Okay, so I'm almost late enough that Valentine's Day is practically over, but I'm posting this anyway, both for some fun holiday fluff, and for my entry in the CS Fic Exchange over on Tumblr for Prompt #4. I haven't used every part, but I have worked in the: candy hearts, rain, high winds, or other weather events, and the dialogue: "On a scale from one to irreconcilable differences on divorce papers, how much do you think (character) will mind if…?"
I don't think there's much else you need to know to enjoy this little one shot. Though I would have loved to see more of our pirate and princess in another season of OuaT, I'm having a good bit of fun imagining their happy beginning in a normal Storybrooke without the constant danger and upset – not to mention reading what everyone else sees for them as well! Imagine this is sometime not so far past the end of season six, but before Henry takes off on his own, since he is clearly still here and happy with Violet.
Of course I don't own them! Enjoy this and the rest of your holiday evening!
"Melted Chocolate"
"No, no, no!" Emma Swan moaned in sheer disgruntled reluctance, already knowing it was as bad as she feared; her forehead coming to rest against the steering wheel of her Bug where her hands were still clenched tightly. "Tell me this isn't happening!"
The sudden rainstorm pelted down on the roof and against the windows; the downpour making her feel all the more hemmed in as the car tilted slightly in the sucking mud where they had swerved blindly off the road just enough to get stuck in the ditch, the left rear wheel sinking slowly in the mire where it was caught. The only thing that kept her from actually crying out in frustration was the feel of her husband's curved appendage coming to rest on her shoulder, the comforting weight rubbing gentle circles into her tensed muscles in a soothing fashion.
"Come now, Love," Killian murmured, bending to peer into her eyes as best he could with the way she had bent over the wheel and was petulantly avoiding his pretty blue eyes. "It can't be all that bad, can it?"
She gave him a narrow-eyed glare as she sat up to face him, but still heaved a dejected sigh. If she looked at that concerned, adoring gaze too long, she wouldn't even have her anger to hold onto. "Well, pardon me," she grumped, only half teasing. "In case you hadn't noticed, the car's stuck, and there's a literal monsoon going on outside, so it's not great, no."
As if in agreement with her words, the VW gave a creaking sort of settling moan, listing even more to the left once again, and Killian offered her a sheepish grin and half-shrug in recognition of her point. "Well," he offered hopefully, holding up the plastic shopping bag from their quick run to the next town over, "at least we won't starve." He paired his words with a playful quirk of his brow, and for a fleeting moment it was all Emma could do not to burst out in a fit of giggles at his antics, the ridiculousness of the whole situation and the sudden storm blown up out of nowhere, despite all her previous frustration.
Shaking her head, she looked over at him in disbelieving amusement before responding sarcastically. "You just had to have those particular candy hearts, didn't you?"
"I did promise them to Henry. After all the effort he went to in writing those verses for the young Lady Violet, it seemed a shame to deny him the finishing touch he requested. They were out of stock at the Dark Star, and so I truly had no other recourse. Though, whilst we are on the subject, why any of us frequent the pharmacy of a dwarf who has had a cold as long as I have known him is beyond me."
"Well, be that as it may," Emma snarked back tartly, "we've got bigger problems now."
"Aye, Darling, I can see that," Killian acceded with a grudging nod, knowing he was the more optimistic member of their duo and clearly therefore hated to acknowledge defeat and the negative until it couldn't be helped. Still, things had clearly reached that point, as a jarring crack of thunder chose that moment to rattle the car's windows in their frames and a jagged streak of lightning blossomed in the sky, highlighting the tension on both their faces.
Licking his lips as if gathering himself for a difficult question before plowing ahead, Killian ventured a still somewhat hopeful glance across the center console to meet hers and asked. "I don't supposed your magic could unstick us from this predicament?" But the words were barely uttered before he trailed off, chagrined at the embarrassed and regretful look on his wife's face.
Emma shook her head mournfully, blaming herself already for whatever the issue might be. "I thought so too," she replied softly, offering up her hands, palms turned up and lying open, "but it isn't working. Whatever command I try to send doesn't seem to be having any effect. My magic is as on the fritz as our phones and the radio seem to be." Letting her hands drop again dejectedly into her lap, Emma sent Killian an apologetic look and huffed out addition of, "I know, right? What good is having magic anyway, if it can't get us out of a jam like this? Some Valentine's date I turn out to be!"
Killian was quick to shake his head in disagreement, reaching over to pick Emma's hands up again and pull them toward where he bent his dark head over them to press chaste, worshipful kisses into the center of both palms, lingering as if merely to inhale her scent and be nearer to her. "Emma, none of that now, my Lass," he finally whispered against her skin, his lips petal-soft and his nose skimming along the life line that curved across her upper palm before the stubble that covered his chin and jawline began to tickle her sensitive skin. Raising his eyes to look at her over their entwined fingers, he barely breathed his next words aloud, and yet Emma felt them reverberating all the way down to her toes. "You are a bloody brilliant woman, amazing in every way, and the best Valentine any man could hope to have. I would want a date with no other, and I am lucky to call you my wife. Don't you ever doubt that," he swore fervently.
Emma's smile was a bit tremulous, even as she tried not to get tearfully emotional on top of everything else. She nodded rapidly at Killian, as he clearly expected her promise not to sell herself short or to beat herself up for things beyond her control. She didn't really trust her voice to be steady, but the warmth he had sent spreading through her insides was a heartening as bright sunshine on a summer's day – the opposite of the wet grey pelting against the glass beside them.
Sniffling only slightly, she leaned over the console inconveniently stuck between them to bury her face in his chest, allowing his arms to wrap around and hold her close. After several calming moments like that, Emma realized that things could honestly be much worse. The rain – torrential flood strength though it might be – was outside, not leaking in anywhere, and they were still warm and dry. It was peaceful here in her little old car, and they were blessedly alone; something that rarely happened, emergency or no. No one was asking for their attention or even about to come looking for them and interrupt their moment together, not in the midst of such a cold, windy mess. The location might not have been the ideal she'd had in mind, but they were together at least, and undisturbed, two things that might not have happened for them otherwise, even on Valentine's Day.
Mumbling against Killian's skin, but unwilling to pull away just then, Emma spoke up with a bit more good humor to ask, "So, on a scale from one to irreconcilable difference on divorce papers, how much do you think Henry would mind if we tore into that bag of candy hearts?" She looked up at her pirate husband with an impish glimmer in her eyes. "If we're going to ride this storm out here instead of making our dinner reservations, I'm going to get hungry, aren't you?"
Killian smirked back at her, pleased with the turn in mood and more than willing to play along. "Oh, I don't know, Swan, he seemed pretty adamant that Violet had to see these. But…I have grown on the lad. I don't believe he would order me cast off at this first minor offense."
She shook her head at his comeback, chortling at the impressive vocabulary he managed to employ even in jest, and began to rummage through the shopping bags for their plunder.
"However," Killian said as he withdrew a small gift bag from somewhere inside his jacket, where Emma could only assume he had managed to hide it without her noticing sometime between the checkout and when they got in the car to head home, his voice temptingly low and eyebrow cocked invitingly. "If we do mean to break out our loot, I might have something for you that is a bit more appealing than those neon-colored, word-bedecked sugar cubes." His tongue swept over his lower lip seductively as he watched her reaction, and Emma found herself reaching out to take the gift almost disjointedly, her movements slowed a bit at the stunned, blind attraction he could kindle in her at a moment's notice.
When she tipped the bag upside down to free a boxed heart-shaped chocolate as large as her fist and wrapped in metallic foil, Killian continued with his honeyed words. "I thought you deserved something solid gold, Love. More reminiscent of your heart. Even if your real present is back at the house," here he paused for dramatic effect, his eyebrows dancing merrily with barely restrained mischief, "I couldn't resist when I saw this."
"Flatterer," Emma admonished, her cheeks warming as she used a nail to begin loosening the thick tape holding the box closed and pry it open. "How much of that poem for Violet did Henry write, and how much of it was your suggestion?"
"A gentleman never tells," Killian replied archly, as though he would never dream of divulging such sacred information, to Emma's snort of disbelief.
She got the packaging open with a bit more finagling, only to find that being pressed against her pirate's always warm body had made one side of the chocolate heart go a bit softly melted. Making no comment, Emma tried to hold back the evil smile she felt creeping across her face. Peeling back the golden wrapper enough to get to the treat, she stuck her fingers in and then pulled back quickly, chocolate all over her fingertips, to smear the gooey delicacy across Killian's chin and down his neck with a devious squeal of triumph.
"Hey now! What - ?" but Killian's squawk of protest is overcome rather rapidly by the desperate growl that echoed through his chest when Emma darted in quickly to suck the chocolate residue from his chin and lick up the remnants marked down his neck.
It didn't take her Captain long to retaliate, and soon they were both sticky, panting, and the treat meant to tide them over until they got out of their fix was mushed into their hair, over their faces and hands, and across much of both their outfits. Still, Emma couldn't find it in herself to mind. They celebrated Valentine's Day together amidst a rainstorm, in kisses, giggles, and melted chocolate. No fancy dinner or dancing marked the occasion, but she did laughingly educate her Old World husband on what else could traditionally be done in a car stopped in the deserted middle of nowhere. As holiday revelry went, neither one of them would have celebrated it any other way.