This is some utter ridiculousness, I won't lie. TWO scenes, and it's a wholeass book on its own at 11K+ words!
Tori and Irene are, as always, terrible enablers and this is all partly their fault.
Prepare for a rollercoaster of emotions. I regret nothing.
TW for therapy discussions of statutory rape, dubcon involving teenage Emma etc.
Basically, if Emma's past is triggering for you, this probably will be, because there's in-depth discussion of it.
Also: "butt stuff" features late in the chapter, in case that squicks you out!
Your Case or Mine
Chapter 27
"I can't lie, doc, I feel like shit and I would definitely rather still be in bed right now."
Emma said as she walked through the door of her therapist's office at 9am and flopped down dramatically on the couch, throwing her arm over her face and groaning. She was battling the worst hangover she'd had since her teens; cocktails always ended badly.
But, despite her pounding head and the rolling waves of nausea that reminded her far too much of a different aspect of her teenage years, she still couldn't quite hide the sparkle in her eyes and the contentment in her whole demeanor.
Dr. Fox noticed, of course, and smiled as she watched Emma for a moment, one eyebrow raised in amusement. Emma had become one of her favorite clients - though she'd never admit out loud to having favorites - partly because of how incredibly well she was progressing over the weeks, despite getting nowhere with her on the previous occasions she'd attended a few years earlier. But also, partly, because she was still such an enigma.
She'd been through more than most, and she had an armory full of unhealthy coping mechanisms that she'd developed through necessity and an incredible survival instinct, no doubt. There were parts of her that were still firmly rooted in adolescent behaviors - her dietary habits and her tendency to instinctively fight against authority figures or overprotective displays from people who cared about her, for example. But in other ways, she was old-headed. Serious, analytical - despite a fiery temper - and a lot smarter than most people gave her credit for, Cleo suspected.
As the weeks had gone on, she'd seen Emma progress and become a lot more self-aware and critical of her less-than-stellar defence mechanisms, which Cleo was sure she wouldn't have previously thought twice about. She'd been extremely closed-off and mistrustful, and for the first few sessions, it had been a struggle to bring her around to the idea that talking about her walls, and how she used them to protect herself, was the only way she'd begin to heal her wounds and scars.
She'd become more willing to step out of her comfort zone as Cleo gained her trust, with tentative steps that initially took a lot of metaphorical hand-holding, and eventually to the point they were at now, where she would take the initiative herself and blurt out (often rather gracelessly) what she wanted to tackle in that session.
It started with casual comments, like the week previously, when she'd been frustrated by a physio session where she hadn't felt she'd made the progress she'd wanted to. And then it progressed to verbalizing clearly that she wanted to talk about Killian, or Neal, or work, in particular, during a session.
She still had a long way to go though, and Cleo had been relieved and extremely pleased when Emma had offhandedly commented that she wanted to continue her sessions even after being signed off to return to work.
She encouraged her, and said she would be more than happy to continue scheduling weekly, or twice weekly, sessions for as long as she felt she was getting something from it. There would be plenty things for them to continue working on, and Cleo was pleased to see how seriously she was taking it this time around.
She had high hopes for Emma being one of her biggest success stories. She could see clearly the way she was beginning to blossom from the suspicious, guarded and wholly sceptical woman-child with major commitment and abandonment issues...into someone who was allowing herself to challenge her own coping practices and even fall in love again (though she wasn't yet able to verbally acknowledge that).
"Is this self-inflicted, by any chance?"
Cleo asked, amused, and Emma lifted her arm from covering her face long enough to shoot a withering glare at her from where she lay sprawled on the couch.
"You sound like I imagine a mom would sound. Stop it. I'm a grown woman. I can go out and get a little tipsy with my friends if I want to."
She mumbled into her arm, but her sassy retort lacked any real anger or frustration. Cleo knew that if she truly wasn't feeling up to a session, Emma would have called and either 'fessed up to her hungover state, or made up a convincing excuse to get out of it. The fact that she'd shown up told Cleo that she was able and willing to engage, despite not appearing eager to do so.
So, she gave her time. And a glass of water with some Advil. Both were appreciated.
"I take it you enjoyed the evening, at least?"
Cleo finally said, earning a slightly wary glance from Emma.
"Yeah...I guess it turned out pretty good. Why do you ask?"
No matter how engaged she was in the sessions, or how invested she was in improving her psychological well-being, there was always an edge of suspicion and wariness whenever Cleo asked what Emma perceived to be a loaded question. There was a hyper-awareness of any answer she gave being psychoanalyzed and explored in a lot more detail than she was usually comfortable with, and it was something Cleo knew would take a long time to stop being an instinct for her.
"You seem happy, that's all. You said it turned out pretty good - didn't it start out that way?"
Emma rolled her eyes and groaned, reluctantly (and slowly, to avoid vomiting all over the expensive upholstery) sitting up from her sprawled position. She folded her arms, looking all the world like a pouty teenager. One who was just a little worse for wear.
"I know they pay you the big bucks to be annoyingly perceptive, but do you have to be so good at it?"
Cleo chuckled, but simply waited for an answer to her question, knowing that Emma was the master of avoidance and could easily redirect the conversation if given the opportunity. With a sigh, the blonde ran a hand through her unkempt curls.
"Well...I met my friends at The Grand, and we did have fun. I let a guy buy us drinks, and I figured, well, it wouldn't hurt to have someone to dance with, seeing as my two friends I was there with are dating and they were dancing together."
"You felt like a third wheel?"
"No, I didn't. But I just...I don't know," she sighed, and hesitated for a moment before continuing, "I….I'd spoken to Killian on the phone before I went. He'd helped me pick my dress. Don't raise your eyebrows at me like that, okay? We were...flirting. And it made me feel good. I just...it's stupid. Forget it."
"You're doing really well, Emma," Cleo encouraged with a soft smile, "Take your time and use your words. Nothing you think or feel is stupid."
She nodded and took a steadying breath, but finally continued.
"I suppose I figured if I didn't look at the guy I was dancing with, I could just imagine it was Killian," she looked down at her knotted hands in her lap and clenched her jaw, "Which is stupid. Because he was just some random guy at a club, and he was handsy but I...I didn't discourage him. Until he tried to put his hand up my dress, and then I said no. I think I had some kind of panic attack, which felt horrible, like all the air was being squeezed out of my chest and I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears and I-I just...I needed to breathe. So I went to the bathroom and I was alright after a few minutes."
Emma shrugged, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. Cleo nodded thoughtfully.
"And your friends? Where were they at that point?"
"Ruby followed me to the bathroom. She's...kinda like you, sometimes. She's perceptive as hell and brutally honest. She...she said I hadn't done anything wrong. And I knew that."
With a frown, Cleo studied Emma for a moment.
"You mean by dancing with the guy? Why would you feel like you'd done something wrong?"
Emma swallowed, her cheeks flushing, and she took a moment to put her words together, stumbling over them slightly until they came out in a jumbled rush.
"I-I...she...Ruby asked if I felt like I was cheating and that's why I'd freaked out and I guess when I've thought about it maybe she was a little bit right and I know I wasn't cheating but it just felt all wrong and I've never felt that weird before, even when I've had guys grope me and be just generally gross, but that was...different and I-...I don't know why it freaked me out so much. Because I'm not with Killian and I can do whatever I want with whoever I want…"
There was a long beat of silence, and Emma slowly found Cleo's gentle gaze.
"But you don't want to."
Emma looked stricken for a moment, before her shoulders slumped in defeat and she dropped her gaze to her hands once more, shaking her head almost imperceptibly.
"Do you want to talk about that?"
"Not really, but I know you want me to."
Emma shot back. Cleo remained passive, folding her hands together.
"Let's start with how you were feeling when the guy showed interest in you at the bar. What would you usually do or feel in that situation?"
Emma shrugged, tugging at a loose thread on the end of her sleeve. When Cleo simply waited, she sighed in frustration.
"It depends what I went out for. If I was in the mood, I would've gone home with him, I suppose. If not, I would've told him straight up that I wasn't interested."
"And how about last night?"
"I…" Emma paused, her brow furrowing as she considered the question, "I felt weird about it but I guess I wanted to dance with someone. I think he was gonna try to kiss me though, and that's when I started to panic a bit. I didn't wanna kiss him. He was...handsy. Grabbing my ass and kissing my neck and stuff. I wasn't pushing him away at first though, so he wasn't...forcing me to do anything. I was letting him touch me. It was easier when I wasn't facing him. And I suppose that made me feel weird too, because even with my one nighters, I haven't been into letting them get so handsy in clubs or bars. Not in public. And then when he slid his hand up my dress, it was like my entire body just froze and I freaked out a bit. That's when I got out of there and ran off to the bathroom. It was stupid."
Cleo nodded slowly, taking in everything Emma had said and seeming to turn it over and analyze it all carefully in her head. After a few long moments, she spoke.
"Do you think you felt like you weren't in control of the situation from the beginning? From everything you've told me about your relationship with Killian, he's always followed your lead. He's let you set the pace. And it sounds as though the guy you were dancing with was the one making the first moves and going at a pace that made you feel uncertain."
"I...suppose. I was trying not to think about Killian though. That was kinda why I was dancing with some random guy."
Cleo smiled, as though she was politely disagreeing with Emma's defence.
"Or perhaps some part of you thought that having someone else's hands on you would be a good enough surrogate for the hands you wanted instead…"
Emma huffed, rolling her shoulders to relieve some of the tension she hadn't even realized had been building there, making her neck ache.
"You think I wanted to fool myself into feeling like it was Killian I was dancing with."
"Didn't you?"
Cleo challenged, and Emma swallowed thickly, the denial sticking in her throat and refusing to pass her lips. Confronting uncomfortable truths always had her shifting restlessly on the couch and unconsciously digging little crescents into her palms with her nails.
"I...I don't know," she admitted tersely, "I wasn't thinking that hard about it. Maybe I just didn't like how fast he was going and that he was touching me the way he was in public. It's not exactly unreasonable to feel like that."
"Of course it isn't. But you strike me as someone who's more than capable and willing to defend herself in that situation. You said yourself, it was the first time you'd panicked, and even had a panic attack, when facing something like that. Do you ever remember feeling that sense of powerlessness and uncertainty in a situation with men before?"
Emma shrank back into herself a little then, and Cleo could practically see her trying to pull up those old familiar walls of hers. She'd hit a nerve.
"You know I do," she replied flatly, staring at an invisible spot on the floor until she eventually raised a blank gaze to meet Cleo's, "Neal made me feel like that."
"We haven't talked about him in a few sessions," Cleo said softly, watching Emma's expression carefully, "Do you think we can explore that? I know he's a subject you don't like revisiting, but he's made one of the biggest impacts of anyone in your life. The coping mechanisms you've developed because of him are the weed that's growing in the garden, and simply getting rid of what's above the surface doesn't make the problem go away. Neal is the root. You need to pull the root out so the weed can't grow back again. Does that make sense?"
Emma nodded hesitantly, but her wariness was palpable. Cleo continued.
"We can take a timeout at any point, remember. But I believe you're ready to do this, Emma. So let's start slow. When was the first time you remember feeling uncertain in any situation with Neal?"
After taking a deep, shaky breath, Emma closed her eyes for a few moments, allowing herself to be taken back to a time she'd been so desperate to escape. She never thought she'd revisit those memories willingly.
"I was 16 when we met," she said quietly, pausing and opening her eyes, "I'd moved to Oregon, to run away from a foster home, and we met in Portland when both of us stole the same car. He was arrogant and charming and it didn't take long for him to win me over. For the first couple weeks, he was...he took care of me. I'd never had that before, and I guess he figured out it was an easy way to get me to do whatever he wanted. Just tell the naive orphan kid, who's never had a single person care for her before, that you think she's pretty and that you love her...she'll lap it right up."
She scoffed with a harsh, self-deprecating laugh, clenching her jaw and swallowing the bitter taste in her mouth before she continued.
"The first time he changed was...maybe two or three weeks after we met. He asked me if I was a virgin, just straight up asked me out of the blue while we were sitting in the car, eating some food we'd stolen from a gas station. I felt weird about it, but I said I was. And he just leaned over and kissed me and said "good". Then he changed the subject and that was that for the rest of the day. But that night, when we parked the car down an alley, like we usually would to go to sleep if we weren't sneaking into a motel, he turned to me and asked me if I loved him, and I said of course I did. I was so eager to please him and scared that he'd leave me. I really believed I was in love with him too, and that he loved me back. So when he said he wanted to have sex with me, because that's what people who loved each other did…"
Emma's voice cracked and she took a moment to regain her composure, as a wave of nausea rolled over her.
"I was scared. I'd always just followed his lead like a goddamn lovesick puppy, and he took advantage of that. I was so convinced I'd found the love of my life. The age difference was such a non-issue to me, and I didn't see the power imbalance between us. I just desperately wanted to do anything to make him happy. So I agreed, even though I was shaking when we got into the back of the car. He could probably see that I wasn't ready, and that I had no fucking clue what I was doing, but I let him do what he wanted. And it hurt. But it wasn't like I wasn't used to pain by that point in my life, and compared to cigarette burns and all the other things I'd survived in group and foster homes, it wasn't really that bad. And it didn't last long. He told me I'd enjoy it the more we did it...he was never really interested in me enjoying it though, which I know now, since being with someone who actually did care about what I was getting from it."
Cleo was subtly scribbling things down on her notepad, but Emma was too lost in the memories she'd buried deep down, as they clawed their way back to the surface, to notice.
"I'm pretty sure he got me pregnant the first time we did it, though I only found that out after he was long gone. That was the first time I felt uncertain with him. But after I'd given him that, he seemed to realize I'd do anything he asked, if he showed me affection when he wanted something. I was so fucking easy to manipulate."
"Emma," Cleo cut her off, something she rarely did, "You were a child. Even the law saw you as a child; the age of consent in Oregon is eighteen. So, even though you said yes, you weren't able to properly consent to give what he took from you. It's third degree sexual abuse. And I know you know that now, as a cop. You are not to blame in any way for being manipulated by a man who saw your vulnerabilities and exploited them for his own gain. He used your innocence and the fact that you'd been starved of love your entire childhood, and he turned them into weapons to make you compliant. That isn't love, which I'm sure you're able to see now. But your 16 year old self holds no accountability for not knowing that."
Emma scrubbed a hand across her face and moved to lie back on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling with a heavy sigh. Talking about Neal always drained her and made a crushing sense of dread press down on her shoulders, like his memory was some kind of physical weight she had to bear.
"He still has power over me though. He's fucking dead and just thinking about him still makes me feel like I'm walking in one of those kids' haunted houses where the floor moves. That's the only way I can describe it."
There was a beat of silence, as Cleo let Emma's words ruminate, and gave her time and space to continue if she wished to. She'd found that firing questions at her wasn't the best way to encourage or enable Emma to access long-buried memories and feelings that she'd resisted revisiting for many years.
Instead, Cleo gently reinforced the fact that the office was a safe space for her to bring those things into the present, and then envision leaving them at the doorway once her session was over. It was a process that seemed to work well for some people, including Emma, and helped them to feel safe enough to unburden.
When Emma remained quiet, still staring at the ceiling, Cleo prompted her gently.
"Feeling that he was the one holding the power, thus making you feel powerless, is how you see your relationship with him, am I right?"
"I guess," Emma said quietly, moving to sit up and leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, "I think it felt more like that when I found out I was pregnant. I was in prison...for something he'd done and let me take the fall for. I'm pretty sure he set me up as a decoy and took off. But anyway...I sat in that cell feeling like he still had a hold over me, because it was his baby growing inside me. The prison doctors tried to encourage me to have an abortion but I-...I just couldn't. I'm not against abortion or anything, it just...wasn't right for me. So I had the baby-...Henry. I had Henry in prison, a couple months before I got out. And I didn't-...I didn't even hold him," her voice broke, as a lump of emotion lodged itself in her throat and her vision blurred with unshed tears, but she shook her head and blinked them away before continuing, "Partly because I knew I had to give him up, and...and partly because I was too scared that I'd see Neal in him."
Her eyes filled with tears and she did her best to hold them back, but the overwhelming ache in her chest was unrelenting.
"And now that you've met him, do you see Neal in him?"
Tears slipped down her cheeks then, and she brushed them away as she shook her head.
"No. He's nothing like Neal. He's...sweet, and kind, and thoughtful," her voice shook, more tears escaping and she gave up wiping them away, "His parents are doing a good job raising him."
"And that's because of the choice you made for him, Emma. We've talked in previous sessions about you giving up your son, and it's seemed like something you've carried a lot of guilt for. What you went through recently, with Neal, and having met Henry and his adoptive parents...has it made you feel any differently about that choice? Have you been able to let go of some of that guilt now?"
"Maybe a little, yeah," Emma replied hesitantly, "I-I just...meeting him was such a shock. I was sitting in some basement, tied up in a chair, and I was trying to get my head around what was happening to me. At that point, I didn't know that Neal was...I didn't know what he'd done. That he was the one who'd killed all those other women. It didn't even occur to me that he'd be capable of that. But he hated me so much for giving Henry up, that he wanted to kill me over and over again, using those other women to do it. And I don't doubt now that he would've killed me, too. But all I could think about when I realized what he'd done...was how I needed to get Henry, and myself, out of there."
Cleo smiled serenely as she handed Emma a box of tissues to dab at her eyes.
"It's a mother's instinct. To protect her child."
Emma frowned as she considered Cleo's words, clearly having never thought of it that way before.
"I-...I know I carried him for all those months, but...I'd never met him, not really. So how could it be a maternal instinct? I didn't know the kid that looked me in the eyes in that basement, with absolutely no resentment, and asked me if I was his mom. He was so matter-or-fact about it all, and then he launched into telling me all about himself...I felt like the air had literally been punched out of my chest. I'd had so many dreams of meeting him, and none of them went well. In all my dreams...well, nightmares, I suppose, he hated me. The way Neal did. He blamed me and resented me for giving him up. But he...wasn't like that at all."
She sniffled, and Cleo folded her hands in her lap.
"Because the child you conjured in your nightmares was rooted in your guilt. He wasn't real. He represented all the anguish you felt about the choice you made - which wasn't really a choice at all, if you think about it. You were brave and selfless to go through all of that, especially when you were still a child yourself. But, once again, it was a situation where your hand was forced, in many ways. Your power was taken away, along with your freedom and your baby. Henry would've gone into foster care until you left prison anyway. The most selfless act was accepting that you wanted a better life for him than you could provide once you were out of prison. But you shouldered the guilt as though all of that was your fault, when none of it was, Emma. And the boy you met in that basement, whose life you're now going to be a part of going forward, wasn't like you'd imagined because he wasn't borne of your guilt. As for maternal instinct...you've had it inside of you since before he was born. You instinctively wanted to protect him, just like you did when he came into the world, and you did what was best for him, even though it broke your heart. You may not have known the child you met in those awful circumstances, but your drive to protect him kicked in. Because you became a mother when you brought him into the world, and it's an instinct that has never gone away."
Tears were streaming down her face by then, and a soft sob caught in her throat.
"I think we should leave it there for today, Emma," Cleo said gently, after giving her few moments to feel and process and accept all the warring emotions she'd been bombarded with, "The scars you have because of Neal aren't ones we can get to grips with in a few sessions. It's going to take quite a while to work through everything, which I'm sure you know. I don't want to overwhelm you with too much in one go, when the processing of everything we've talked about is a really important part of your healing. But, as always, I'll give you a few things to think about and work through between now and our next session, and we can carry on then, if that sounds like a reasonable plan to you?"
Emma nodded, sniffling and grabbing another tissue to wipe her tears. Early in her sessions, they'd both learned that pushing ahead during a 'breakthrough' didn't work as well for Emma as stopping when they reached a point where she was becoming overwhelmed.
Her finely tuned defence mechanisms caused her to back off and shut down a little if it became too much. So they'd learned how to walk the fine line between a breakthrough and too much, and even Emma had been able to see what a difference it made when she sat down alone and did her 'homework'. She didn't particularly enjoy it, but she also didn't actively avoid doing it now, or dread it to the point of feeling sick at the thought of revisiting the memories she'd dredged up in her sessions.
"I want you to think about your relationship with the feeling of powerlessness. We started exploring that today, in relation to Neal, but I want you to think of a few more times when you've felt that way, and how it shaped your behavior in those situations. You mentioned a comparison before, too, which I'd like to explore a little more next time. You said that Neal was never interested in your enjoyment of the sexual aspect of your relationship, in contrast to a sexual partner you've had since then. If it isn't impertinent of me to assume it was Killian you were referring to, then I'd like you to think about the differences between how Neal and Killian treated you, not just sexually, but as a whole; how they made you feel, and how that shaped any feelings or behaviors towards yourself and other possible relationships in the future."
Emma swallowed, nodding again, a little more hesitant this time. When she found her voice, it was as unsteady as she felt.
"That's a lot of homework, doc," she tried to joke, but it fell flat, "I'll try. Today has been...a lot."
"And you're doing incredibly well. I know I said it before, but I'm so proud of you and how much progress you're making. None of this is easy, but you're taking it seriously and putting the work in. I promise it'll be worth it. And Emma...you've been criticizing yourself for years - you blame yourself for a lot of things that were never your fault - but it hasn't done you any good. Try accepting yourself, and see what happens."
CS
Over the following week, Emma was kept busy with preparations for starting back to work. After her therapy session, she'd spoken to Killian, but when he'd asked how it had gone, she'd simply sighed and said, "heavy". He'd known not to push, and they'd moved onto lighter topics.
As the week went on though, she found herself wanting to talk to him about it, more than she ever really had before. She was doing her "homework" and finding that her now-nightly phone-calls (often FaceTime calls) with Killian were becoming somewhat of an anchor for her.
Previously, realizing she'd formed that kind of attachment to someone would've been a red flag sending her running in the opposite direction, and shutting him out or avoiding speaking with him as much. But now...well, now, she was starting to tentatively convince herself that getting attached didn't have to be a bad thing.
He made her laugh, and she needed that after spending an hour digging through horrible memories and dissecting her own psychology. He was her touchstone to the here-and-now, stopping her from losing sight of who she was now after drowning in the life she'd been more than happy to leave behind her.
And so, over the week, she mentioned her therapy a little more. She told him when it was weighing on her, and even opened up a little more about the "homework" she was doing. He was, of course, endlessly supportive, even when that just sometimes involved listening and letting her pour her heart out in a frustrated, or heartbroken, or angry rant.
It didn't make up a huge part of their conversations, and Emma was still cautious. He wasn't her therapist, and she didn't want to put the weight of all her baggage, as she called it, on him. One of the reasons their relationship was such a balm to her was that it lifted her out of the hole that her therapy sometimes left her sitting in. She needed that to remain the case, and not to let their phone-calls turn into another therapy session.
Killian, meanwhile, had spent the week packing up his apartment, and becoming more and more torn about his decision to hold off on telling Emma about his big move until he could do so in person.
Speaking to her, and often seeing her on FaceTime, every night had become something he looked forward to all day. But he couldn't help but feel a little guilty about keeping such a big thing from her. Especially when she was opening up to him more about her therapy, and their conversations were getting longer.
When the weekend arrived, and he'd moved most of his belongings into storage, where they'd stay until he had an apartment secured in Boston, Killian would admit that he was nervous. He was meeting Elsa and Anna at the airport, and they would all be staying at the same hotel he'd stayed in during the last trip.
The sisters picked up on Killian's nervous energy within minutes, and they had quite different responses to it. Elsa was the wise, softly-spoken, reassuring one, telling him it would all be fine, the move would go smoothly, and Emma would be thrilled to see him.
Anna, on the other hand, simply had him rolling his eyes when she gushed about how "head over heels in love" he was and how adorable it was to see him so nervous over a girl. Woman, Killian had corrected her firmly. And it was apprehensive about the move and the job, too. It was just that all he could really think about in his immediate future was seeing Emma again. The rest of it...that would fall into place, he was sure.
Will was picking them up from the airport. The flight was only an hour and a half, with no delay this time. Small mercies. He'd been waiting for them when they stepped out of Arrivals, wearing a mischievous grin and holding a sign that said "Swan-Jones and co". Elsa and Anna had found it hilarious, but Killian had blushed right to the tips of his ears.
Will had filled them in on all the details of Emma's surprise birthday/welcome back party, which they'd planned for Monday, after her first day back in work. It wasn't out of the ordinary that they'd go to the Rabbit Hole to 'celebrate' her return, for a few quiet drinks. She'd already agreed to it when Will had casually brought it up. He'd been careful, because she was extremely good at reading him, and picking up on any hint that he was being suspicious.
She seemed unaware that they had more planned for her 'happy belated birthday/'welcome back drinks' though, thankfully. August had eagerly agreed to decorate the place a little, and Granny and Ruby were providing what would no doubt be an impressive buffet. Everyone from Homicide would be there - all leaving the office in the usual manner, so as not to rouse Emma's suspicions by dashing off to the bar all at once - as well as some of their friends and acquaintances from other units.
Emma was well-respected, even if most of the people she worked with never saw her outside of the office. What had happened, and what she'd been through, was common knowledge throughout Boston PD. So, she had a lot of people keen to be there to welcome her back.
They would all be at the Rabbit Hole when she arrived, if things went to plan. Including Killian. There wouldn't be a huge roar of 'SURPRISE!' or anything like that, because Will knew Emma well enough to know she wouldn't much appreciate that. But it would be more than obvious that the bar was packed out with everyone she knew, and decorated for her.
After grabbing a quick dinner at Tasty Burger, Will dropped Killian, Elsa and Anna off at their hotel. The sisters went off to get an early night, and after a drink at the hotel bar to unwind, Killian headed up to his own room.
By the time he'd retrieved a few things from his suitcase, taken a brief shower and settled himself into a comfortable position in bed with his laptop to look over some of his work, it was already pushing 9pm. He'd been going through paperwork for about 20 minutes when his phone began to ring.
He was knee-deep in application forms and paperwork for the interviews he'd be heading up a few days later, with his laptop open on his knee, so it took him a moment to fumble for his phone underneath the mess.
Emma was calling him on FaceTime.
His heart jumped, and he took a deep breath before he answered. He only hoped she didn't ask where he was, because he wouldn't lie to her. But he'd just have to carefully avoid volunteering the whole truth, if possible.
"Hello there, beautiful."
He gave her a charming smile, hoping it would hide his nervousness, and he was thankful his voice sounded a lot steadier than he felt. Emma smiled back at him, her hair a golden halo fanned out on the pillow as she lay on her bed. It made his heart race knowing she was just a short cab ride away.
"Hi you. Sorry I'm a little late tonight. I was at the shooting range with Will. We stopped for food on the way back-"
She paused, a flash of uncertainty crossing her face that he didn't miss before she tried to cover it up with nonchalance. When she continued, he could read the wariness in her tone though.
"Uh...you're not at home. Sorry-...is this a bad time?"
His stomach dropped. She'd noticed he wasn't in his own bed. Of course she did. She was a detective, for God's sake, and he'd FaceTimed her enough while sitting on or in his own bed for her to recognize it was a different room.
He swallowed, masking his nerves, once again, with a smile.
"You're an observant one, aren't you, lass? Guess that's why you've got that detective title before your name," he chuckled, and then shrugged with a forced sigh, "I'm in yet another hotel for the weekend. Work stuff."
Don't lie. But don't volunteer too much of the truth.
He was in the city for work stuff...technically. It was a trip that came out of the FBI's pocket, and he had interviews to carry out on Tuesday and Thursday. He had an office to organize and mountains of paperwork to cast a glance over, at the very least.
It also happened that he was there for something a little more than work, too. That was the part he didn't have to volunteer. And he prayed she wouldn't ask where he was exactly. She was sharp as a tack, and would immediately know if he was being too evasive.
"Oh," she breathed, sounding somewhat relieved, which made him curious, "Well, I hope you're not working too hard, seeing as it's the weekend and all."
He shook his head, chuckling.
"I promise I'm not working too hard. Just plenty of paperwork. The boring stuff. Enough about my work nonsense; how are you, darling?"
He was keen to change the subject away from his whereabouts and weekend plans, as casually as he could. He did wonder about the look of relief that had crossed Emma's face when he'd informed her it was a work trip. Had she assumed he'd answered a FaceTime call from her, as he sat in someone else's bed? Had she really not figured out by now that he had no interest in anyone other than her? At least he'd be able to reiterate that point to her soon enough.
"I'm pretty good. Looking forward to getting back to work on Monday. That's why I was at the range. Felt like my aim might have gotten a little rusty with all the time off. Good news though - I'm still a perfect shot."
She gave him a smug smile, and he chuckled.
"I don't doubt it for a second, Swan," he said sincerely, "No plans for this weekend then?"
Emma shook her head, but he could tell she had something she wasn't quite sure how to say.
"Everything alright, love?"
He asked, his heart stuttering slightly when she gave him a suddenly-nervous smile.
"Uhm, yeah...well...I was gonna say...do you remember that night when we...y'know."
Killian blanked for barely half a second, until he realized what she was referring to, and he scratched the back of his ear with a smirk.
"Aye, my darling, how could I ever forget? What about it?"
She blushed; a pretty shade of pink coloring her cheeks even as she rolled her eyes at him.
"Well, I didn't know you were away on a work thing this weekend, so it doesn't matter-"
"Swan," he cut her off softly, "What were you going to say?"
"I-...uh, I was gonna ask...if you...if you maybe wanted to do it again?"
When she finally found her words, they tumbled out in a breathless jumble, and then she bit her lip, looking entirely unsure of herself. Shy Emma wasn't a version of her he saw very much. But he had to admit, the color on her cheeks suited her.
"On the video call this time? Bloody hell, darling...I'd like that very much. But just...let me move all the paperwork and such off the bed, and get myself a little more ready for you. I'll call you back in five minutes?"
Emma agreed, still a note of shyness to her tone, and they hung up while he cleared the bed. He'd wanted to get rid of the laptop and paperwork without giving her a full view of the room, just in case she recognized it. He was in the same hotel he'd stayed in last time, and the room looked practically identical to the one he'd taken her back to the first night they'd met.
When he was settled back into his bed, sans sweatpants and underwear this time, his heart was racing. But it was more from excitement and arousal now, than the fear of her finding out too soon that he was in the city.
He hit the FaceTime button under her name, and bit back a groan as her face appeared once more, this time with the tempting hint that she'd removed the t-shirt she'd previously been wearing.
"Hi again," she said softly, biting her lip as her eyes flickered to his bare chest that she could just see a glimpse of, "Made yourself more comfortable?"
"Mhmm. And how about you, darling? Did you get more comfortable for me?"
He heard her breath catch, a pretty blush on her cheeks as she nodded, and slowly angled her phone so that he could see she'd taken off her shirt at least, but without giving him a full frontal shot. She was going to tease him a little; make him work for it. And he was already hard, eager to take whatever she'd give.
He reciprocated the tease, widening the camera angle so that the frame showed enough of the treasure trail of hair running downwards from his naval that she could easily ascertain he wasn't wearing anything at all. Two could play that game.
Being able to see her - the way her face was flushed, and her pupils blown wide; the way her chest heaved and her breathing had become just a little bit more shallow than before - was making him hot all over and desperate to be able to reach out and touch her.
He'd thought the phone sex they'd had last time, and hearing her scream out her release with his name on her lips, had been the most erotic experience of his life. But he was already sure that this was going to top it. He wouldn't have to close his eyes and imagine the look on her face as she reacted to him this time. He could see the real thing.
"I see some of your little friends have come out to play, too," Killian smirked, as he caught a glimpse of Emma's toys on the bed beside her, "Are you going to let me watch you use them on yourself, darling?"
She giggled; a sweet, magical sound that made his heart stutter.
"Maybe if you're good."
"Oh, I'm very good, Emma. You know I am."
Emma paused, still getting accustomed to the fact that he could see her, as well as hear her, this time. She'd been jittery when he'd called her back, and almost backed out. She'd never done anything on camera before, and although it was definitely a rush, it was also still uncharted territory they were navigating, and that came with just enough awkwardness for them both that it calmed her slightly.
His voice was hoarse, and had a very slight tremor, which she probably wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't grown so used to hearing his voice every day now. It settled her nerves to know he was just as affected as she was, and that his cocky smirks and confident innuendos were covering the same jitters she shared.
But seeing him staring back at her with a look of pure desire, mixed with soft adoration, had her starting to feel bolder. And she decided she may as well really get into it, if she was going to do this.
"Are you hard for me already, Killian?"
She dropped her voice to a seductive purr, and suppressed a giggle as she watched his throat work when he swallowed hard.
"Aye...how could I not be, when you're teasing me like this, lass?"
She put on her most innocent expression, fluttering her eyelashes and pressing her lips together to stop herself from laughing. He kept clenching his jaw, one of his tells for being turned on and trying hard to control it. That one hadn't taken her long to figure out.
"Me, teasing? You mean like this?"
She tapped the screen of her phone to flip the camera around, giving him a view down her body from her own point of view, across the flat, tight muscles of her stomach, to the only piece of clothing she was still wearing - a pair of lace panties. He inhaled sharply at the sudden, tempting sight he was being afforded.
She shifted slightly then, raising one knee to brace her foot on the bed, and slowly sliding her hand down her stomach. She paused when she reached the waistband of her panties, listening to the sound of Killian's labored breathing as he watched with rapt attention.
"Go on, love. You know you want to. Touch yourself for me-"
"I'm the one in charge tonight, Jones," she cut him off, and smirked as she watched him gulp and nod, "You had your turn giving the commands last time. Tonight it's my turn. Don't do anything yet. I want you to be so hard and aching for me that you feel like you might explode without even touching yourself. Do you understand?"
"Y-yes, darling. Fuck, Emma, this is so incredibly hot."
"I know. You've made me really hot," she paused, slipping her hand into her panties and shuddering as her fingers immediately found the evidence of what the whole situation was doing to her, "God I'm so wet, Killian."
He groaned on the other end of the phone, and she could see the desperate, almost feral look in his eyes. She already had him wound so tight, and she knew he wanted to give her some direction; to tell her what to do and how to touch herself. His instinct was always to get her off first, and to make sure she enjoyed every second of his attention...even when he wasn't there to bring her release with his own hands.
"What do you want me to do, love? Please. Tell me. Please."
She smirked, enjoying the broken desperation in his tone. She hadn't even introduced any toys into their game yet, and he already sounded wrecked.
"Tell me how you'd touch me if you were here right now. Just foreplay. I want to know how you'd make me come with just your hands and your mouth and your voice."
Killian cursed under his breath, and she knew he was trembling because his camera work was unsteady. When he found his voice, it was strained, to say the least.
"I'd touch and kiss every inch of that incredible body of yours, to start with. Can't get enough of how soft you are, lass. Like satin under my fingertips. I'd pay particular attention to the areas that make you arch your back and whimper - the inside of your wrists and thighs, your neck, the dimples in your lower back, and your ribs just beneath your breasts. I'd gently touch you first, barely there but enough to get you breathing a little harder, and then follow with my mouth-"
"I like when you use your teeth," she cut in breathlessly, and Killian clenched his jaw yet again at the bolt of potent need rushing south, "Just...a little. Not too hard."
"Whatever your heart desires, my love," he said smoothly, "I'd nip at your ears, because I love how you gasp when I do that, and then kiss my way down your body. When I'd rub my fingers against you, I'd find you so wet for me already. You're dripping for me now, aren't you, Swan? Push your fingers inside and imagine it's my hand between your legs. God, what I wouldn't give to feel you clenching around my fingers right now."
Emma hummed in approval and agreement, her eyes fluttering closed as she tried to imagine her fingers were Killian's instead of her own. But then her eyes snapped open when she realized she was giving herself over to him, when she wanted to be in charge tonight.
With reluctance, she stopped her ministrations and licked her lips as she focused her gaze on him again, flipping the camera back around to her face. He quirked an eyebrow with that infuriating smirk of his and she scowled at him, even though it lacked any kind of strength.
"You're breaking the rules; I said I'm in charge tonight," she reprimanded, and he attempted a look of innocence, but instead could only smirk, "You know what happens when you break the rules?"
His smirk faltered and he looked curious. She continued before he could say anything.
"You get punished," a thrill zipped up her spine when she saw the expression of surprise cross his face, mixed with arousal, "I think your punishment is going to be…you can't come until I say so. And if I tell you to stop, you stop. Even if you're so close to the edge that it hurts to stop. Do you understand me, Jones?"
Killian visibly gulped again, and then quickly nodded. He was intrigued and ferociously turned on by her commanding tone and confidence. A woman who owned her sexuality and knew exactly what she wanted, unafraid to take it, was one of the sexiest sights to behold, in Killian's book. And he couldn't think of anything sexier than Emma controlling his release, without ever touching him.
"Good. Now...you can touch yourself. But slowly. Imagine it's my mouth."
Killian groaned loudly at that, and Emma watched with appreciation as his head fell back against his pillow, his jaw working as he tried to maintain a slow pace with his hand wrapped around himself and the image of Emma with her mouth on him making his legs tremble.
"Let me see. Flip your camera."
She demanded. He fumbled with his phone for a moment, distracted and dazed, but finally switched the camera around, so she got a graphic view of his hand pumping himself up and down at a measured pace. Emma licked her lips, remembering how it felt to take him to the back of her throat, and the way Killian had cursed and trembled when she did.
"I loved taking you all the way to the back of my throat, and feeling your fingers tighten in my hair. I know you wanted to fuck my mouth, but you were too much of a gentleman to do it. Maybe I want you to though. Maybe I want you to take and then lose control, all within a few seconds. Because I know you love how it feels when I have my mouth on your cock, Killian."
Her voice was that seductive purr again that she'd started the conversation with. She could see his hand shaking as he fought the urge to move faster, and a litany of curses fell from his lips.
"Stop," she demanded, smirking when an agonized whimper sounded down the phone, "Move your hand. And open your eyes so you can watch me. No touching again until I say you can."
"Fucking hell, Emma. You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"
He whined, as he watched her grab a realistic-looking, average sized dildo and touch it to her lips. She pushed the tip into her mouth, holding his gaze, and then pulled it back with a soft pop. She repeated the action once more, rolling her tongue around the head, and then flipped her camera.
He was barely able to breathe, and he watched with rapt attention as she briefly lifted her hips and shoved her panties down, kicking them off, before returning to her task. She pressed the toy to her entrance, trying her best to hold her phone still as she pushed it deep in one smooth movement and paused to let herself adjust to the intrusion.
"God, yes, love," Killian whispered, aching for her, "Please, let me hear you."
She acquiesced, arching her back and moaning loudly.
"Oh, fuck, Killian, yes. Just like that…" she cried out, "Fuck me, please, fuck me hard."
"Jesus fucking Christ…"
She wasn't holding back, and Killian was practically salivating as he watched her take her pleasure imagining it was him pressed deep inside her instead of a piece of plastic or rubber or silicone, whatever the damn thing was made of. He'd never been so jealous of an inanimate object before.
"Come, sweetheart. Let me feel you come hard around me."
He whispered harshly, and within seconds, Emma was crying out his name an octave higher than normal, the camera shaking as she found her release. It hadn't taken long, and she'd never had an orgasm so quickly with just a dildo before. Knowing Killian was watching her, and his encouragements making it easier to envision him between her legs rather than a toy controlled by her own hand, had made all the difference.
After a few seconds, once she'd caught her breath, she turned the camera back to her face again, wanting him to see just how blissed out he'd made her feel.
"You are magnificent, my love."
The awe and adoration in his voice made her blush, and she took a moment to catch her breath, her body feeling pleasantly numb and heavy with the afterglow.
"So are you," she smirked, "How are you doing over there?"
"Not bloody well, you minx. It's practically painful how hard I am after watching you do all that to yourself."
He said woefully, and Emma giggled, rolling onto her side and propping up her camera against the pillow, the way she had the first night they'd FaceTimed. Killian sank his teeth into his bottom lip with a groan as the camera angle gratified him with a much better view of all of her.
"You can touch yourself again."
Emma said softly, propping herself up on her elbow and letting her other hand gently wander across her body. He immediately did as he was told with a grunt of relief, taking himself in hand and sighing her name.
"So, you've imagined it was my mouth before. Now I want you to imagine it's my hand. Go slow. I like watching you when I touch you. The way you close your eyes and frown in concentration, your hips bucking up against my hand just a little bit. But it's not enough, is it?"
He shook his head, too far gone to formulate words. She watched his face, transfixed, and feeling her own arousal building again from knowing what he was doing below the camera.
"You want to be inside me, don't you?" An eager nod, "You want me to straddling your hips, and slide myself along you a few times, teasing you before I give you the satisfaction of taking you all the way in. You can feel how wet I am, can't you?"
Another nod, and a guttural groan. Emma had never been one for dirty talking before, not really. But she couldn't deny that there was an exhilarating thrill to guiding her lover's imagination with her words, and being able to see the effect she was having on him without even touching him. She understood Killian's predilection for it a little better now, because seeing him getting so much pleasure from her voice and commands was a heady feeling.
"I love the feeling of sinking down on you, feeling you fill me up all the way. You're so big, and it feels incredible when I'm on top, adjusting to the way you feel when you can't go any deeper. But it feels even better when I start to roll my hips. Slowly. You dig your nails into my hips 'cause it feels so good and you don't wanna come just yet, do you, Killian?"
He shook his head, gulping and panting hard. Emma reached over and grabbed her bullet vibrator then, as her arousal built. She'd decided she wanted to come at the same time as him, and the mini vibrator would help her along.
When she turned it on, his eyes snapped open at the sound and he groaned loudly, mumbling a few curses, as he watched her roll onto her back, spreading her legs slightly and pressing the tiny toy against herself.
She moaned at the first contact, shivering with the force of the vibrations.
"Fuck, that feels good. Why have you stopped?"
She demanded, her eyes back on the screen as she caught him staring open-mouthed, eyes almost black with arousal and looking like he wanted to devour her.
"Oh, I haven't, darling. You're giving me plenty of material to work with here."
He chuckled, his voice strained.
"I wanna see. I've never found it hot watching a guy jerk off before," she admitted, "But with you...it makes me really wish you were here to use my body instead of your hand."
Killian closed his eyes for a moment, his breathing ragged and fast, as he tried to force his release down a little longer. It was taking every bit of willpower he had not to blurt out that he was there. Or rather, that could be there in a little over 10 minutes if she wanted him to be. He didn't though.
Instead, he turned the camera with an unsteady hand, his gaze moving between her face as she watched him, and the way her hips moved sensually to enhance the way the vibrator felt against her
"You have no idea how much I wish I was there, Swan. How I wish I was buried deep inside you right now, those exquisite legs of yours wrapped around me as I fuck you hard and fast until you see stars."
"I love it when you fuck me hard," she whispered, and then paused, biting her lip as she smirked, "Stop."
Killian cried out in frustration at her command, so close to his release that he could feel his legs tensing up. He was tempted to ignore her and chase his release, but he also wanted to give her what she wanted...even if it felt like torture to edge himself like that. He was sure she'd made the payoff worth it though, so he reluctantly complied, letting go and clenching his hand into a fist by his side, to attempt to regain control of himself.
"Bloody fucking hell, woman!"
He cursed, shaking and feeling his release ebb away, though his arousal was still burning him alive.
"God, you're so fucking hot when you're on the edge," she giggled breathlessly, turning off her vibrator and putting it aside for now, in favor of another toy she knew would drive him crazy, "I'll make it worth it, I promise. You're gonna come so hard...when I let you."
He gritted his teeth, pretty sure he'd spontaneously combust before she let him finish, at this rate. Especially when he caught a glance of the toy she'd picked up next.
"Emma...what is that?"
He gulped, eyes wide and heart racing so fast he wondered in passing if it could be dangerous. Emma looked up at the camera with that same innocent expression she'd worn earlier, as she prepped the next toy.
"I haven't really done this very much," she said softly, "But I feel like now is a good time to try it out again. Do you know what this is, Killian?"
"It's...a butt plug, right?"
His voice was practically a whimper, and he was fully convinced she was trying to make him come without even touching himself. She nodded, kneeling up on the bed, her head now out of the camera's frame. But with her profile to the screen, he watched with rapt attention, barely breathing as she gently pressed the small toy inside on a drawn-out moan.
She fell forward onto all fours then, panting and taking a moment to adjust, coldbumps breaking out all over her body. She'd never really entertained the idea of anal, and hadn't been with any man long enough to trust him with exploring that kink, so she had no idea if she'd actually enjoy it.
But Ruby had bought her a sex toy set for her 21st birthday (mostly as a joke but not entirely), which had the butt plug in it, and she'd been curious. So she'd tried it out...and hadn't hated it. She didn't use it regularly, and it was probably her least-utilized toy, but she was glad of it tonight.
"You are a fucking goddess, my darling. You like that gorgeous arse of yours played with, hmm? Duly noted."
The gravely timbre of his voice made her shiver, and she fumbled for her rabbit vibrator then. She couldn't care less about her insistence of being in charge at that point, as she switched on the toy and quickly lined it up at her entrance. All she cared about was chasing her next release, and knowing Killian was coming for her at the same time.
She had her ass in the air, head resting on the bed and her hand between her legs. The camera was angled so that he had the perfect view of what she was doing to herself, and so she could see him, too. If she'd been less dizzy with arousal, she might have had the presence of mind to feel shy or embarrassed by that, but she felt neither.
"God, yes, Emma. That's it, my darling. Please, let me touch myself while I watch you…"
She nodded eagerly, her voice shaky as she gasped out, "I want you to come at the same time as me. And I want to watch you come for me. Can you do that?"
"I-I'll try," he replied quickly, sighing with relief as he took himself in hand yet again, eyes glued to the screen, "Push it in now, sweetheart. Slowly. Imagine it's me, filling you just the way you like. Love taking you in that position. Love that perfect arse."
He was breathless, the picture she made on his screen easily better than any porno he'd ever seen. Because this was for him, and no one else. She was his. And he was hers. They may not have said anything like that out loud, but he liked to think she felt the same. What they were doing was as intimate as they could possibly be without physically being together, and they both knew it.
"Mmmm, Killian, it feels so good. I feel so full."
"That's it. Faster now, love. I'm getting close…"
She did as she was told, speeding up the vibrator until she was crying out repeatedly on every downstroke. Killian's legs began to shake, and he groaned loudly.
"Emma, darling-"
"Come for me, Killian!" She cried out, wrenching her eyes open to watch the screen, "Oh god, I'm coming!"
Her whole body stiffened and bowed, stomach muscles tensing almost to the point of pain, at the exact same time as he let out a guttural cry of her name, and shot his release onto his stomach and hand.
Emma removed the vibrator before collapsing onto her belly, shuddering with aftershocks. She needed a moment to recover before she could get rid of the plug too, but at that point it was drawing out the high of her earth-shattering orgasm.
Killian was still trying to catch his breath too, his head leaned back onto his pillow. He reached for a box of tissues off screen and quickly cleaned himself up, discarding them and returning to bed.
By then, Emma had summoned enough energy to rid herself of the plug and toss all the toys she'd used into her bathroom sink, making a mental note to clean them after their FaceTime equivalent of a post-sex cuddle. She smiled at the imagery, slipping under the covers and grabbing the phone.
"That was...intense."
She said with a dreamy smile. He grinned, scratching behind his ear.
"That's one way of putting it. You're a bloody marvel, my love. Thank you...for sharing that with me."
Emma blushed at the sincerity and awe in his voice. It reminded her yet again just how different things had always been with Killian. She'd always felt safe and treasured and free to explore aspects of her sexuality that she wasn't ashamed of, but that she'd always kept to herself before. She'd never let a guy watch her touch herself, for example. But with Killian, it felt so easy and comfortable, and even addictive. He made her feel sexier than she'd ever felt before, but he also didn't make her feel objectified in a way that would cheapen it.
With a jaw-cracking yawn, she let the feeling of sated bliss cover her body like a blanket. Killian chuckled.
"Am I boring you now, lass?"
He joked, and Emma rolled her eyes with a soft laugh.
"Yeah, kinda. Might have to call my other boyfriend for some better quality entertainment-"
She cut herself off, the previous warm feeling of post-orgasm satiety being yanked away and replaced by a cold wave of shock when she realized what she'd said. Killian was staring at her, seemingly also lost for words.
Her initial instinct was to escape the situation. Run. Hide. End the call with some flimsy excuse and panic for the next several hours over how to backtrack and apologize. But instead, she took a shaky breath and tried to channel Cleo's calming influence, and remembered the techniques she was trying to use to get away from her instinctive Fight or Flight reaction.
"I-...uh...sorry."
She muttered, her hands trembling for an entirely different reason than they had earlier. Killian simply offered her a much-too-bright smile, clearly able to see and feel her discomfort.
"That's alright, lass. My other boyfriend happens to be Brad Pitt, and I'll be calling him right after this. Not sure he'll be able to put on a show to match yours tonight, though."
Emma snorted a laugh, the tension suddenly dissipating with his perfectly-timed humor. He'd seen her floundering for something to say, and shrinking into herself, so he'd effortlessly guided them back into more comfortable territory.
"Mhmm, I feel like I set the bar pretty high. Poor guy has a lot to live up to."
Killian laughed, nodding and humming in agreement. He paused then, his smile so soft that she felt her heart skip a few beats.
"But for what it's worth, Swan...it's alright. We're alright," he said, his words loaded with meaning and causing a swell of emotion to lodge itself in her chest even as he grinned again and gave her a cheeky wink, "I mean, I can't blame you. You want this dashingly handsome bloke all to yourself, hmm?"
Emma rolled her eyes, unable to resist smiling at the ridiculousness of his wiggling eyebrows. She could feel the blush on her cheeks, and she bit her lip, finding his gaze on the screen.
"Well, I mean...kinda."
She said quietly, her heart racing so fast that it was starting to make her blood rush in her ears. This was the stuff she usefully steadfastly avoided talking about. And now she'd admitted out loud, twice, what she'd been burying for months.
Killian paused, his eyes wide again and all of his cheeky bravado gone. It was rare that he was speechless, so it gave her a little thrill to have rendered him so. After a few seconds, he found his composure and smiled so lovingly at her that she could practically feel the warmth of it emanating from her screen.
"You have nothing to worry about there, my love," he said, his voice softer than she'd ever heard it, with a note of nervousness that made her swallow thickly, "I've been all yours since the moment we met."
N.B: Well, it may have only been two scenes in the whole chapter, but were they jampacked full of goodies, or WHAT! A
nd I think we can all agree that Cleo is a true MVP!
Thank you to everyone who's been so incredibly kind and supportive with feedback on every update.
You guys are the best.