Author's note: You'll be pleased to know that this is NOT the end. Not quite yet. So yay! Enjoy this one; it was fun to write! BTW, I'm not an expert on marriage and immigration, so I hope any inaccuracies will be forgiven. It's fiction, folks!
Disclaimer: Nope.
Chapter 14
They were supposed to be watching TV.
After their talk with Archie, there wasn't much else they could do but wait. It had only been a couple of days. So they made the best of it, settling into the tiny flat, occasionally doing something other stay in bed. But whatever they did, they were never far out of reach. The pain of separation was still a bit too raw.
Emma leaned into the back of the couch, her legs thrown across Killian's lap. An old episode of Doctor Who was on, but Emma wasn't really paying attention. She found Killian's profile much more interesting. And the way his hands lightly rested across her shins. His thumbs brushed her skin almost absently, as if trying to remind himself that she really was here with him.
They hadn't talked much about the time apart, but she had noticed the red rims around his eyes when he found her on his doorstep. She didn't mention it though; he wouldn't want her to know he'd been crying. But it was a reminder that she'd been missed, just as fiercely as she'd missed him.
Now his eyes were bright and warm and happy. They crinkled adorably when he laughed. They sparked with mischief when he told a particularly dirty joke. And they drank her in when he thought she couldn't see.
"Alright there, Swan?" he asked, rubbing her ankle.
"Yep."
"So if I asked you what the difference was between the Daleks and the Cybermen, would you know?"
Emma grinned. "Nope. Not a clue."
"And what had you so fascinated that you missed the show?" he asked, a brow raised.
She shrugged. "Nothing."
Killian snorted in disbelief and abruptly hauled her into his lap, making the shirt she was wearing (another of his) ride up. Emma screeched in surprise, giggles tumbling from her lips. "Killian!"
"What? You weren't watching the telly anyway." His eyes drifted over her, hands following and she shivered. "So what were you watching, my love?"
Emma adjusted her seat, straddling his hips. "Maybe I was resting my eyes."
Killian slid his hands up her bare thighs and hips, under the tails of the shirt. "I think you're lying, Swan."
"You think you're so irresistible," she groused. The fact was that he was, and always had been.
"Says the lass who's been staring for the past hour or so." He brushed his fingers over her stomach. "It's okay, darling, it can be our secret."
Emma let out a shaky breath, warmth spreading wherever he touched her. "Keep dreaming, buddy."
He grinned. "I do. Frequently."
"Bastard." She rose up a bit, pretending to get away from his wandering hands.
"Still want to marry me?"
Her eyes turned soft. "Of course I do." She leaned down and kissed him lightly on the lips, arms coming around his neck. "I love you, remember?"
His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her closer. "Aye." He kissed her again, harder, more insistent. Emma sighed into it, cupping his cheeks, his day old beard scratching her palms. It didn't matter how often they did this, each time felt new. He tasted faintly of coffee and syrup from their breakfast that morning as she stroked his tongue with hers. She moaned softly as he slowly unbuttoned her shirt, stroking her pale skin. His lips trailed down her neck, beard scratching, and Emma leaned back, arching into his touch.
"Oh yes," she breathed as he palmed her breast, bringing the already taut peak to his lips. He suckled her greedily, sending waves of heat down her spine.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Oh bollocks," Killian cursed. They weren't expecting anyone. What the hell?
"Emma? Killian?" Emma's eyes widened in horror. It was her mother. Oh shit. "You in there?"
"I still think we should'ta called first," they heard Will grouse. "Who knows what they're up to!"
Emma exchanged a look with Killian. "Answer the woman, love."
"We're here!" she yelled toward the door. "Just...give us a sec!" Good lord, the last thing they needed was her parents catching them half naked on the couch.
Will's laugh made her cringe. They had been doing what he'd thought they were doing, or starting to. "I've got change," Emma whispered hurriedly, scrambling off Killian's lap. She looked down. "And I think you do too." There was a damp spot on his boxers, since Emma hadn't been wearing underwear.
"Bloody hell." Killian followed her—awkwardly—to the bedroom, where they both rifled through their clothes, trying to dress as quickly as possible. Emma threw on a t-shirt and jean shorts—she didn't really have time for undergarments, she would just pray no one noticed—and left Killian to finish sorting himself out.
With the mood effectively shattered beyond recognition, it shouldn't be hard. Oops. Stop that, Emma.
She took a deep breath to calm her breathing, thankful that the shirt covered the worst of the whisker burn. She found her parents, Will and Elsa on the other side, looking slightly disapproving but happy. Well, her parents at any rate. Will just looked smug and Elsa smiled knowingly. They were already well aware of Emma and Killian's lack of self control.
Honestly, was it her fault she'd fallen for the hottest guy on the planet? Who also happened to be smart and sweet and thought she was the greatest thing since sliced bread?
Yeah, she didn't think so either.
"Hi!" she said brightly, her cheeks slightly pink from almost getting caught. "We, uh, didn't know you were coming."
"Poor choice of words, lass," Will said helpfully.
Elsa elbowed him in the ribs. "Will!" she hissed.
Her parents ignored him. "Emma, did you really think you could get married without us," her mother chided. "Honestly."
She hadn't really thought about that. She didn't want a big production or anything. "Come on in," she said, stepping back from the door. The flat was mostly clean, since they'd spent the majority of their time in the bedroom. And Emma sure as hell wasn't letting her parents in there.
"Nice place," Will said. "Bit small though."
Killian emerged from the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him. "Wasn't expecting to share it, mate," he countered. He crossed the room and they hugged, manly claps on the back. Emma and Elsa shared a smile. "What are you doing here?"
"The wedding, o'course," Will snapped. "Didn't fly three thousand miles for the weather, you daft fool."
Killian looked around. "You came all this way for that?"
"Need a best man, don'tcha?"
"Will..." Emma knew Killian had been thinking much the same as her, get the paperwork, go to the justice of the peace or whatever they used here and get it done. Although they would need witnesses, Archie had told them that much.
But it meant a lot that their family and friends wanted to be there.
"Thanks, guys," Emma cut in, looking around. "We just want some thing small, but of course, you can come."
Mary Margaret looked a little disappointed. "Small?"
"Well, yeah. We want to go home, Mom. As soon as possible."
"If you're sure that's what you want..."
Killian came to stand next to Emma, his arm around her waist. "We've got a life waiting for us, Mrs. Nolan," he said firmly. "Less time spent here the better."
"Let them do this their own way," her dad said, speaking at last. "They've earned that."
Mary Margaret blinked rapidly. "Yes, yes, you're right. What do you need us to do?"
Emma shrugged, glancing at Killian. "We've just been waiting for Archie to call. I don't think there's anything else we can do."
"Do you have a dress?"
Emma frowned. "A dress? Well, no, but..."
"Emma," her mother said, looking as stern as Emma had ever seen her. "You need a dress. Maybe not something formal, but something nice. You're only going to get married once."
Emma bit her lip. She'd never been one of those girls who dreamed about her wedding when she was little. And she already had her prince, what else did she need?
"I wouldn't mind having you in a nice pretty dress," Killian whispered in her ear.
Emma suppressed a shiver, knowing exactly what he meant. "I don't know..." Her mother's eyes were pleading and Emma could feel her resolve crumbling. "Okay. But nothing over the top. Just a nice simple dress."
"And Killian should have a suit," Mary Margaret said, turning to her husband. Emma knew that look. It was the look of the General, who could plan social events in her sleep.
Killian rubbed her back. "Would it be so bad, Swan? To give her this tiny thing?" he said softly. "As long as you're there, it doesn't matter to me. But I rather fancy the idea of celebrating with family."
Emma's heart broke just a tiny bit for him. Unless you counted Will, Killian wouldn't have any family at their wedding. Her family was effectively becoming his. She reached up and cupped his cheek, thumbing the scar. "Yeah, I do too."
He smiled that boyish grin and kissed her, even though said family was right there.
"Alright, alright," Will said loudly. Emma and Killian disentangled themselves, but only just. "While we wait on the bloody barrister, I say we go grab some nosh."
Everyone laughed. Emma took a moment to excuse herself, rolling her eyes when Killian gently squeezed her ass. Clearly he had noted her lack of underwear if no one else had. Once she was presentable, the six of them went out for dinner, catching everyone up on the events of the last several weeks. It was actually fun.
"So have you and Will decided on anything?" Emma asked Elsa when they ducked into the ladies' room of the restaurant.
"By anything you mean?"
"I don't know. Is he gonna stay in New York with you?" Emma had every intention of living in Hawaii permanently; she and Killian could visit New York. Her parents would miss her, but they were only a phone call, email or plane ride away.
Elsa went pink. "I, uh, don't know. We haven't really talked about it."
"Elsa!" Emma said scandalously.
Elsa swatted her arm. "We're not like you and Killian," she hissed. "We actually can control ourselves!"
"But you have...you know."
Elsa went even redder. "Yes," she replied in a small voice.
"I knew it!" Emma washed her hands, drying them on a towel. "So? How was it?"
"Emma..."
"Come on," she coaxed. "I told you." Well, some of it. Elsa knew enough to understand that Emma was having a lot of great sex and enjoying every bit of it.
Elsa leaned back on the counter. "It's...nice. He's gentler than you'd think."
"I think that's you," Emma said. "He really likes you, Elsa."
"I like him too. A lot."
"So what do you want? I mean, you're welcome to hang out with us. Not like a roommate situation, because that would get really awkward..."
"Like today?"
It was Emma's turn to flush. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I know you, Emma. You two were in the throes of...something when we knocked."
Emma scrubbed her hand over her face. "You guys heard?"
"Only a little. Your dad started to hum."
"Oh god." She looked at Elsa. "Sometimes I wonder if that's...normal, wanting each other like that. All he has to do is look at me, or touch me, and..."
"Some couples are just like that, I think," Elsa said sagely. "You guys just connect on a very deep level and you want to share it. Nothing wrong with that."
"Let's try not to share that with my parents, okay?"
"Deal."
The next day, Elsa was the soul of discretion as she and Emma went with Mary Margaret on a dress shopping expedition. It was quickly apparent that Emma's idea of simple and her mother's were very different. They'd been to three different shops before Emma put her foot down.
"No, no, no!" she yelled, startling the poor saleswoman. "Whose wedding is this, Mom? Yours or mine?"
"Emma! I'm only trying..."
Emma sighed. "I know. But things like this," she said, picking up the skirt of the fancy ballgown, "are why I ran to Hawaii in the first place. This is your world. Not mine."
"Oh honey," Mary Margaret cried. She hugged Emma tightly. "I didn't know this bothered you so much. I am so sorry."
Emma hugged the smaller woman back. She was sorry for her outburst, but her mother needed to know. "It's okay. We'll just...try again."
Mary Margaret stepped back sniffling. "Yes, we can do that." She turned to the saleswoman, who was trying to look busy. "Do you have anything else?"
The saleswoman smiled. "I believe I do. Let me fetch them." She and her assistant gathered up the rejected dresses and disappeared. When she returned, Emma gasped. The new dresses were white (which was the one thing she and her mother had agreed on), but they were less like formal wedding dresses. The two nearest ones only looked they'd come to her knees, with flowing skirts.
"These are very popular with young brides," the saleswoman assured them. "Would you like to try them on?"
Emma nodded enthusiastically. "Very much."
She tried on the first dress. She liked it but didn't love it. The same with the next two. But the next one...she looked at her reflection in the mirror, the way the skirt swished around her legs (Killian would like that), the sash around the middle, the beading at the top...it was classy and modern and she loved it.
"Oh Emma," Elsa said, standing next to her. "I love it."
"Yeah?" She did too, but her friend's opinion meant a lot.
"Very much." She took Emma's long tresses in her hands, winding them up behind her head loosely. "How about that?"
Emma nodded. "Mom?"
"You look beautiful, Emma," her mother replied. Emma could see her in the mirror, blinking back tears. "I love it."
"Well, I guess that means we'll take it," Emma said, letting out a sigh of relief. She changed back into her regular clothes after they marked it for some slight alterations; the saleswoman assured them it would be ready in a day or two. (Mary Margaret added a healthy tip to ensure promptness.) After, Emma dragged Elsa on another mission while her mother went back to the hotel they were staying at. She wanted to put together a small private reception after the service and Emma didn't have the heart to say no.
Besides, she was only gonna get married once, right?
"Fabulous news!" Killian cried as soon as Emma stepped through the door.
"What?"
"That Archie bloke called," Will said, a bit tipsy himself. She'd been a little worried when the men went suit shopping today, but they seemed to be in one piece. "He's got yer papers and whatnot."
Emma stared at Killian. "Really?"
"Aye, love," Killian said, grinning broadly. He picked her up and spun her around, happy laughter spilling from their lips. "We can get married whenever we want."
Emma's cheeks hurt from grinning. "That's amazing." She yelped as Killian kissed her, dipping her.
"And that is our cue to leave," Will said, taking Elsa's elbow. "Call us when ye come up for air!"
Emma probably should have thrown something at him for his cheek, but she was too happy. As soon as her dress was ready, she would get to marry Killian Jones. And nothing would ever be able to take him from her again.
Why the bloody hell was he nervous?
Hadn't he dreamed about this?
Yet here he was standing outside the bloody Registar's office with sweaty palms waiting for his bride and her parents.
Oh my god, I'm really getting married.
Will tapped him on the shoulder. "Here, mate. You look like you could use it." He produced a flask from out of nowhere. Killian accepted it gratefully, taking a long swig of the rum.
"Thanks, mate."
Will took it back, tucking it away in his own slightly more ill fitting jacket. "Listen, I didn't want to say anything, but...are ya certain this is what ya want? And I'm not doubting Emma," he said, as Killian opened his mouth to protest. "But isn't this kinda...sudden?"
Killian scratched behind his ear. "I thought so too at first. God knows I don't want to be something she regrets." He paused. "But I love her. More than anything in the world. And she wants me. I want to spend the rest of my life with her, Will. I think I always have."
"Then I'm happy for ya, mate," Will replied, clapping Killian on the shoulder.
Killian went back to pacing in front of the squat old building. It was normal to be nervous before a life changing event, right? It didn't mean he had doubts. How could he? Emma was the best thing in his life; he needed her. Sure, they could wait, hope that her senator came through, but he was tired of putting his life on hold. He'd done it for years in the wake of Liam's death. Emma had gotten him to live again and he wanted to get on with it.
He stopped in his tracks when the limo (of course) stopped along the curb. Elsa got out first, looking pretty in a dress of pale blue. Mary Margaret was next, also in blue, followed by her husband. David nodded at Killian and he returned it, recalling their talk the day before. David wasn't entirely comfortable with this but Emma wanted it, so he supported her.
Killian gulped as Emma stepped out of the limo. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but he didn't think there was anything that could have prepared him for this. Her golden hair was piled on top of her head, a few whisps already unspooling. She had very little make up, his favorite, but that dress. It was white, of course, the top beaded, sash cinched around her waist with a flowing skirt that quit just above the knee. Her shoes were barely more than straps, with just enough height to show off her legs.
She was a vision.
"Hi," she said, cheeks pink, as she looked him up and down.
"Hello, love."
"You look..."
"Dashing?" he asked with a smirk.
"Maybe."
"You're gorgeous." He took her hand and brought the back of it to his lips. "Shall we?"
Her smile made his heart stutter. "Yeah."
Killian held tightly to her, her arm linked through his, as they navigated the way to the Registrar's office. Will and Elsa were going to sign as their witnesses; indeed, Will was on paperwork and ring duty. Unlike Killian, he hadn't had a drop to drink, not that he doubted his friend. But it was reassuring. Clearly, Elsa was a good influence on him.
The little party of six were ushered into the old cavernous room set aside for such ceremonies. Since Emma wasn't a citizen of the UK, a civil service was all they could have, but it was more than enough for him. She would be his and he would be hers, just as it should be.
"Do you have the papers?" the Registrar asked. He was in his fifties, had a bit of a paunch. He was also balding with spectacles. Killian hoped he could read the service. Or perhaps he had it memorized. He sounded a bit bored, which Killian tried not to take personally. Surely the man did hundreds of these a year, whereas he and Emma would only get one.
"Yea, right here," Will said, fishing them out of his pocket. He laid them out for the Registrar, who pursued them silently. He took so long, Killian started to get ansty. What if there was something wrong?
"Yes, everything seems to be in order." Killian let out a sigh of relief. "I just need the signatures of the witnesses and we can get on with things."
Killian exchanged a nervous smile with Emma as their friends presented their IDs and signed. He didn't want to break the moment by speaking. She was breathtakingly beautiful; he tried to focus on that. She looked happy, but a bit nervous too, which surprised him. This had been her idea, after all. He cocked a brow at her, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. Her face softened and she smiled, squeezing back.
"Are you ready?"
Killian swallowed, glancing at Emma. "We are."
"Then let's begin."
Killian only half listened. He caught just enough to repeat where he was supposed to, answer when he was supposed to. He could hear Mary Margaret's quiet sniffles, watching her baby girl get married. Killian's attention flew completely as Emma spoke, her voice a tad higher pitched than usual, a sure sign she was nervous.
When it was time for the rings, Will dropped the box on the floor, earning a nervous laugh from everyone. His face was beet red as he held the box out, Killian plucking the small silver band from it. That was when he almost lost it, putting the ring on her finger. He still felt a bit bad she didn't have an engagement ring, but she had been right all along. This was the one that mattered.
He had the tears to prove it.
He had to take a deep steadying breath as Emma repeated the process, sliding the larger band onto his left hand. It felt odd there, but he'd get used to it soon enough. He had no intention of taking it off. He held Emma's hands tightly, waiting on pins and needles for the end of the service.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the Registrar was saying. Killian's awareness had come back just in time. "You may kiss your bride."
Emma was already smiling when he kissed her, arms coming up around his neck automatically. In his giddiness, he lifted her off her feet, still kissing. Emma squealed into his mouth, and everyone laughed.
"Maybe you should put me down," she whispered, aware of all of the eyes on them.
"I'm never letting you go again, Mrs. Jones."
Emma giggled, kissing him once more briefly, then he put her down on her feet. "I like the sound of that, Mr. Jones."
Emma's mother arranged for a small private reception at one of London's more exclusive clubs. How she'd managed it he had no idea. But looking around the room, surrounded family—his new family—he couldn't have been happier.
"Before we order some lunch," David said, standing up, "I'll like to make a toast." The older man fidgeted, his suit jacket already hanging off the back of his chair. He picked up his champagne flute. "I have to confess...this is not how I imagined this day. Watching Emma grow up, I dreaded it." Killian was surprised to see the tears in the other man's eyes. "I dreaded it because I was jealous. Jealous that I would no longer be the only man in her life." He fixed Emma and Killian with a bashful stare. "But seeing her today, so obviously happy and in love...I am truly thankful. Thankful that she had found what I—we—hoped for. Someone who truly cherishes her as much as we do." David glanced at his wife, who was also near tears again. David smiled and raised his glass. "To Emma and Killian. I wish you a long and happy life together."
Everyone else raised their glasses and clinked them together. Killian nodded gratefully at his father in law before taking a sip.
"So what's good in this place?" Will said, breaking the sentimental moment.
That took them into lunch orders and small talk, most of which consisted of embarrassing stories. Through all of it, Killian kept a hold of Emma's hand under the table, thumb lightly brushing her knuckles. He could feel the ring on her finger, reminding him that this truly was real; she was his wife. It felt different and yet...the same. She was still his Swan, still far too good for him, but seemed to want him anyway. He prayed he never took that for granted.
"You okay?" Emma whispered, as Will was telling a story about bellhopping at The Crocodile.
"I am far better than okay, love," he whispered back. "How are you holding up?"
She fidgeted. "To be honest, I kinda have to pee." Killian laughed; she'd already had three glasses of champagne. Her green eyes were shining with intoxication.
"Would you like me to escort you?"
"Is that a thing husbands do?" she teased, fingers drumming on his thigh.
"Perhaps. Or I just don't want to allow my gorgeous wife out of my sight." He wondered if he would ever get used to how that word sounded on his lips.
"Come on."
Killian excused them and guided Emma toward the ladies' room. It was an old fashioned one that had a little sitting area outside it; the ladies loo had been tacked on after they began to allow women into the space. There were many clubs in London that still did not. Killian sat on a small loveseat and waited for Emma to return; he spun the new ring around his finger, still not quite believing it. He and Emma had known each other such a short time and yet, he couldn't imagine any other outcome.
His only regret was that his mother and Liam were not here to see him happy.
"Killian?"
He looked up; Emma stared at him curiously. "Better now?"
"Yeah." She sat next to him, taking his hand. "You looked sad."
He swallowed. He didn't want to ruin their day. "I was just thinking."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He almost didn't. But the words poured out him against his will. "I was thinking about Liam. And my mother. And how sorry I am that they missed this."
Emma laid her head on his shoulder. "Do you think they would have liked me?"
Killian chuckled. "They would have loved you, Swan. I've no doubt about that."
"I wish I could have met them too."
Killian let go of her hand and wrapped his arms around her. She fell into his arms willingly. "I love you, Emma. So bloody much."
"I love you too." She held him silently, reminding him that she was his safe harbor. And now she always would be. "Ready to go back?"
"Aye. They probably think you fell in," he joked, getting her to smile. When they returned they were all smiles again, the momentary sadness forgotten. Lunch arrived and they ate; Killian was suddenly starving. He'd been too nervous to eat before the ceremony.
"Robin sends his best," Will said as he devoured his shepherd's pie. "Wished he could have been here."
"We'll see him soon," Killian said. "Won't we, love?"
"I was hoping to stop in New York on our way," she said. "I just want to collect a few things."
"Of course we will," he replied, rubbing her back. "You can show me some sights."
"We'd love to host you for a few days," Mary Margaret said.
"Our esteemed friend Senator Collins has finally gotten Emma off the no fly list, so you should have no trouble entering the country," David added. "Just make sure Killian applies for a green card as soon as you get back to Hawaii."
"We can do that. We need to start looking for a place anyway," Emma observed.
Mary Margaret shared a glance with her husband. "Um, about that." She pulled an envelope out of her bag. "We thought this might be a nice first home for you," she said, handing Emma the envelope. "It's not far from the beach."
Emma accepted the envelope, opening it eagerly. Killian leaned over to look, his eyes widening. Emma's were the same. It was a condo, in one of the new highrises in Honolulu. An expensive condo, completely paid for.
"It's unfurnished," Mary Margaret was saying. "We got to it before they really did any decorating, so you can make it your own. We hope you like it."
"Mom, this is...wow." She looked at her parents. "Thank you so much." She got up and ran over to hug them. Killian was still a little stunned—it was an enormous gift—but he followed her. David shook his hand, but Mary Margaret pushed his hand away and hugged him tight.
"Welcome to the family," she whispered.
"Thank you," Killian whispered back. He sniffled once discreetly, then let go, appearing as if nothing were amiss. Emma was already showing the pictures to Elsa, happiness shining in her face.
"Well, it may not be a bloody condo," Will said, standing by Killian's shoulder. "But it's the thought that counts, innit?"
"What are you talking about, Will?"
He handed Killian a box. "Me an' Elsa got this for ya. Maybe ya can display it in that fancy new place." Killian tore open the wrapping, carefully lifting the lid on the wooden box. Inside was a crystal vase in the shape of a swan. Etched in the bottom was an inscription. To Emma and Killian, Swans mate for life. Love, Elsa and Will, 2015. "That bit about the swans was my idea," Will said proudly.
"You're insane, you know that, right?"
Will was about to retort when Emma and Elsa returned. "You gave it to him without me!" Elsa cried.
"Gave what?" Emma asked.
Killian handed her the crystal swan. "Our wedding present?"
Emma examined it closely, smiling when she read the inscription. "Well, it's not wrong," she said at last. "I hope you're ready for that."
"Love, I'm ready for anything."
"Good, because I think my mother wants us to dance."
"Dance?" As far as he could tell, there was no music. Then he heard the soft strains of...was it Mozart? Or Beethoven? He always got them confused. He looked up and someone (presumably the staff) brought in a small stereo; it sat on one of the side tables.
"Everyone should dance on their wedding day," Mary Margaret declared, smiling.
Killian shared a look with Emma, a grin on his lips. "Shall we then?"
She took his hand. "I would love to."
They moved out into the middle of the room, which had been cleared of tables and chairs, with Killian gently taking her into his arms. It started very proper, hands entwined, the other resting on hips and shoulders, as they swayed to the music. Killian could not wipe the smile off his face; Emma was the same.
"Hello there, Mrs. Jones," he murmured, pulling her just a hair closer.
"You really like saying that, don't you?"
"Is there something wrong with that?"
Emma shook her head. "What if I wasn't changing my name?"
Killian's eyes went wide. They hadn't actually talked about that; it was insane to presume...
"Hey, babe, calm down," Emma whispered, squeezing his shoulder. "Of course it's Mrs. Jones. I might hyphenate for work, but I will always be Mrs. Jones, okay?"
Killian exhaled. "It's bad form to torment a man during his wedding dance, love."
Emma stepped closer as they danced, brushing her lips across his cheek. "Sorry. I was only teasing."
"I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me." He smirked and moved to spin her, her green eyes sparkling when she whirled back into his arms.
"I'm sure I can. Perhaps sooner than you think." It was her turn to smirk.
Killian cocked a brow at her. "Swan? Do I detect some devious plan?"
She gave up all pretense of being proper, wrapping her arms around his neck. Killian's went to her hips and around her waist, careful to not antagonize her father. "There might be a surprise for you when we get back."
"Oh really? What sort of surprise?"
"Well, it is our wedding night, you know."
Killian's fingers twitched, imagining what she might look like under the beautiful dress. Her lovely pale skin and soft curves, begging for his touch. "How long do you think we have to stay here?" he whispered. Christ, he couldn't even kiss her the way he wanted to, not with their family and friends there. There were something best left to the bedroom. Or whatever other room they found themselves in...alone.
"Too long," she replied. She moved to press a brief kiss to his lips. "Later."
"Aye." They held each other for a few more moments, just soaking each other in. They were married. They were happy. Everything was as it should be.
"May I cut in?" David asked gently. Killian stepped back and nodded. He kissed the back of Emma's hand, then handed her off to her father. He watched them for a moment; David looked a bit teary again.
"He'll get used to it," Mary Margaret said, looping her arm through Killian's. "Eventually."
Killian gave her a forced chuckle. "This wasn't our intention," he said quietly. "For everything to be so...fast."
"I know." She smiled. "Fast is relative, you know. I knew David was the one by end of our first date."
"You did?"
"I did." She lowered her voice. "It might have taken him longer, but don't tell him I said that."
"Your secret is safe with me."
"My point is...when you know...you know. I see the way you two look at each other. I may not have at first, but that was my fault. But I do see it. She's happier than I've ever seen her and that's mostly because of you, Killian."
"She is extraordinary," he said, eyes drifting back to her. She was laughing at something David said; it lit up her face.
"Yes, she is. Far more than I gave her credit for. Something else I'll have to live with."
Killian didn't know what to say to that. His relationship with his mother had been relatively good, all things considered. As a single mother, he didn't see her as much as he wanted, but she was always loving. He missed her every day.
Beside him, Mary Margaret sniffed. "Just...don't be strangers, okay? When you get back to Hawaii."
Killian covered her arm with his hand. "I'm sure we'll visit often. And you and David are welcome...any time."
"Just call first?" Mary Margaret said mischievously.
"If it's not too much trouble," he replied, looking away. The memory of them all showing up at their door a few days ago was still fresh.
She just smiled. "Let me take a few pictures then you can steal her back." She got out her phone and snapped pictures of Emma and David dancing; Killian caught a glimpse of the album over the petite woman's shoulder. It seemed she'd been taking pictures all day.
"She's been doin' tha all bloody day," Will said, taking Mary Margaret's place. "Surprised we're not all blind!"
"Will!" Elsa hissed. "Be nice."
"Seriously, ya didn't notice all the flashes? Wrapped up in yer bride, I reckon."
"As a matter of fact, I was. She's gorgeous, isn't she?"
"I always thought she'd be a beautiful bride," Elsa said, following Killian's eyes. "Not that she'd ever talk about that kind of stuff."
The song changed again and Killian excused himself. He snagged back his wife—bloody hell, it was still a strange, but happy, thought—for another dance. He didn't want to let her out of his arms.
To his mind it too far too long to get away; their loved ones sending them off in yet another limo (this one already had the privacy screen up). Thank goodness there was no bloody rice thrown or anything like that. Alone at last, they merely stared at each other for a long moment as the car pulled into traffic. Emma burst into giggles, her face smiling and joyful, and he joined her, pulling her into his arms.
"I thought we'd never get rid of them," Emma said, calming a little, her head resting on his shoulder. She smoothed her hands over her skirt, then reached for his free one, their rings bumping together.
"I'm sure they meant well, my love." Honestly, the day had far more pomp and circumstance than he could have ever expected, given how it had come to pass. And it was a occasion meant to be shared by family.
"I'm grateful, and I'm glad they came, but all I needed was you."
Killian kissed the top of her head. "Well, we did require some witnesses."
"I know." She raised their hands, hers resting on his, their rings side by side. "We got married."
"Aye, we did. How does it feel?"
Emma raised her head, green eyes shining. "Good. Really good. How about you?"
"There is no place I would rather be, than at your side, Emma."
She smiled—it seemed neither of them could stop smiling—and cupped his cheek. Her thumb brushed his scruff as he drew him in for a kiss. Soft at first, light almost teasing brushes of her lips over his. He sighed, his hand sliding up to her neck, fingers curling into the loosening curls. Emma responded in kind, her hands sliding under his jacket, lips pressing harder.
"Killian," she breathed. He growled low in his throat, the pent up desire they'd squashed all day rising like an oncoming storm. He simultaneously pulled her closer and plucked the pins from her hair, allowing the gold tresses to tumble down her back. He much preferred it that way; he loved the way it felt between his fingers, the way she moaned if he tugged on it.
It didn't take long before her skirt was pushed up and she straddled his lap. His hands were already under it, gently massaging her thighs, creeping closer and closer to her heat.
Emma clung to his neck, mouth fused to his, tongue stroking his in a way that sent jolts of want right to his cock. Her hips jerked when he finally reached her soaking knickers, rubbing her through the fabric. "Oh god," she hissed, grinding herself down wantonly. It felt like they hadn't been together in days, rather than hours. "Oh god."
"Bloody hell, Swan." He was still in his suit; it felt like he was burning up, every sound she made driving him insane.
"I don't want to wait," she said, nibbling on his ear. "I want you right now."
Killian had no idea how much longer it would take them to weave through London traffic, but he wasn't sure he cared at the moment. All of his instincts were screaming at him to take her, to give her what she wanted so badly.
"Budge up," he muttered, hands pulling away from her core and fumbling with his pants. She couldn't help him, there was too much fabric in the way. Emma lifted her hips to give him space, while she loosened and yanked off his tie. A few buttons undone on his shirt and her lips were back on his skin, making him groan. His cock throbbed and twitched, so desperate was he to be inside her.
As soon as he was free, Killian's nimble fingers returned to her, pulling her knickers aside roughly. Emma mewled in pleasure, her wetness sliding over the head of his cock. "Oh yes, yes, yes," she breathed, almost like a chant, impaling herself on him. She was so wet, so fucking turned on, that he slid deep, as deep as he could from this angle, their moans filling the limo.
"Fuck," Killian cursed, his hips rolling up. He kissed her hard, one hand in her hair. "Ride me, Swan. Let me feel it."
She nodded furiously, body already moving, hips almost slamming into his, rolling and grinding, getting every drop of pleasure she could. The limo bumped under them, but neither paid attention, lost in a haze of lust and need. Killian nibbled and sucked on her neck, sure to leave a bruise.
"That's it, love, just like that," he whispered. "Feels so fucking good."
Emma bit her lip hard, forehead pressed to his. "I need..." she whined. "So close. Please."
Killian nodded and kissed her again. He swallowed her moans and cries, his fingers finding her clit. He pressed hard, deep, rough circles, willing her to come apart in his arms. Her nails dug into his skin as she trembled, walls fluttering madly around him, falling over the edge. Killian would never tire of the sight; she was stunning in the throes of her passion. Her release triggered his, his cry of ecstasy muffled when he buried his head in her neck.
Emma slumped against him, her breathing ragged in his ear. Their hearts pounded almost in tandem; Killian could feel it through the layers of clothes. He recovered enough to rub her back, knowing how that soothed her. Emma hummed appreciatively, lips brushing his neck as she rested. It had to be a bit uncomfortable for her wedged into his lap, but she made no complaint, content to stay where she was until the limo pulled to a stop in front of the building they had been calling home.
Gently, Killian rearranged her knickers and dress, smoothing his hands through her hair. She gave him a lazy sated smile then climbed off his lap, allowing him to fix his own clothes. He opened the door for her, hoping their driver was wise enough to remain in the driver's seat. There was no sign of him, thank god. Killian scrambled out himself, then tapped on the window to let the drive know they had disembarked.
"I think we forgot your tie," Emma said, looking apologetic.
"Bloody thing was a nuisance," he said, giving her a wink. What difference did one tie make when he got to make love to the most amazing woman he'd ever met? His wife now. It was more than a fair trade if you asked him. Killian took her arm and led them up the stairs to the flat. Not exactly the place he planned on spending his wedding night, but it would do. They were leaving late the next day, wanting to get home as soon as possible.
"Well, here we are," Emma said, pausing in front of the door.
"Indeed." Killian fished out his key and opened the door, snatching Emma's arm before she could step through. "Ah, ah, darling. I want to do at least one thing the traditional way." Before she could quiz him, he scooped her up, her surprised yelp music to his ears. Killian grinned, kissing her temple. He carried her over the threshold, kicking the door closed behind him.
Emma giggled. "I can't believe you did that!"
"What? Am I not allowed to indulge in a tradition with my beautiful bride?"
"You've been thinking about that for a while, haven't you?"
He put her down gently. "Longer than you would imagine, love."
Emma's face softened, and she stepped into the circle of his arms. "Me too." She kissed him sweetly, thumbs stroking his cheeks. "I love you, Killian."
"And I love you, Emma." He stole another kiss, then reached for Emma's phone. She'd left it behind since she didn't need it for the ceremony. "Care to dance?"
"Yes."
Killian scrolled through her music, coming across something he didn't expect. A playlist with his name on it. "What's this?" he asked, holding it up for her.
Emma blushed. "Oh. It's nothing. Just something I had while you were..." Gone.
"May I?"
She was wary for a a few seconds, but nodded. Surely, she didn't think he would mock her? He was merely curious. "Swan, if you want to keep it private..."
"No, it's okay. I think it's...appropriate, don't you?"
He started the first song, "Never Let Me Go" by Florence + the Machine. "It's an eclectic mix you have there," he said quietly, setting the phone aside and taking her hand.
"I guess I missed you a lot," she replied, arms wrapping around his neck. She sighed as he pulled her flush against him, swaying to the beat.
"I missed you too." He kissed her brow, hands tightening where he held her. He never wanted to repeat that experience again, almost losing her. Now, if they were lucky, the only thing that could part them was death. A long, long time from now. He wanted to have a life with her, laughter, tears, driving each other insane, the occasional row. One day, football practice and school for their kids.
"Killian?"
"Hmmm?"
"Not zoning out on me, are ya?"
"Now why would I do that, Swan? I've got perfection in my arms."
"I was being serious."
"So was I."
"Well, what were you thinking about then?"
He smiled and spun her. "I was thinking about how much we have to look forward to. We can have any life we want now."
"Starting with that insane condo my parents gave us?"
In all the excitement, he'd nearly forgotten about that. "That was an extraordinary gift."
"The Nolans don't really do things halfway, in case you hadn't noticed," she chuckled, moving to slip off his suit jacket.
"Oh, I noticed, Swan." Killian rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, then cradled Emma's face in his hands. "We are proof enough of that."
"Not really what I expected when I left home. Shows what I know, right?"
"What? You didn't expect to cross paths with a dashing stranger intent on sweeping you off your feet?"
"I didn't expect to find the love of my life," she said, her expression serious. "But I'm glad I did."
"Emma..." He didn't know what else to say; falling in love with her was both the scariest thing he'd ever done and the easiest. She was home after being without one for so many years.
"I know." She kissed him, and he felt it. Felt how much she loved him, like a surge all the way to his toes. "You still taste like that champagne."
"Did you not like it?"
"I did. A bit sweeter than I usually go for."
He cocked a brow at her. "I know of far sweeter tastes," he murmured, twisting some of her hair between his fingers.
Emma shivered. "Are trying to seduce me, Mr. Jones?"
"Always, Mrs. Jones." He didn't think there would ever be a time when he would have his fill of her. He brushed some hair back from her face, tipping her head back to kiss her. It didn't take long for the kiss to turn hungry as he wondered again just what she was wearing under that dress.
Emma surprised him by crooking her finger in his belt loop and dragging him toward the bedroom. He followed willingly, trying to pull her hair aside to reach the zipper on the dress. She was back in his arms in a flash, working the buttons on his shirt. She got his shirt off while he was still fumbling with the bloody zipper.
"Having a problem?" she asked with a smirk.
"Hold still," he ordered. "I don't want to ruin this pretty dress."
"You already had me in it," she pointed out.
"Because someone was a bloody minx," he growled. "Who just had to be fucked."
Emma licked her lips, not looking the least bit apologetic. "You were damn sexy in that suit. And I didn't hear you complain."
"Love, I don't think I would ever turn down a chance to be with you." The zipper finally skimmed down her back and he was a bit stunned that it didn't expose as much skin as he expected. But what it did reveal was almost better. "Swan..."
"You can see it better once you get the dress off, you know." Killian saw her bright but slightly nervous smile, as if he would think she were anything other than perfect. He tugged gently on the fabric; her arms slipped free, allowing the material to pool at her feet. All that remained was a corset made of white satin and lace with matching knickers. Her long lean legs were accentuated even more by her shoes now that she was bare.
"Bloody hell, love," he breathed, pants growing uncomfortably tight again. "All this for me?"
She nodded. "I had another one...you know, for after the ball."
One he never got to see because he'd been carted away in cuffs. "You're stunning, Emma." Killian reached out, his hands sliding over the bare skin of her shoulders, down to the swells of her breasts. "Turn around for me?"
She blushed and did so, stepping out of the discarded dress. She even put a little extra wiggle into her hips, which just made him groan. Christ, she was beautiful. And alluring and sexy and hot.
Killian stepped up behind her, arms sliding loosely around her waist. He peppered her shoulder and neck with kisses, smiling against her skin when she whimpered softly. She covered his hands with hers, not so subtly trying to get him to touch.
"Want something, love?"
"You."
"I'm right here. Not going anywhere." He teased the skin of her stomach just between the corset and her knickers. "But you dressed up for me. I want to enjoy it." Fingers eased into the waistband of her knickers and she squirmed against him, her ass rubbing into his still clothed crotch. He hissed at the contact, giving her a gentle thrust in retaliation. "We've got all night, lass." His hand moved lower, fingertips brushing her bare mound. Emma whimpered again, reaching back blindly to hold on to him.
"Killian, please."
He turned her head, capturing her lips in a sloppy kiss. He slid a finger through her slit; she was already slick, hips rolling into his touch. She sighed into his mouth, hand sliding into his hair. He teased her until she was trembling, almost mindless in her need. Killian pulled his hand away before she fell, earning a whine of protest.
"Damn you," she cursed, biting her lip.
"Lick," he demanded, holding his damp fingers to her lips.
Defiance flickered in her eyes, but she did as he asked, tongue darting out to lick her juices from his fingers. She moaned softly; it was a bit unfair since he knew all the things that made her desperate for him. He looked forward to her turning the tables on him at some point. But for now, he got to play.
To that end, he spun her back to face him, kissing her deeply. He got a hint of her sweetness in her kiss, but it wasn't nearly enough. Killian drew her hands to his fly and she caught on quickly, still kissing him as she deftly unfastened his pants and pushed them down his hips. She palmed him through the material of his boxers; Killian bucked into her touch. He'd just had her in the limo, but he needed her again, needed to feel her wrapped around him, squeezing him for dear life.
He managed to toe off his shoes and socks, ditching the pants too. "Mind taking care of that for me, love?" he asked, looking down at where she was stroking him.
"Like this?" Her hand slid under the waistband and pulled him free, applying the short firm strokes she knew made him crazy.
His eyes almost rolled back in his head. "Bloody hell that's good."
"I know what you like better," she said, licking a path down his sternum, following the trail of hair that led to where he was aching for her. Emma dropped to her knees, tugging the boxers the rest of the way down his legs. He barely had time to breathe before her mouth was on him, licking and sucking along the length of him. She kneaded his balls in her hand; Killian let out a long torturous moan. She held him steady, left hand curling over his hip.
"Fuck." He unashamedly rocked into her touch, her warm wet mouth almost making him forget his own name. He couldn't get over how incredible she looked kneeling before him, dressed in a virginal white corset, lips around his cock. She sucked lightly on the head, licking precum from the slit. Killian's hands dove into her hair, more to stay upright than to guide her. She knew exactly what he liked; it was maddening, just enough to keep him on edge. When he tried to fuck her mouth she would pull away, leaving him wanting. "Emma!"
She hummed around him, head bobbing, until she released him, licking her lips. "Yes?"
"Get up here. Now."
He caught her shiver as she rose, slightly wobbly on those heels. He didn't want her to take them off though. He wanted to fuck her with them on. Killian hauled her against him, hands sliding under her ass and thighs. Emma got the hint instantly, wrapping her long legs around his waist. He carried her the final few steps to the bed, kneeling onto it heavily. They tumbled down haphazardly, Emma giggling happily.
Killian covered her with his body, lips on her skin. The giggles melted into moans as Killian ground his cock into her wet crotch, her legs spreading automatically for him. He sucked another mark into her skin, along the curve of her breast. Emma arched and groaned, nonsense tumbling from her lips. His hands roamed her body, the satin and lace a nice contrast from her smooth warm skin. He loved her nude, but there was something about the corset that made him burn. He squeezed her ass; Emma cursed.
"Tell me what you want, Emma."
Her pupils were completely blown when her eyes locked with his. "I want you to fuck me."
"How?"
"However you want! Just get inside me. Please."
"What if I wanted to taste you first?"
"Yes! Yes! Just stop teasing!"
"So impatient, sweetheart," he admonished, kissing neck. He scooted down the bed, fingers curling into the waistband of her knickers and tugging them down her legs. Then he spread her wide, exposing her pink wet cunt to his greedy gaze. He stroked his thumbs over it, parting her folds. She dripped onto the sheet; he had to fight the urge to take her right then and there. Instead, he lowered his head between her thighs and gave a nice long lick.
Emma mewled and fisted the sheet, hips rising off the bed. Killian used one hand to hold her down, palm flat on her stomach. He dove in like a man starved, lapping at her, the sweet tangy flavor bursting on his tongue. He could taste her for hours, listen to the sounds she made. He fucked her with his tongue, teasing her entrance, finger rubbing her clit. She tried to buck and squirm, but he held her fast, enjoying his treat. He didn't let her come, driving her to the edge repeatedly until she was begging.
"Please!" she half sobbed, trembling and shaking.
Killian let her go, giving her a moment to calm down. He knew how desperate she was for release, but he didn't want to overwhelm her. He sat up on his knees, pulling her down to rest on his thighs. "You've been so good, my love," he whispered, rubbing soothing circles into the inside of her thighs. "So good. Can you be good for a little while longer?" Emma looked up at him and nodded. "There's my girl." He lowered her to the bed again and eased himself between her legs. He was hard as a rock and ached so much it hurt, but Emma was his priority.
He locked eyes with her, bracing one hand next to her head. She sucked in a breath when he rubbed the tip of his cock over her folds, teasing them both. He eased in slowly, inch by inch, letting her stretch snuggly around him. Killian shuddered; her warm tight channel almost undoing him completely. But fuck, he wanted this to last.
"Bloody hell, Swan," he hissed, head dropping to her shoulder.
"Move," she pleaded. "Fuck."
He fumbled for her hands, bracing them above her head, her wrists caught. Emma wrapped her legs around his waist again, holding him close to her. He tried to go slow, he really did, but Emma didn't want slow. Her hips rose to meet his every time he withdrew, hips snapping together in a quick but satisfying rhythm.
"Yes!" she cried, back arching under him. "Oh fuck yes."
"You like this?" he growled, hovering above her. "You like when I fuck you like this, Swan?"
"Oh god."
"Answer me."
"Yes!" she screamed as she shattered, hips stuttering madly into his. He was helpless, his own release unstoppable as her fluttering walls milked him dry. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. All he could do was collapse, every nerve in his body buzzing from his high.
He laid there longer than he should have; Emma made a soft groan of relief when he finally rolled off her. He kissed her damp brow in apology and got her cleaned up. She dozed a little as he unhooked the corset and pulled it from her body along with those heels. Killian organized a few other things as she slept before crawling in beside her. The stress and excitement of the day were getting to him, his lids were getting heavy. Emma rolled, curling her body into his. He welcomed her happily, tucking her into his side.
He flipped off the light, plunging them into darkness. In a few hours they would be going home.
She felt bad about sneaking out. Especially the day after their wedding. Which had been amazing, despite the circumstances. Emma smiled down at the silver band on her finger, recalling the moment Killian had put it there. Some people would see that as the end of their whirlwind romance, but Emma knew better. This was only the beginning.
Her excursion in the early morning quiet was something she wanted to do alone.
A call to Archie was all it took to find the information she was looking for. It surprised her how close their current lodgings was to the cemetery. Had Killian been here? She didn't know. He'd only mentioned his family once since she arrived and that was at their little reception the day before. Emma had been thinking about doing this long before; his sadness over them not being there to see him happy just affirmed her resolve.
She just wanted to pay her respects and then they could go home.
The wrought iron fence loomed in front of her; she pushed the gate open, wincing when it squeaked. It was only about eight o'clock on a Sunday morning; the streets were just coming to life. Emma looked around, biting her lip, not quite sure where to go. It seemed to be a newer cemetery; there were very few old stones. She wasn't sure if that was good or not. There was nothing for it but to scan the stones as she walked down the path in the middle, hoping the name Jones would jump out at her.
It took her nearly twenty minutes, but she found them. Two stones, side by side. Mother and son. Emma knelt down, tracing the names with her finger. Killian's mother had been young, far too young. Emma didn't even know what she looked like. She always imagined Liam as a older version of Killian, just with curly hair. And that was solely based on what Killian had shared with her. Did he have some pictures of them? Maybe she'd ask when they got home.
Emma sighed sadly, reaching behind her for the small bouquet of flowers. She split them and put each bunch in front of the stones for the mother and brother in law she would never know.
"I'll look after him," she said quietly. "I promise."
A tear slipped down her cheek and Emma brushed it away. There wasn't anything more she could do. Except keep her promise.
She spared one final glance at the gray stones and stood up. She wanted to get back before Killian woke up. They still had some packing to do before their flight. On her way back to the flat, she grabbed some scones (which she had become rather fond of) for their breakfast.
The scent of coffee already filled the small flat when she stepped back through the door. "Someone was up early this morning," Killian said, leaning over the counter in his boxers.
"Sorry, did I wake you?"
"No, but I did wonder where my wife was when I woke up."
Emma set the scones aside and wrapped her arms around him from behind. "Just getting breakfast," she said, kissing between his shoulder blades. "Sorry if I worried you."
He brought her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. "I just missed you, Swan."
Emma held him tighter, her cheek pressed to his back. "I missed you too."
"So what delectables did you bring us?"
"Scones actually. I thought we could munch and pack."
"Hmm, I might have to learn to makes these, since you've become so fond of them," he said, snatching the sack.
"You'd do that?"
"Emma, haven't you learned that there's nothing I wouldn't do for you?"
Emma swatted his shoulder. "I don't expect you to wait on me hand and foot, Killian."
"Nor I you, darling. But I can shower you tokens of affection whenever the fancy strikes." To her surprise, he spun around and picked her up, sitting her on the counter top. Emma squealed, laughing, amused by his determined expression.
"You call this a token of affection?"
Killian stepped between her spread legs, hands sliding up her sides. "I was just getting to that," he said indigently. The counter put them eye level; it stuck her again just how blue his eyes were, especially when he looked at her like that. She met him halfway when he kissed her, long and slow, warmth spreading over her.
Their morning activities (once in the kitchen and again in the shower) almost made them late for their flight, since they still needed to pack and get through security at Heathrow. Emma didn't regret it though. It was still very new and exciting, this marriage thing. Of course, they were always like that, so that excuse held no water.
"Fancy joining the mile high club?" Killian whispered as they settled into their seats on the plane.
Emma was just sore enough that the idea wasn't as appealing as it should have been. "Raincheck?" she asked, buckling her seatbeat. "Might be easier on the next leg." Especially if they took the Nolan private plane to LA.
Killian chuckled and kissed her cheek. "Don't think I won't hold you to that, Swan."
"I'd despair if you didn't."
It was a long flight, longer than she remembered. Although, that may have been because she was now flying commercial instead of hitching a ride with the government. Her parents were seated a few rows down alongside Elsa and Will; with the rushed departure they'd had to take what they could get. Emma didn't mind though. She leaned her head on Killian's shoulder and slept, their hands entwined.
The real test would be when they landed.
At first it started normally. They disembarked, toting their carry on luggage. Emma had all their paperwork tucked into her bag (she'd checked it five times before they left London, just to be safe), ready to present when they went through customs. Her parents went through first (easy), then Elsa and Will (Will got into an argument about whether or not he had to declare his new suit since it had been a gift). Once it was their turn, Emma stepped right up to the customs agent and handed her their papers. While the agent perused that, she listed all the things she needed to declare (her wedding dress was in storage in London along with several other things; Archie would be sending all that along later) and held her breath. Killian squeezed her had reassuringly and Emma was grateful. She was certain this would work; if they could get into New York, getting home would be a snap. The woman took so long Emma started to fidget. Did the language get turned into Klingon when she wasn't looking?
"May I have your passports, please?" the woman said at last.
Emma handed them over; they would need to get Killian a new one as soon as he had his green card. But the customs agent declared everything to be in order, stamped their passports and sent them on their way.
Emma didn't celebrate until they were out of earshot. "We did it!" she cried.
Killian kissed her soundly, right there in the middle of the concourse. "I love you."
"Right back at ya, babe," she replied, taking his hand. "Come on. Let's go find the others."