The music, honestly, was probably too loud.
Emma wasn't entirely sure what the volume was at, but she was almost certain she could feel the beat under her skin and that probably wasn't good for her eardrums or the actual baby sitting in a carrier on the goddamn floor.
She glanced at Peggy, seemingly oblivious to the volume or the generic tackiness of a Spotify playlist that was actually called totally 80sand Emma nearly tripped over a pile of papers she forgot she'd moved.
On the floor.
There were papers all over her floor.
It was, in theory, easier to organize that way – stacks for ticket sales and food options and non-gluten options because things were absolutely crazy and vaguely insane, but Will Scarlet still had a gluten sensitivity and he'd mentioned it fifty-two times in the last three days.
At least.
And there were piles for merch, some signed and some game used and all of it ready to be displayed and auctioned and they were going to get a video poker machine instead of a new roulette table because it was cheaper and Zelena was, suddenly, worried about budgets.
Emma had sat in four different meetings about the same budget in the last week.
She almost didn't make it to the restaurant the night before, a pen still stuck in her hair when she barreled through the door and Killian's whole face had done something entirely unfair because he kind of looked stunned when he saw her, but that might have been because they hadn't really seen much of each other in the last few days.
He had PT and kept loitering at practice, despite several pointed opinions from both Vankald sisters about that in the group text, and Emma felt like she was constantly half a second away from throwing her phone out the window and screaming at everyone to leave them alone so she could make out with Killian in her office again.
They were really good at making out in her office.
But that would probably be difficult if there were still piles of papers on every flat surface and there were not enough hours in the day for everything Emma had to do.
So, really, the music might have been at an entirely appropriate volume.
Or, at least, an understandable one.
"We're good, right?" Emma asked, glancing back at Peggy like a thirteen-month-old baby was about to respond to her. "Totally not going crazy."
Peggy did, in fact, make a noise, some kind of gurgle and a mumble of ma, ma, ma, ma, tiny fists held up like she was challenging the air to drop gloves.
Emma sighed, closing her eyes lightly and her legs didn't entirely appreciate when she crouched down, but she'd actually put her kid on the ground, so her legs could cope and her mind could cope and Killian kept sitting on the bench while the Rangers were practicing.
That new guy was good.
Not Killian good or Killian fast, but he was good and not on the IR indefinitely or worried about headaches or a Tylenol schedule that Emma actually had memorized at this point.
Nicklas Husinger did not have to walk as slowly as humanly possible on a treadmill while Ariel glared at him for forty-five minutes every day.
Emma needed to do something besides sigh.
Peggy tried to wave, but they hadn't quite got the hang of it yet, a backwards move that made Emma's heart grow. "You trying to tell me the music is too loud, babe?" she asked, more questions she knew she wasn't going to get an answer to, but the song changed and Emma had always had a sort of soft spot for George Harrison and she'd picked Peggy up before she realized her fingers were moving.
"I know, I know," Emma murmured, bobbing on her feet and trying to avoid a stack of papers that Merida had put in alphabetical order the day before. She had no idea where Merida was. Probably avoiding the music. "It's not too loud, right? You'd definitely shout if it was too loud and we're happy and kind of dancing. That's a good sign, isn't it?"
No answer.
A hair tug, and a slight gurgle, but no answer.
"This is a good song too," Emma continued, weaving across her office and it looked like it was snowing out. She hoped it didn't snow on Casino Night. They didn't have a snow contingency plan. Shit they should probably have a snow contingency plan.
She'd make the entire goddamn roster walk to Gotham Hall if the cars couldn't get there.
And Killian needed to get a tux.
"Oh damn," Emma muttered, remembering that and wondering if there was a notebook somewhere that wasn't already filled with half-finished thoughts and schedules. She made a face when Peggy did, eyes flashing down with an expression she hoped was repentant because Killian had read one time about talking to babies before they were born and how that affected their cognizant reasoning once they were born and Emma could only imagine the kind of impact she was leaving on her kids by swearing in their faces.
"Listen, when you know how to actually say words and not just yank on my hair to get my attention, I need you not to mention this entire afternoon to your dad, ok?" Emma asked, and she'd clearly lost her mind. "I'm serious, babe. Not a word. He should have reminded me about his tux."
Peggy squirmed, which Emma assumed was some kind of sign and she knew Killian didn't forget about his tux and just didn't want to go to Casino Night and the whole thing was a disaster.
The new guy was really good. He'd scored in the second game of the back to back. They were on a win streak.
Killian was probably watching film while walking as slowly as humanly possible on the treadmill.
"He's really freaking out, you know," Emma muttered, ducking her head to kiss Peggy's forehead and the words weren't supposed to shake their way out of her, but nothing had really gone according to schedule in the last week and a half and she was so ridiculously tired she was positive she was walking through some kind of constant fog.
"And he's not really talking about it," she added. "Which is kind of making me freak out. Are you a little freaked out too, Pegs? Because that'd almost be understandable."
Emma leaned back, not sure what she was waiting for, but the almost-raspberries Peggy blew into the air were pretty far down the list and her laugh sounded as genuine as it had since the almost date.
"That was about as eloquent as me," Emma grinned. She was still almost dancing, shifting and rocking and twisting her hips and George Harrison had turned into the B52s and this playlist was going to single-handedly fix all of Casino Night, she was positive.
It was, at the very least, doing a pretty great job of calming her nerves.
She kept reading about post-concussion symptoms. In between meetings and budgets and numbers that Merida promised ten different times they'd reach because they didn't have another choice, and Aurora had called twenty-two times in the last day to double check on the Garden of Dreams banner.
A goddamn banner.
That had gotten water damaged in New Jersey too.
Emma needed to stop reading about concussion symptoms. It was terrifying.
"It's not that," she whispered, half to herself and half to Peggy and, maybe wholly to the world, challenging everything and everyone because it was just a misdiagnosis and not CTE and it absolutely, positively was not going to be CTE, and indefinite didn't mean forever.
At least not in this instance.
Peggy yanked on Emma's laces.
"Hey," Emma chastised softly, pulling away fingers and brushing kisses over the back of her daughter's palm. Her phone was ringing again. It was probably Aurora again. It was definitely Aurora again.
She'd been avoiding Aurora like several different plagues.
Maybe she should have talked to Phillip about Aurora.
That felt like cheating.
"Hey, hey, hey, Pegs, what if we go on another field trip, huh?" Emma asked. She knew Peggy's eyes didn't actually get brighter, but it was comforting to think that this conversation wasn't quite as one-sided as it definitely was. "We can go see A and maybe get Dad to stop staring at film that's only going to make him mad and then we can totally avoid Aurora again. That seems like a pretty good plan, right? Maybe get some hot chocolate?"
"Are you avoiding Aurora?"
Emma jumped several feet in the air, clinging to Peggy and Ruby grinned from the doorway, arms cross and feet crossed and a smile on her face that felt a little predatory.
Peggy started crying.
"Jesus Christ," Emma hissed, nearly tripping over several stacks of paper and Ruby's smile only got more pronounced. "Where the hell did you come from?"
"Like in general or just now?"
"Ruby."
She moved her eyebrows quickly, uncrossing her limbs and crossing the threshold before taking Peggy out of Emma's arms without asking. "Hey, Pegs," she cooed, rocking her weight between her feet and it took, exactly, three seconds for the crying to stop completely. "Is your mom interrogating you? She realizes you can't answer, right? And it's only a little weird that she's conversing with you? An actual, human baby?"
"It's good for them to hear voices and be acknowledged," Emma pointed out. She sank onto the edge of her desk, one of the few places she could do that and Ruby hummed.
It was decidedly placating.
And the phone was ringing again.
"Oh I've got no doubt you absolutely believe that," Ruby said. "Or that it's actually true."
"Where are you going with this?"
"That you are wandering around your office, which incidentally looks like several different disasters, talking to a baby who can't respond to you because you don't want to voice your concerns to someone who can actually respond to you."
Emma blinked. And pressed her lips together – tightly. She was, like, seventy-two percent positive the music got louder. But that might have just been the rushing in her ears and the pounding of her heart and she was not at all emotionally prepared for Ruby to get to the heart of the matter that quickly.
She was really pissed off at the Rangers for still winning.
And at Aurora for being worried about a goddamn, fucking banner. It was Gotham Hall. That banner was going to look ridiculous.
"How was that?" Ruby asked when Emma didn't respond immediately.
"Absolutely terrible and totally wide of the net."
"Ah, that was actually funny, Em."
"I am occasionally funny," she muttered, but she couldn't quite get enough acid in her voice for it to sound like a convincing insult and she was way too tired to try again. Ruby probably knew that too.
"I'm still not disagreeing with you. But this joke felt a bit more like an attempt to prove how fine you are instead of how good your sense of humor is."
"Did you just come in here to lecture me?"
"I mean, kind of," Ruby shrugged, and there was something to be said for honesty. "I wasn't expecting to find you soliloquy'ing your kid though. Isn't she supposed to be at daycare? Or anywhere that is not suffering permanent hearing damage?"
"You think the music's too loud?"
"I could hear it when I got off the elevator."
"You work two floors above me."
Ruby shrugged again, waving a hand through the air. "And I wasn't in my office. I was talking to Zelena because…"
She trailed off, glancing around the office for something Emma hoped she didn't find and she didn't entirely expect the weight of absolute and total dread to land in her stomach quite that suddenly or quite that painfully.
"If this is about Casino Night budgets again I'm going to curse Zelena to several other realms," Emma warned, drawing a quiet scoff out of Ruby and Peggy fussed in her arms again. "But I've got a sneaky suspicion it doesn't actually have anything to do with Casino Night."
Ruby shook her head.
"Is that why you didn't go on the road swing?"
"That was mostly because I didn't feel like being in Arizona or Nevada right now."
"Because you're trying to make sure I'm not staging several different mental breakdowns in my office?"
"You words, not mine," Ruby pointed out. She took a step forward, pressing the toe of her shoe on Emma's outstretched foot and her smile had a hint of something that felt a hell of a lot like disappointment to it. The dread in Emma's stomach moved to her heart. "And you're pulling Pegs out of daycare so you can have one-sided conversations with her."
"It was just one day," Emma reasoned, but the argument fell flat and it wasn't much of an argument and she probably would have taken Matt out of school too if she knew he wouldn't, somehow, find his way onto the ice. "She's a good...distraction. Ah, shit that's a terrible description. Don't tell Killian I called her that, that's not what I meant at all."
"I realize that. Although your inability to choose the right words is, like, at least five eighths of the reason I didn't go on the swing. Plus, they're going to roll, nothing's going to happen in two games that the rest of my team couldn't deal with on their own."
"It sounds very impressive when you call your two assistants your team."
Ruby flashed her a smile – less emotional and just a little happier and Emma's entire soul appreciated that, the air around her not feeling nearly as heavy as it had before. "I am incredibly impressive at all times," Ruby muttered. "And some kind of baby whisperer. Which I think you should remember the next time you let Scarlet and Belle watch your kids before you ask me."
"That was kind of a spur of the moment thing."
"I do not care at all. He's been bragging about how great they were at it. You know I got pictures of them designing defensive schemes on the PK?"
"Matt is four," Emma argued. "What kind of defensive schemes could he come up with?"
"I'd imagine he got a good amount of direction from Scarlet, but it included a lot of blocking shots and they were a little worried about the chance of sticks breaking which, you know, is horrible on the PK. But then, and this is straight from Belle because Scarlet would never admit it, mini-Jones got bored by defense and announced he was only ever going to be on the power play so he could score."
Emma's heart sputtered.
Or stopped.
It felt like it stopped.
It hurt like it stopped.
She was glad Ruby was holding Peggy.
Emma dug her nails into her desk, a move that wasn't going to do her any favors in the long run, but in the moment at least made sure she felt like she was still tethered to the Earth. She squeezed her eyes closed, willing her lungs to continue functioning and Spotify was playing some kind of 80s rock ballad.
She didn't appreciate that.
Spotify could go fuck itself, honestly.
"Do you know how terrifying CTE stuff is?" Emma asked, wincing when the question came out like a shout and the fear in her voice seemed to reach out and slap her. "And I didn't...I didn't even really think about it until now. I mean even after knowing everything about Liam and what happened then. I just…" She sighed, twisting her ring in between her fingers and her laces fell halfway down her arm. She'd forgotten to eat again. She really needed to remember where Merida was.
"It's really bad," Emma finished lamely. "All the stuff that could happen or go wrong."
"It didn't with Liam," Ruby pointed out.
"It could have."
"Have you been looking up CTE symptoms?"
"If I say no are you going to tell me I'm an enormous liar?"
"No, but only because the question was really more rhetorical than anything else. Your crazy eyes were a pretty good answer. Plus the aforementioned soliloquy."
"It wasn't a soliloquy," Emma grumbled, but that was a lie too and she knew her eyes looked insane. "It was just a vocal listing of plans."
"Does Cap know you're looking up symptoms to a disease he doesn't actually have?"
"If you tell him that I'm looking things up, I will push you in traffic, I swear."
Ruby's eyebrows jumped immediately, lips quirking and Emma wished her face wasn't quite as expressive. It was way too judgmental. She let out a low whistle, tracing her tongue over the front of her teeth and her eyebrows didn't move when she turned towards Peggy.
"I think you're mom's kind of lost her mind," Ruby muttered, gaze flitting back towards Emma when she spoke again. "There's a reason Scarlet didn't mention any of this to Cap. Because his eyes would do the same thing yours are doing, but he'd probably get a stick from somewhere and check several people with it until they yielded."
Emma's laugh was shaky and nervous, but Ruby was right and it wasn't CTE. It would be fine. Ruby also wasn't done.
"Nothing is going to happen to him, you know that right?" she asked. "There was a diagnosis and a name and Ariel said as long as he followed the schedule he'd be able to get back by playoffs."
"That's if we make playoffs."
"You're just looking for excuses now."
Emma didn't argue, couldn't and didn't want to and in the great, big list of everything that could have gone wrong in a life that was otherwise pretty fucking fantastic brain trauma wasn't even close to making the list.
She hadn't even considered it.
She'd thought about broken bones and ACL injuries and trades. She'd considered the possibility of blood clots and getting a skate to the back of the calf before she thought about concussions and the helmets were supposed to be better.
The hits weren't supposed to be that hard.
There were rules.
That kid shouldn't have lowered his shoulder.
"God, Mary Margaret really underestimated just how badly you're dealing with this, huh?" Ruby murmured, and Emma almost didn't realize she was talking to her.
She didn't entirely appreciate it when she did.
"Are you gossiping about this?" Emma hissed, and Ruby actually had the audacity to roll her eyes. "Is that honestly what's happening? Is the whole team doing it?"
"Em, give us a little credit. We are not gossiping. We are worried. Exponentially. And Mary Margaret can't keep a secret to save her life. You know this."
She did.
And she knew it would, probably, be fine as long as they followed the schedule and actually made the playoffs and no one did anything even more stupid, but her mind was running on some kind of previously unknown level, pointing out everything that could go wrong and had already gone wrong and they'd been winning.
And she still couldn't quite figure out why Killian didn't tell her.
Or how she didn't notice.
"Cap wasn't keeping secrets because he's an ass," Ruby continued. She dropped next to Emma, bumping shoulders and they should have changed the playlist if they were going to have this conversation. The whole thing felt a little absurd. "You know that too, right?"
Emma nodded. "In theory."
"And in practice?"
"I keep researching CTE symptoms and signs and what to look for when handling a loved one dealing with multiple concussions."
"That sounded a little clinical."
"It's easier to deal with if I get a little clinical, honestly," Emma mumbled. "Like I'm dealing with it from an outside perspective or observing or something."
"Yeah, how's that working out for you?"
"Like shit."
Ruby scoffed, resting her head on Emma's shoulder and at some point they'd both started holding Peggy at the same time, fingers dancing over Rangers-branded merch and neither one of the Jones kids ever wore anything except blue.
"That endorsement deal fell through," Emma whispered, not sure if she was supposed to broadcast the news, but Regina had told Killian before the team left the night before and maybe half her current research was being solely fueled by the look on his face. Like the entire world was ending.
He'd barely said two words for the rest of the night.
"I figured that would happen," Ruby said. "That doesn't mean Gina won't get something better next season. She'll probably get double the money from like...Nike or whatever on the force of her anger and the power of her glare alone."
"I don't think Nike's affiliated with the NHL. NFL, maybe. NBA definitely. Maybe, like, track and field because they're in Oregon, right?"
"I think that's Under Armour."
"Nah, that's Baltimore."
"Why do you know that?"
Emma shrugged, but she'd researched that too and Killian Jones was already the face of the NHL, but an endorsement deal and an equipment deal would have been big and several adjectives worth several zeroes and it would have been more than hockey.
She almost understood why he didn't tell her about the headaches.
"It's not CTE," Ruby repeated, like that would get Emma's mind to stop thinking or worrying or plotting for the metaphorical end of the world. "And this isn't the NFL, Em. We're usually way better at preventing this kind of stuff."
"I know that."
"Do you? Your music and baby theft suggests otherwise."
"She's my baby," Emma argued, groaning when Ruby laughed under her breath. "God, that sounded more defensive than calling her a distraction. Just...don't tell Killian about any part of this conversation, ok?"
"I've got no plans to do that at all, because I am not Mary Margaret, but I do think you should probably tell Cap about every single part of this conversation yourself. Tonight. You should have already, but you're trying to save the Casino Night budget. And you're you, plus Cap is him and he's lurking on the bench."
"How do you know that?"
Ruby stared at her incredulously, another judgmental look and there was not enough oxygen in any of the known universes for the amount of sighing Emma kept doing. "That's insulting," Ruby said. "And I knew about Locksley and Scarlet's plan to intervention him."
"Can you use that as a verb?"
"I just did, so…"
"So let it be written," Emma intoned, the sarcasm almost audibly dripping off her words. "I don't think he wants to go to Casino Night."
"Do you?"
"Not really. This budget is ridiculous and I'm considering several threats to the entire state of New Jersey at this point."
Ruby chuckled, making a face at Peggy, but her expression turned serious when she looked at Emma. "Zelena wants to do a promo on the new guy," she said bluntly, and Emma had to swallow before she could completely process those words in that order.
"What?"
"That's why I wasn't in my office. She...well, he's been playing well and I guess there's been some interest and one of my assistants saidThe Post wants to do a feature and-"
"-He's an AHL replacement," Emma yelled, a noise Peggy did not appreciate and Ruby gaped at her when her voice cracked. She was standing up. She didn't remember deciding to do that. "He's not going to stick around that long."
"At least until the playoffs, Em," Ruby said.
"He's not going to be on the team that long."
"Emma…"
"No, no, c'mon," Emma argued, not sure if it was an argument or just her desperation, finally, boiling over, but Ruby looked a little wary of her when she started pacing a small circle on the few inches of open floor. "Who even is this guy? He's not anyone. He's not even that fast."
"I don't think being fast is a prerequisite for being a good NHL player. It's just plus."
"Well, he's got a negative, then!"
"I know you're pissed, so I'm going to overlook that sentence."
Emma cursed under her breath, tugging her hair over her shoulder and huffing out air she probably could have used to maintain her higher brain functions. "Does Killian know about any of this?"
Ruby shook her head. "No, I came here first, because uh…"
She wished she hadn't stood up.
She wished the Earth would stop throwing metaphorical curveballs directly at her face.
She wished she could stop coming up with sports-based clichés.
"I'm not doing that," Emma whispered, and she knew Ruby heard every word perfectly. "I'm not. Zelena can come down here and tell me if she wants to and I'll tell her the same exact thing. I'm not hyping up some guy who shouldn't even be on the team."
"He should be on the team, Em."
"No, he shouldn't!"
The words sounded insane. She sounded insane. And her breathing was ragged, shoulders heaving and tears pricking the corners of her eyes and she was going to rip her laces in half if she didn't stop yanking on them.
"He shouldn't," Emma repeated softly. Ruby moved a pile of papers before she walked towards her, resting a hand on her shoulder and trying to brush away tears and the team kept winning. She hoped that wasn't a sign.
That was a shit sign.
"It's not going to stay that way," Ruby said, a promise she absolutely could not keep because the internet kept saying these things weretemperamental and it was a waiting game and there wasn't much to do except hope it got better.
"Right," Emma mumbled. "Right, right. It's...going to be fine. It is fine. Currently."
"Man, that was really bad."
She let out a watery laugh, squeezing her eyes closed when her hair found its way back into the grip of a questionably strong thirteen-month-old. "Super bad," Emma agreed. "So, uh...if Mary Margaret told you about everything, I'm guessing she told you about…"
"Tink offering you a job? Emma nodded. "Oh, yeah, she opened with that because she knows not to bury her lede. I also heard from Tink, but that's a whole other story."
"How do you know her?"
"Well, first of all, I know everyone, so jot that down. And secondly, Regina knew her from the get. They went to college together or something. She tried to set her up with Cap once."
Emma's mouth dropped, something that almost felt like wholly irrational jealous flashing through every inch of her, and she really needed Ruby to consider her conversational reactions before she did them. Laughing was not helping her state of mind.
"Relax, green-eyed monster," Ruby muttered. "You're the only one the set-up ever worked for. So retract those incredibly possessive claws."
"I don't have claws."
"You had, like, slightly pointed nails. What did you say to Tink? And what did she say to you?
"Not much, really," Emma said. "She told me she knew who I was and what a good job I'd been doing in New York and that she was offering me a job."
"And?"
"And what?"
"What did you tell her? That was almost a week ago."
Emma shrugged. "I told her I'd think about it."
"Have you?"
"Absolutely not."
Ruby's laugh wasn't unexpected, but it was still a little jarring and almost as loud as the 80s music that was still, inexplicably, playing. "Of course not," Ruby mumbled, a note of familiarity in her voice that was, almost, endearing. Her eyes darted to Emma's desk when her phone made another noise, and neither of them were psychic, but they were both pretty good at making educated guess and it was only a matter of time.
And the world appeared to have a very twisted sense of humor.
"Stop reading the internet," Ruby commanded. "And answer your phone."
Emma took a deep breath, and she'd run out of places to run – metaphorical or otherwise – because there was stuff all over the floor and Ruby wouldn't let go of Peggy and she knew all the words to the song playing from her computer speakers.
That felt like a sign too.
"Hello?"
"Emma," Tink said brightly "I feel like we're playing phone tag."
"Yeah, yeah, it's uh...it's been a bit of a crazy week since the break and we're getting ready for our Casino Night and-"
"-Oh, no I understand completely. I'm just happy I was able to catch you when you weren't busy. I've spoken to your assistant several times."
"What?"
Tink made a noise from wherever the hell she was, a hum and audible confusion, and Emma's head snapped to Ruby, met with a shrug because she wasn't Elsa Vankald-Jones and didn't have supersonic hearing.
"I've spoken to your assistant several times," Tink said slowly. "She said you were in meetings for most of the week or out of the office."
Emma was going to have to buy Merida a new apartment. Or something. A car. A car was impractical in Manhattan. Maybe she'd just give her her job.
She was better at it anyway.
"Right," Emma said, the word sounding strained and force and Ruby shook her head like there'd been a question at all. "Well, I've got a few minutes if you're good."
"Emma, I called you."
"Right."
"I wanted to give you a bit more information on what exactly it is I'm offering you," Tink started. "It is, frankly, an incredible opportunity."
"I'm all ears," Emma mumbled, dropping back onto her desk. Ruby snickered.
It sounded like Tink smiled. "Perfect. Well, as I said, the league has taken notice of the work you've done in New York and, particularly, the work you've done with children and the Rangers. I think you've single-handedly sparked an entire new generation of Blueshirts fans."
She paused, like she was expecting Emma to laugh or agree and Ruby scowled when Emma didn't do either.
"Anyway," Tink continued. "The board of governors wants to continue to do just that. We want to expand the game to the youth and help grow interest across the country, maybe even the world. There's been some talk of playing a few games in Europe and possibly a Winter Classic in Finland in 2030 and-"
"-And what does that have to do with me?" Emma interrupted. Ruby's face was going to get stuck like that.
"Everything, in fact."
"These conversations always seem to end with me telling you I don't understand what you're talking about. I can't imagine that's a good first impression."
"Oh, we're on a much later impression than that," Tink promised. "Double digits, at least. That's why I've been so understanding about your schedule, particularly with your husband's injury. That kid they brought up from the 'Pack scored a nice goal a few days ago, though."
Emma grit her teeth. "Yes, he did. What exactly does this job mean, Tink?"
"You'd still be based in New York, I can guarantee that upfront. I know you've got young children to consider and I noticed your son was on the ice during the Skills competition."
Emma took another deep breath, large enough that she was sure her lungs were going to jump out of her body and object loudly to the move. Ruby didn't appear to be breathing. The computer was playing We Built This City. They'd never turned the volume down.
"Although there would be a considerable amount of travel involved," Tink continued, and maybe they should get Elsa to schedule everyone's conversations because she appeared to be the only person who could go from one point to the other coherently.
"Travel," Emma echoed. Tink hummed from, maybe, Toronto.
"Oh yeah, of course. How else do you think you're going to help run the events?"
"You haven't been exactly forthcoming with that part."
Tink laughed lightly, a chair squeaking in the background and Emma made a mental note to ask Regina this woman's entire life history. She'd make Roland stand next to her when she did. Then Regina wouldn't be able to argue.
"The idea is to get kids on the ice," Tink explained. "To increase youth participation in places where it hasn't been all that impressive in the last few years. That means skating clinics, meet and greets with players and coaches and alums, instructional events and, I'm afraid, anti-concussion measures."
"I'm not pro concussion," Emma muttered, the words finding their way out of her without any sort of filter. Ruby had to press her face into Peggy's stomach to muffle her laugh.
Tink clicked her tongue. "I'm not suggesting you are, just that it might be a touchy subject currently. But, as I've said, league-wide community relations has been a growing part of the brand over the last two decades. We've helped renovate arenas and get facilities into towns, now we want to make sure kids are interested and taught well from the moment they lace up."
"And you think I'm the best person for that job?" Emma asked skeptically.
"I wouldn't be stalking you via phone if I didn't."
"That's fair."
"You'd get your own office, a team of professionals who'd be more than willing to do your bidding. I'm sure you can even take that assistant who's very good at lying with you, if you wanted to. The pay would be...competitive, let's say. And it'd be secure. This the direction the NHL wants to take with its fanbase. That's not going to change any time soon.
I realize you're busy, Emma," Tink continued, a sudden business-like approach that didn't quite match up with her voice. Emma sat up straighter. "But I think you're the perfect fit for this. I think you can affect the game. I think you can do something incredibly positive with this opportunity and I'm going to need an answer by the end of the month."
The phone went dead before Emma could even open her mouth, let alone with respond, and she exhaled so loudly her whole body heaved forward.
"So, uh, we going to dance party some more or, like, what's the plan here?" Ruby asked, Emma's laugh loud and slightly unstable.
She nodded. "Yeah, that's totally the plan here."
Emma managed to successfully avoid both Aurora and Zelena for the rest of the day, tugging Merida into her office when Ruby announced they had to switch to 70s music before I go insane and there was more dancing and a distinct lack of professionalism, but she did at least eat lunch, so she figured it all balanced out in the end.
And there was a game that night.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, twisting awkwardly in the back of the car to try and grab it and Killian had picked Matt up again. Emma had to change into merch in her office.
Did you know that Arizona is the country's leading copper producer and that the Arizona capital is covered in the equivalent to 4,800,000 pennies?
Emma laughed out of instinct and years of doing just that and feeling even more and those were decidedly sentimental thoughts, but her shirt was almost identical to Peggy's so comparatively it really felt normal.
I did not know that. Why did you know that?
If I tell you that I had to look it up is that cheating?
Nah.
Then I totally knew it off the top of my head.
She was only a little worried her smile was going to get stuck on her face, but there wasn't as much traffic and a pair of Jones jerseys waiting for them outside the restaurant.
"Mom," Matt cried as soon as Emma opened the door, dodging Killian's arms and nearly taking her out at the knees. "Mom! Mom! Did you know that ice cream was invented in St. Louis?"
"What?"
Killian groaned, hands stuffed in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels and Emma furrowed her brows in confusion. "That's not what the fact was," he mumbled. "The ice cream cone was invented in New York, the guy got a patent and everything, but it was popularized at the St. Louis World's Fair where the guy twisted a waffle into a cone-type shape."
"Naturally."
"There was an educational part to the whole thing."
"Yuh huh," Emma muttered, but her smile still felt stuck on her face and Matt was wearing his All-Star jersey. Killian shrugged when she looked at him. "What kind of ice cream did you get, Mattie? Were there sprinkles involved?"
"Chocolate and chocolate," Matt yelled, and Killian shook his head.
"Yeah, I can see that," Emma grinned, swiping her thumb over a missed spot of evidence at the corner of his mouth. "You still want dinner though? Because A and Eric may be upset if you don't eat their food."
"Onion rings?"
"It's an away game, kid. There's always onion rings."
He nodded enthusiastically, turning on his heels and running into the restaurant with their usual order on his tongue and Emma was fairly certain that was unnecessary. She also wasn't sure if Killian could move.
"You ok?" she asked, a loaded question that seemed to be playing on loop out of her for the last week and a half. He nodded, but it looked stiff and unnatural and he had to twist his arms when Peggy reached for him. "We didn't have to come, you know."
"Red would have killed me."
"You show for PT or just play hookie with ice cream?"
"The ice cream happened after I walked the world's slowest recorded mile."
"Somehow I think that's a bit of an exaggeration. And this whole stupid team can do several words I won't say out loud in case they wreck Peggy's mental state. Honestly. This has nothing to do with them. I can yell if you want."
"You don't have to yell, Swan," Killian murmured. "Are you worried about Peggy's mental state?"
"I mean, a little," Emma admitted. "But mostly yours."
"I'm fine."
"So I've heard."
"Still true," he said.
"Did he pick that jersey on his own?"
Killian's lips twitched, tongue darting between them and that was as much an answer as any of the words he could actually say. "Immediately," he said. "I guess it's got to get some use."
"Was the ice cream before or after the costume change?"
"Before," Killian laughed. "We ate the ice cream on the way home from school. I figured there was more time in between that and the onion rings then."
"Super dad."
He shifted Peggy between them, bending to brush his lips over hers and it wasn't enough, but they were on a sidewalk and she could hear Ruby shouting and Mary Margaret trying to quiet her and she kind of wanted onion rings. "C'mon, love," he said. "I'm sure there's protocol I've got to follow for away games."
There was, in fact, protocol, but Emma assumed it helped when you wore a shirt only actual team members got because your sister was also dating the equipment manager and it was all going pretty well.
There hadn't been any fights, no terrifying hits, not even a penalty kill.
Matt kept shouting about offsides, but Emma wasn't entirely convinced he was entirely sure what offsides was, and Killian kept an arm wrapped around his waist when he climbed onto the table that was always theirs.
"You realize you're mumbling instructions under your breath, right?" Emma asked, glancing at Killian out of the corner of her eye. The third period had just started, Arizona winning the faceoff and neither Roland nor Matt were very impressed by that.
"What?" Killian muttered. He didn't take his eyes away from the TV.
"Instructions. Pass right and cross 'em, which I didn't entirely understand, and there was a few times in the second when they were all up against the boards and you just kept chanting ht him over and over again."
Killian laughed, switching grips on Matt so he could lace his hand through Emma's. Her heart fluttered. Or something less ridiculous with two kids and goddamn brain trauma and he smirked when he looked at her.
"He should have hit him that's why," Killian explained. "No one's going to call that. Not in a scrum in in the first week of February. And certainly not in a non-divisional game."
"Seems like a lot of prerequisites."
He shrugged. "I almost know what I'm talking about."
"Almost. Seriously what did cross 'em mean? I can't figure it out."
"You could have asked."
"What do you think I'm doing right now?"
Killian did something wholly unfair with every inch of his face, eyes practically flashing in the dim light of the bar and the hockey game on the TV and Emma wasn't sure who groaned louder Ruby or David or Ariel.
Mary Margaret looked a little teary-eyed.
Leo had fallen asleep before the first period ended.
"If you guys are going to flirt this obviously, I need you to do it, like, twenty feet away from me," David said. "At least."
"Is this flirting, Swan?" Killian asked, and she knew she didn't imagine how he leaned towards her. His arm didn't move away from Matt. Absurd upper body strength.
Emma shrugged. "Kind of feels that way, doesn't it?"
"It could certainly be argued that way."
"I'm going to arrest both of you," David warned.
"I don't think you've got that kind of power, Detective," Emma said. "What exactly is the crime?"
"Grossness."
Ariel snorted into her drink, Ruby nearly choking on a half-cold onion ring, and Emma wished her glares had magical powers like Regina. It'd probably make her more intimidating.
"Shut up, David," Ariel muttered. "This is almost cute. I mean it's super gross because your kid is right there and we're right here, but it's also kind of endearing in a romance type way."
"Stop talking, Red," Killian said. "Swan, you want to keep flirting with me and break all of the rules of this ridiculous tradition?"
"That's the best thing I've heard all day," Emma muttered, and it was a very strange, slightly dangerous balancing act while one of them was trying to keep a four-year-old from falling off the table, but she swore she felt actual electricity when Killian's mouth found hers.
She was probably so sentimental because she hadn't really been sleeping.
Maybe they needed some help.
And someone did, eventually, have to score.
They goal sound went off, ricocheting off the walls of the restaurant and, what felt like, the inside of Emma's head, and she hated the AHL kid.
Her eyes flashed to Killian, jaw set and shoulders straight and she could feel the tension rolling off him as clearly as if it were being broadcast as well, a muscle in his temple jumping as soon as the first line crashed against Husinger in the corner of the ice.
"Em," David mumbled at the same time Ariel whispered "Cap," and she shook her head hard enough it hurt her spine.
Her hand was still wrapped up in Killian's.
"You want to get some air?"
"Yeah," Killian said, standing up and fixing Matt's jersey. "Here, c'mon, get off the table, Mattie. You uh…"
"We've got it, Cap," Ruby promised. "C'mere, mini-Jones. Let's talk strategy."
He didn't let go of her hand when they walked back onto the block, or possibly the other way around, leaning against the side of the restaurant because there was snow on the curb.
"I'm sorry about-"
"-No, no, don't apologize," Emma cut in, and seriously she needed to ask Elsa for conversational tips. Maybe she needed to ask several people for help. Killian blinked in surprise, a fair reaction to the absolute vitriol in her voice and Emma wasn't mad at him.
She was mad at...the world.
That sounded ridiculous. There wasn't really anything to be mad about. Killian was fine and would be fine and this team would probably make the playoffs, but Emma's brain would not shut up and even an absurd dance party in her office wasn't enough to distract her for more than a few hours when that AHL asshole scored another goal.
"Red was upset she didn't get an invite to your club this afternoon," Killian said, mouth tugging up when Emma spun towards him. "Although I was a little confused by the specifics of it."
"It was kind of impromptu. How did she find out?"
"How does anyone find out anything on this team? An absurd string of talking and gossip and interfering in each other's lives."
Emma laughed, humming in the back of her throat and Killian tugged her hand up when she tried to rest them both on his chest, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. "When I was in school, I usually went to Reese's house on breaks," she said, doing her best to keep her voice light. "But one time, Christmas break of senior year, David invited both of us to his mom's house. Ruth had way more rum for pies than Mr. Blanchard did. And she also had a questionably large record collection. Old 45s and singles an almost impressive amount of Beatles albums, like every one and then some collectors editions, and it was just...enormous.
And one day, Ruth went shopping and left us in her house with her alcohol and her music and we got incredibly tipsy on rum and found her collection of 80s hair bands. Ruth loved White Snake, you know."
Killian's laugh was more a guffaw, hot air moving over Emma's skin because he'd never actually pulled his lips away from her wrist. She hoped he couldn't feel how quickly it kept beating.
"I can't quite imagine that," he admitted.
"Swear to God, it's totally true. So we started listening to White Snake and Duran Duran and Reese's put on a pretty fantastic show of singing Living on a Prayer and Ruth totally caught us, but then she started singing too and it might have been the best Christmas I'd ever had until-"
"-Until," Killian interrupted sharply, and Emma knew her cheeks were flushed. She'd blame the cold. It didn't have anything to do with the cold.
"Until we stole a Christmas tree," she said. "And every subsequent iteration after that just keeps getting better, don't you think?" Killian nodded. "But, uh...the 80s thing kind of stuck with me and Reese's and it's a comfort thing or something less lame sounding."
"That doesn't sound lame."
"That's generous of you."
"I promise, Swan," Killian said, and there was no way to doubt it or him or them and she needed to stop looking up CTE symptoms. She wished Husinger hadn't scored. "I didn't know that though."
"I'm full of surprises, I guess."
He hummed, moving to the side of her jaw and the curve of her cheek and Emma bit her lip so David wouldn't actually arrest them for public indecency. "I need to tell you something," she muttered. He didn't stop kissing her. "Killian, I'm serious."
He leaned back, face even and Emma felt like she was standing at center ice in the middle of overtime and there was probably another gold medal on the line.
That was probably easier than this.
"I, um…" Emma started, tilting her head and hitting herself in the face with her hair. "I don't think it's going to actually matter, but you're right about this team and I didn't want you to hear from someone else before me and…"
"What, Swan?"
"The league offered me a job."
Killian blinked, opening his mouth only to close it again and she didn't expect him to kiss her.
His arm wrapped around her waist tightly, pulling her flush against his chest and that tongue thing was ridiculous because she couldn't think when he did that, and Emma was sure he'd planned it that way.
She felt like she was breathing him in, fingers moving on their own and into his hair and she gasped when his hips canted up, rocking against her and the brick wall behind him in equal measure. Emma had to press up on her toes to reach him, a fact Killian didn't seem particularly inclined to complain about any time soon.
"Wait, wait, wait," Emma mumbled, earning a groan for talking that might have been because her left hand had found its way under his shirt. "That's...this was unexpected."
"That's incredible, Swan."
"What?"
"A job with the league?" Killian asked, leaning back again with a disbelieving look on his face. "That's incredible. And exactly what you deserve to be doing, love."
"But I don't…"
"You don't what?"
"I just don't have time to think about that right now."
He blinked again. She didn't want him to do that. She was stupid attracted to the color of his eyes. "What does that mean?"
"I've just got a million other things to do," Emma explained, and she was ready for his eyebrows that time. They twisted and turned and arched and she had to breathe through her nose to stop herself from sighing too loudly. "And I bet they've got plenty of other people who could do it better than I could."
"They asked you though."
"I don't really want to focus on it now. Let me get through Casino Night and that stupid thing we've got to do because Phillip hit some point marker first."
"When is that?"
"Hopefully before Casino Night," Emma quipped, and she felt Killian's laugh before she heard it, lips ghosting over the shell of her ear. "I just didn't want you to hear about it from Rubes or Reese's before I told you."
"Do they know about it?"
Emma nodded. "They were both there when I got the phone calls."
"Plural?" Killian asked, voice catching on the word and eyes widening slightly and that was worse than the blinking.
"Tink was very determined, I guess." It could not have been good for his face to be experiencing so many emotional changes at once. "Yeah, yeah," Emma muttered, tugging on his t-shirt and one of them should have grabbed a coat. "Ruby told me about that. I mean you wanted to have two painfully adorable kids with me, so I'm not really threatened by the league lady with the slightly ridiculous laugh."
"We could keep making out on the sidewalk if that'd help."
"Nah, I bet David would actually arrest us. Hey, you think we can get him to arrest this AHL jerk? I bet I could get him to do it."
"He's doing his job, Swan," Killian said. "He's supposed to score goals, I don't think that makes him a jerk by default."
Emma nodded, lower lip jutted out slightly. There were goosebumps on her arms. "That was good," she mused. "Super convincing, appropriate PR response."
"I've been practicing."
"Yeah, I figured. I was almost totally serious about the arrest."
"I know you were, love, and as much as I appreciate that particular abuse of power, I think we're good. And you should send the season tickets the e-mail thing about him. It's ok."
She almost stumbled over her own feet, jerking back and only staying upright when Killian's hand tightened around the back of her shirt. "How?" Emma demanded.
"Zelena found me. Told me she knew you'd put up a fight and maybe I could help."
"Jeez."
"It's not your fault, Swan," Killian said, and she knew they weren't just talking about Husinger. "None of it. You've got to do your job. And that was a good goal."
"It was a shit goal and he's a shit winger and I hate him."
Killian chuckled, kissing her quick and Emma chased after him, but they needed to get back into the restaurant and she heard the door swing open around the corner. "That's the spirit," Killian mumbled.
"Hey, uh, guys," David called. "There's some kind of argument happening here about proper faceoff technique and I think Matt's going to challenge Rol to drop gloves."
"Yeah, we'll be right there," Killian said. The door sounded very loud when it closed. "It's alright, Swan," he continued. "Admittedly not great, but…"
He shrugged, mouth twisted and Emma's heart lurched, some kind of deep-rooted need to make sure he knew how good he was and better than that and he deserved a better schedule than the one they'd come up with.
"Super dad," she whispered instead, and Killian kissed her before they went back into the restaurant.