"He's Full of Surprises"

As she steps into Granny's Diner on the tail end of the dinner rush, Emma Swan can't help shaking her head at the comic lunacy of her life and sharing a sideways glance and smirk with David at her side as Ruby Lucas comes rushing up to them wide-eyed and already apologizing. Emma doesn't get too worked up, even as Ruby's cherry red nails flash while she gestures her hands widely in making her point; they've had nearly three whole weeks of peace now since Rumple's banishment and Ingrid's death, and Emma is concentrating on taking things easier and enjoying the calm.

"Sheesh, Emma, I'm sorry!" Ruby breaks into her thoughts again with her exuberant word flow. "I know you and Hook had some sort of special date planned. He was so happy telling me about it at breakfast this morning! I swear, if I'd known this was going to happen, I wouldn't have let him start…"

Emma tries to simply smile kindly and not bust out laughing at the absurdity of it all: the situation, her boyfriend, and the fact that their big date being put on hold doesn't even upset her that much. She holds up a hand to stem the tide of Ruby's apologies and says evenly, with a touch of humor. "It's alright, Ruby. I promise. Why don't you just take me to my missing pirate?"

The brunette looks immensely grateful, the shoulders that had been held high with tension lowering as she lets out a relieved breath. She nods, turning and beckoning Emma to follow her behind the counter and into the kitchen area of the diner as David moves off to find a table.

When they push through the swinging door leading into the hub of scurrying activity that is Granny's kitchen, Emma simply stops to stare wide-eyed at the flurry of movement and efficiency, her mouth falling open a bit in surprise. Ruby moves to the chair set up in the back where her granny is overseeing everything. Widow Lucas sprained her ankle a few weeks back, and has been ordered to stay off it as much as possible by Dr. Whale – to much displeasure and grumbling from the older woman. Still, she appears to be following orders at present, and Emma can see that her sharp eyes miss little of what happens in her kitchen.

What truly floors Emma, however, is Killian, standing at the massive stovetop, seemingly the center of this hive of production and looking completely in control. While he carefully stirs a simmering pan of some delicious-smelling liquid, he waves his hook arm carefully to one person, then another, indicating what they need to do next, where they ought to be, what one needs to bring him for the recipe, then nodding as new orders are brought to him and questions are asked.

Emma shakes her head in disbelief. It would seem there is no end to the ways in which Killian Jones can surprise her. He had called at noon to say he wouldn't be sharing the lunch Snow had packed with she and her father at the station as he often did. He had further gone on to ask if she would meet him at the diner before their date, only saying that he was "helping Granny and Ruby out a bit".

Clearly, this is more than that. Killian looks like a master chef in his element as he bends to smell whatever heavenly concoction he's creating, then checks on something else within the depths of the oven. His usual grace carries over to his cooking, and everyone around him defers to the captain without a bit of hesitation. Several questions fly to the tip of her tongue: Who taught him to cook? Why hadn't he told her how good his is? How in the world did he end up running Granny's kitchen this evening? Instead, she merely steps into his line of vision and asks teasingly, "Hey sailor, should I get you a tall white hat and start calling you Emeril?"

"Ah! Swan!" he exclaims, glancing up and beaming at her proudly when their eyes meet. "Not that I am not thrilled to see you, Love, but what brings you here? Did someone lodge a complaint?"

She smiles wryly, tilting her head as she studies his obvious joy, "Well, you told me to meet you here," she explains simply.

His blue gaze locks on her in shock, and his expression drops quickly. "Oh, Emma….our date…" his voice is softer now, sounding disappointed in himself, when a moment before it had been so light and playful. "I didn't forget, Lass, truly. I simply had no idea it had grown so late. Their cook took sick mid-morning, whilst I was finishing my breakfast at the counter. I volunteered my services, and here we are."

"Time sure flies when you're having fun?" Emma asks curiously, quirking an eyebrow at him, definitely intrigued, but trying to convey that she isn't upset. It actually warms her heart that he had wanted to help out, responded so enthusiastically to being needed and easily accepted at the post without question. He has given so much to be here with her in this modern age, and she loves seeing him find a place where he fits and excels seamlessly.

"Certainly not as much fun as an evening spent in your lovely company," he says for her ears alone, smiling a bit rakishly when he sees there's no harm done. "I am sorry I've spoiled our plans though, Swan," he adds sincerely, "but I cannot leave at present."

She grins and cannot resist kidding him a bit, "I can see that, Maestro." Stepping right up to his side, she leans forward to kiss him on the cheek affectionately. "It's fine, Killian. We can have that particular date another time. I'm here with you; that's what matters."

His wide open smile warms and reaches all the bare, cracked corners of her once-neglected heart. The love in his eyes, still unspoken but unmistakable, makes her breath catch. "Thank you, Emma," he whispers, genuine gratitude in his tone. "Now, here," he lifts the stirring spoon of what she sees is some sort of special sauce and hold it to her lips, "taste?"

The flavor bursts on her tongue, engaging all her taste buds, and Emma can't help the way her eyes slide closed and the way her "mmm" of approval comes out more a low moan of pleasure.

When her eyes flick back open and catch Killian's again, he looks a bit strained and his voice comes out raspy as he warns, "No more of that, Swan, or I will be leaving this to burn and dragging you to the supply cupboard."

She clutches his forearm at the way his words make her knees wobble, but manages a sultry, "I'll keep that in mind," response.

**********************888888888888888888888888************************

Much later, as they sit eating the last of the night's pasta special he had created in the dim light of a couple candles Ruby had lit for them in the closed diner, Emma reflects that the evening had been perfect just the way it was. She had settled on a tall stool in the kitchen, out of the way of Killian and the other workers, but where she could watch in awe as her pirate – and chef, apparently – boyfriend orchestrated it all. Her vantage point had allowed her to take everything in and accept little kisses, caresses, and tastes of whatever he was making each time Killian passed by. It had been as lovely and relaxing an evening as she could have wanted.

Sitting with him, fingers curled around his hook as he uses his other hand to finish his meal, Emma finds herself so satisfied and at peace that she can't remember when thing had last been so right in her world. When Killian puts down his spoon and turns toward her, brow quirked in consternation and asks, "By the way, Love, earlier when you said it I forgot to ask. Who on Earth is this Emeril bloke you mentioned?" she throws her head back laughing before she explains. It's so easy to enjoy the happiness and freedom Killian brings to her life. She is still Sheriff, Savior, and Lost Girl, but she can also just be Emma, enjoying a night with her boyfriend, regardless of what they do.

No, even if she could have predicted how this date would turn out, she wouldn't have it any other way.