A/N: This is a birthday gift for my good friend, An (onceuponaprincessworld). Thank you for always being supportive and encouraging and well, for putting up with me :) Hope you have an awesome day, love!
Inspired by the Dirty Text Challenge on Tik Tok that was trending awhile back, where you send a dirty text to your significant other and record his reaction when he reads it. There was one video in particular that made me want to write this for CS, and it was by realkayjane. She posted a video of her best friend reading a text she sent him in a bar, and then they started dating. It very well could've been staged, or maybe not, I honestly don't know. Nevertheless, I wanted to write it, so here it is.
Killian's phone vibrates from his pants pocket for the second time since he's been at The Rabbit Hole that evening, but he continues to ignore it. What could possibly be more important than hanging out with his best friend at their favorite bar anyhow?
"Aren't you gonna answer that?"
"It can wait," Killian says, waving off her question and taking a swig of his rum.
"It might be important."
Killian glances up at her from over the rim of his tumbler.
More important than being with you?
Unlikely.
His phone vibrates once more, but he still doesn't move to retrieve it.
She cocks her brow, giving that castigating look. A look that tells him he should answer his phone.
So he sighs and reluctantly digs it out, seeing three text messages from the same person.
Unknown: Hey Killian. It's Tina. David gave me your number. I hope you don't mind.
He groans.
Yes, I do mind. Bloody hell, Dave, why did you have to give her my number?
Unknown: Are you free tonight?
Definitely not.
Unknown: You can come over if you want.
He's never even been on a single date with Tina.
Killian thinks about how he will politely decline.
"Who is it? If it's David, I swear, he better either be in jail or the hospital if he's interrupting our evening."
Killian's cheeks heat with blush, and he has to suppress the smile threatening his lips.
She said our evening .
Killian scratches behind his ear, reluctant to tell her the texts are from some woman David's trying to set him up with. "Uh, it's… it's no one."
Emma grins, clearly not buying it. "Doesn't seem like no one. You're blushing."
Not for the reasons you probably think.
He chuckles nervously. "Truly, it's no one important."
Emma cocks her head to the side.
Damn her for knowing him so well. For being able to tell when someone is lying to her. Tina is really no one important to him—he barely knows her, if at all. He spoke to her one time, and that was when David introduced her to him. They chatted for all of ten seconds. So he's not exactly lying to Emma. But she thinks he's blushing over the person sending him the texts. She doesn't know she is the one he is blushing over.
He's about to slip his phone into his pocket, but before he can, Emma grabs his arm with one hand and steals the device with her other one. She's so quick and smooth, he doesn't have time to stop her.
Killian gulps as she checks his phone.
Her eyes light up with amusement when she sees the messages from Tina and reads them out loud. Then she looks up at him, raising her brow. "Why didn't you tell me you had a girlfriend?"
Killian reaches over the table and plucks the phone from her hands with a heavy sigh. "She's not my girlfriend. Your brother is trying to set me up with her."
She picks up her strawberry daiquiri, knitting her brows in confusion. "Sounds like you've already hooked up with her." She brings the glass to her lips, taking a sip as he watches her intently.
"We haven't even been on one date."
She nods, lowering her drink as she swallows. "So, are you going over to her place?"
He wishes he could read minds right now because he can't tell if she's asking about Tina because she's just curious or if she's asking because she's jealous.
Definitely the first option, he thinks.
He shakes his head. "Of course not." A small smile plays at his lips. "Why would I go to her place when I'm already with my favorite person in the entire world?"
Emma's cheeks paint with blush as she sets her drink down and crosses her arms on the tabletop. "Because obviously you'd be getting laid."
"Well, you know me, Emma. I'm too much of a gentleman to just go over to a woman's home who I barely know and get my rocks off."
She smirks and teases him playfully. "I know. So are you at least going to ask her on a date?"
He stares at Emma for a moment, trying to figure out how to properly answer her question without baring his soul to her. So he settles on a flat-out lie. "I haven't decided yet."
He hates this.
He hates not being able to tell his best friend he's madly in love with her.
And he'd nearly blurted it out over an intense game of Mario Kart a few days ago.
"Fuck me!" Emma whines after losing another round against him and nearly throwing the controller across the room (she probably would have if David hadn't plucked it from her hands).
Killian is busy trying to recover from her expletives and how her words had shot straight through him. He knows he should just keep his mouth shut, because, for one... her brother is in the room and two… well, he would very much like to take her up on that offer. No actually, he doesn't want that, and that's the problem. He wants so much more than that. He's had so many fantasies about being with Emma, but they all involve things like taking her out on a proper date, holding her hand, kissing her, making love to her. So no, he doesn't want to fuck her. He wants a future with her, one which involves being more than her best friend. Gods, he wants so much more than that. But he's not willing to give up any less than what he already has. So, instead of revealing his true feelings, he covers them up with a playful quip. "Is that an invitation, love?"
The look she gives him makes his heartbeat quicken, one corner of her lips curving up into a shy smirk, her cheeks reddening as he feels David's stare burning into him.
"Why? You offering?" she retorts.
Killian stares at his best friend in shock, his mouth slightly agape. "Maybe I a — "
Before he can finish his reply, David threatens him with a deadly glare and cuts him off. "No, it's not an invitation and no, he's not offering," he answers for both of them.
And that is one of the other reasons why Killian hasn't had the guts to tell Emma how he really feels. Okay, it's the main reason. Because not only could it destroy his friendship with her, but also his friendship with her brother.
Emma scowls at David and snatches the controller from his hands. "Who died and made you king?"
David mimics her in a whiny voice and Emma retaliates by shoving him in the arm.
"Ow!" He rubs the spot where she'd hit him, and sticks his tongue out at her. "Brat."
She does it back. "Dork."
Killian chuckles . He's always thouroughly entertained by their little sibling squabbles.
"One more game, Jones?" Emma asks him.
And that was that. They played another round, which she won, and neither of them spoke of the words exchanged that night.
Which makes tonight pretty awkward, considering it's the first time Killian's actually been alone with Emma since then. Well, if you consider sitting together in a booth at a crowded bar, alone. So to dial down the awkward tension between them, Killian keeps the drinks coming so the alcohol will ease the nerves in his stomach.
But the problem with alcohol is the effects it has.
The first one is giggliness.
Emma is adorable when she's sober, but when she's drunk, she is extra adorable. She can't say three words in a row without giggling.
That effect, mixed with the second one, is bound to lead to things he's not sure he's prepared for. Especially not while they're drunk.
Oversharing.
Not that they don't already know everything there is to know about each other, but when he's trying to keep his biggest secret from his best friend… well, that presents quite the problem when he's drunk. At least he still has enough presence of mind to know how much to overshare.
"Must be nice to have women throwing themselves at you, Jones. I swear, if it wasn't for my vibrator, I'd probably have cobwebs!" she exclaims over the noisy bar chatter.
Killian shudders at the images her confession is supplying him with. He's certainly not imagining her using said vibrator. And he's fairly certain she wouldn't have to worry about cobwebs if she didn't have a vibrator. Emma could have any man she wanted. He's one of them. "I'm definitely not getting laid as often as you make it sound," he retorts with a chuckle. "Or as much as I'd like to."
"Please!" she snorts. "You could have your cock licked by every woman at this bar with a snap of your fingers if you wanted to."
Testing her theory, he snaps his fingers and looks around. "Where are they, love?" Not that he has any interest to get his cock licked by anyone at this bar. Or anyone, really. Anyone except the gorgeous blonde sitting across from him with the most beautiful emerald green eyes he's ever seen and a smile that sets his heart on fire as she bursts out laughing.
"You're ridiculous."
"I'm just being honest," he says before draining the last of his rum.
She taps her empty glass with her nails. "One more round?"
He nods and raises his hand to summon the server.
"But first, I have to pee. My bladder is about to burst." She rises from the booth, and he follows her with his eyes as she makes her way to the restrooms.
Emma's a bit lightheaded as she leaves the ladies' room, but not nearly as much as she's led on. She was hoping to drop hints to Killian without repelling him. But she's afraid she's completely failing. How does one exactly go about telling her best friend of five years she's completely in love with him?
She has no fucking clue.
"I told you, Emma, you should try it!" Mary Margaret screeches through the phone.
Emma pulls the device away from her ear, lest she go half-deaf by the sheer volume of her sister-in-law's voice. "And I told you, I'm not doing that," she protests, leaning back against the wall of the corridor outside the restrooms.
"Why not? You'll be able to see how interested he is without having to tell him how you feel to his face."
"But what if he's not?"
"Oh Emma, do you really not know your best friend? He's interested, trust me!"
"Has he said anything to you or David?"
"Of course not. But that doesn't mean he's not interested in you. It just means he's not interested in getting clocked in the face by your brother."
"And if you're wrong? Then what?"
Mary Margaret sighs. "If I'm wrong—which I'm definitely not—then you can just tell him you meant to send the text to someone else."
"But who? I just told him I have an exclusive relationship with my vibrator."
"Then maybe one of your past flings? I don't know, Emma, you'll come up with something. But I'm like one hundred and ten percent sure you won't have to."
Emma sighs in exasperation and defeat. "Fine, but if this ends badly, I'm only blaming you."
She can almost hear her sister-in-law's grin from the other line, even though she can't see her. "Fine. If I'm wrong, I'll take full responsibility. In fact, if I'm wrong, I'll buy you grilled cheese sandwiches every day for an entire year."
Hmmm, that does sound appealing."With onion rings?"
"I'll buy you the whole freaking menu at Granny's if you want."
"Okay," Emma laughs. "And if you're right, what do you want?"
"If I'm right, I will already have everything I could possibly want."
"And what's that?"
"Well, besides your brother, obviously, the knowledge that you and Killian will live happily ever after, of course."
Emma's heart warms at her sister-in-law's sentiment. If only love could be that simple. Just offer her heart to Killian and receive his in return. But this isn't some fairytale or romance novel where the heroine rides off into the sunset with her handsome hero. This is real life. "Okay." Suddenly the idea of what she's about to do makes her heart flitter in panic. "So I'm actually doing this?"
"You're doing this. And you won't regret it. Now put on your big girl pants and go get your man."
After they end the call, Emma lowers the phone from her ear and with shaky hands, pulls up her text conversations with Killian. She sucks in a deep breath and releases it slowly, her breath wobbly. Gnawing on her bottom lip, she types a text with shaky fingers, erases it, retypes it and repeats that cycle three more times before she's satisfied with the message. At first, she didn't want to send anything to Killian that she wouldn't be able to defend and say it was meant for someone else. But then she thought, screw it. She can blame it on the alcohol.
For years, she's been wanting to tell her best friend how she really feels about him, and when she finally scrounged up the courage to tell Mary Margaret, her sister-in-law suggested this hair-brained scheme she came up with after watching these trending Tik Tok videos of women sending their boyfriends or husbands dirty texts in public and recording their reactions. Since Killian isn't her boyfriend or husband, Mary Margaret thought it would be a great idea to find out whether he likes her or not. Or rather, prove to a stubborn Emma he's secretly in love with her.
Well, she's about to find out. Here goes nothing...
She peers around the corner of the hallway entrance and does a quick check to make sure he didn't leave and go into the men's room or something. When she spots him across the room, still sitting at their booth, she sends off the text. Then she quickly pulls up the camera on her phone and starts recording, her heart pounding. It's pounding so loud she can hear it in her ears over the loud music and boisterous bar chatter.
His phone lights up on the table and he sets down his tumbler to pick up the device.
Emma watches him with bated breath, hoping and praying this wasn't a mistake. Hoping his reaction won't be the same reaction he had when he received those texts from Tina. Emma had done her best to hide her emotions when she saw that skank's text messages. She had to swallow her words and shove down her jealousy, but when she remembered that look of irritation written all over Killian's face as he read those texts, she realized why he was irritated. Needless to say, she was relieved beyond belief.
Through her phone, Emma watches as Killian's mouth falls open, his eyes big and wide as he stares at his screen.
Emma has no idea what he's thinking right now, but she really wishes she did. Is he happy, excited, turned on? Or is he pissed off, disappointed, disgusted? She's usually pretty good at reading her best friend, but right now it's like trying to read a blank page.
He lifts his head and looks toward the restrooms, so she quickly retreats inside the hallway, keeping her phone in place so it's still recording him. She presses her back against the wall, as though the opposite wall is closing in on her, and she's trying to draw in as much air into her lungs before she's suffocated to death.
Shit, shit, shit.
What if Mary Margaret's plan didn't work? What if Emma scared him away?
Cautiously and carefully, she turns her head and looks around the corner again.
To her utter horror, Killian is not in the booth.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why did she send him the text?
In panic mode, Emma brings her hand back and stops recording as she flattens against the wall again and contemplates shooting Killian another text saying she sent the text by mistake.
She starts typing out a message.
Emma: Sorry, that text was for someone else. Ooops, my bad.
But then she sees the text she'd sent and realizes she made it impossible to say it wasn't meant for him because of what the text said.
Nope, she definitely can't talk her way out of that one.
Before she can erase the message and type out how sorry she is, her phone is being slipped from her hands.
She's about to lose her shit when she looks up and gasps as her eyes meet vivid blue ones.
Killian's looking at her with a hungry—no, primal—stare.
And just like that, all of her oncoming anger melts away.
Emma can't move. She can't speak, she can't even breathe. This man has impaired her ability to do anything other than stare back at him, waiting for him to speak. Her stomach is clenching and her heart is racing under the heaviness of his stare.
She doesn't even give two flying fucks when he slips her phone into his pocket.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he leans into her space and murmurs in her ear. "You said I could have any woman in the bar licking my cock at a snap of my fingers..." His voice is decadent and drops an octave when he speaks again. "What if I told you, you could have one man licking your pussy at the snap of yours?"
She gulps hard and just stares at him in shock. He's joking, right? But she's known him for five years and can't detect a single trace of mocking in his words.
Without breaking her challenging stare, she lifts her hand.
And snaps her fingers.
Without hesitation or any preconceived thought, Killian takes her hand in his and leads her into the ladies' room, locking the door behind them. He backs her against the sink and draws her into his arms, a wave of desire so profound sweeping through her, it leaves her trembling in his muscular arms, clinging to his body like a lifeline. When he lifts her up and sets her on the edge of the sink, their mouths find each other, their lips moving with a need that burns like a fire inside them both. She slides her arms around his neck, her lips fused to his, her tongue swirling and exploring his mouth as her breasts are pressed deliciously against his chest.
Killian holds her flush against him, his tongue mingling with hers in a sensual ballet of lips and flesh that leaves them both panting. She moans softly into his mouth as he rubs at her back, squeezing one of her ass cheeks in his free hand.
She can't believe she's actually kissing Killian. Her best friend. And he is every bit the kisser she knew he would be. His tongue flicks against hers so expertly and he's groaning, his guttural sounds vibrating through her, shivers running down her spine, her skin tingling all over. Her stomach is coiled in anticipation at the thought of that same tongue on her pussy.
Oh God.
She needs that tongue on her like she needs air to breathe. As much alcohol as she's had, the only thing fogging her mind is the lust and pleasure coursing through her veins. She's now drunk on something else entirely. And it's on the man who is currently breaking the kiss and leaving her a panting, breathless mess as he slides his lips over her jawline and down her neck, the scruff on his chin scratching her so deliciously.
As she's still trying to recover from that kiss—as if she could—she's so glad she wore a dress tonight. As he leaves a trail of kisses along her collarbone, he pulls the straps down her arms, yanks down the top of her dress and pushes her black, lacy bra cups out of the way, exposing her breasts. As he's admiring her naked breasts in wonderment, as he's squeezing them in his firm hands, making her nipples harden, she's admiring him and blushing profusely.
Fuck.
When he caresses a hard bud with his lips, Emma moans, and when he draws the same nipple into his mouth, she runs her hands through his hair, enjoying how soft and warm his mouth is against her sensitive skin, a breath exploding between her lips. He kisses his way to her other breast, giving the same treatment. She can feel how hard he is through his jeans, and it's making her so much wetter than she already was. To her relief, he's grabbing her dress and hauling it up her legs, seeking access she's definitely willing to grant him. She helps him move the hem of her dress to her stomach, exposing her black, lacy thong. He leaves bruising kisses on her lower belly and inner thighs as he slides her panties off.
When he's on his knees and his gorgeous face is between her thighs, he looks up at her, those intense blue eyes stealing her breath as he gently slides his lips up her leg, giving her time to push him away if she desired. A completely unnecessary precaution.
She leans back, gripping the edge of the sink as she drapes one leg over his shoulder and pushes him to her.
The soft, warm air of his chuckles hits her glistening folds and sends a shiver up her spine. "Patience, love." He presses gentle kisses to her nub, her folds, and noses her slit, breathing in slowly, taking in her unique scent. Emma's incapable of being patient, though; she can almost feel his tongue on her as he wraps his arms around her, urging her to lean back a little more so he has full access to her.
Finally, his tongue hits her flesh, taking a thorough exploration between her folds until he finds exactly what he's searching for. She dips her head back, hitting the back of it against the mirror, her hands clutching at the top of his head for purchase. Her eyelids fall shut, soft moans pouring from her mouth as his tongue works so skillfully on her bundle of nerves. She opens her eyes so she can watch him as he licks her good and hard, and she lifts one of her legs to the edge of the counter so she's spread out like a feast before him. She tugs gently on his hair, urging him closer and she can tell he doesn't mind, because he's growling and puckering his lips, drawing her clit into his soft, warm mouth, making her tremble. It's the most erotic thing she's ever witnessed, and she's wondering who's enjoying this more, him or her.
When he glances up, his eyes are boring into hers, and she can feel him smiling against her folds when he sees how wrecked she is with her best friend's tongue between her legs. Those sparkling blue eyes are piercing through her soul and she can't find the strength to tear her gaze from his. It's so fucking hot watching him eating her out. Watching him take his sweet time bringing her close to the very edge before pulling away and then bringing her back. It's like watching the waves of the ocean moving in and lapping the shoreline before ebbing away. His tongue lapping her up and then withdrawing. In and out, in and out, over and over, increasing in intensity and speed each time, until she's a complete mess, until she's arching her back and fisting tufts of his hair and tugging him closer, begging for him to finish her off.
"Killian… please…" she moans breathlessly, helpless against the mirror and completely at his mercy.
The alcohol certainly doesn't help; it had made her incredibly more horny. Meaning every inch of her is more sensitive. So, Killian suckling on her clit and lapping her up as if his life depends on it is bound to push her over the edge and make her crumble into a million pieces very soon.
And he does so effortlessly.
God, he does.
"Killian!" Emma screams, hoping the loud music and chatter of the bar are drowning out her sounds of ecstasy as she falls apart. She falls so hard, she's thankful Killian's hands are gripping her thighs, holding her in place, because otherwise she'd be on the floor right now. Literally.
When she comes back to reality, her body is still twitching. Killian is pressing soft, wet kisses to her nub and each of her thighs, and there's fire in his eyes as he rises and sucks her essence off his fingers.
She can taste herself on his lips when he kisses her. And she melts again, arousal shooting through her once more. But as airy as she feels, she somehow musters the strength to push him back, fumble for his belt, tug down his pants and sink to her knees.
Holy hell.
His cock is glorious.
Thick and throbbing, pointing at her, almost beckoning her forward.
"Snap your fingers," she says, smirking up at him.
He manages a grin and doesn't argue.
When he snaps his fingers, she wraps her hand around his stiff length and strokes him slowly, a deep, soft moan escaping her lips. He feels fucking amazing in her hand.
He draws in a sharp breath when she kisses his velvety tip. Then she leans in and licks up his entire length, making him gasp.
"Good… Gods… Emma."
His thick shaft is glistening with her saliva, and Killian bites his lower lip as he looks at her, trying to hold back the urge to lose himself too soon. She smiles, encouraged by his palpable excitement, and wraps her wet lips around his cock. The tip of him slides easily into her mouth, and she sucks on him greedily, bobbing her head a few times before removing her hand, grabbing his hips and taking him in deeper. Killian lets out a deep, guttural groan, reaching down to cup her cheeks in his hands. Emma hums gently around him while allowing his cock to slide back and forth past her lips, not enough to escape her mouth, but enough to build up some friction.
"Fu-uck! That feels incredible, love…" he groans, his voice completely wrecked.
The sounds of his breathing grow louder with each passing minute. Her arousal builds inside her again while she takes him deep, letting his belled tip almost slip free from her mouth before taking him in again. She can't refrain from smiling around his cock, knowing she's subjecting him to the same torture he put her through.
Emma massages his balls in her fingers and increases her speed, taking him into her mouth deeper and faster and harder. Killian's hands are threading through her hair and he's groaning loudly, thrusting his hips, seeking release. And she's finally ready to give it to him. She moans around him and takes his perfect buttcheek in her free hand, taking him roughly, letting him fuck her mouth until his hot seed is spurting down her throat and he's gripping her hair tightly and his legs are shaking.
"Gods, Emma… that was…"
The knock on the bathroom door pulls them both back to reality. Emma quickly swallows his cum down her throat and licks her lips as she rises. They reassemble themselves quicker than they would've preferred. They right their clothes, tame their hair and walk out of the restroom like everything's perfectly normal, ignoring the looks they're getting from the female patron who's outside the door waiting to use the restroom.
Killian and Emma are laughing as he pays their tab and they're still giggling as they stumble out of the bar.
They take an uber to Killian's apartment and the keys he drops on the floor is only the beginning of the trail they leave behind as they make their way to his bedroom. A jacket, one shoe, Killian's sweater, another shoe, another jacket, her bra, her dress, her wet panties… they don't even break the kiss to fling their clothes to the floor, and their lips are still connected when they make it to the room and fall into Killian's bed.
Emma can't believe that after five years she's finally making love to this man, making love several times in several different positions, and when they're both completely sapped, their heads are falling against the pillows and he's kissing the back of her hand and asking her on a date.
Once they're not both in bed or out on their first official date (they wait until they go back to her place to begin any more enjoyable activities this time), Emma finally gets to watch the video of Killian's reaction to the dirty text she'd sent him two days prior.
And what she sees fills her with so much happiness, she can't stop smiling.
And when she uploads the video on Tik Tok, it goes viral.
Killian sighs heavily into his hands. He's such an idiot. He needs to just man up and tell Emma how he feels. But if it were really that easy, then he would've done it five years ago, right?
The sound of his phone vibrating against the table drags him from his reverie and he lifts his face from his hands and picks up his phone.
It's a text message from Emma.
Emma: I have a confession. I didn't actually have to pee. All that talk of licking your cock made me so wet. Made it difficult to sit across from you instead of crawling underneath the table and licking your cock.
Killian groans, his cock actually twitching when he reads her text.
Fuck.
He's completely stunned. He doesn't even know how to react or feel about her text. Is she serious? Is she joking? Is it the alcohol?
A million questions race through his mind and when he's finally able to peel his eyes from his phone screen, he looks across the bar toward the restrooms. He's half expecting to find her watching him from a distance to catch his reaction but she's nowhere in sight. He looks at his phone again and reads her text again. A slow smile creeps across his lips at the thought of Emma crawling underneath the table to suck him off.
Bloody hell.
Suddenly he feels very warm and grabs the drink menu to fan himself. Did they turn on the heat in here?
He blows out a laden breath and slips the phone into his pocket, trying to recover from how turned on he is. The thought of Emma's sweet, pink lips wrapped around his hard, aching cock makes him painfully hard. And he's pretty sure his arousal is written all over his face. But he also wonders what this means.
Was she sending him an invitation?
Does she want him to take action? Is she wanting him to meet her in the restroom?
He's not sure, but he's not about to let this opportunity slip from his fingers. Killian sets down the menu, drags a hand through his hair and gets up before he can talk himself out of it.
Fuck.
Is he actually going to the ladies' room to get his dick sucked?
Nah, while the thought of having Emma's mouth on his cock is awfully enticing, he has other ideas in mind.
As he approaches the hallway, he can see Emma on her phone. He suddenly becomes nervous and completely terrified.
Holy hell.
Is he actually doing this?
He keeps moving his feet, breaking through his stubborn wall of fear that's held him back all this time. He breaks through the wall of anxiety and nerves that have weighed him down.
He takes another deep breath, steps into her space and snatches the phone from her hand, hoping and praying this isn't a huge mistake.
If it was a mistake, then it was the best mistake he's ever made. Because not only does he get to be with his best friend—the woman of his dreams—but her brother doesn't completely hate him. David wasn't happy at first, but he's slowly getting used to the idea of his best buddy dating his sister.
And Mary Margaret is overjoyed. But she's been acting very peculiar ever since he began dating Emma. Every time they meet Mary Margaret and David for lunch, the petite brunette always says without fail, "Guess what time it is?" After Emma shakes her head and rolls her eyes, Mary Margaret always has the same answer to her own question: "It's time for you to buy your own grilled cheese sandwich and onion rings."
Which is strange because, being the gentleman his mum raised him to be, he always foots the bill whenever he takes Emma out to eat.
What's even more puzzling is that Mary Margaret suddenly stops saying it after a year.
David's wife sure is an odd one.