You survived the heartbreaking angst of the last chapter, congrats! Think of this chapter as a reward ;)
As usual - all the credit to my two aura fluffers, Irene and Tori, for screaming at me with every paragraph I sent them as I wrote this thing.
There's a little bit of time progression here, character development, and more from Killian's team.
Then...well, let's just say...this chapter earns its E rating...enjoy!
Your Case or Mine
Chapter 25
Over the next four weeks, things settled down into a new kind of normal for everyone. Killian and his team solved multiple cases in quick succession. He knew he was throwing himself into work to avoid thinking about the crushing emptiness he felt everytime he was alone with his thoughts for too long, but working was a better solution than the 'drown his sorrows' alternative, at least.
David had made multiple phonecalls to his friends at Quantico, planting the seed for a local BAU office and following up a few times each week. He'd had a few calls back, and they seemed to be on board with the idea. There had been costings and all the political nonsense to go over, but his friend had called him exactly a month after he made the first phone call, to let him know the good news. The FBI were going ahead with opening a new BAU office out of the Massachusetts Bureau of Investigation.
And considering they'd be working mostly with Boston Homicide, the MBI had taken note of David's name-dropping. They'd said they would reach out with an offer and go from there. When David had informed Will about the development, the younger man had worn a shit-eating grin for the rest of the day.
Killian had received word a few days later that the FBI Director wanted to see him, and he'd immediately panicked. Was this going to be a reprimand for the way the Boston case had played out? Had they got wind of the fact that he'd had much more than a professional relationship with Emma, while they'd been undercover?
There wasn't a strict no-fraternizing policy, and it was generally discretionary, but he could imagine how they'd frown upon it as unprofessional if it had come to their attention. Especially considering he'd been the one who'd shot Neal, as he held Emma hostage.
But it was a good shoot. And he'd turned in all his paperwork afterwards, which had been reviewed and approved. An IAB review hadn't been deemed necessary and he'd returned to work as normal, on the premise of being signed off by the unit's psychiatrist. Which he had been. So he wasn't sure what the big bosses would want to see him about, and he'd sat nervously outside the office as he waited to be called in.
Their offer of heading up a new Boston BAU hadn't been anticipated. It had blindsided him, and he'd stared at his boss blankly as he'd tried to process the opportunity being offered to him.
Move to Boston. Accommodation covered. Salary increase. Put together his own team. Work closely with Boston Homicide and Special Victims departments.
It was all a little overwhelming, and thankfully his boss didn't expect an answer right there and then. He gave him a file of paperwork to read through, and requested that he receive an answer within the following two weeks, so they could move forward with everything, or extend the offer to someone else if he decided not to take it.
He left the office in a daze, file under his arm. It was a lot to take in, and he would spend the evening reading every page of the file, including the small print. But somehow, deep down, he already knew his answer. And he had a feeling this wasn't all a coincidence either, that the offer hadn't come out of thin air.
He made a mental note to give David a call when he got a chance. He knew he had some friends at Quantico, and had sneaking suspicion that the Boston Homicide Captain had whispered in a few ears to guide the direction of the bureau's job offer.
He debated whether to tell Emma about it too. Over the month, they'd gradually started talking again, albeit only through texts. She'd extended the olive branch, texting him a few days after her birthday to awkwardly apologize for her angry drunk text.
"Hi. I'm sorry for the indecipherable drunk rage from the other night. I've sworn off the rum for awhile. I get why you left the way you did and the letter was nice (when I read it again today, anyway). Can we still be friends?"
His heart had raced when he'd read it, and his hands had shaken just a little when he'd eagerly replied that he'd love to remain friends. They'd texted every few days after that. Just lighthearted, inconsequential things that had made both of them smile.
He still missed her, so much it made his stomach hurt some evenings, as he sat at home, watching TV and forcing himself not to text her again. He hadn't wanted to come on too strong when their friendship was so tentative at that stage.
But they gradually texted more as the weeks went on. And by the time he received the job offer in Boston, a little over a month after he'd left, they were talking every day. He'd text her as soon as he woke up. He wouldn't tell her that he'd dreamed about her, the way he did almost every night, but he liked knowing he was the first one she spoke to each morning. It was as close as he could get to waking up beside her again.
"Good morning, love. Did you know that the 100 folds in a chef's hat represent 100 ways to cook an egg? Enjoy your coffee and try to have more than just a Pop Tart for breakfast ;)"
He couldn't remember exactly how the daily routine of texting her a random fact had started, but over a few weeks it had become a source of ongoing amusement for both of them. And it took the awkwardness out of a good morning text too, removing the worry that he was crossing some new, unwritten boundaries of their relationship as they navigated their way around it.
She'd admitted casually that she liked waking up to a random fact, and that it always made her smile at how nerdy it was. So it had become the way they started off their days.
He wasn't sure how he could carry on texting her multiple times a day without mentioning the potentially-life and career changing opportunity he'd been offered though. He was also concerned that she would panic at the idea of him moving back to Boston for the long-term...and inevitably working together again. He didn't want her to shut him out once more.
He resolved that he'd speak to David, and perhaps Will, for a little guidance on how to approach the topic with Emma. Because he didn't wish to blindside her by just showing up and announcing that he'd officially moved to the city, but he also didn't want her to feel as though his career and life choices were based around her. He knew that would be too much to put on her, even if there was an element of truth to it, and it wasn't fair on either of them to essentially put the decision into her hands.
Emma, meanwhile, had started her work-mandated sessions with the Boston PD psychiatrist, Dr. Cleo Fox, a few days after her incident. She'd seen the same shrink before, as protocol necessitated, when she'd been shot on the job a few years earlier. She hadn't really taken any of it on board then though, and had simply said what she knew she needed to in order to get signed off and return to work as soon as possible. She was pretty sure Dr. Fox knew that too.
But this time, she'd decided to take it more seriously. She'd been through a lot, as everyone kept kindly pointing out, and her tendency was to bury it and hide behind her work as a way to avoid dealing with it. But she'd scared herself when she'd accidentally overdosed by drinking way too much alcohol with her pain medication. She was never careless like that. And she didn't want to end up doing something stupid again because everything she'd buried and tried to ignore came back to bite her all at once.
She needed to deal with it. And walking into the psychiatrist's office, knowing she was going to take the process seriously this time and try to start properly healing from a lifetime's worth of emotional wounds, was one of the most terrifying things she'd ever done.
It didn't come naturally to her, opening up to a shrink. But, after a few of the twice-weekly sessions, Emma began to get a little more comfortable with Cleo. There were still plenty of bumps in the road, but she was encouraged not to see it as a weakness if she broke down when she talked about traumatic experiences. Her nightmares had returned with a vengeance for a few weeks after she began to open up, but they were starting to settle again, and that felt like a small victory.
She told Cleo about Killian, too. About how his leaving, though she'd known it was inevitable, had hurt her more than she'd wanted to admit. She didn't label what she felt for him, and Cleo didn't push her to, but she was sure the woman with the doctorate in digging around in people's heads had figured it out easily enough.
They talked about her childhood (and yes, she may have rolled her eyes when that was brought up for the first time in one of the early sessions) and it did have relevance when it came to discussing and dissecting her coping strategies; they talked about her support system, and how her work colleagues and her boss had become the family that she'd never had. They talked about things in her past that she still struggled to discuss with anyone, and how those experiences shaped how she dealt with things in the present.
They talked about how she was coping with the recovery from her injuries, what she went through at Neal's hands in the cabin, and how she was processing the first time meeting her son, considering the traumatic circumstances that such a significant moment had occurred in.
They talked quite a lot about her relationships - romantic, platonic and everything in between. Neal was a large part of many conversations, because he'd had such an impact on her life in so many ways. But Killian was mentioned often, too.
She hadn't wanted to go out or meet anyone for one nighters for a long while (since she met Killian, if she was being honest with herself and with Cleo). And she did admit to wondering if Killian had moved on yet. It hurt to even think about the idea of him being with anyone else, but she got flustered and quickly shot down the notion that maybe she was 'waiting for him', when Cleo suggested it.
Dr. Fox was somewhat blunt with her honesty, and didn't shy away from exploring sensitive and difficult topics. It was a trait that Emma appreciated. She hated feeling as though she was being coddled or pitied, and she hadn't felt that way in any of the sessions. She supposed that's why she'd connected with Cleo on a level where she felt able to open up, even when she sometimes broke down during sessions.
So, when Cleo brought up Killian, which happened most of the time, she'd been wary of saying too much, because she wasn't sure if she was really ready to explore and admit what he meant to her. Not now that he was gone. She'd admitted that they'd started texting, and were going to remain friends, but Cleo hadn't looked entirely convinced. Emma had changed the subject quickly, and was relieved she hadn't been challenged about that.
A few weeks into the sessions, when Emma had mentioned their new morning routine of random fact texts, Emma had pointedly avoided the gaze of her shrink, already knowing the pointed look that would be trained on her.
"They're just...friendly texts. The normal kinds of texts friends send each other. You're reading too much into it."
Emma had insisted, indignant and just a little flustered as her cheeks flushed. Cleo made a point not to scribble on her notepad very much in Emma's sessions, because she'd noticed the way the young detective shifted uncomfortably everytime she did during their first few sessions. So she limited it. But Emma could hear her scribbling something and making a non-committal noise, so she sighed.
"You're gonna tell me I'm hung up on him and that the lines are gonna get blurred now that we're texting every day."
"Your words, not mine, Emma."
Cleo replied archly. Emma shot her a withering glare and slumped back on the sofa in defeat.
"I...I want to talk to him. I want to read his stupid, nerdy little facts and hear how his cases are going and...feel like I'm still in his life, somehow. I guess."
"You're getting good at this self-analysis. You'll be after my job soon. And I'd say you've already acknowledged why you're essentially dipping your toe in the waters of entering into a long-distance relationship-"
"That's not what it is," Emma quickly cut in, "I'm not-...it's not like that. It's all just surface stuff we talk about. His work and TV shows we're watching and that kinda thing. There's no...other stuff."
"Emotional stuff, you mean?"
Emma hesitated, but finally nodded. Cleo put her pen down and folded her hands in her lap, smiling serenely.
"There's intimacy in the conversations you're having, whether you talk about 'surface stuff' or deep, philosophical and meaningful stuff. It's a way of being close to him without physically being able to be."
"So you think I should cut him off and stop talking to him every day?"
Her voice wavered slightly, and she swallowed, averting her eyes to the clock in an effort to avoid Cleo's analytical gaze once more. The idea of losing the one thing she looked forward to each day now made her heart sink.
"No, that's absolutely not what I'm saying, Emma. You're seeking the intimacy you had with him before, even if it's without the romantic, physical strings attached...and that's good. The last time you had your heart broken, you shut down for years. You didn't let anyone close again, in any capacity, for a long time. This time, you're reaching out and allowing yourself to be vulnerable again - which takes a lot of strength and bravery - even just by maintaining a friendship with Killian. So, no, I'm not saying cut him off at all. I'm applauding your growth. I'm proud of how far you've come, Emma."
Emma stared at her in shock, not expecting any of that. She didn't know how to respond, but she was saved by the bell, because her session was up. Cleo gave her 'homework' of thinking about boundaries and expectations - how she set them, and her strategies for managing them. Even just spending time on the kind of self-analysis that Cleo 'prescribed' her each week was draining, but Emma could grudgingly admit that she was starting to get something from it.
But as she left the office that day, she didn't feel emotionally exhausted, the way she usually did. She felt...invigorated. There were few times anyone had told her they were proud of her. David and Will were the only ones who'd ever said that to her. She felt a little silly, the fact that one little sentence could have such an impact on her, but knowing that the work she was putting in, to help herself heal from the wounds of her past, was actually getting her somewhere...it felt good.
And all she could think about was how she wanted to share it with Killian. Shoving that thought down, she headed for Granny's, her stomach rumbling and distracting her from grabbing her phone and reaching out. Baby steps, she told herself.
CS
She had a quick lunch at Granny's, where the old woman fussed over her and insisted it was on the house. Ruby shirked her waitresssing duties to sit and chat with her as she waited for her food, and it felt nice to have a slice of normalcy back. She just couldn't wait for the next step in that process - getting back to work.
She had a physical with HR the following week, to check her wounds had all healed properly, and then it was just up to her shrink to sign her off. She had a good feeling about that, but she was also glad that she had the option of continuing with therapy...something she never thought she'd choose to attend without it being mandatory.
When she got home after lunch, she found herself still itching to text Killian. Cleo's encouragements echoed in her mind. So, with her heart beating just a little faster than usual, she pulled up his messages, smiling as she reread their exchange from that morning.
"Good morning, love. Did you know that koalas have fingerprints very similar to human ones?"
"We better not tell the criminals. They'll start saying koalas framed them next."
"Wouldn't like to be a DA on that case. No one is going to convict a koala. They're far too cute."
Emma huffed a laugh, shaking her head and typing out her text. Killian knew she'd started the mandatory therapy sessions, after she'd mentioned it in passing before switching to lighter topics to avoid the conversation getting too deep. He'd wished her luck, and mentioned that he too had had to go through a few weeks of it in order to be officially cleared for taking back the reins at the BAU again. But he hadn't elaborated, and nor had he pushed her to, which she'd appreciated.
Since then, she hadn't mentioned anything about what she discussed with Cleo, or how it was going. And he'd made a point of not asking. He probably knew that if she didn't bring it up, she didn't want to talk about it. So now, she supposed, she was ready to talk about it, and let their conversation become just a little bit more layered than the 'strictly surface stuff' they'd hovered around up until that point.
"Had a good therapy session today. How's your day been?"
She kept it short and sweet, and then busied herself with household chores for the next few hours. He didn't usually reply while he was at work, and she wouldn't admit to throwing numerous side-long glances at the clock while she cleaned the stove and rearranged her pantry.
A little after 6pm, as she stirred a saucepan of ramen on the stove that she'd decided to cook for dinner, her phone alerted her to a text. She grabbed for it, a smile unconsciously lighting up her face as she saw Killian's name on her screen announcing his response.
"I'm glad to hear that, Swan. My day has been rather good. We closed another case, so another scumbag is off the streets. And the big bosses are happy."
"That's great. You must be feeling good. I am too."
"I haven't heard you say that before. I'm happy for you, darling."
Emma realized she was smiling down at her phone then, her gaze lingering over the term of endearment he so often used, and she could practically hear the soft lilt of his voice in her mind. It made her feel warm all over, and before she could second guess herself, she typed a reply that she would have absolutely deleted even just that morning.
But dammit, she was feeling good.
"I'd be happier if you were here with me ;)"
She added the winking emoji onto the end for good measure, and then held her breath as soon as she hit send, waiting for the regret to wash over her. The typing bubble appeared, and then disappeared. And again. Her heart was pounding, and she was definitely starting to regret it, when he finally replied.
"You would?"
Emma couldn't help but smile. He was tentatively checking she was sure of where this was going.
"Yeah."
"In that case...I'd make sure you were 'happy', Swan. You know that ;)"
All the air left her lungs in one big exhale of relief, a grin on her face as he sent a string of smirking emojis immediately after. She could so easily picture that smirk of his in her mind; the way he unconsciously touched his bottom lip with his tongue as his gaze raked over her.
Her whole body flushed, breath catching in her throat. One flirty text and she was already keyed up. This was new territory for them, and she wondered if he felt as nervous and tentative as she did. She instinctively knew he was going to let her lead this whole thing, the way he had in every aspect of their relationship. He'd take what she felt comfortable giving, and wouldn't ask her for more than what she gave first. She wasn't sure if that reassured her or made her more nervous though, when it came to all of this.
But she knew he was probably holding his breath waiting for her to respond, second guessing his reply and hoping he hadn't overstepped the boundaries that were slowly being moved. After all, she'd done the same when she sent the first text.
"I've thought about it enough to know that, yeah."
"What exactly have you thought about, love? Care to share with the class?"
"You. Us."
The room suddenly felt too hot, and Emma bit her lip as she imagined his voice, a sinful purr, whispering his words in her ear. She'd never been so turned on by two simple text messages. She wondered if he was as affected as she was, but she knew the answer to that, if she was being honest with herself.
"I think about you and us every night, Emma ;)"
Even just seeing her name, and imagining the way his voice wrapped around it, low and silky smooth with an edge of desperation, made her breathing just a little shaky.
"I have to go take a shower now."
Before she overthought it, she added a second text, partly because she was feeling brave, and partly because she didn't want him to think she was bolting via text message.
"Luckily I have a waterproof shower 'friend' though ;)"
As soon as she'd hit send, she clapped a hand over her mouth, unable to believe she'd really been so brazen. She could imagine him choking on his own tongue when he read that, and couldn't help the little giggle that escaped her.
"Bloody fucking hell, Swan."
Was all he replied, and she couldn't deny it was a rush, knowing she'd wrecked him with just a few flirty, suggestive texts. As nervous as she felt about this new territory they were exploring in their tentative attempt at staying in touch, it was also addictive. She didn't want him to just be a friend-with-benefits, via text, though. She genuinely liked talking to him, liked him in general, and she was also still a little wary after being so hurt by him leaving.
Texts were safe. She felt braver than she knew she would in person, and even over a phonecall. She just had to make sure she didn't go too far. If they ended up working together again, at some point, she didn't want her walls to fly up and to feel mortified by what she'd said to him on a phone screen.
But he'd seen her naked a dozen times. He'd got to know her body just as well as she did, maybe even more. He'd heard every noise she made and seen how she looked in the throes of passion. So why did the idea of seeing him again after admitting that she thought of him, and the things he'd done to her, when she brought herself some...stress relief, suddenly make her feel like a shy teenager?
She put her phone on her bedside table to charge, and headed for the bathroom. She paused in the doorway and glanced at her dresser, where her handful of toys lived. She could picture what Killian would be doing now, with the mental images she'd so brazenly given him, and it made her hot all over. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, but then pulled open the second drawer of the dresser and found her favorite toy.
After her shower, which was definitely a little longer than it needed to be, Emma fell into bed with a smile on her face. Deciding to send one last text before she fell asleep, she grabbed her phone.
"I'm going to bed now. Sweet dreams, Killian."
He replied immediately, and she couldn't help but wonder if he'd been lying in bed thinking of her, while she'd been thinking of him in the shower.
"With you in the starring role? Always. Sleep well, darling."
CS
When Killian woke up the next morning, he wondered if he'd dreamed up the conversation with Emma. Checking his messages, just to make sure, he was relieved to find that it really had happened. Her slightly cautious steps into flirting had taken him by surprise, to say the least, but had been the highlight of his whole week.
He debated whether or not to send his usual random fact to start off their day, and decided to do so, not wanting her to worry that what they'd said last night had changed the dynamic when they'd just been getting comfortable with talking to each other again.
"Good morning, beautiful. Did you know that cherophobia is an irrational fear of fun?"
He didn't mention their conversation, or the implied actions it had inspired, from the night before. If she regretted it, then she wouldn't have to be reminded of what they'd said, and it also avoided the potential rejection of her shutting him down. No, he'd let her set the pace and follow her lead.
"Guess that's what David has then."
She replied a short time later, and Killian couldn't help chuckling out loud. Her quick, dry wit was one of the many things he loved about her. He wished he could call her, just to hear her voice again, but knew that would most definitely be crossing their uncertain boundaries. And he wanted to avoid scaring her off as much as possible. So, he'd be patient, and hope that one day soon, she'd take that step forward and he'd get to hear her voice down the phone. On her terms.
They fell into an easy back-and-forth with their messages then, while he got ready for work and she went about her morning routine. He hadn't mentioned the job offer looming over his head, but he reminded himself to call Will or David at lunchtime, suspecting that the latter had something to do with the new BAU office being set up in the first place.
The fact that Emma seemed to be getting more comfortable with talking to him each day now gave him a bit of reassurance. But he was still going to take a bit longer before accepting or declining the job, to weigh up the pros and cons. If he was being completely honest with himself, the only con would be starting from scratch with a new team.
Most of his current team had homes and families; they wouldn't want to move to an entirely new city, a new state, at the drop of a hat. He fired off an email to the director's secretary anyway, to question whether or not he could extend the opportunity to any of his team, if any of them were willing to make the move with him, should he accept.
Elsa and Anna were the only two who didn't have immediate ties to the local area, and the only team members Killian thought were most likely to accept the offer. They'd joined the BAU six months earlier; Elsa as an experienced Communications Liaison with five years under her belt in the NSU, and Anna as an intern, fresh out of the Academy, eager to earn her stripes, and to follow in her sister's footsteps.
If they were keen to accept the offer, and he ultimately decided to jump in and take the job in Boston, he could make the case to the FBI Director that it would be easier for him to set up a team if he had at least one or two people he knew and trusted from the get-go. He could be convincing.
When he arrived at the office, everyone was already there, congregating in the bullpen. Anna jumped up from where she was perched on the edge of her desk, rushing over with a look of concern on her face.
"Sir, the FBI Director was just here asking to see you…"
"Anna, you know you don't have to call me Sir. And yeah, I had a feeling he might come chasing me."
Killian sighed, running a hand through his hair. The Director was clearly keen to get his answer and start the ball rolling, one way or another, and his email that morning had no doubt sounded as though he was airing on the side of accepting the job.
He slowly followed Anna over to the rest of the team, knowing he had to have 'the talk' with them now, before his possible transfer became common knowledge. It wasn't fair for them to find out through water cooler gossip.
"There's something I need to talk to you all about-"
"Lancelot thinks you're leaving. You're not leaving, are you? I mean, you only just got back, and this team is awesome the way it is and-"
Anna had cut him off, rambling the way she usually did, and Lance cleared his throat, throwing a pointed glare at her. Anna had called him 'Lancelot' since her first day, and unfortunately for him, it had stuck. So much so that the whole team often called him that accidentally now. He'd given up correcting everyone after a few months.
"Well...I've been given an offer. The Bureau wants to open more BAU offices outside of Quantico, which I think we've all known for awhile now. It's common knowledge how successful this unit is, and a lot of the local PDs we've worked with, in cities that have federal units too, have expressed an interest in having their own local BAUs within those units."
Anna looked as though she might cry, while the others all looked thoughtful and understanding. He'd spoken with Graham before about how an expanding BAU network might impact their team. He'd also asked his second-in-command if a recommendation for unit chief at another BAU would be something he'd want. Because Killian knew Graham could handle it, and that he'd be a damn good SSA if given the chance. The Boston case had only proven that.
But now, it seemed that the recommendation he'd write wouldn't be to put Graham in charge of another unit. It would be to take over the reins from himself, for good. It was bittersweet, but it felt like a natural progression.
"Have you accepted the offer?"
Elsa asked softly. Killian shook his head.
"Not yet. That's why the Director's on my heels. He's given me two weeks to think about it, but I know he wants an answer sooner rather than later. And in my heart, I think I know what I want to do. But I also wanted to ask him if the offer is open for you lot, too. It's not a requirement, let me make that clear. I know a lot of you have homes and families here, and uprooting your lives for another city isn't practical, or something you'd want to do. Which is fine. It's good. This unit needs to keep running, and I doubt the Director would be happy to have to replace the entirety of the best unit Quantico has," he smiled at their quiet chuckles, "But one or two of you...I think he'd sign off on that. And I have a bit of room for negotiation on the terms, if I accept the offer."
Elsa and Anna glanced at each other, and then back at Killian. He didn't miss the brief exchange, and made a mental note to speak with them about potentially making the move with him. He knew it was a big ask, but the offer couldn't hurt.
"Where's the offer for? Where are they moving you?"
Merida piped up. She was always suspicious of the political moves of the Director, so no doubt she secretly thought he was being moved as some kind of punishment. He took a deep breath, knowing that the penny would drop for a lot of them once he told them where he was potentially moving to.
"It's for a new BAU office at the MBI...in Boston."
There was a beat of silence, and Killian could practically see the cogs turning in their minds.
"You have to say yes then."
Belle finally spoke up, a determination in her tone that he rarely heard from her. His eyebrows shot up and she smiled at him as she continued.
"It's fate, Killian. You have to accept the offer. You know there's a lot more for you there than you'll find here, and you'll regret it for the rest of your life if you give up on her-" she paused, eyes widening as she quickly corrected herself with a sheepish smile, "I mean...if you give up the offer."
There were a few knowing glances exchanged between the team, and Killian could feel the tips of his ears burning as he attempted to look impassive but fell short.
"As I said, I haven't decided yet whether to take it or not. I have a few things I need to look into first, but I promise that once I've made a decision either way, you'll all hear it from me first. But for today, seeing as we don't have a new case at this point, we all need to catch up on the filing and documentation for the last few cases. Then, provided no urgent cases come in, and seeing as it's Friday, I'm going to say we all knock off a little early today, and grab some dinner and drinks. It's been a heavy few weeks with the consecutive cases, and you've all worked your arses off. First round of drinks is on me tonight."
CS
"Killian, this is a pleasant surprise. How are things?"
Killian couldn't help but smile at the overly nonchalant way David answered the phone. He'd been expecting the call, no doubt.
"Mhmm, I'm sure it's a surprise, Dave," he chuckled, "And things are...interesting. I was called in to see the Director of the FBI, who offered me a new job, heading up a new BAU branch. At the MBI. You wouldn't, by chance, know anything about that, would you, mate?"
"Me?!" David spluttered, his feigned shock amusing Killian, "I don't know what you're talking about, Jones. Sounds like you've impressed someone high up on the food chain. You've accepted the offer, I take it?"
He hesitated. His heart had accepted the offer. His head wasn't quite there yet. He needed to make sure he wouldn't be stepping on any toes (namely Emma's), in light of the fact that his new BAU team would no doubt be working with the Homicide unit on a regularly basis. He didn't need her permission, per say. But he wanted to at least make sure it wouldn't cause unnecessary ructions. Not when they were just getting back into a good place.
"Not yet. It's a pretty big move, and I'll have to weigh things up-"
"Right," David chuckled, sounding somewhat unconvinced, "Anything I can help with? Because if one of those things you have to think about starts with an E, I think it'll be good for both of you to have another chance to figure things out. And you need your heads banging together, if you ask me."
David sighed then before he continued, and Killian could imagine him running a hand through his hair as he leaned back in his office chair.
"Look. As Emma loves to point out and chastise me for, I can be a little...protective. And at first, I didn't like the idea of you two getting close, especially not while you were undercover. You were a distraction she didn't need, and I was worried about you breaking her heart. But the more I saw you together, and...the things I heard her confide in you one night...Jones, she doesn't open up easily. But she opened up to you. I found out things about her, from things she said to you, that she hadn't told me in all the years I've known her. And I know things have been rocky since you left - I won't lie, I wanted to hunt you down and put your balls in a jar when Will told me you'd left the way you did - but she's in a lot better place now. I've seen her smile and laugh more in the last few weeks than I have in a long while. And I suspect that has something to do with smoothing things over with you."
Killian fumbled for a response, losing his ability to form coherent sentences when put on the spot after such an impassioned speech.
"How did you-...she said something about us?"
He finally said, surprised that Emma had mentioned him to the man who was pretty much the only family she'd ever had. His heart stuttered. Maybe it did mean as much to her as it did to him. Did he dare hope?
"She slipped up the other day and mentioned that you two had been talking," Killian could practically hear David's smile down the line, "And of course, she shut down any questions Will and I attempted to ask, but how flustered she was told us plenty. She's happier with you in her life. That's what we see, anyway."
Killian's heart was racing, and he couldn't deny how happy he felt hearing that from David. It made him more sure of the decision he had to make, and helped his head catch up with his heart in that respect.
"Do you think I should call her and tell her about the offer first? I don't want her to hear about it from someone else, and feel like I betrayed her trust again. And I don't want to overwhelm her by just showing up unannounced to drop the bombshell that I've upped and moved to Boston…"
He sighed, pacing across his office just to work off the energy from restless legs. David paused on the other end of the line for a few seconds, clearly weighing up the options.
"Well, if you want my opinion...tell her in person. And I think we might have the perfect opportunity for you to do so…"
CS
When he arrived home from the office, after stopping by the Director's office to give him the answer he was impatiently waiting for, he had to resist the urge to call Emma. They weren't at that stage yet. Text messages were a 'safe zone'. He would simply have to employ that impressive willpower he possessed, and wait for her to make that step forward. That didn't mean he wouldn't crave hearing her voice again every day until she took that step.
He had about an hour to shower, change, and head out for dinner with his team, but as though on cue when he'd walked through the door and loosened his tie, his phone alerted him to a new text.
He knew his face lit up everytime her name popped up on his phone. He couldn't help it.
"My therapist said she's gonna recommend that I can go back to work in another week! Oh, and hi."
Emma's enthusiastic text made him smile adoringly at his screen. She'd been in a good mood for the last few weeks. Some days, he could tell her therapy sessions had been particularly gruelling, and she was a little flatter in her responses. But she didn't like talking about it, so he respected that and didn't press her.
There had been less bad days, and more lighthearted texts, lately though. And it made his own days brighter knowing that she was happy. Even if it was just a little bittersweet that he only got to be a part of it through words in a chat box.
"I'm very happy to hear that, lass. You seem happier lately. I'm glad the therapy is working well for you."
"It is. I'm gonna carry on seeing her even though she's signing me off. I feel good. She even told me she was proud of me. Probably stupid that I apparently got so much validation from that lol."
Killian stared at her words, knowing that it took a lot for Emma to admit anything like that. She'd never mentioned her therapy sessions in any more detail than a passing comment that she'd just been to a session or had one booked for that day.
"It's not stupid to feel proud of your accomplishments, and feel good when they're acknowledged, darling. Don't put yourself down. Therapy isn't easy. And I'm proud of you, too, for what it's worth."
He sent it before he could reread his reply and pick it apart. There was always a risk that a deeper conversation could send her running, but he had to trust that the work she'd mentioned doing in her therapy sessions was moving her boundaries, at least a little. He wanted her to know he was proud of her. And at some point, they had to test the waters of 'proper' conversations.
But still, his heart was racing as he began to undress, ready for his shower, mostly in an effort to distract himself from waiting with baited breath and watching the typing bubble until she replied. He'd just wrapped towel around his waist when his phone alerted him to her text.
"Thank you, Killian. But enough about my stuff, what's going on with you?"
He breathed a small sigh of relief that she hadn't shut him down or simply stopped replying. But her change of subject was a clear signal that she didn't want him to push any further tonight. He obliged her.
"I just got in from work, about to take a shower. I'm going out for dinner with my team this evening, to celebrate closing so many cases this past month."
"That sounds good. You guys deserve it. I'm Marie Kondo'ing my apartment right now and Netflix and Chilling by myself tonight. I've been looking forward to it all week, how sad is that lol."
Killian couldn't help but smirk as a decidedly R-rated image flashed through his mind, and his body reacted immediately. He couldn't tell whether she'd phrased her text that way purposefully, but his mind had immediately gone there. He bit his lip.
"Netflix and Chill is always a good idea, love ;)"
He sent back, and then, with his heart racing again at his risqué reply, he busied himself with putting his work clothes in the laundry and picking out clothes for that night.
When his phone beeped with a text alert a few long minutes later, he grabbed it immediately, and he couldn't unlock it fast enough when he saw she'd apparently sent a photo this time. With trembling hands, he opened the message.
It was a picture of one of his old FBI Academy shirts, that he often wore to bed. The accompanying message said,
"Look what I just found. I think you forgot something. My couch ate it, apparently. It was down the back of one of the cushions."
His smile faded just a little bit, worried that his flirting had been a bit much for her. He purposefully avoided any innuendo as he typed out a reply.
"I was wondering where that had gone. Luckily I have six more identical ones, so I'm sure I'll manage, somehow. Take good care of her, she's served me well."
He could picture Emma snorting at his humor and rolling her eyes. She didn't reply for a few minutes, and he was just about to assume she'd busied herself with other things when another photo started to download. When it popped up, Killian almost choked on his own tongue.
It was a selfie Emma had taken in the mirror in her bedroom. She had his Academy shirt on...and apparently not much, if anything, else. The shirt sat high on her thighs, and she had her hair down, pulled over one shoulder and a few strands twirled around her fingers. He couldn't see all of her face because of the angle at which she held her phone to take the picture, but he could see her coy smile, at least.
He found his body immediately responding again, to the tantalizing glimpse of her bare, toned legs, and the sight of her wearing his shirt. It took him a moment to focus enough to read the accompanying text and trio of angel emojis.
"Well I'm glad you don't need it back, because it's gonna be my new favorite sleep shirt. So thanks!"
He suspected she knew exactly what she was doing to him with her flirting and the teasing selfie. He made sure the picture was saved to his camera roll, staring at it with a heated gaze for a moment, and then replied.
"You are going to be the death of me, you little minx. I'm glad you have a new favourite sleep shirt, because I have a new favourite mental image to go to bed with tonight. You're a bloody tease, Swan ;)"
"Nah, teasing would be telling you what I'm doing right now."
He hardened even more, and he wasn't sure what had brought out this confident, flirty side of her, when he'd initially been worried he'd pushed too much, but he was thoroughly enjoying it. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he loosened the towel and took himself loosely in hand, enjoying the slight feeling of relief.
"I sincerely hope you'll take pity on a man and tell me…"
He gulped, seeing her reply bubble appear almost immediately as she typed. It felt like an endless wait for her response popped up.
"Just a bit of stress relief. The kind that makes your legs shake when you do it right."
"Fuck, Emma."
He cursed out loud too, deciding that she was giving him enough unspoken permission to not feel guilty as he moved his hand up and down quickly. His eyes fell closed and images Emma was inspiring danced behind his eyelids. She was a goddess, and his imagination would never do her justice, but it would have to suffice. He wasn't about to end this prematurely by spooking her and hitting the FaceTime button, no matter how desperately he wanted to watch her in real time.
"Well yeah, that's the plan, tiger."
Killian's breathing was ragged as he shuffled back to lay down on his bed, making himself comfortable as pleasure coursed through him. He might be late for dinner, but at that point, he didn't care.
"You're driving me crazy, darling. Are you still wearing my shirt?"
"Mhmm. Just your shirt."
Killian swallowed thickly, his imagination going wild as he pictured Emma lying on her bed, his shirt pulled up, as one hand working between her legs and the other playing with a breast. He groaned, desperate and wanting.
"Care to help a man out and elaborate, Swan?"
Instead of replying, she simply sent a picture of her lacy panties on the floor, and he bit the inside of his cheek. She was torturing him.
"You're touching yourself already, aren't you? I want you to imagine it's my hand between those gorgeous thighs of yours, Emma."
There was a long pause before the typing bubble appeared again, and he lazily stroked himself as he imagined her eyes going wide when she'd read his command. He liked to picture her chest heaving, and her breath catching, as she did as she was told, and lost herself in the mental image he'd given her for a few seconds.
He'd never sexted anyone before, but he knew that's what was happening. And it was a rush, knowing what she was doing to herself on the other end of the phone, and that she was fantasizing about him at the same time. It made him unbelievably hard, and he desperately wished he was there to watch her.
"God, yes. I wish it was. My toy isn't as good as your fingers."
Killian made a strangled sound at the back of his throat, as a bolt of white-hot heat shot through his whole body.
"Fucking hell. There's a toy?"
"Mhmm. It feels good against me. I wish it was your mouth though. The things you did to me with that mouth...fuck, Killian."
He was sure he was going to spontaneously combust, or lose it before she'd even had a chance to have one orgasm. And he wouldn't accept that. He wouldn't fall before he'd talked her into at least one release. So he doubled down.
"The taste of you drove me wild. I'd have your legs over my shoulders and I'd work my tongue over you, and inside you, until you couldn't take it any longer. Until you screamed my name and came hard for me. I love watching you and hearing you come for me. Do you have a toy you can fuck yourself with, my love?"
"Yes. Please don't stop."
He was breathing hard, and so close that he had to stop stroking himself altogether before it was game over. It made him groan in frustration, but he gritted his teeth. He needed her to come first. He needed to know she was shaking and crying out her release 600 miles away, before he could take his own.
"Spread your legs. Now. Press it inside of you and tell me how you feel. How you wish it was me, filling you up."
He couldn't believe he was saying all of this to her, and that she was reciprocating. At the back of his lust-fogged mind, he had a passing thought that he hoped she didn't regret this in the morning. But hadn't he felt the same when they'd physically slept together, too?
"I feel full. But not as full as when you fucked me. I think about you everytime I get myself off. And I wish it was you inside me right now, fucking me hard and fast and making me come over and over again."
Killian swore he was going to finish without even touching himself at the rate she was going. She'd only given him a little taste of her dirty talking abilities in bed, but behind a phone screen, she was giving him a run for his money. And he loved using his voice to make her lose control.
"I'll have you coming around my cock so hard you'll see stars, sweetheart. Love the feeling of you around me. With your legs shaking, and all those delicious moans falling from your lips. I'll swallow those moans as you start to come, and just as you think I'm letting you come down, I'll press my fingers against your clit and push you straight into another one. Are you close, darling? Are you going to come for me?"
Suddenly, his phone started to vibrate with an incoming call from Emma, and Killian froze. Had she accidentally hit call as she lost herself in ecstasy? Should he answer, and listen to her moans, or would she feel like it was a violation if it was, indeed, an accidental call?
With his heart pounding so fast he was worried he might pass out, he accepted the call with a shaking jab if the green phone button, resolving that if it sounded like she wasn't aware he was there, he'd hang up immediately. But he couldn't not answer...just in case it wasn't an accident.
"Swan?"
He said softly. She answered with a moan and his erection strained painfully against his stomach.
"God, Killian, I need your voice. Please...talk to me. Make me come."
So…not an accidental call, apparently. His voice was shaky and strained when he finally found it.
"Bloody fucking hell, darling, do you know how hot this is? I'm hard as a fucking rock."
"I need you inside me, Killian. It feels so good..."
He took himself in hand once more, slowly pumping up and down, biting down hard on his lip at the potent pleasure building low in his belly.
"I want your mouth on me first, love. That wicked mouth on my cock, taking me all the way to the back of your throat til you gag. You're so fucking good at that, Swan. And then I want to turn you over onto your belly, press you down onto the bed and sink into your tight, wet heat from behind, grabbing your delectable arse in both hands and fucking you so hard and fast that you'll feel me there for days after. I know you like that, darling. And I know you like when I reach round and press my fingers between your legs to push you over the edge, just the way you need it. God, you feel like heaven when you come around me, Emma. Are you going to come for me?"
Emma cried out on the other end of the line, and Killian closed his eyes, throwing his head back onto his pillow and feeling his release tingling at the bottom of his spine.
"Y-yes! I-I'm...I'm so close…"
"I'm close too, darling," he admitted shakily, before his voice dropped once again to a silky purr, "I know you love how it feels when you come around my cock. And how you can feel it when I'm coming deep inside of you. You love it when I fill you up, don't you? It feels so good, Emma. You feel so good. Come for me. Now."
The scream of his name on the other end of the phone was his undoing, and his release shot across his belly and his hand, as a guttural groan along with an agonized whisper of her name tore from his lips. With his eyes closed, he listened to Emma's subsiding whimpers and waited for his legs to stop shaking.
He felt almost delirious. And he wasn't entirely sure that he wouldn't wake up any second to realize it had all been an extremely erotic and vivid dream.
"Killian?" Emma finally spoke, her voice soft and just a little bit wary, "You still there?"
"Aye, love. Just...recovering."
He chuckled, his skin tingling pleasantly in the afterglow as he reached for the box of tissues in his bedside drawer. He felt a small wave of apprehension, as he waited for what she might say next. Would she make an excuse and get off the line as quickly as possible, embarrassed by what they'd just done as the endorphins ebbed away? He hoped not.
"I'm sorry for calling you like that, without any warning. I...uh, I guess I got a bit caught up in...whatever we're gonna call that."
He could hear the nervousness in her voice, which mirrored how he also felt about this new territory they'd found themselves exploring.
"Don't apologize, Swan. It was a very pleasant surprise. It's good to hear your voice. I was worried you'd called me accidentally. I'm glad that wasn't the case. I...very much enjoyed myself. And I hope you did too. It sounded like you did…"
She laughed breathlessly and the sound made her heart stutter. God, he missed her.
"Yeah, you could say that. Thank you…for the orgasm," she laughed again, "There's no way to say that without it sounding weird. But yeah, uh...it was...good. Really good. But I've probably made you late for dinner. Sorry about that."
She sounded apologetic, but he could also hear the smile in her voice, and he realized he was grinning like a fool, as he lay naked on his bed, body still feeling pleasantly heavy with afterglow.
"My dinner plans were the last thing on my mind during that, believe me," Killian chuckled, "You have an impressively filthy mouth on you, darling. And you're welcome, for the orgasm. I wouldn't be opposed to a repeat, if you ever want to call me again for stress relief. Or text, if you were more comfortable with that."
Emma laughed again, and he could hear how blissed out she sounded. It made his heart skip a beat. He'd made her feel like that, even with so many miles between them.
"I'm definitely relieved of stress. And I...maybe...wouldn't be opposed to doing this again,"
She sounded shy, and he wasn't accustomed to hearing that tone from her, but it was endearing.
"I'd like that a lot, Swan. It was...uh, my first time, if you will."
Emma paused, taking a few seconds to understand what he was saying.
"Well, you got the hang of it pretty damn fast. But you know what they say. Pick a partner who knows what she's doing."
She laughed lightly, and Killian could hear that sound for the rest of his days and still not be able to get enough of it.
"Oh…"
He replied softly, unsure what to say, and Emma sounded a little flustered then.
"I didn't mean-...I've never done that before either. This was my first phone sex as well. I'd say it went well for both of us."
She was laughing again, the not-wholly-unpleasant nervousness making them both a little jittery as they adjusted to the new developments in their relationship.
"Well, you know what they say, love. You never forget your first."
"Ha, yeah, I don't think either of us are gonna forget any of this," Emma sighed softly then, "Okay, so...I'm gonna go now and let you get ready for dinner. I've already made you late enough. I'll...maybe call you tomorrow?"
Killian was grinning, his heart full. He certainly hadn't expected his evening to play out the way it had when he'd got home from the office. And he wasn't complaining.
"I'll look forward to it, Swan."
"Alright...I'll speak to you tomorrow then. Goodnight, Killian. And thanks for the stress relief."
He chuckled at her light, teasing tone and the slight edge of shyness laced into it, despite the fact that they'd literally just had phone sex.
"Goodnight, my love."
CS