Cupid's Grenade
CS Genre: Canon divergence from early 3b
He crossed the town line into Storybrooke late on the night of February 12th. He walked for half a mile before he reached anything resembling civilization, wanting nothing more than a place to rest and regroup, a place to plan his next move.
It had been an extraordinarily bad year. So much discord, so much division everywhere he turned. It drained his energy, his very life source like nothing had since the last Ogre War. He needed an infusion, and he needed one fast. Thank the gods Valentine's Day was little more than a day away.
He passed a shop, dark and closed, caught his reflection in the picture window and jumped back, startled, bringing one wrinkled, bony hand to his equally wrinkled, bony face. He was even further gone than he'd previously believed. He could only hope the rumors about this sleepy little town were true.
"Storybrooke, that's where you want to go," the seer had assured him. "Not only is it the only source of magic in this land, but it's brimming with True Love, both that which is acknowledged, and that which is denied."
If he had any hope to survive the week, he needed that True Love.
If this world had any hope to survive, they needed him just as badly.
He walked slowly, laboriously, looking for the most opportune place. Town hall? No, it emitted angry energy, a place of discord. A brick building with a sign over the door calling itself The Rabbit Hole was promising, but still not quite right. Finally, he arrived at an establishment with tables and chairs on the terrace, a bright, neon sign proclaiming Granny's.
Perfect.
~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~
The next morning, Granny's
Killian stepped from his room in the bed and breakfast and headed downstairs to the cafe where he was to meet Swan and her parents for a quick strategy meeting while they dined on Granny's delectable fare.
He smiled to himself, an extra spring in his step as he walked. The situation in which the residents of Storybrooke found themselves was, once again, less than ideal. An unknown, unnamed villain had cursed them back to Storybrooke and wiped their memories of the past year, and no one had any idea why. He should be concerned; he knew he should, but he couldn't stop the joy that bubbled up within his heart.
Selfish though the thought was, he was grateful for the villain's machinations, grateful for the curse.
For it was the curse that allowed him to cross worlds, the curse that allowed him to be reunited with his Swan, the curse that ended the hell that had been the last year without her.
Oh, he'd tried to convince himself that he'd merely needed to return to his pirate lifestyle, but every step he took away from her, away from the hero he'd tried to become for her, had felt wrong, made him feel her loss even more acutely.
Slowly, but surely he'd come to realize that it was more than just the loss of the love of his life that made his pirate activities lose their luster. He'd changed. Not just because of her, but because of himself. He wanted to be a good man, a hero.
Killian stepped into the cafe. Early though it was, the sun had barely come up, the establishment was already brimming with business. He scanned the tables until he saw her sitting at a booth across from her parents.
His heart turned over. She was so bloody beautiful, so bloody precious to him.
He knew she was hesitant to embrace life here in Storybrooke once again. She loved her parents, held at least some amount of affection for him, but the weight of being The Savior hung heavy on her. He couldn't blame her for wishing to retain the seemingly peaceful existence she'd lived with her lad in New York.
Still, she'd come back with him, had agreed to help her family, the whole town, defeat the newest threat to their safety. He could only hope to one day exhibit half her courage and selflessness.
"Hook, you finally made it," Swan said, scooting over and patting the seat next to her. "After all your talk about being a pirate and rising with the sun I thought I was going to have to go up and drag your butt out of bed."
Killian gratefully took the seat next to Emma, using all his willpower to avoid imagining Emma coming to his bed.
"I rise with the sun, darling," he said with a grin, "but it would seem you lot couldn't wait for that auspicious occasion."
Emma looked down, playing with the handle of her mug of cocoa. "Yeah, well we wanted to make sure and meet early enough that we could talk before Henry wakes up. Don't want the kid to get freaked out with mentions of curses and villains and whatever other crap we need to discuss. He doesn't have his memories, after all."
Snow White reached across the table and covered her daughter's hand on her mug. "Don't worry, honey. We'll find a way to bring back Henry's memories. Somehow. And until then everyone here has agreed to live like that sleepy, normal town we thought we were during the curse."
Emma glanced aside, a look of guilt on her face, and not for the first time, Killian wondered if she even wanted her son to regain his memories. He could feel the turmoil coming off of her in waves and he wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and sooth the tension away.
But he knew his Swan better than that. She'd rebuilt the fortress around her heart over the last, long year of separation, and it would take him some time to help her disassemble it; some time before his advances were once again tolerated, let alone welcomed.
"Okay," Emma said, after a deep breath, "so we know someone cursed you. We know a year has gone by that you don't remember. We know crossing the town line turns people into, I can't believe I'm going to say this, flying monkeys. Anything else I'm missing?"
"I had a conversation with the dwarfs," David answered, "and after their latest patrol at the town line, they found…"
Suddenly the door to the diner was slammed open, the bell above ringing angrily. The entire diner went silent, still, as the oldest man Killian had ever seen walked slowly in until he was standing in the very center of the room. Dressed all in red, quite the dapper tuxedo and top hat at that, the man walked, hunched over, leaning heavily on a cane. Every eye was on him as he stopped, looked at the gaudy Valentine's Day decorations Granny had hung, shaking his head at the Cupid with his bow and arrow, and then reached into his breast pocket.
Killian watched, fascinated as he pulled out a small red object in the shape of a heart, pulled a pin from its center, tossed it to the floor and then slowly began walking away.
"Grenade!" Leroy shouted as the object began smoking.
Chaos ensued as the cafe's patrons scrambled to reach the exits, but it was clear they'd never be free of the building in time. Killian reacted on instinct, moving to cover Swan's body with his own just as a large "boom!" filled the diner as the heart-shaped object exploded.
He waited for the shock, the pain as the explosive blasted him, but it never came. He looked up to see nothing but a pink, shimmering cloud billowing from the heart, suffusing the diner, and then dissipating.
For a moment he felt an intense burst of love and longing for the woman beside him, and he instinctively looked down into her startled eyes, but then she blinked, and the spell was over. Killian shook his head and sat up, resuming his own seat on the bench.
For a moment, a shocked silence fell over the room, and then an excited buzz began as Granny's patrons realized they had indeed survived the...whatever the blazes that had been.
"What the hell was that?!" Emma ground out.
"I don't know," Dave said, "but I have a feeling we really need to find out."
~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~
Later that afternoon
"Cupid? You're telling me that old guy was Cupid?"
Emma ground her teeth in frustration, keeping her hands resolutely in her jeans pockets lest she do something stupid like grab her pirate (no! Not her pirate) and kiss the daylights out of him.
What was wrong with her?
After the heart grenade had gone off in Granny's this morning, she, her parents and Hook had found Belle in Gold's shop to pick her brain, see if she had any idea who the mysterious old man was.
Of all the answers Belle could have given them, "It appears Cupid has come to Storybrooke," was the last one Emma had expected.
Of course Cupid was real too, because...of course he was.
Belle reached under the counter and retrieved an old book decorated with flowers and hearts. Flipping through several pages, she turned the tome toward them, pointing to a photograph of a very old man.
"That's him," Snow said, "that's the man who...did whatever he did to us."
"Like I said," Belle said, turning the book back toward her. "It seems we've been visited by Cupid."
"Who and what is Cupid?" Killian asked from her side. (Emma ground her teeth again, determinedly ignoring the way his velvety voice made the butterflies in her chest flutter and come to life. Ignoring the intense affection she suddenly felt for him. Ignoring the sudden desire to lace her fingers with his.)
"Best I can tell," Belle said, "he's a deity of some kind. He, for lack of a better word, feeds on love. It's his source of sustenance. The more the world around him is depleted of love, the older, frailer he becomes."
"And what does that have to do with the grenade or whatever that he tossed at us?" Emma asked.
Belle flipped a couple of pages, and then pointed down at a passage of text. "That's the interesting part. You see, February 14, Valentine's Day is his big day of love harvest every year. His grenades contain a powerful spell that...encourages love and affection in everyone on which the spell falls. It reaches its peak in 24 hours, which makes today, February 13 the perfect day to launch it."
Emma groaned. "A love spell? Are you telling me freaking Cupid cast a love spell on all of us? One that won't wear off until tomorrow?"
"I'm afraid so," Belle answered.
Well, that was just...just…
Actually that was kind of reassuring.
From the second that damn grenade had gone off, Emma had been feeling things she couldn't explain, things she didn't want to feel, things she'd been working hard at denying ever since Neverland, maybe even before.
As soon as the spell had cleared, she'd looked up into Killian's intense blue eyes and felt wave after wave of want, of longing, of...of...love crash over her. She wanted to hold him, kiss him, hold his hand, touch him.
But that wasn't the worst part. Physical attraction she could handle. Hook was hot, there was no denying that. Feeling a physical pull to him, that was understandable. If she didn't think it would give him the wrong impression, she'd have no problem giving into her urges. She'd had plenty of one-nighters in the past.
But it wasn't just physical attraction she felt following the pink, sparkly cloud. No, it was emotions as well. She had the sudden need to talk to him alone, to tell him that she'd somehow missed him during the last year, even though she didn't remember him. That some part of her had been so intensely happy to see him there at her apartment door that she could hardly contain herself. That his attempted True Love's Kiss...she didn't knee him because he'd assaulted her, she'd kneed him because it felt right, like she was coming home and that totally freaked her out. She wanted to tell him she was glad he'd found her, glad he was by her side, glad he'd brought her home.
But that, all of that, was crazy. She didn't do emotions, didn't let herself be that vulnerable with another person, someone who could destroy her if she let him.
So all things considered? Finding out she was feeling all this due to a stupid love potion was a relief.
All she had to do was grin and bear it until the spell wore off tomorrow and then everything would be back to normal.
~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~
Granny's Bed and Breakfast, February 15, 2 hours before dawn
Emma tossed and turned, her fitful sleep punctuated by dreams. Disturbing, troubling dreams.
Dreams where she walked with Hook, hand in hand, down by the docks. Where they talked and kissed. He smiled at her and she smiled back. They were both radiantly, blissfully happy. He led her back to his ship (where was his ship, by the way? She was pretty sure she hadn't seen it since they'd come back to Storybrooke), down to his captain's quarters.
She teased him about his tiny bed, he'd laughed along with her, wiggling his expressive eyebrows in that ridiculous way of his, joking that it wasn't the size, it was what you did with it. He'd swaggered to her, invaded her space, threaded his fingers through her hair as he leaned down and captured her lips….
Henry mumbled something in his sleep, and Emma woke with a start.
The dream had been so damn lifelike. She could still feel Killian's hand in her hair, feel his lips against hers. Bringing a hand to her chest, Emma willed her heart rate to slow. Why was this happening to her?
The last 36 hours had been torture. Pure, beautiful, intense torture.
Her feelings for Killian had grown and strengthened as the 13th and then the 14th wore on, and though she knew they weren't real, knew they were caused solely by Cupid's stupid love spell, more than once she'd almost cracked, almost thrown caution to the wind and bared her heart to the man who was constantly in her thoughts.
Emma had been half sure Hook would use the curse to try to get close to her. She was afraid he'd declare himself again, try to force her into an awkward conversation about the feelings they held for each other, but she needn't have worried. Killian seemed no more eager to explore the effects of the love spell than she was. He'd left the library soon after Belle explained their predicament, and he'd kept his distance ever since.
He's giving you space. He doesn't want to pressure you, to take advantage. He's always a gentleman.
Emma felt a rush of affection yet again, and that alone frustrated her beyond belief. It was February 15, the day after Valentine's Day. Why hadn't the spell worn off?
Emma groaned, getting up and tossing on a sweatshirt and slippers. Clearly she wasn't getting anymore sleep tonight. Better she go down to the diner and get some cocoa rather than risk waking Henry with her frustration.
"Hey, Ruby," she said on a yawn, settling on a stool at the counter. "Hope I didn't startle you. I know you're not exactly open yet."
"Emma!" she said, stepping around the counter and giving Emma a quick hug. "I'm a wolf, remember? Heard you tossing and turning half the night. Something on your mind?"
Emma buried her head in her hands. "Got any cocoa?"
"Uh oh," Ruby said, turning to give Emma her full attention. "Is this a regular cocoa with cinnamon conversation or a cocoa with rum conversation?"
"Rum," Emma mumbled. "Definitely rum."
Ruby tossed her a sympathetic smile, and then turned toward the kitchen. A few minutes later she returned with a fragrant, steaming mug of cocoa. Sliding it Emma's way, Ruby leaned on the counter. "Okay, spill. What's going on?"
"So who was it with you?" Emma asked. "You were here the other morning when Cupid dropped his bomb. Who'd it make you think you love?"
Ruby gave her a strange look. "Who'd it make me….? Emma, what are you talking about?"
"You know, the grenade thing," Emma said. "I figure it made you think you were in love with the closest person to you. Something like that? I was just wondering who it made you love."
"Emma, you know magic can't make you fall in love with someone, right?"
Emma shrugged, then took a sip of her cocoa. "I know it can't create real love, but I mean, it was a spell, right? Maybe it makes people think they're feeling things they aren't."
Ruby's smile was far, far too knowing. "Hook right?"
"What?"
"After the whole love cloud thing, it was Hook that you fell for."
Emma groaned, making Ruby smile all the wider. "Knew it! Knew the hot pirate had your panties in a twist."
"Ruby!"
"Sorry," she said, looking anything but. "I just call 'em like I see 'em, and from what I see of the two of you around here everyday? Yeah the sparks flying from the two of you could start a forest fire."
Emma felt her cheeks flush and buried her face in her hands again. "Ruby, it was just…"
"Don't even think about saying it was just Cupid's grenade," Ruby said, "because, one, I've seen the two of you together since long behind that old man dropped his love bomb on everyone. Two, like I told you, no magic can create love. And three, you know who I suddenly fell in love with?"
Emma looked up, one eyebrow raised in question.
"No one," Ruby said. "Nothing changed for me at all. You know why that was? It's because if there is a person for me out there, they're not here in Storybrooke."
"But the cloud…"
Ruby shook her head. "Emma, you and your family aren't the only ones who talk to Belle and do research, you know. After Cupid's little stunt I paid her a visit too. Wanted to know what was going on as much as you guys did. I discovered that Cupid feeds on love. Real love. True love. Fake, artificially created love would do nothing for him. So his spell doesn't make people feel things they don't; it just helps people focus on the things they actually feel."
Emma's heart pounded. "So you're telling me, the hell I've been going through for the past day and a half…"
Ruby grinned again. "Yep. You, Emma Swan, have the hots for Killian Jones. Cupid or no Cupid. Besides, Cupid's spell wore off several hours ago. If it was fake, you'd have gone back to normal by now."
Emma took one last swig of her cocoa and then carefully placed the mug back on it's coaster. "So what am I supposed to do with this now? How am I supposed to proceed?"
Ruby shrugged, walking to the diner's door, turning the lock and flipping the sign to open. "That's totally up to you, but my two cents? Go talk to him. Tell him what you're thinking and feeling. That unsettling feeling isn't going to go away until you do."
~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~
Killian heard a soft tentative knock on his door and he groaned, swimming reluctantly from the depths of sleep. He'd been having such a good dream, such a beautiful dream. He'd walked with Swan by the docks, taken her aboard the Jolly (how he missed his old girl, though he'd barter her away a million times if it meant he could be with Swan). She'd joked with him about the size of his bunk. He'd kissed her….
Knock, knock, knock
Killian groaned, noting from the pitch black of his window that it was not even dawn yet. He hoped whoever was out there had a bloody good reason for disturbing him.
Tossing on a white undershirt and flannel sleep pants, Killian padded to the door and threw it open.
His irritated "What?" died on his lips when he saw his visitor. Bathed in the soft light of Granny's hallway, her hair soft against her shoulders, Swan looked like an angel. Killian resisted the urge to pinch himself, half convinced he was still dreaming.
He swallowed hard.
"So, um, can I come in?" she asked with a self-conscious little smile.
Killian snapped his mouth shut and quickly stepped back, gesturing with his hook for her to enter while he flicked the switch that bathed his room with light.
"Of course, love," he said quickly. "Please, have a seat."
She looked around and sat on the edge of the second double bed in his room, the one he had not used, and then looked down, picking at a loose thread on the counterpane.
She's nervous.
Killian's curiosity was piqued. Why had she come to him at this time of the morning? What could have her so rattled?
"So," he said finally, when it was clear she wasn't going to speak first, "what brings you to my room, love?"
"It's just…" She started, before abruptly standing and turning toward the door. "Ugh, this was a mistake. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have disturbed you."
He rose quickly, stepping between her and the door. "Please, Swan. Something's obviously on your mind. Share your burden with me?"
She took a deep breath, and then nodded.
"It's the whole Cupid love spell thing," she said finally.
Killian suddenly looked aside, hand absentmindedly coming up to scratch behind his ear. "Love, you needn't say anything. I've no wish to pressure you, no wish to hear a declaration bourne artificially out of a spell…"
"That's just it," she said, stepping into his space, placing her hands on his arms. "I...I...it didn't go away. The spell wore off yesterday, right? I'm still feeling everything I was feeling then."
He looked at her quickly, eyes widened, hope blooming within him in spite of himself. "What are you saying, love?"
"I'm saying...look, I don't know what I'm saying," she said, taking his hand and pulling him until they were seated, facing each other on his bed. "But there's, there's something there between us. I'm really glad it was you that found Henry and me in New York. I'm glad you came back to Storybrooke with me. I, I feel better with you beside me. I'm grateful that you're there to listen when, you know, things get to be too much. I can't guarantee I won't get scared again, and I can't guarantee I won't, I don't know, build walls again, but I just wanted to let you know, at least once, that if we ever just have a peaceful moment in this town...maybe I'd be willing to see where things could go."
His heart turned over, and he reached up to cup her cheek, couldn't help himself. Smiling gently, he leaned down and kissed her softly, almost reverently. "Swan," he breathed on a sigh. "You've no need to thank me. By your side is where I'll always wish to be."
"Good," she said softly before leaning in to return his kiss with interest.
~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~
He stopped outside Granny's Bed and Breakfast and looked up at the single illumined window. Breathing deeply, he smiled to himself. His harvest was complete, and what a harvest it had been!
Passing the same shop he'd passed on his way into town he took a look at his reflection. He stood tall and strong, skin smooth and youthful, hair sandy and neatly combed. He was young and handsome once more.
He started walking toward the edge of town but then stopped, thinking better of it. It was true what they said about this town; it was overflowing with love. Perhaps he'd stick around for a while.
Notes:
-Whew! That was a long chapter, but since it's a Valentine's Day fic, I didn't want to split it up. This was kind of my take on the "sex pollen" trope except, of course, without the sex.
-Up next: (In 2 weeks) Deleted scene from 6a: Killian's move in day. Killian shows Emma his small trunk of things in much the same way she showed him her box of treasures in 4x5.