A/N: I needed a little bit of happy in all of this chaos going on this week, so I banged this out while watching the endless news cycle. Please forgive any errors and the need for a polish. Most likely a one-shot. Enjoy!
Emma's heart was in her throat.
He knew.
He knew, and she hadn't even been the one to tell him.
"Don't!" she pleaded, catching up to him and snatching at his sleeve, her fingers seizing the thin, black fabric and wrapping around his forearm. "Killian, please…"
The warmth of her hand, the chill of her fingertips—they were always so cold, despite his many attempts to warm them—stopped him in his tracks, the tension between them slackening as he allowed himself to be swayed back toward her, but she held on tightly, too afraid to let him go.
Afraid of what he would do.
"Am I supposed to simply let it go, Emma?"
She could hear the outrage, low and dangerous, in his voice—and it hurt, because she knew it was her fault.
"Belle shouldn't have said anything—I told her not to, that I would handle it. I just wanted to wait until after tonight. I was afraid if you knew he'd kissed—"
"He kissed you?" Killian growled, his features darkening as he yanked his arm from her grasp, the prop hook clattering to the floor between them as he stormed toward center stage where Neal was mid-scene with Tinkerbell.
"Shit," Emma groaned.
Belle probably hadn't mentioned that, had probably only implied she'd seen Neal hitting on her and refusing to take no for an answer, but had left out the part where he'd tried to steal a kiss.
Emma didn't know why she had so much trouble with words—why the things in her head couldn't just exit her mouth in the right way, or at least in a way that didn't always make things worse. It should have been so easy to explain—that the minute Neal leaned in, she'd shoved him halfway across the library, and if that hadn't left an impression, she had a right hook ready. That in that moment, she'd been so sorry that she'd insisted on keeping her relationship with Killian a secret. That she wanted nothing more than to have been sitting there with his hand wrapped in hers, for everyone to see—no one else trying to take what wasn't theirs.
Emma wavered where she stood, not sure how to process the shit show everything had become in such a small space of time. Killian was seething, his black leather coat flaring behind him as he stalked across the stage—much to the surprise of the cast performing. Ashley stumbled over her line and twisted her hands in the lime green tutu she wore as Killian reached them, his long fingers wrapping around Neal's shoulder and jerking him into an about-face.
The gasps of confusion from the opposite wing were audible as everyone tried to figure out why Killian was on stage when he shouldn't be, and the murmurs from the audience were no better. She was sure they were all wondering why Captain Hook was confronting Peter Pan out of nowhere. Time slowed as she watched Neal's features twist from surprised to nervous, her eyes snapping down to Killian's hand as he clenched it into a tight fist. She couldn't take her eyes off the chunky, heavy jewelry from the prop department adorning his knuckles.
Props that she knew he was about to drive into Neal Cassidy's face.
Principal Gold's son.
The man who always had it out for Killian.
"Shit."
Her boyfriend was about to get expelled, and it was all her fault. She should have told him earlier, but she couldn't fix that now. She had to do something—anything—now.
Trying not to think about how far from normal this opening night was turning out to be, or how Wendy had no place in this scene, she rushed after him, doing the only thing she could think of to keep him from getting thrown out of his senior year.
"Oh, Captain!" she cried, feigning exhaustion and leaning heavily against the backdrop of painted, wooden jungle. She paused for a moment, catching her breath and glancing warily behind her, as if she were afraid at any minute something dangerous was going to pounce from the bushes.
Three sets of eyes from center stage turned to her, along with every head in the packed auditorium.
She caught her breath and tidied the blue bow perched on top of her perfect curls. "You found me! I thought I would be trapped here forever—"
Killian's grip was still white-knuckled on Neal, who was starting to squirm uncomfortably, and Ashley looked like she wished she could actually turn into a ball of light and fly away, but she could see the curious sparkle in Killian's eye beneath a cheekily arched brow, and it gave her the bravado she needed to keep going. She had no idea where this scene was headed with her at the helm, but it didn't really matter.
Saving the play wasn't the point.
Saving Killian was—the rest would just be a bonus if she could pull it off, so she continued.
"—stuck caring for Pan's lost boys, washing their socks, cooking their meals, and do I ever get a thank you, Wendy—what delicious coconut salad, Wendy? No, never!" Righteous indignation flooded her face and she straightened her dress brusquely, angling toward the audience as she arched an eyebrow and rested her hands on her hips. "And let me tell you, not a single washing machine or microwave on the whole island."
Not waiting for the reaction, but smiling inwardly as the wave of laughter rippled through the crowd, she turned her attention back to the strange trio that was a squeamish looking Peter Pan, a very nervous fairy, and an inscrutable Captain Hook. Relief washed over her as she saw Killian's face losing that dark edge as she approached, her breath catching in her throat as they locked eyes. It may have been a cliché, but he'd always been able to do that to her, to just steal her breath away. It didn't help that he looked sinful as anything in that pirate get-up. She thanked her lucky stars that he'd tossed that ridiculous wig and hat in the trash and decided to give Captain Hook his own spin.
He met her halfway between the wing and centerstage, letting go of Neal's arm without a backward glance. To her surprise, the spotlight followed him, bathing them both in its glare as they came together. Her hand brushed along the rough stubble of his jaw before settling on the back of his neck, his arms circling her, and though he was dressed as a pirate, the possessive squeeze of his hand at her waist was all him.
There was anger and regret simmering, she could see it in the way he held his jaw, but there was also happiness, and laughter, and something more in the warmth of his eyes—something she would catch glimpses of sometimes when he thought she wasn't paying attention, but she knew what it was, and that he held back for her—because she'd been so insistent about keeping everything between them a secret, because for some reason she was terrified if she admitted what she felt, and what she wanted, that she would lose it. It was a silly thing, and now it had hurt them.
"I never thought I'd fall in love with a pirate—" and it was not how she thought she'd tell him she loved him, so it was probably good that technically it was Wendy telling Captain Hook—"but you see me when no one else really does—made me realize that I have dreams, Captain. I can do anything I set my mind to. I can be anything—a lawyer, a sheriff, a high-end fashion designer specializing in faux-crocodile-vegan-leather accessories…"
She had no idea where that came from, but the raucous laughter from the audience made her feel a little better—at least they were having a good night. Then her gaze slipped to the side and she finally saw all of the horrified faces of the cast and crew watching the debacle from backstage. Well, maybe there was no way she was going to save the show, but even if Gold let loose, he couldn't put the blame solely on Killian now. She was in the thick of it too, and she doubted he'd go so far as to expel Sheriff Nolan's daughter.
"I've yet to see you fail, Wendy," Killian asserted, and though the name was wrong and he was projecting enough to reach the back of the auditorium, she knew the words were meant for her, because he'd always believed in her, always believed in them.
She hated that she had been so afraid of what this could be, that she hid it away, worried if she put her heart out there, it would all fall apart.
"While I used to think that catching that crocodile was my happy ending," Killian continued, grinding his jaw at the thought of the sneaky reptile, "I know now that it's you, it's always been you, so tell me, love," and he dipped his lips closer to hers, teasing a kiss before turning his gaze on the audience, a rakish grin spreading across his face as he gestured broadly over the crowd, "will you sail away with me?"
"Always," she breathed, "to the end of the world, and time!"
There was a roar of noise from the audience—laughter, clapping, whooping, whistling—and while she had no idea where the words had come from, what came next, well, that was no mystery. She grabbed her pirate, hands fisted in his jacket as she rocked into him, bodies swaying as their lips clashed. It didn't matter that they were standing in front of the entire school, every detail illuminated by the hot spotlight—in that moment, there was nothing but the two of them.
It wasn't until they broke apart—and if people hadn't known about them before, they sure did now—that Emma heard anything outside their bubble, but then it hit—the crowd was clapping and laughing, perhaps at the insanity of it all, but who cared. Gold's voice was cutting through the chaos backstage, reaching that thin, forced pitch that meant he was furious, and Belle was already picking up the pieces. Neal was grumbling and nursing his arm—maybe the best acting he'd ever done—beating a retreat from the stage, and the rest of the cast and crew couldn't take their eyes off of her and Killian as they scrambled to close the curtains and help Belle figure out what came next.
Emma tugged Killian into the wing and back through the stacks of equipment and props to a quiet corner, wanting to find a place they could speak, but also to remove him from Gold's eyesight as quickly as possible.
"I'm so sorry. I should have—"
"Emma," he murmured, tilting her chin up so she could see the truth in his words. "I'm not upset with you. How could I be?"
"It was my fault. If I hadn't insisted that we keep our relationship a secret, then he…"
"Oh, Swan. It is not your fault that Neal assaulted you."
"Assault is a little…look, if he had known we were together, he wouldn't have tried to kiss me."
"He shouldn't have tried to force a kiss on you, regardless. You've been more than clear, for years, that you have no interest in him. Though, maybe I shouldn't have lost my temper and stormed the stage," Killian admitted, ducking his head and scratching his ear in that way that always made her heart flutter. "Thanks for saving me from myself, lass."
"I meant what I said, Killian," she whispered, her voice dropping as she pushed the words out before they could crawl back in. "I think…I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you."
"Are you sure it's not just the hook, Swan?" he teased, giving her the out, because he just understood her that well, but she could see the hope in his eyes, and suddenly all of that old trepidation was gone.
"You're not even wearing the hook," she pointed out. "I'm sure, Killian Jones. I love you, whether you're a smoldering-eyed pirate, or not."
"You think my eyes smolder?"
"Stop it!" she laughed, shaking his shoulders gently as he waggled his brows at her, the both of them enjoying the smile of the other before he grew serious once more.
"And I love you, Emma—so much."
"Yeah, I know."
Gold's fury had tapered down to mild annoyance by the next morning, no small thanks to Sydney Glass and his cover story on their humble production. He'd praised the comical genius of their work, calling it far from 'just another retelling of the same old story'. He highlighted the unexpected romance and praised the heartfelt acting of the two leads, whose whirlwind chemistry swept the audience away. He even went so far as to paint the play as a tongue-in-cheek examination of eternal youth versus personal growth, and while Emma thought that the whole piece was a little lofty, she was more than happy that there hadn't been any blowback on Killian for his stage-crashing.
Overall, opening night hadn't been a total failure, and Belle had been more than capable of a hasty rewrite for their follow-up performances. While Neal wasn't thrilled with his sudden decrease in lines, Emma was hardly going to complain that she got to kiss her smoldering-eyed Killian Jones on stage each night—and if the hook and pirate costume went missing from the prop department for some reason, she doubted anyone would notice.