Your Case or Mine
Chapter 17
Emma's eyes snapped open, her whole body suddenly very much awake and on-edge. Staring up at the ceiling, she held her breath and waited, listening to the deafening silence of the house and anticipating some telltale sound that would justify her cop instincts rousing her from her sleep.
She'd woken up like this once before, when some asshole teenager had been attempting to break into her apartment. He'd been halfway through the bathroom window when he'd found a gun pointed at him with a very bemused and sleep-mussed cop in duck-printed sleep shorts and a vest top hauling him onto the floor. By the time the kid had processed what was happening, she'd had him cuffed and was reading him his rights. The night staff at the precinct had gotten an eyeful of bare legs and messy blonde hair when she'd tossed him at them for booking in before dragging herself home and back to bed.
So, with that same feeling of adrenaline pulsing through her veins, Emma slipped out of bed and spared a brief glance at Killian as he continued to sleep soundly. She tiptoed out of the bedroom, mentally cursing that she didn't have her gun at her disposal as she grabbed a fancy gold vase from the console table on the upstairs landing and edged toward the stairs. Pausing at the top, she strained her ears for any telltale sign that someone was in the house. Silence.
With steady hands and a racing heart, Emma edged down the stairs, eyes scanning the dark rooms for the slightest sign of movement and knuckles white as she gripped the slim vase. Everything remained still and silent, and Emma crept toward the kitchen, darting glances behind her while mentally clearing each room the way she would on the job.
Part of her had expected to catch someone red-handed, her finely-tuned cop instincts never having failed her before. But the house appeared untouched, each room empty and silent, exactly the way they'd left it the night before. Once satisfied that there was no one in the house except herself and Killian, Emma set down the vase on the coffee table, musing about stress and paranoia as she padded into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water.
Glass in hand, she wandered over to the patio doors and peered outside, making a mental note to call David in the morning and suggest installing another camera to cover the backyard. The house was in a corner plot and backed onto a nature reserve, so there was nothing but a dense wall of trees and bushes lining two sides of the yard. Staring into the darkness as she tried to shake off that horrible on-edge feeling she'd startled awake with, Emma checked the doors were secure...and found them unlocked.
Frowning in confusion, having expected them to be locked, Emma opened one of the doors and took a tentative step out onto the deck in her bare feet. Swallowing down the surge of dread that had risen like bile in her throat, she considered retrieving the vase. With every nerve in her body poised to react to anything, or anyone, she might find lurking outside, she kept hold of the door handle and squinted into the darkness. Other than the high-pitched chirping of crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves high in the trees, swaying in the gentle breeze of the mild night, there was nothing that grabbed her attention.
Shaking her head, she stepped back inside, firmly shutting and locking the patio doors and quickly drawing the curtains. This case was getting to her, clearly. She'd never been this paranoid before, and it was a feeling that had remained on the edges of her awareness since she'd been for a run and felt more vulnerable than she ever had before. It wasn't a pleasant sensation, and it had lingered. She knew the situation they were putting themselves in, by playing bait to a serial killer, was a dangerous one, and a touch of paranoia was understandable. But it didn't mean she had to like the feeling.
Taking one last quick look around downstairs, and double-checking that all the other windows and doors were secured, Emma cast a cursory glance in the direction of the cameras in the kitchen, and headed back upstairs. If anyone had been in the house, surely the person on the night shift on the other end of those cameras would have called to alert them?
When she returned to the bedroom, she double checked her phone, just in case, but there was nothing. That reassured her a little more, and she slipped silently back into bed beside Killian. He hadn't moved, in a deep and peaceful sleep that Emma hoped she could fall back into as well, now that she'd assured herself that the house was secure.
When David walked into the station the next morning, what he didn't expect to find was a disheveled (or, rather, a more disheveled than usual) Will Scarlet, sat at his desk, eyes glued to his screen. The younger man was restlessly bouncing his legs, turning his chair side-to-side and tapping away at his keyboard. He was jittery from exhaustion and too much caffeine, if the garbage bin nearby, full of coffee cups and empty energy drink cans.
David eyed his subordinate with a mixture of wariness and intrigue, as he approached the desk.
"Scarlet…have you been here all night?"
Will finally registered his boss' presence then, halting his typing and turning his chair around slightly to face David.
"P'rhaps," he said sheepishly, before canting his head at the computer screen, "But I think I mighta found some serious dirt on Gold."
David's eyebrows shot up, and he had to admit that out of all his officers, he hadn't expected Will to be the one who could potentially get a handle on one of the most elusive and long-running criminal masterminds in the country.
"Does it relate to our case?"
David asked hopefully, and Will made a noise of uncertainty.
"Not sure. But I s'ppose the more shit we have to work with, the more likely we are to find possible connections."
David couldn't help the small smile of pride that pulled at the corners of his mouth.
"Listen to you, sounding like a real cop."
Will rolled his eyes. Everyone knew that Emma was the detective savant out of the two of them, with sharp intuition and a borderline-obsessive work ethic. Will joked that she was like a chihuahua – small, smart, feisty and with a bite that was deceptively worse than her bark if someone got on the wrong side of her. Will had always been her polar opposite, which was probably why they worked so well together as partners. They balanced each other out. But when it came down to it, Will was a lot smarter than most people gave him credit for. And with his partner in the thick of it, this case was personal too, giving him even more of an incentive to show just what he could be capable of as a detective.
"Do you wanna know what I found or what?"
Will grumbled, and David gestured for him to go ahead, perching on the edge of the desk.
"So, I figured I'd dig into the personal stuff, seeing as we're hittin' a brick wall tryin' to find solid dirt on the business side. And I eventually tracked down his wife."
David's eyes widened.
"You what? His wife? Where can we find her?"
"Somewhere off the coast of Portsmouth, England. Doubt she'll be of much help seein' as she's nowt but ashes and dust now. Navy 'committed her to the sea' few years back. She was pretty high ranking in the Royal Navy, decorated with a whole load of stuff, but I found some whispers 'ere and there about extracurriculars with a lower ranking officer. No proof and no names to go along with those rumors though, and no disciplinary records to do with it or any real evidence that it was anythin' more than navy gossip."
David nodded thoughtfully.
"And what about her cause of death? Was she still married to Gold when she died?"
"Well, that's when stuff gets a bit weird. She was still legally married to Gold when she died. I guess the Royal Navy is like most institutions too, in that it tries to keep the murky stuff contained and internal. The immediate COD on her death certificate says Subdural Hematoma, but it lists the Underlying COD as Unknown. She had a bleed on her brain that killed her, and no one figured out why. The Navy seemed to have carried out some kind of internal investigation, but it was inconclusive."
The two men fell silent as they both looked at the screen, where Will had highlighted the information he'd just laid out. He'd done some high-level hacking to access all of it, and ordinarily David would not be very happy about that fact. But it seemed he'd stumbled onto yet another shady skeleton from Gold's closet. Quite literally, too.
"You've done good work here, Scarlet," David said, "I'm impressed."
Will shrugged, but the acknowledgement and praise from his boss meant a lot to him, and they both knew it.
"Gonna keep diggin' though, 'cause I've written down a bunch of questions I wanna find the answers to-"
"After you've been home to sleep. And shower."
Will was about to protest, but David held up a hand, "No arguments. You need to take a break. You've been working on this all night, and you know that you and I both get on Emma's back about taking a break when she does the same. Go home, take a shower, get something to eat – preferably something with some kind of nutritional value," he cast a pointed glance at the poptart wrappers and empty Chinese takeout boxes on the desk, "And then sleep. I don't want to see you back here until this afternoon. Then you can pick up where you've left off, to your heart's content. But none of it is going anywhere, and you'll be more productive after a few hours' sleep. Off you go."
Will sighed, knowing he couldn't really argue with anything David had said. They'd both forcibly removed Emma from the office when she'd pulled all-nighters to work on cases in the past, and he knew it was for his own good that he was being sent home. So, with weak grumbles of discontent, he locked his computer, shrugged on his jacket and gathered the trash off his desk to drop into the garbage on his way out the door, waving to the rookie manning the security cameras on the night shift as he went.
After a few hours' rest, he'd be back to it, determined to find something that could help them finally get a handle on Gold and close their current case. He was determined that they'd get justice for all the victims, and most importantly, he'd make sure Emma came home safe.
CS
She was dreaming about him. About one very specific thing he did with that tempting mouth of his, that had her seeing stars. And as she moaned loudly, Emma's eyes snapped open, consciousness flooding back when she realized she'd definitely moaned out loud. But a gasp caught in her throat as she also realized that she hadn't been dreaming. Or rather, his very real actions had invaded her dreams.
Gripping the covers, she tried to get her bearings, her brain awash with pleasure that was making her senses a little fuzzy, and making her forget all about her middle-of-the-night paranoia. His hands slid across her belly and up under her sleep shirt then, and she bit her lip as he cupped her breasts in his hands and squeezed.
"Fuck…this is…the best wake-up call I've-…oh god…ever had."
She whimpered breathlessly, her back arching when he dragged the flat of his tongue over her and flicked his thumbs over her nipples. She threw the blankets back in one quick movement, wanting to see him in all his sleep-mussed glory and run her fingers through his hair as he drove her wild. She absently wondered how he'd managed to get her panties off without waking her, but the thought was quickly drowned out by the fireworks he was creating.
He pulled back a little and smirked up at her then, nipping at the tender skin of her inner thigh and licking his lips.
"You were saying my name in your sleep. Telling me not to stop. That does things to a man, sweetheart; knowing you were dreaming of me pleasuring you. I decided to bring your dream into reality. Is that okay?"
Emma swallowed hard, and nodded, her cheeks blazing from the knowledge that she really had been having sex dreams about him (again) and he was right there beside her to hear her moans this time. Any embarrassment she felt quickly waned though, when he returned to his task, encouraging her to spread her legs more for him. She complied, groaning and shuddering as he repeated his earlier action with his tongue, removing a hand from her breast in order to assist his oral efforts.
Emma cried out as frissons of pleasure suffused her entire body in bliss, a quick and heady orgasm hitting her when he sucked hard on her clit and pushed two fingers inside her. Her whole body stiffened and trembled, and stars burst across her vision momentarily. He brought her down gently, and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, grinning with satisfaction even as he absently rutted his hips into the mattress in an attempt to ease the ache in his own groin.
She noticed that fact though, and quickly pulled him up so that he was hovering over her. Wrapping her arms around his neck and tugging him down on top of her, she crushed her mouth to his, moaning against his lips as his hardness, contained in boxer shorts, pressed against her oversensitized bundle of nerves at just the right angle.
"I want you inside me right now."
She mumbled against his lips, and he groaned, pressing his forehead against hers and trying to compose himself for a second.
"I'll never tire of hearing you say that."
He whispered, and her breath caught in her throat at the raw emotion she saw in his face. He pulled back a little then, to rid himself of his boxers with impressive speed, as she made quick work of getting rid of her sleep shirt, wanting to feel every inch of him pressed against her bare skin. Glancing over at the bedside table as she waited for him, her gaze fell on the box of condoms they'd left there. She had an IUD but still, she'd always been a stickler for 'double coverage', ever since Neal. She was terrified of ending up in the same situation as she'd been in back then, and she hadn't been with anyone long enough after him to even consider not using secondary protection, for STDs if nothing else.
Killian was different though. And she didn't know quite how to explain that. She knew, realistically, that the chances of her getting pregnant with her IUD were very slim, and he'd assured her he was clean. But still, she never would have imagined that she'd build up enough trust with him to see condoms as an option, rather than a given. Even from the first time, when they were strangers to one another, something had been different with him. And she'd broken her own double coverage rule, which was something she'd never done after Neal got her pregnant the night she gave him her virginity.
It had shaken her up, when she'd reflected on her actions the morning after her first night with Killian. She'd never been so desperate for someone that her own rules went out the window. He may not have finished inside her that time, but the fact that she didn't even tell him not to had stuck with her. From the very beginning, he'd gotten under her skin and into her head, making her feel all off-kilter with the powerful connection they shared.
And now, she'd made the choice not to use condoms with him multiple times. She wanted that to scare the hell out of her, but even when she tried to summon the fear, it never materialized.
"Do you want me to grab one?"
"Huh?"
Emma snapped out of her reverie and met Killian's gaze. She'd been staring at the box of condoms beside the bed with a faraway look in her eyes, and he'd watched her for a moment before gently breaking her out of her own thoughts.
"Do you want me to grab one?" He repeated, nodding toward the box, "It's entirely up to you, Emma. I don't want you to feel like just because we've done it a few times without them, that you can't ask for us to go back to using them. I'm happy either way, love. If you're more comfortable-"
Emma shook her head, swallowing the lump in her throat. She felt silly for getting emotional over a conversation about condoms. But it was the deeper meaning behind his words that resonated with her. He always let her lead. He always stopped to make sure she was happy with every aspect of what they were sharing. And he always made sure he was never taking her consent as a given, just because she'd given it previously.
"I don't want barriers," she whispered, cupping his cheeks and drawing his lips to hers in a brief, tentative kiss, "I want to feel all of you. I'm not uncomfortable with it, I just…you're the first person since I-…and I just…I trust you."
He understood with perfect clarity what she was struggling to verbalize, and the vulnerability in her words, along with how meaningful they were, made him want to utter the three words to her that had been on the tip of his tongue for awhile now. But he didn't want to scare her off, when she was finally, tentatively starting to acknowledge that what was between them was so much more than basic physical attraction. So, he held back, and instead kissed her fiercely, hoping she could feel the words, even if she wasn't ready to hear them.
They kissed heatedly, hands roaming desperately, until they'd maneuvered into their previous position. As he lined himself up, he paused and met her gaze again. She smiled softly at him, her body aching for the feeling of him seated fully inside of her.
"Emma…"
He said, voice cracking and barely above a whisper. She silenced him with a gentle kiss, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes.
"Make love to me, Killian."
She'd never experienced sex as a spiritual experience before, but as he pushed into her with a groan and immediately found a slow and steady pace, the world around them fell away until it was just the two of them. She gasped and arched beneath him on every downstroke, their bodies like jigsaw pieces that fit so perfectly they simply had to have been made for one another, and his lips found her neck. He pressed tender, open-mouth kisses against her skin, his teeth grazing her shoulder and making her tremble as her nails raked gently down his back.
Time all but meant nothing when it was like this, the two of them moving together and getting lost in one another. The pleasure built slowly for both of them, unhurried as they took each other gradually closer to the edge. Emma had always had the 'get off and get out' mindset when it came to sex; racing towards the finish line without really caring about the build up.
But Killian had shown her just how good it could be when she slowed down and enjoyed the journey, as well as the destination. She wasn't a fool though...in her heart, she knew it was only this good because it was with him. It was so much more than sex, so much more than a physical act, and it was because of the connection they shared that it went beyond that.
The pleasure ebbed and flowed as they moved, their lips finding one another in a passionate kiss punctuated by soft gasps and whimpers.
"You feel so good."
Emma whispered, clinging to him as he kissed his way down her neck once more. He thrust a little harder, hitting her at an angle that had her stomach muscles tightening, and she lifted her legs to lock her ankles at the small of his back. His rhythm faltered as he hit her deeper with the new angle of her hips, and he bit down gently on the sensitive skin at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.
"I could make love to you for the rest of my days."
He mumbled against her skin. And God, did she want that admission and all that came with it to terrify her. But in this moment, it didn't. It only pushed her closer to the edge, until she was whimpering, soft pleas falling from her lips until she stiffened and cried out. He whispered her name like a prayer as her walls tightened around him like a vice, pulling him under as his hips stuttered and he pulsed deep inside her.
They remained joined for long moments, neither willing nor able to move and break the spell. Emma ran her hands up and down his back mindlessly, contentment and the comfortable numbness of afterglow making her sleepy again. Eventually, he did roll off her, somewhat reluctantly, with a soft apology for crushing her. She smiled dreamily and shook her head, wondering if she looked as blissed out as he did.
He dragged himself out of the bed and moved to the bathroom (and Emma may or may not have indulged in the view as he went), returning a minute later with a warm washcloth. She mused over the level of ease and familiarity between them now, and how gentle and tentative he was as he helped her to clean up. There were so many things purposefully being left unsaid between them, and she knew that sooner or later they'd have to talk about all of it. But she hated the idea of anything changing this fragile, tender thing they shared.
It would all have to come crashing down eventually, because this wasn't real life. They were in a bubble, playing house and letting themselves indulge in each other while they had an excuse and the enforced closeness to do so. Thinking about the after, when they had to try and reconcile what their hearts wanted with the reality of their incompatible lives...she knew they were heading towards a whole lot of pain, a train wreck waiting to happen, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to derail the train before they reached the end of the line. Even when she knew it was going to hurt both of them more in the long run.
CS
After breakfast, they spent a few hours in the study, catching up on emails and adding bits and pieces to their case board. After that, they ventured down to the gym and worked out for a little while, showered, and then had a quick lunch together.
Having noted her limited wardrobe options as she changed, with most of what she'd brought sitting in their laundry room, Emma decided that she'd take a trip back to her apartment and collect a few more things. Partly because she was getting a touch of cabin fever, being cooped up in the house all day, and partly because she genuinely needed more clothes.
They hadn't anticipated still being out in the field by this point, but they also hadn't really known how long they should expect to be playing house either. So, she figured she'd just pick up a few more things, and it would allow her to check in on her apartment too. Perhaps even make a stop off at the station and check in with David and Will.
Killian had been all for it, and she left him in the study again, mulling over their makeshift case board and checking in with Belle. She made a mental note to stop on the way back for some extra large coffees and a box of pastries to fuel them both up when she joined him to work on whatever crumbs of the case that they could.
It didn't take her long to drive back to her apartment, and instead of parking on the street, she opted for the secure garage beneath the building. Just to be on the safe side. She wasn't driving her bug, and the SUV did blend in more easily in the city, but she aired on the side of caution anyway.
When she slipped her key into the lock and stepped inside her apartment, pile of mail under her arm that she'd collected from her mailbox on her way up, Emma wasn't exactly sure what she'd expected to feel...but it wasn't nothing. She thought maybe it'd feel like a relief to be back in her own space; a warm, comforting feeling of familiarity, perhaps. But instead, it just felt like any other apartment.
It was her things surrounding her, and everything was exactly the way she'd left it. But somehow, coming home didn't feel like coming home. And that realization caused a heavy knot of anxiety to tighten in her gut.
She tossed her keys onto the sideboard, the way she always did when she got home, and swallowed the lump in her throat as she walked through to the kitchen. Dropping her unopened mail onto the kitchen table, she let out a shaky sigh, hating that she felt so disconnected to the only place she'd ever really thought of as home. At least until this point in her life, anyway.
"What the fuck is wrong with me?"
She muttered to herself, as she restlessly made her way through the living room and to her bedroom. She'd come for some more clothes, after all. Stopping in the doorway, Emma stared at her bed. She'd only ever slept in that bed alone; she never invited guys back to her place. It was too intimate. The only man she'd ever had sleep there was Will, and that was because he'd refused to leave her alone after she'd been shot a few years back. He'd stayed and was supposed to sleep on the sofa, but they'd had one too many beers (and she still teased him for being a lightweight back then) while watching crappy movies with takeout on her bed. He'd passed out and she hadn't had the heart to wake him just to throw him out onto the sofa. He wasn't even under the covers.
That was as close as any man had been to her bed. A totally platonic sleepover with her best friend. So why could she so easily imagine Killian there? With his artfully disheveled hair and sleepy smile, padding through her apartment in his bare feet and no shirt. Playing house with him in the 'neutral territory' of their fake home out in Lexington was different to letting him into a space that had only ever been hers. And the pang of longing she felt when thinking about waking up with him here...well, that scared the shit out of her.
Feeling claustrophobic in her own apartment wasn't something she'd anticipated on her drive back to the city. But as much as she wanted to grab what she needed and get out, to make her way back to the pretty, fake life she was temporarily living in the suburbs, part of her also wanted to stay and fight this internal conflict that was suddenly overwhelming her, in the privacy of her own space.
It was a conflict between her head and her heart; a war that she'd unknowingly started the moment she'd met Killian. She'd tried to shove all the traitorous feelings down, telling herself over and over again that she could walk away from him, and the delicate thing between them, once the case was solved and they were free to go back to their lives. Everytime he'd kissed her, touched her, and made love to her, she'd forced herself not to acknowledge the whisperings that told her she'd let down too many walls with him to go back.
Consciously attempting to push down the rising anxiety that had her chest in a vice-like grip, Emma strode over to her closet and threw it open, her hands still shaking as she pulled out a few shirts and tossed them onto the bed she was now purposefully not looking at.
By the time she'd amassed a few more outfits in a pile, and stuffed them into one of her gym bags, she was feeling a little less panic-stricken. But anytime her gaze strayed to the bed, images of lazy mornings with Killian would emerge unbidden and she was strongly considering spending the afternoon in the gym, to work out her frustrations and anxieties, once she...
...once she got home, was the phrase that echoed around her head, taunting her with how instinctual it was.
"Goddamnit," she muttered, dropping down to sit on the bed and putting her head in her hands, angry at herself, "You've really fucked this up."
She was in too deep, and she had no idea how to claw her way out now. Not without crushing both of them in the process, anyway. But perhaps that was inevitable after all, and she had warned herself everytime she let him chip away another piece from her walls that the deeper she ventured into these waters, the less chance her heart would have of surviving the drowning.
Playing pretend with him hadn't ever meant to become so real. But here she was, sitting in her apartment, feeling like her home was on the other side of the city. And honestly, she wasn't quite sure if it was the house or the person she was sharing it with that had become more of a home to her now.
When she left the apartment, gym bag slung over her shoulder, there was a knot of dread in her stomach and a conflict raging in her heart. Apparently, no serial killer was needed for Emma's heart to be ripped out of her chest, because she was dead set on doing that to herself with the situation she'd gotten herself tangled in, and what she knew she had to do about it.
CS
"Swan! Mate...what you doin' 'ere?!"
Will practically fell off his chair, he moved so fast when Emma nonchalantly perched on the edge of his desk with a grin. She'd decided to swing by the station on her way back, partly to check in on how things were going, and partly because she genuinely missed the friends who were the closest thing to family that she'd ever had.
"I was picking up a couple things from my apartment, and figured I'd drop in to see you guys, check the place is still standing without me here to keep you in line."
She joked, the knot in her stomach from earlier lessening slightly in the comforting environment of her workplace, where nothing seemed to have changed since the day she left it a few weeks earlier. Will stood up and immediately pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. She squeaked, taken by surprise by such an open display of affection from her partner in the middle of the bullpen. Or...well, at all really. She wasn't a big hugger, and usually just felt awkward in someone's embrace, having never really had that kind of affection from anyone for most of her life.
Will, however, was a hugger. He just tended to refrain from it with her most of the time, knowing her aversion to spontaneous physical contact.
"Fukin' 'ell, am I glad to see you. I know we got your back with the cameras and that, but we're still all on-edge 'bout you bein' out there anyways. How you holdin' up? Is the hubby not with ya?"
He smirked, dropping back down into his chair and eyeing her knowingly. Emma could feel the traitorous blush on her cheeks, as she rolled her eyes at him and folded her arms.
"No, Killian isn't with me. He's at the house, updating our makeshift case board. Any updates for us?"
Emma eyed his computer screen, and Will grinned, his face lighting up.
"Actually, yeah. I was gonna call you later on, once I'd rounded up everythin' I've been diggin' into. But even better that you're 'ere. Check this out," he opened up another screen - an evidence summary sheet that she recognized, having completed thousands herself in her time on the force, "I've caught David up on some of this, but I was 'ere all night and he booted me out to get some sleep this mornin', so I've only been back an hour or so."
"Since when do you pull all-nighters, Scarlet? You're always the one trying to drag me out of here the minute our shifts finish."
It was Will's turn to roll his eyes, "Do you wanna see what I found or not? You and Dave are both pains in the arse, y'know that?"
She smiled serenely at him and he directed his attention back to the screen.
"Gold's wife. She was a Captain in the British Navy; high-ranking, pretty impressively decorated. She died from bleed on her brain, and I ran the limited report by one of our lot down in the Coroner's office...she said that's usually caused by a head injury, like a fall or an assault or summat, and it seemed like that was the case. But they never identified in any of the paperwork what it was that caused it. 'Inconclusive' in all those boxes."
Emma frowned, trying to piece together all the information, "You think Gold might've been involved in his wife's death? How does that link to our case?"
"Well, I'm not sure it does, other than havin' a nigglin' feelin' that there's more to it than the paperwork is givin' away. So...I managed to get a list of names of all the Navy personnel answerin' to Mrs.- uh, Captain Gold, around the time when she died. A few of 'em were promoted, and some have left the Navy, but I managed to get hold of one fella who emailed me back and said he'd call me tomorrow. We'll see if that gives us anythin' juicy."
Will drummed his pen on the desk with one hand while navigating to pull up another evidence summary sheet on his screen. Emma raised her eyebrows, whistling low.
"I don't think you've ever done this much work in all the years we've been partners."
She smirked, nudging his shoulder. Again, he rolled his eyes at her.
"You're just a regular bloody comedian, aren't ya? Gettin' laid clearly does wonders for your mood."
It was Will's turn to smirk when Emma smacked him over the head then, leveling a bemused glare on her partner as she huffed and folded her arms. She couldn't exactly deny what was going on between her and Killian; he'd seen it with his own two eyes, much to her chagrin.
"Anyways, we also had a bit more info come to light with the last two victims - the double homicide with the husband and wife. It's seemin' pretty likely that the hubby was an intentional victim, not just an improvisation or slip-up on the perp's part."
Emma's interest was piqued, and she gestured for him to continue.
"Well, turns out that the husband was aware of the pregnancy."
"But I thought he was in Europe for a year-?"
"He was," Will nodded, "But we pulled phone records for that year, and there's text conversations between 'em - long phone calls too, but we don't have recordings - suggestin' that they'd decided together to put the baby up for adoption. He was in Europe but he found out, or she'd told 'im, that she'd gotten knocked up by some other bloke."
"And he forgave her," Emma said slowly, "They stayed together and carried on their lives, baby not included...and if our killer found out about that, then in his eyes the husband was just as 'guilty' as the wife, in his eyes. Hence, the deviation from his previous MO. Damn, Scarlet, I'm impressed."
Will grinned at her smugly, and it was at that moment that David popped his head out of his office.
"Emma?! What's going on? Is everything alright?!"
He hurried over, concern etched into the frown creasing his forehead. Emma straightened up and nodded.
"Yeah, everything's fine, David, don't worry. I stopped by my apartment to pick some stuff up and check in on the place, so I figured I'd swing by and see you guys. Feels like it's been months since I was last here."
She smiled ruefully, glancing at her desk, which was exactly the way she'd left it. She'd never had so much time away from the office before, and it was somewhat comforting to be back in a familiar environment. That was how she'd expected to feel when she'd gone to her apartment too, and she was trying not to think too hard about why it hadn't felt so much like coming home.
Shaking those thoughts away, Emma smiled brightly in response to the affectionate shoulder squeeze David gave her.
"Your partner here has been doing some solid detective work. I'm pretty impressed."
"Me too. Maybe I'll have to go incognito more often, if it kicks his ass into gear like this."
Will leaned back in his chair and scowled at them like a petulant child.
"I'm sat right 'ere and I can hear ya, y'know," he grumbled, "And I'm perfectly capable of doin' me job, more than you two arseholes gimme credit for."
Emma smiled, once again perching on the edge of his desk, her voice soft when she spoke again.
"I know you are. Sorry, Scarlet. We're just playing; I wouldn't still be your partner if I thought you were anything but good at your job," she glanced at the clock, "Shit, better get back. We'll add all this new stuff you've found to our little case board, and call me tomorrow when you've spoken to that Navy guy?"
Will nodded his agreement, and Emma suddenly remembered the mental note she'd made the night before about having another camera fitted to cover the backyard, following her uneasy experience in the early hours. She wasn't about to tell him about her paranoia playing games with her instincts though, so she kept her tone as casual as possible.
"Oh, I almost forgot. Could we possibly have another camera fitted, to cover the backyard?" A flash of concern crossed David's face and Emma quickly held up her hands, "Everything's fine, it just occurred to me this morning that we back onto the nature reserve, so it might be useful to have the back of the house covered too. No sinister reason, just an idea."
David eyed her warily for a moment, and she shrugged. He seemed to relax then and nodded.
"It's a good idea. I'll make a phonecall and get the tech guys out to fit another one tomorrow. That alright?"
Emma nodded and turned once again to leave, but David pulled her into a tight hug as she did so. She tentatively hugged him back, patting his back slightly awkwardly.
"Uh, I'm fine, David, I promise. We're doing alright out there."
Will sniggered, muttering under his breath about them 'doing something alright' and she shot him a withering glare. David chose to ignore him, pulling back and studying Emma for a moment before nodding with a heavy sigh.
"We worry about you, even though we know you can handle yourself. I'll just be glad to get this case closed and have you home, that's all."
Emma gave him a small smile, choosing not to berate his fatherly sentiments this time.
"You and me both."
CS
"Killian, I'm...back."
Emma kicked the front door closed behind her, tossing her gym bag of clothes onto the the armchair in the hallway, shrugging off her jacket and kicking off her ankle boots. She'd caught herself before calling out that she was 'home', and grimaced slightly.
After her trip to her apartment and the station, she'd taken her time heading back to the house, stopping for two coffees and a catch-up with Granny. By the time she was pulling the SUV into the driveway, the sun had set and Emma's stomach was grumbling, reminding her that it was close to dinnertime. She'd been out all afternoon.
Heading toward the kitchen, she stopped short when she glanced into the dining room and stared at the table. It was set for two, with a single candle in the center, and it screamed romantic dinner. Swallowing thickly, she continued on to the kitchen, her heart fluttering with sudden nervousness at what she was walking into. Killian quickly turned to face her, wiping his hands on the towel he'd tucked into the waistband of his jeans and offering her a bright smile. But she could see he was nervous too.
"What's going on...what is all of this?"
She asked slowly, gaze flitting over the pots on the stove and the dishes in the sink as she placed the coffees she was carrying down on the counter. He rubbed his neck bashfully.
"Uh, well...I was hoping it could perhaps be...like a date. One where we don't have to pretend to be anyone we're not…" he dared a glance at her expression and cleared his throat, "But if not, then it can be just a regular dinner. I'll get rid of the candle."
Emma shook her head, squashing down the surge of butterflies in her stomach.
"No, it's-...you can leave the candle. It's...nice. This is all...nice," He looked at her with that spark of hope in his eyes, and she chewed on her bottom lip, "I mean...you've gone to a lot of effort. I don't think anyone's ever gone to this much effort for me before."
There was that momentarily pained look in his eyes again; the one she saw anytime she referenced her lack of good relationships in the past. She quickly changed the subject, looking down at her jeans-and-sheer-blouse combo.
"Should I, y'know, change or something? If this is...like a date?"
She chewed nervously on her lip once more, feeling out of her depth in a not-wholly-unpleasant way. She felt like a teenager, asked out on her first date by her first crush. Killian shook his head, pulling the towel out of his waistband and tossing it on the counter as he rounded the kitchen to approach her, those unfairly blue eyes of his causing the air to back up in her lungs.
"No, you look perfect, love. No need to change," he leaned forward and gently kissed her cheek, "Food will be ready in five minutes. Beer?"
She nodded, deciding she could fill him in on the updates from Will during dinner...or after. She wasn't really sure talking about murder was the greatest topic of conversation for a date. That said, she wasn't exactly well-versed on dating, so perhaps it was.
Besides, Will was going to call after he'd spoken to the Navy guy tomorrow, after all, so there would potentially be more updates then. And if she was tongue-tied over dinner, then she had work talk to fall back on.
Killian popped open a bottle of beer and handed it to her, gesturing for her to follow him through to the dining room.
"It looks...romantic."
She commented, with just a hint of awkwardness. He chuckled and pulled out a chair for her.
"M'lady."
Killian grinned, and Emma rolled her eyes, ignoring the blush she could feel heating her cheeks as she ducked her head and took the seat offered to her.
"Dinner will be served in a few minutes."
He grinned, disappearing back into the kitchen. Emma let out a long, shaky breath, wondering why her heart was racing with nervous energy. They'd been out for dinner together before, and they'd had sex quite a few times. So why were her hands shaking? And why did she feel like this somehow meant more than everything else they'd done together?
"It's just dinner. Stop being a total fuck up for once in your goddamn life."
She muttered to herself, knotting her hands together in her lap and trying to push down the rising anxiety that was making her chest feel tight. Killian appeared again a few moments later, balancing a plate on each hand. His smile wavered as he placed her plate down in front of her and caught the stricken look on her face before she quickly masked it with a tight smile.
"What's wrong? Do you...not like lasagne? Because I can make-"
"No! No, I mean, uh, yes. I do. I like lasagne. And it smells delicious."
She laughed nervously, pushing her hair back behind her ear as her knee bounced beneath the table. Killian placed his own plate down before slipping into his seat and setting his gaze on her with a small smile and a sigh.
"Emma. If you don't want this to be a date, it doesn't have to be. We can just be having a nice dinner, no pressure or strings attached. I didn't mean to make you so nervous, and you don't have to worry about hurting my feelings if it's a bit much for you-"
"I'm screwed up," she cut him off, the air whooshing out of her lungs, "I-I don't date. I don't know how. I've never...been on a real date before, and I'm the most emotionally fucked-up person I know. So, me being all jittery and weird - it's not a reflection on you, or whether I want this to be a date or not. It's just...me, being me. I'm not really the kind of woman that guys ask on dates. And even if I was...as I said, I'm pretty fucked up."
She dropped her gaze to her plate and picked up her knife and fork then, just for something to do with her shaking hands. Killian considered her across the table for a long moment, before finding his voice.
"Well, for what it's worth, love, I don't think there's a single person out there who isn't a little bit 'screwed up'. Me included. We've both had things in our pasts that have done a number on us. And I don't think I've exactly hidden the fact that I like you, Swan. Rather a lot. So...perhaps we can be just a little bit screwed up together."
Emma realized she was staring at him and quickly closed her mouth, swallowing the lump in her throat and hoping her voice wouldn't crack when she finally found it again.
"Killian...you're going back to Virginia. Your life is there, mine's here...sort of. I'm all for living in the moment or whatever, and this date...it's nice. No one's ever been as nice to me as you are. And the sex is amazing," she paused, trying to put her jumbled thoughts into a coherent sentence, "But we...this...whatever it is that's happening between us...we have an expiration date. So, maybe we can take it as it comes? We could catch the guy tomorrow, and you'd be off back to your life by the weekend. I don't-...I'm not good at opening up, and yet I've found it easy with you. And that scares the shit out of me, I'll be honest. I've told you more about my past in a matter of weeks than I've told my bestfriend in years," she sighed shakily, running a hand through her hair, "I guess what I'm trying to say is...I like you, too. A lot. So, maybe we can...just keep doing whatever it is we're doing, and enjoy it while it lasts."
Killian's smile had faded slightly, but he tried hard to mask the stab of disappointment he felt. He understood where she was coming from, but he also knew that if she said she wanted something more than what they had in this unconventional thing they'd accidentally found, that he would move heaven and earth to make it work. She was the first person since Milah who had actually made him feel. He wouldn't admit that and scare her off, but the whispers in the back of his mind telling him she was different, that he didn't want to just walk away from her at the end of the case...they were becoming much more difficult to ignore.
But Emma had made it extremely clear, from the moment they'd met, that she wasn't interested in a relationship. And that didn't seem to have changed, despite her edges softening a little the more time they'd spent together. Perhaps the fact that she saw them as having an expiration date was the reason she'd let herself fall into whatever this was that they had, though, he mused silently. He was safe, in her eyes, because his life was elsewhere, and she wasn't indefinitely committing to anything.
The stab of disappointment had turned into a heavy knot now, and it sat stubbornly in his stomach. Emma was staring down at her food as she picked at it, clearly uncomfortable with the silence they'd been plunged into while Killian was lost in his thoughts. He cleared his throat and she raised a wary gaze to meet his.
"Enjoy it while it lasts," he echoed her sentiment, giving her a small smile, "I can do that."
The conversation became a little easier after that, and by the end of dinner, both of them were a lot more relaxed. Emma filled Killian in on the updates of the case too, as they moved their empty dishes through to the kitchen. She added that Will was digging a bit more into Gold's past, too, but that there hadn't been anything to tie any of it to their case. Not yet, at least. She told him the little they knew as they loaded the dishwasher, the domestic ease coming so naturally to them that they didn't really have to think about it. Killian opened another beer for each of them, and then motioned to the patio doors.
"So, perhaps we can leave the rest of the work talk for tomorrow. Because I also have a little something planned for dessert."
Emma frowned in confusion, walking over to the patio doors with a suspicious look thrown over her shoulder at Killian. When she peered out, she could see pillows and blankets on the grass, and little candles dotted around, twinkling in the darkness of the backyard. She felt her heart skip a few beats as she stared out at the romantic display. He really had put some thought into this date.
When she turned to face him again, he had two bottles of beer in one hand and was scratching his neck with the other, a nervous smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"I hope it's not too much. I thought it might be nice to have dessert out there, seeing as it's quite a mild evening."
Emma gave him a flirty smile, pulse still fluttering despite the show of confidence.
"And just what kind of dessert did you have in mind, Jones?"
She teased, biting her lip as she watched the tips of his ears immediately turn pink.
"Well, ice cream, if I'm being honest," he chuckled, shaking his head, eyes darkening as he held her heated gaze, "But I can definitely think of something else I'd love to devour."
For a split second, she couldn't help but marvel at how he could go from bashful and sweet in one instant, to seductive and smooth in the next. It set her pulse on fire and she wasn't sure she'd ever become immune to it. Smirking at him, she reached for one of the beer bottles he held and canted her head to the patio.
"I think the ice cream can wait til later. I'm pretty interested in the something else though."
CS
It was pretty obvious what was going on. They might have been underneath blankets, but the soft moans and giggles, as Emma threw her head back and revelled in the attention her lover was lavishing on her, were not subtle.
They were in the backyard, for God's sake, and it was barely 9pm. Did they have no shame? It made his blood boil. Did her husband know what she'd done? Did he know she'd had a child and thrown it away like it meant nothing? Would he still be as enamored with her, kissing her neck and rutting into her under the blankets in the yard, the way he was currently doing, if he knew how cold-hearted she could be?
She'd been in the system, so she should know, better than anyone, what it could do to someone. And yet, she'd willingly put her own child into it, getting on with her life and finding her happiness regardless. But as the last husband had proven, some men could forgive a woman for tossing away a child. And he wasn't going to take the chance that this husband would be the same. He wasn't due to go away on any trips, from what he'd been able to find with his diligent research, and he worked from home. It didn't give him as much freedom with this one as he would have liked, and he probably could have chosen one of the other women on his list.
But he couldn't let her go.
Not now that he had her in his sights.
Gritting his teeth as he listened to her gasp and giggle, he backed away, not wanting to see anymore of the performance or alert them to his presence in the thick hedgerow. Making his way stealthily out of the trees and back toward his car, cursing her under his breath, he sat behind the wheel for a few moments, reining in his temper.
"Please can I go home now?"
A frightened little voice from the backseat pulled him out of his thoughts, and he glanced back at the boy. This was a deviation from his previous routine, but it would be worth it.
"No, kid. Not yet."
"But I thought we were just going for ice cream and now we've been gone for a few days and my mom and dad are gonna be worried-"
His voice shook, chin trembling, as he knotted his hands in his lap nervously.
"I'll get you ice cream again tonight, as long as you behave yourself. And then tomorrow, I have a surprise for you."
"A...surprise?"
The boy asked, wary but intrigued. He looked up toward the house, smirking, before he turned back to look at the child in the backseat.
"Yeah. You're going to meet your birth mother tomorrow, kid."
CS
Well, it's heating up! The Very Dramatic Stuff is close at hand, and I'm excited as hell about it, I don't know about you!
Thanks once again for the continued support with this labor of love. All feedback is greatly appreciated.