because of his plans for the remainder of the night. Well, it's not really a plan at all. Just to take her out a bit to see the fireworks from afar, see them while being soothed by the swaying of the ocean waves.
Leaning against the mast of the old-styled ship, he breathes in the fresh scent of salt all the while remaining silent and unmoving. He remembers know. He remembers why he's always been so attracted to the ocean, to boats, to this sort of natural environment. He remembers why Liam and him started up the business in he first place. He remembers that his passion has never once left his heart, and that it's still there whenever he gets the time to remind himself about it.
He hears the creak of the floorboards, knowing that it's most likely Emma, but he doesn't bother turning around. There's also the sound of waves and crickets to accompany her heavy footsteps along the way. He asks her if she's ready, and she responds with a simple "Yes."
Killian guides the ship away from the pier for a bit, far yet close enough to catch sight of the fireworks without being completely dominated by the bother of town. He checks his watch, and there's still at least five minutes before the fireworks show begins. Exhaling a calming breath, he anchors the ship in place before returning back to Emma's side. He allows her to rest her cheek on his shoulder, even if it's an unexpected action of some intimacy anyways. They're friend. Best friends, partners - this is allowed, right? At least he tells himself it's perfectly acceptable.
The serenity of the night keeps them in a comfortable silence. It's safe to say this is the most relaxed night he's had in ages, the most simply happiest moment he's had within the last week. It's refreshing to be out of town - away from all the other people in his life. Emma's all he'll ever really need. Ever - even if he's not ready to confess his real feelings.
When the minutes pass and the lights start to illuminate the sky with firecrackers, the both tilt their heads up to watch the colours span over the darkness of the night sky. There are several colours, several explosion patterns as well. Simply put, it's beautiful -
"It's beautiful," she murmurs.
"Aye, but not as beautiful as…" he trails off, unsure of what to say - actually, it's more of should he say it or not.
She looks up at him with such an innocent face, yet compiled with the slightest bit of confusion. "As what?"
Killian sighs, closing his eyes as he whispers the words, "As you."
There's a few ticks of silence which is like making him deaf before she speaks up. "Killian?"
"Yes, love?"
"Did you mean that?"
She doubts that? This woman really needs a boost on her self-esteem. "I di - I do." He smiles down at her, drowning out the sounds of everything and focusing on the utter fascination her face.
His eyes flicker down to her lips for the slightest moment before back to her eyes, and there, right there she is emotional, vulnerable, true, and there's no better moment for him to find himself leaning in toward her. At first, they're merely touching foreheads, softly pressed against each other, both of them practically catching their own breath in the back of their throats because whatever he feels, she feels it too. And he gives her an out, if she wants to stop, she can stop it and he won't protest against what she wishes for because that would be the right thing to do.
But, she doesn't. Instead she advances, and his eyes slip closed when their lips meet in a soft manner. It's funny though because he feels his phone go off from the timer he set on when it's midnight, and maybe he should stop, maybe he shouldn't be doing this because it's only pushing himself more to her when he maybe shouldn't. All these maybes and shouldn'ts are popping through his brain, but this kiss is… more than just a kiss. It's a connection between the both of their broken souls, a promise of staying, a vow of protection and care.
It doesn't lose it's spark, it never seems to lose it's spark. Her lips always manage to make him want more out of her. It doesn't lose it's passionate touch either, even though it's a slow and emotionally heart-felt kiss. His hands rest at her hips as hers seem to stay around his torso.
Neither of them seem interested in pulling away, but he's the first one to stop, subsequently bumping his nose against hers gently. "Happy New Years, Swan."
She lightly laughs. "Happy New Years, Killian."
"I don't want to be the one to spoil the moment, but I may have brought some drinks for us."
He's the happiest man he's ever been since… ever. When they get back to land, she links her arm in between his and walks with him back to the diner where everyone else is gathered at. Robin nudges his shoulder as he passes by and smiles, Will is all too caught up talking with Belle, and David and Mary Margaret are talking with Ruby, Liam, and Elsa.
"And where were you two when the clock hit midnight?"
"On a ship," Killian responds, "spectating the fireworks from a different perspective.."
"Did you kiss?"
"Ruby!" Elsa hisses. "That's none of our business."
Killian laughs, shaking his head. "Perhaps," is the simple answer he provides, grinning at Emma when they make eye contact.
"Oh, they totally kissed," Ruby murmurs.
Deciding it's time for him to toy around with her, he smirks and asks, "And what of you and… Whale, lass?"
"Look, we're an on and off thing. He pisses me off sometimes with the way he tries to flirt with me, but then there are times where he's not humiliating himself and I don't mind," Ruby explains shamelessly, shrugging. "Honestly, he's probably being a loner in his office at the hospital right now, and I don't feel sorry at all for him."
He laughs, remembering the way Victor couldn't pick up girls back in college. "Of course. He was never the best when it came with women."
"Thanks for telling me that now," Ruby mutters, seeing Granny wave at her to go over. "I'll see you two later."
Killian smiles and nods, thankful that Ruby had really given him enough motivation to go discuss things with Emma. The same applies with David, but he already knows how thankful Killian is for the way he sticks up around for him.
"So," Liam starts, "I was thinking about something."
"What's that?" Emma asks.
"Bringing the company over here."
"What?"
"Business back in England hasn't been as well as we've wanted it to be, but since it seems like Storybrooke is the spot for tourism during the right seasons, why not? Besides, we've got enough money to transport most things over here, though it might take a bit of time." Liam's smiling the entire time he's talking. "And in addition, you are all wonderful people that I'd love to get to be around more often. Build a better life here with my wife, my yet-to-be-born child, my brother, and friends."
Killian finds himself speechless, utterly both in joy and wonder about his brother's consideration. "Liam, are you…?"
"I was considering it far before visiting here, but I must say actually breathing in the air here has solidified my choice. Elsa and I have both considered it already, being near you again because we've missed you." Liam sighs and shoves his hands in his pockets. "You'll be needing to see your niece or nephew, and being halfway across the world doesn't really contribute to that."
"That's… a big change, mate. Are you positive about moving everything here to Storybrooke?" Killian questions. She feels Emma's arm tighten around his, but he disregards it. "You shouldn't feel obligated about moving here on my account."
"It's not just on your account. We feel it's the best for us, right, Elsa?"
"Yeah. Storybrooke seems like a good place to… start fresh, I suppose," Elsa says herself.
"Welcome to Storybrooke." Killian grins.
It's going to be a great year, he knows it. Everything is going in a good direction, finally. Perhaps not the way he envisioned it, but it's going good.
"So, you're happy about Liam and Elsa moving here?" Emma asks.
"Shouldn't I be?"
"You should," she simply responds. "Family, right?"
The word strikes his heart and mind when he remembers that she's never had family, one to believe and trust in. He sighs, and tightens his grip around her waist. "My family is yours too," he murmurs, turning his head and pressing his lips into her silky hair. "Everyone here cares for you, Swan. Including me, my brother, and Elsa."
"Why?" she asks aloud, a tilt of loss and confusion in her voice. Turning to face him, there is a wonder of both curiosity and vulnerability in her current olive green eyes. "What do you people find in me?" Her fingers curl at the hair on his neck, the warmth seeping through his own skin there.
"There's never one answer to this question you ask of me," he murmurs, his eyes staring deeply into hers. When he blinks, there's a sense that it's all a dream, that she is not real, that everything they've done together has just been an ethereal sense of heaven.
She lets out a small breath, it tingling against his skin. "Then tell me the one you think applies best."
"You're... you."
"And what does that mean, Jones?"
"It means you're no one else but yourself of course," he claims broadly. "No one can compare to you, no one can be you besides yourself. Because you describes everything from your smile to your laugh. Because you describes everything from your pain to your happiness. Because you describes everything from your past to your future. Because you describes everything now."
A smile curls at her lips and she sighs, nodding. "You're… sweet."
"When I want to be of course." He winks and yawns, running his fingers through her lovely golden curls. When she slips her leg in between his and lets his her head rest against his chest, he whispers, "Good night, Swan," in a hushed tone, watching her drift to sleep.
It's the first night she's spent with him in bed now, the first… technically official night together of course. Or morning if it's seen that way.
In the morning, he expects her to be gone (on reflex considering she always runs when things are too-good-to-be-true), but she's still wrapped up in his arms under the cocoon of blankets from the chill running through his apartment since the heat is not turned up high enough.
Groggily blinking and glancing over her shoulder, it's still six in the morning, a little too early to be up on a Sunday morning, but who's to complain when he has a beautiful lady who he likes in his bed? Definitely not him of course.
She buries herself deeper into his hold, making him smile like an unbelievable idiot. He's yet to tell her he wants this - early mornings with lazy smiles and small kisses, late nights of climbing into day after an exhausting day at work, casually watching Netflix but barely paying attention while his eyes are focused completely on her head on his lap. Everything to that point is what he wants with Emma Swan, but he knows well enough that he needs to take it slow, or follow the pace she wants to set for this new blossomed relationship.
Perhaps he'll have a more dedicated conversation about their relationship soon, today, tomorrow, in the near future… as long as he can discuss the terms with her. As much as he wants this, he needs to know that she feels the same, that she's willing to do whatever it takes to make it work, even if they'll fight and argue, even if they'll disagree on some things, even if they'll have to debate and contemplate on all possible choices.
By the time he's done thinking in his sleep, it's eight now and they're both up but not wanting to get out of the comfort of the bed. She groans and rubs her eyes, blinking from the sunlight. He's rubbing his face and stretching his legs out.
"Does David need us today? Because, I don't want to get out of this bed anymore," she mutters, rolling onto her face and sighing.
He laughs. "As much as I'd love to spend time wrapped up in my bed with you in my arms, I think there are still things we must tend to around town."
"I'm sure no one will notice."
"Everyone will bloody notice, Swan! We're practically famous," he exclaims, tugging on her arms and pulling her into him. "What are your thoughts on pancakes?"
"They're good, why?"
"Then I'm going to go make us pancakes."
"You cook?"
He nods, inhaling the scent of her, trying to memorize every single thing about her. "Indeed, I do. To think that you'd have known that by now considering the amount of time we've spent together within three years."
"Sorry, let's just say I wasn't so thoughtful about any of that or your skills besides being a law enforcer back then," she says casually, practically gleaming a look of carelessness. "Anyways, how about you go do that, and I'll lay here for a bit longer?"
"As you wish," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Don't sleep for too long otherwise I'll consume all the food myself."
