I own nothing except my delusions.
Stepping from the diner with a drink tray balanced precariously in his real and false hands, Killian nearly stumbled into whoever had been about to enter.
"Whoa, whoa," David's voice came from the figure. "Sorry about that- Killian."
His voice suddenly turned nervous as he realized he had nearly hit Killian.
"It's no issue, mate," Killian replied, his irritation with the man coming from something other than nearly being knocked over.
Moving so he was below the steps, David paused, looking back at Killian. "You're angry at me."
Not even bothering to pretend otherwise, Killian glared at him sharply. "Glad you noticed."
David flinched back at his sarcasm. "Why?"
Nearly scoffing, Killian shook his head. "Tell me this, Dave. Why didn't you just end things with Kathryn so you could be with Mary Margaret?"
Looking suddenly guilty, David shifted his weight, leaning away from Killian. "Because of you, actually. You and Emma."
"What?" Killian snapped in disbelief. "You decided to make this mess you're in because of Emma and I?"
Swallowing uncomfortably, David shrinked back. "I know how people talk about you. About Emma. I thought that maybe if I made everything look okay, no one would get hurt. I could save Mary Margaret from the same looks you and Emma get."
Furious, Killian glared at him. "Well, you did a bloody wonderful job. Everyone is hurt, including Emma. Mary Margaret went after her the other night, did you know that? She blamed Emma, saying it wasn't fair that I left Mara when you wouldn't leave yours. And you know what? People talk worse about Mary Margaret than they do Emma."
"I didn't know that," David said quietly, running his hand over his face in shame.
Stepping forward, Killian stood only a foot away from David, letting the other man see his rage, not caring in the least that he was staring down Emma's father. "I don't care what happens with you and Mary Margaret. That's your mess. But I'll be damned if Emma gets hurt because of your actions."
Shakily, David nodded.
Forcing his breathing to even out, he pushed past him to return to the station.
A wave of calm instantly washed over him as he saw Emma straightening up a pile of papers so they could leave. A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched her, feeling his chest warm.
"I think those can wait til tomorrow," he said as he stepped forward.
Looking back towards him, she nodded tiredly, taking the cocoa he offered and setting it down. "Yeah, you're right."
Stepping forward until she could wrap her arms around his waist, she reached up to kiss him.
"Let's go home," he murmured.
She nodded, pulling away to turn off the lights.
Closing the door to the office, she leaned against him as she looped her arm through his, sipping her drink.
"Tired, love?" he asked softly, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.
"Exhausted," she replied, resting her head against his shoulder as they began to walk.
He hummed, brushing a kiss to her hair. "Well be home soon, Swan. You can rest then."
Nodding, she kept close to him, leaning further into him as they trekked back to his place, both out of affection and exhaustion.
They each released a sigh of relief when he pushed his door open, allowing them to walk in. Immediately removing his jacket, he rolled his shoulders out, trying to relieve the tension he felt.
"Hey, I'm gonna go change," Emma told him, going back towards the bedroom.
He nodded, watching her go as he wandered to the kitchen to see what they could do about their dinner, making a mental note to go grocery shopping. He knew they likely should have gotten something while everywhere was still open, but neither of them had thought about food at the time.
Quickly finding what he needed, he set out to make a couple grilled cheese sandwiches, knowing Emma could use the comfort food with everything that had happened the past couple days.
She reappeared a few moments later, wearing black rimmed glasses in place of her contacts and a pair of pajamas that consisted of shorts and one of his tee shirts. He smiled at the sight.
"Grilled cheese?" she asked in interest, peering over his shoulder.
"I thought you would like it," he told her lightly.
Humming in appreciation, she pecked his cheek.
Seeing her without makeup, Killian noticed just how dark the circles beneath her eyes were, making him worry. He released a small sigh, wondering how late he could convince her to go in the next day.
She helped him plate their dinner, taking them to the table.
"I know we don't have any of your onion rings, but thought this is better than nothing," he said apologetically.
Shaking her head, she swallowed the large bite she took from her grilled cheese. "Don't worry about it. This is great and really what I needed. Thank you."
Giving her a small smile, he nodded.
Watching her, he saw her movements were slightly sluggish, hinting at her exhaustion.
She sat on the bed while he moved to get ready to retire for the night after their dinner, having already done everything herself.
The second he came back into the room in just a pair of sleep pants, he saw Emma curled up on top of the covers, her ribs rising and falling easily with sleep. He hadn't been gone five minutes and she was deep in slumber.
A small loving smile curling his lips, he carefully pulled the blankets from beneath her to cover her before sliding under himself.
Gentle as not to wake her, Killian pulled her to him so he could curl around her, holding her to him. The only response he got from Emma was for her to nuzzle into him in an attempt to press closer into him, knowing in her sleep he was there.
Inhaling the scent of her hair, Killian let himself slip under.
Walking out of the hall into the kitchen, Killian heard the stove click off as Emma set the last of the plates containing their breakfast on the table. She had made a full spread for them, consisting of pancakes, eggs, and meat, making him suspect she had run to the store while he got ready.
Coming up behind her as she straightened something on the table, he pressed a kiss to her cheek. "What's all this?"
"Breakfast," she shrugged, a blush rising in her cheeks. "It's- well, you didn't have to let me stay here, so I wanted to do something-"
She was cut off as he pressed his lips to hers.
"You don't have to do that," he said, pulling away slightly. While the action was greatly appreciated and filled him with a sense of warmth, he didn't want Emma to believe it was expected. "You know I'm happy to have you, and you're always welcome here, for as long as you want."
Giving him a small smile, she nodded, pulling him to sit down.
"Still, that doesn't mean I can't do stuff around here," she pointed out. "There's no reason I can't cook and everything."
"I never said you had to," he said incredulously. "Swan, I don't expect you to have to do everything around here."
"But if I want to?" she challenged, her brow raised. "If I am staying here, is it wrong for me to try to help you around here?"
He knew he couldn't stop her, especially with how stubborn she was.
"Well, if you are staying here, when do you want us to go get the rest of your things?" he asked, thinking of the small bag she had originally brought with her.
"Wait, we?" she asked in surprise.
He nodded. "Aye. You helped me move out of that hell hole of a house I used to reside in, so why shouldn't I help you?"
"I just didn't expect you to want to," she replied quietly.
Smiling softly, he reached across the table to slip his hand in hers.
"But maybe I should get my stuff," she said, likely thinking of the rapidly dwindling small bag she had brought with her.
He nodded. "Maybe after breakfast?"
Nodding in return, she took a bite of her pancake.
He cleaned up the kitchen as she escaped to the shower, finishing with everything by the time she reappeared.
Leaving their phones on call for until they arrived at the station, they took his car to the loft, finding Mary Margaret had already left.
"Let's just make this quick," Emma muttered as she led Killian up the stairs to her room.
He followed her up, seeing her piling some clothes into a bag. He noticed the room was bare of really any personal belongings, the only decorative touches belonging to Mary Margaret. Nothing about the room really indicated that Emma dwelled in it.
For some reason, he felt a pang of sadness at her lack of permanence in a space that was supposed to be her own. She may have left the loft abruptly after her fight with Mary Margaret, but that she hadn't ever really established the space as hers to begin with pained him.
He suddenly found himself wanting to change a few things in his own home and wanted to take Emma with him to look for the things to replace them with, looking for ways to mark the space as her own. He wanted her to be comfortable in his house, for her to make it her home as much as it was his.
"Need help?" he asked her.
She shook her head as she pushed her hair back. "No, I've got it."
Not knowing what to do with himself, he sat on the edge of the bed until the messy way she packed her clothes in her bag became too much, leading him to neatly fold them and place them back in the bag with room to spare while she flashed him a teasing smile as he worked.
Filling up the small duffle bag, she pulled it over her shoulder. "Let's go."
"That's it?" he asked, finally taking in the small amount she carried, just a couple bags of clothes and a couple boxes.
"Yeah," she said, almost embarrassed. "I travel light."
He felt another ache for her, understanding all too well.
Seeming to know what he was thinking, she gave him a small smile before brushing her lips to his in a chaste kiss.
"Let's go?" she asked.
He nodded, taking the bags from her and slinging them over his shoulder before grabbing one of the boxes. "Aye."
Glad that she had the rest of her clothes, Emma found herself looking forward to changing into something more comfortable after she was done unpacking some of her things in a small space. For some reason, she was eager to settle in for once, instead of following her usual habit of leaving everything available for if she needed to move quickly.
As they thought, nothing had happened at the station all day, leaving them bored with nothing to do. She lost more matches than won against Killian in darts before they both took off for lunch, only to return back with nothing to do.
Killian followed her into the bedroom as she set her bags on the bed, immediately going to the dresser to clear some drawers.
"Whoa, wait," she said, making him pause his movements, suddenly aware of how much he was clearing out. "What're you doing?"
He looked at her questioningly. "Clearing out space for you to unpack. I'll get the closet, next."
"You're making space for me?" she asked, repeating his statement as a question.
"Yeah," he replied in confusion. "You can't just live out of your bags. If you're staying here, you should have your own space."
A small part deep inside Emma felt something more than just affection for the man before her, making her walk over to him and press a gentle kiss to his lips.
"Thank you," she nearly whispered as she pulled away from him.
Offering her a small, tender smile in return, he looked down at the drawer he had begun pulling things from. "I know it's early, but I want you to feel like this is a place you can settle down in. That it's somewhere you can make yourself at home."
Feeling a light blush at the surety in his voice, she nodded, hoping the light was dim enough to hide it.
He helped pass her the clothes from her bag as soon as the space was cleared, letting her organize them in the drawers. As they moved to storing some of her things to the closet, it made her start to feel like the space was just as much hers.
Collapsing her bags after she was done, Emma sat at the bed, letting a sense of right wash over her. She knew that they were technically moving quickly, even if she was staying with him out of necessity more than anything, but it somehow felt right being with him. She was happy with him.
Killian sat down beside her, releasing a heavy sigh. "You know, I was actually thinking I might change a few things around here. Not redecorate, exactly, but just change some things."
He glanced down at the quilt they sat on. "Like this. I've always hated this bloody thing."
Realizing exactly what he was doing, that he was planning on letting her add more of her own personal touch on his house, his home, she reached across the small space between them to slant her lips across his.
Her hand winding through his hair, she moved to pull herself closer to Killian before to her embarrassment, her stomach rumbled loudly.
He grinned at her. "Maybe we should think about what to do about dinner."
Laughing, Emma nodded, letting him pull her up and lead them to the kitchen.
Teaser: Smiling, she nodded in agreement. "I think he would be, too."
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