A/N: I just thought I'd add to the CS date madness. Some of this no longer fits in with the spoilers (it also does contain spoilers so watch out for that) but it's just a fun take on a night that will likely crush our souls and have us giggling like school children.
As always, I don't own anything. Please enjoy and review.
Emma hasn't felt this nervous in a long time and she simultaneously wants to bang her head against a wall and twirl around listening to 'Dancing Queen'. She considers that hiding under her covers might be a nice middle to the other options.
She gives her dress a small spin in the mirror, enjoying the way the material flows around her legs. She's been so busy being the leather and boot wearing saviour recently that she's almost forgotten how fun it could be to put on something pretty and let herself be excited for something.
The dress is something her mother lent her as Emma didn't exactly pack clothes for dates when she left New York and she appreciates her mother's taste. The rose coloured dress has flowers stitched into and flowing skirts that make Emma want to copy Katniss and turn into the Mockingjay.
Emma signs and brushes down her skirt one last time, understanding that delaying isn't going to get her anywhere. She mentally scolds herself as she places her phone and keys into her clutch, reminding herself that she was faced and won against a dragon, a date is nothing in comparison.
The stairs clack under her heels, drawing the attention of Elsa and her parents and she blushes under their scrutiny. Her father is gaping as her mother smiles sadly and Emma thinks of her first date when she was sixteen – or what she counts as her first date – and tries not to picture what could have been.
"You look radiant, Emma," Elsa exclaims and this wakes her parents from their trances as they chime in their agreement.
"Thank you," she says, her reply changing when she sees a certain object on the table, "What's that?"
"Oh, that's nothing," her mother says brightly, "Just something to commemorate her event."
Emma rolls her eyes, "It's just a date, Mom, not my prom."
The reminder of what they've lost hangs heavy between them and Elsa senses the tension, obviously restraining herself from asking what a prom is.
Mary Margaret seems to clutch Neal closer to her chest as she says quietly, "I know, Emma, but it's important to me."
"Okay," Emma sighs, defeated, "But for the photo I actually need my date-"
A knock at the door interrupts Emma and the butterflies in her stomach seem to intensify.
"Speak of the devil," she mutters with a determined smile before she turns to her parents, "I know this is important for you but please don't overreact."
The steps to the door are some of the longest she has taken and she needs a moment to breathe before she jerks the door open, annoyed with herself.
Emma finds herself staring in shock at Killian, who has suddenly conformed to modern clothes and wears them seriously well. She is slightly mollified by the fact he seems to be gaping at her as well.
"Hi, Killian," she says awkwardly, "Come in, I'll just grab my things."
Killian seems to break out of whatever trance he was in and gives her a ravishing smile, if the increase in her heart rate is anything to go by.
"Just a moment, Swan, I believe it is a tradition in your world to gift a lady with flowers before the date?"
He's suddenly presenting her with a rose and Emma's not sure what shocks her more, the flower or the fact he's giving it to her with his left hand.
"Killian," she asks, shocked, "How did this happen?"
"It turns out magic can be very handy," he replies with an idiotic wiggle of his eyebrows as she accepts the flower, breathing deeply.
"So, what am I supposed to call you now, Captain Hand?"
Before Killian can respond with a suitable retort, her mother calls for her, causing Emma to blush with the realisation that she's been flirting with Killian in the doorway to her parents' loft.
"Emma, stop leaving Hook in the doorway," her mother scolds.
Emma lets Killian inside and leaves Killian to his explanations as she finds a vase for her flower.
Mary Margaret brightens when she re-enters the room, "Good, Emma, go stand next to H-Killian."
Emma smiles at her mother's stumble and figures they all have some adjusting to do. She slips her arm around Killian's waist and ignores his surprise.
"What exactly is going on, Swan?"
"My mother's taking a picture... Like an instant painting."
He arches his brow, "Aye? Your realm continues to amaze me."
Her mother holds the camera ready, "Three, two, one, smile!"
There is a bright flash of light and Emma blinks, starting to move away before her mother calls, "Emma, wait, one more. Killian, you have to look at the camera."
Killian looks a little shamefaced and Emma smiles, releasing he was too busy staring at her. He slips his own hand – his left hand – around her shoulders this time and begins to draw circles with his thumb.
"Both looking, good. Three, two, one, smile."
There is another flash but this time Mary Margaret is grinning and moving to place the camera down.
"Now, young lady," David says sternly, hands on hips but there is a twinkle in his eyes, "You need to be home by eleven."
"But, Dad," she whines, "At least give me to midnight."
David laughs and pulls her into a half-hug, kissing the top of her head, "You look stunning, Emma, have fun tonight."
Emma says a quick goodbye to Elsa and Neal and manages to eventually extricate herself from her mother's hug – not that she is opposed to it, they're just going to be late for their reservation if they don't leave soon – and finally grabs her clutch and jacket to leave. She doesn't miss the strange nod conversation between her father and Killian, but she'd need at least an hour and a good glass of rum to be able to decode what it means.
There is an awkward moment between them on the landing once the door finally closes as they both breathe a sigh of relief.
She smiles shyly at him, "Shall we?"
"Wait a moment, Emma," he says, flustered, "May I?"
He is holding up his left hand and Emma nods slightly, her eyes not leaving his as he slowly raises his hand to cup her face. She leans into his touch as he traces over the apples of her cheeks and the dimple in her chin.
Meeting her eyes seems to galvanise him into action as he moves forward, both hands on her face as his lips meet hers. She was surprised to find last night that he seemed to be holding back on her and he no longer felt the need to do so after her confession. His hand threads into her hair as her pushes under his jacket, tracing the warmth she can feel through his vest.
She pulls back reluctantly, all too aware of where they are, and it is very hard to resist the temptation to continue when he's staring at her like she's a goddess and his pupils are blown.
"We don't want to be late for the restaurant," she manages to spit out and she is relived when he steps back, unsure of how much longer she could resist.
"Of course, I suppose this date will only work if we actually make it to the establishment," he teases and holds out his elbow. She links her own with a gracious nod and they make their way out of the building, a sense of overwhelming joy filling Emma's every pore.
The drive to the restaurant is filled with nervous glances and shy smiles and Emma is suddenly glad for her grip on the wheel as it makes it easier to resist the urge to explore his new outfit up close and personal. Killian seems distracted as well, stretching his hand when he is not gazing at her and she can't blame him for it.
Emma feels some of her nerves leave her once they are finally seated – getting there without some sort of crisis occurring almost seemed too good to be true – smiling to herself as Killian pulls her chair out for her.
"I told you I'm always a gentleman, love," but there is nothing gentlemanly about the way he whispers it into her ear.
She focuses firmly on her menu ignoring the heat rushing through her body but going by his quiet laugh and the twinkle in his eye when she finally deigns to look up, she knows she's not fooling anybody.
"Maybe we should continue to introduce you to the wonders of modern cuisine, Captain," she says, hoping to distract him from her rapidly reddening face, "You still seemed terrified of bologna."
"That's because of all the evils I've faced in all the realms, Swan, bologna is one of the greatest."
She gives another cursory look over her menu before closing it decisively, "How about spaghetti then? Unless you don't think you can handle it?"
"Oh, I think I've proved that I have vast capabilities in handling," he finishes with a sinful lick of his lips.
She is about to respond when their waiter clears his throat, in their banter she hadn't even notice him arrive.
She places their order and passes over their menus, trying to focus on anything besides the fluttering in her stomach or that fact her lips were still tingling from their kiss.
"So, Swan," Killian starts once the waiter leaves, "What is one supposed to on one of these dates?"
She shrugs, "Depends on the people. I'd like to know more about you than how you can handle yourself in a life-or-death situation."
"Aye? Ask away, love, I'm an open book."
The reminder brings a smile to her face and she racks her brain for a question. In all the time they'd spent together she'd created a list of so many questions, ones that disappear as soon as his blue eyes lock onto hers.
"Okay, first question, favourite colour?"
He gives a small chuckle to that, "Really, Swan? Of all the queries you could make, you ask about my favourite colour?"
"Shut up, I'm easing you in, just answer the question."
His mirth suddenly turns serious as he answers quietly, "Gold."
He doesn't meet her eyes as she scoffs, "Of course, such a pirate."
"Pirates do like their treasure, lass," and his easy smile helps her ping it as a lie.
She sighs, "You're supposed to tell the truth here, Killian, there's not much point if you don't."
Killian nods and shifts uncomfortably, tracing circles with his reattached hand, "Alright, love. For as long as I can remember, blue was my favourite colour. The sea was always a constant in my life and I loved its shades, the dark blue when she's in a bit of a mood or the lighter shades when there's nothing but calm seas ahead."
He clears his throat before continues at looks straight at her, "Then one day, I was hiding among the dead and I was roughly turned over and in that moment, all I could see was gold. I've been running after that particular colour for some time now."
Emma feels her breath catch at his answer, wondering if there'd ever be a time when he didn't surprise her.
"So much for an easy question," she replies weakly.
"What about you, Swan?" She blinks, still absorbing his answer, "Your favourite colour?"
"Yellow," she says distractedly, "Like my Bug."
He nods and seems to file the information away, "What else do you want to know?"
She gains a moment when their drinks arrive and gives a grateful nod to the waiter before taking her drink, needing to wet her throat.
"I don't know where you were born, not that I know many – or any – places in the Enchanted Forest."
"Not many would know of it. It was a small village named Ula near the edge of the Enchanted Forest."
"Was?" She probes gently.
He gets a faraway look in his eyes, "Aye. The village was hit by a plague when I was a young lad, then afterwards with the Ogre Wards and crop failure, it simply faded away. One of the prices of my longevity."
Emma wants to hear more but is unsure of how to broach an obviously painful topic, "Can you tell me about it?"
He smiles at her sadly, "There isn't much to know. I lived there with my parents and Liam, until he went to join the navy. Then I spent most of my time escaping my chores and making my way to the ocean, where I could pick fight with crabs and pretend I was a dashing captain."
"I like that sound of that."
Killian attempts to continue nonchalantly, but Emma can sense the story is darker than his casual manner reveals. "It didn't last. I left the village soon after the plague struck with my father and it wasn't long after that he left me as well."
"You were abandoned?" Emma chokes out.
"Aye," he replies, putting so much feeling into that one syllable.
"I suppose that was another lie you told," at his confusion she clarifies, "One the beanstalk, you told me you knew I was an orphan because I shared the same look as the Lost Boys. You never said you were one of them."
"More of a lie of omission, that was," he replies carelessly.
"A Lost Boy and a Lost Girl," she murmurs, "What a pair."
He holds up his glass for a toast, "To finding home."
"And to the people that hold you there."
Their glasses clink and as their foods arrives, Emma sighs happily, thinking that everything was going better than expected.
Emma muses to herself as she exits the Bug, the date may not have gone off without a hitch – the wine stain on her dress proving that – but it was the most fun Emma has had in a very long time.
"I hope your evening was as anticipated, Swan," Killian says with a nervous scratch behind his ear.
Killian thinks he ruined it and she can't let the night end with that thought, "Hey," she says firmly, "I had a great time."
That smile is back and Emma is momentarily glad she still lives with her parents because that is the only thought stopping her from taking it further as he swaggers forward.
"Is that so, Swan? Perhaps I can interest you in another date that involves less monsters and more me."
Hers eyes unashamedly move down to his lips, "Perhaps you could."
His hands are tangled in her hair and her own disappear inside his jacket, feeling the warmth of his back. Her head tilts and he uses it to his advantage, her body feeling as if it's been set on fire. They break for air and he reluctantly steps back, smiling brightly.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Swan?"
"You will," she says, smiling in return, "We've had the night off so you know something bad is going to happen tomorrow."
He lightly grabs her hand and places a gentle kiss on her knuckles, "And yet, I will treasure every moment with you."
She cannot think of anything witty to reply with, so she merely extracts her hand – still tingling from the contact – and whispers goodnight. If she has any powers of flight, she's likely to discover it soon as she walks up the stairs to the loft, feeling as though she is floating.
The door swings open quietly, her attempts to sneak unnecessary as she notices her parents are still awake, having at quiet drink at the table.
Her mother smiles gently over the rim of her mug, "It looks like you had fun."
"I did," she whispers, softly closing the door as to not disturb Neal, "You didn't have to wait up."
Her father reaches over to grab her mother's hand, "We wanted to."
Seeing her parents, Emma suddenly pictures herself and Killian in that position and the thought doesn't scare her as much as it should. For the first time in forever, Emma Swan is not afraid of the idea of love.
"I suppose you'd like to hear all about it," she says with an exaggerate sigh as she sits down.
Mary Margaret's quick protest and David's fidgeting tell a different story and eagerly speaks of her date, hoarding some memories to herself, like the treasure they were.
A/N: Stay strong people, just a couple more days! Thank you for the review, teania, you will be able to see what your wonderful musings have inspired in the next update.
If anyone's interested, the name 'Ula' is a Celtic name meaning 'Gem of the Sea', I quite liked it considering Killian eventually sails on the 'Jewel of the Realm'. I almost picked the name of a place in the Sunshine Coast that is named after the Black Swans that hang about, but Ula won.
Adrina Stark.