FOOLS RUSH IN:
Summary: Emma Swan has been married since she was five years old. Under the old oak tree, she wed Killian Jones, her neighbor. Then, he moved away, but made one final promise, that one day he would marry her for real. See what happens when he returns to make good on his promise.
Fools Rush in Chapter Nine
A/N: Thanks to CSBB for once again organizing an amazing event. I've been missing Captain Swan for the past year, and having this has helped so much! Thanks to Lana ( high-seas-swan) and Kaitlyn ( Spartanguard) for their beta help. Go check out Lana's story when you get a moment as well – it's amazing! Thanks to Rachel ( Ladyciaramiggles) for the art she has provided! Also, thanks to Kris ( sambethe) for the cover art for the story and for beta help! All of you have made this story what it is! I hope you all enjoy what's happening and what is to come! I really loved this chapter and hope you will too!
Emma walked around her house with determination. She wasn't the messiest person on the planet, but she knew she wasn't the cleanest either. Dishes sat in the sink from two days prior, laundry was folded but left on the couch of the family room. Her entryway looked as if a hurricane blew threw, as that is where she and Henry dumped all their stuff when they got home.
She sighed as she put the dishes in the dishwasher. At least she didn't have to clean up Henry's room.
One of the things she loved best about her cottage was that it had a secret basement. Well, not so much of a secret, but it wasn't listed on the one sheet when she purchased the place, and the small basement was a perfect bedroom for Henry. It gave him his privacy, plus allowed Emma to keep her bathroom for herself, since it was the only one on the main floor. She wouldn't mind sharing a bathroom with her son, but she doesn't say no to him having his own.
The main floor boasted a good sized family room, a small dining area, a lovely kitchen that didn't get used much (Emma liked to cook but wasn't the best at it), and a small little breakfast nook. There were two bedrooms down the hall and a sunroom, which Emma enjoyed most of all. She bought a comfy lounger and spent quite a few afternoons in the summer basking in the sun, enjoying the breeze that came through the large open windows.
It wasn't much, but it was home.
Thinking it over on the drive back to her house, she had decided on what to tell Henry about her new situation in life. Henry knew about Killian already, so she was just going to tell him he needed a place to stay while the Navy found him quarters. It was a simple little white lie that would protect him in case things didn't work out with Killian.
While Emma believed in her heart that things between them would work out, her mind told her otherwise. And she knew it was better to be prepared for the worst and expect the best than nothing at all. She knew she could survive the heartbreak, if it ever came; sure it would be hard, but eventually she would pick the pieces back up. But Henry, he was another story. Henry had spent too long forming attachments that never worked out, yet he was always optimistic, never thinking it would keep happening. So whenever people left, he was always heartbroken. She didn't want that to happen between him and Killian.
Just as she was setting the last pillow in place on her newly made bed, she heard a timid knock at her door.
Her heart started skipping around her chest, and her breathing quickened. She knew exactly who was on the other side of that door and it made her nervous. It was a strange feeling, being nervous at Killian Jones knocking on her door.
He was her best friend. She wanted to marry the guy after all; she couldn't spend her entire life being nervous around him. However, after their kiss earlier in the day, she couldn't help it.
She was pretty sure they were both trying to deny their obvious physical attraction towards each other. At least, on the surface they were trying, but the attraction was too much to overcome.
So when she had first blurted out her proposal—cause she wasn't kidding herself, that is what it was—she almost knew he was going to deny her and she would need to do something drastic to get him to say yes. He was too much in his own head for his own good. His mind would overtake his heart and make him say no, but she wouldn't accept no for an answer.
Yes, there was an additional layer of need on her side, but she also couldn't deny the pull between them.
The kiss, though, sealed her fate. It was like a shock to her system, one that revived her from the dead. She had never felt that way about anyone, ever. No one had ever kissed her the way he did, no one had ever made her weak in the knees, even though she was sitting down and didn't need them. When she had pulled him against her with a force, she wasn't expecting him to take charge the way he did, to kiss her back with such a passion that she was willing to do anything in the world to get him to kiss her had simply been using the kiss to get that surprised look off his face. She had thought he would simply let the kiss happen, she didn't expect his lips to move against hers. She didn't expect him to deepen the kiss.
That was why she said OK to the rules. Plus, he had a point. There had been way too much history in their past, too much to just ignore like it hadn't happened. While Emma had forgiven him for what happened—how could she not, he was just a boy when everything fell apart—it didn't mean she forgot. A part of her, a small little millimeter of brain matter, told her that she should be worried he would do it again.
Plus, there was Henry to think about, and the agency: she was pretty sure that a rushed marriage wouldn't look good to the adoption agent. But a marriage that was quick, but built on years of friendship and a couple of weeks testing the waters, may not be such a red flag.
She shook the thought from her head, starting to hate herself each time she thought about that line of reasoning behind wanting Killian in her life. She didn't want to play him like that.
Her hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob of the front door. She took a deep breath before yanking the door open, allowing the moonlight to filter in.
Killian stood there in all his glory. He had changed since their date earlier, now wearing an outfit similar to what he wore the night before. She had to admit that the image of him in leather did things to her she wasn't quite ready to explore. If their short kiss gave her a shock, she knew taking things further would almost kill her.
"Evening, love; all ready for me?" His eyebrow wiggled a bit, in a suggestive sort of way that made Emma giggle. It was like he was trying to be sexy, but failing at it.
That wiggle broke the tension that hung in the air.
"I hope so, sorry about the mess," she said, looking around at her now immaculate looking foyer.
She waited nervously for Killian to enter through the rather small passageway. Even though it was cleared of their junk, it was still a small entrance. The white door contrasted against the pale blue-grey house was one of the best parts about her house, but she wished, especially now that Killian's larger frame was standing in the doorway, that the entrance was just a bit bigger so that his presence wasn't so intimidating.
"It's no problem, love," he said, moving through the doorway, brushing up against her, sending goosebumps up and down her arms. She was wearing an oversized sweatshirt, one that she wore around the house when she was trying to be lazy or needed to clean, and some yoga pants. Yet it was like she was freezing cold and a big gust of wind came blowing through.
They stood there for a couple of moments, letting the evening wash over them.
"Well, how 'bout a tour?" he offered, raising his eyebrows again.
"Alright," she responded, rather meekly.
She couldn't believe how unsure of herself she was feeling. She was in her own house, with a man she wanted to have a life with; yet she felt completely out of sorts.
"Well, this is the entrance way," she started with not much excitement as she waved around the space.
"I can see," he said jokingly, "shoes on or off?"
"Off please," she quickly responded. It didn't really matter though, there was no real hard or fast rule about shoes in her house; there couldn't be with boys running in and out.
Once his shoes were taken off and placed neatly along with the others found against the wall, she led him through the house.
"So, here is the living room, dining room, and kitchen," she gestured, showing him the large open space.
As if she heard his stomach growing, or maybe it was her own, she added, "Feel free to grab anything from the kitchen. Anything you need, just write down on the list on the fridge; Sundays are shopping days, so you can go with us tomorrow or you can just let me know what you need."
"Thanks. I would love to tag along," he replied with a smile on his face.
"Alright," she turned to walk down the hallway, stopping at the first door she reached, "these are the stairs to the basement, where Henry's room and bathroom are. I would show you down there, but I'm not one hundred percent sure what his room would look like," she confessed.
"Is he normally messy? This place looks so clean for him to be messy," he wondered.
"No, he is actually pretty organized; not very typical of a teenage boy, but it's something he picked up at the home. But since I give him more freedom than he was used to, sometimes the room can get a bit cluttered, with the traditional clothes on the floor and old candy wrappers and soda cans strewn about," she clarified.
"Lead on, Swan," he said, wanting to move onto more interesting subjects.
"This door is the half bath for the floor," she said, pointing to the door next to the basement stairs.
He just nodded his head in acknowledgement.
"The door at the very end of the hall is the sunroom," she pointed towards the darkness that was filling in the windows of the door, "The door on your right is the guest bedroom, and this, is my room." She paused for a moment and corrected, "Well, our room, I guess."
She blushed a bit when she said those words. She never thought that one day she would be saying those words to Killian Jones, let alone any other male.
He waltzed into the room like he owned the place, comfortable in their silence that had developed. He set his bag down at the foot of her bed—well, their bed. Walking around the room, he took everything in.
The master bedroom wasn't really large, but had room for her California king bed and a couple of dressers. Over time, she had decluttered her room, making it a drastic difference from the childhood room Killian probably remembered.
Her old bedroom had bright pink walls with ballet dancer wallpaper, and had clothes and toys thrown around the room, the toy box her father had made her unused against the wall. He was used to crazy Emma, whose mom tried to make her pick up her mess even though at the time, Emma cleaning meant Emma making more of a mess.
Thankfully, that had changed over the years.
She watched him as he walked around the dressers, taking in the small knick knacks she kept on each one. One dresser held her perfume and jewelry, not that she had much of either. She only had one glass bottle of perfume and a few pieces of jewelry that she had received from her mom over the years.
She watched as Killian toyed with a simple silver cross that hung on the holder.
"This looks familiar," he said in almost a whisper, already knowing what Emma's answer would be.
"It was your mom's. My mom gave it to me after I graduated from college. She said your mom left it with her to give to me when I did, in case she couldn't be there," she replied in a soft voice, not wanting to bring on either of their emotions towards the subject.
Thankfully, he just smiled and pulled her close to him, embracing her tightly.
He let go quickly, moving back to continue his investigation of his new living quarters.
The other two dressers held the same items, framed photos of her childhood and friends. She had Mary Margaret and David's wedding picture, Emma standing beside the bride in a gorgeous blush colored gown. There were a few of Henry from various activities - a soccer picture, with a goal framing her son, a picture of him with Ruby when they had ridden the Tower of Terror from the trip they took to Disney. There was a picture of her parents and her at all of her graduations: from kindergarten to college, a total of five spanning the years.
One photo stood out - the one she had looked at a million times since her parents found it. It was the photo of her and Killian at Halloween. The smiles on their faces were so bright. Their hands were clasped together, holding one another tight.
Emma watched as his eyes zeroed in on the framed photograph. The frame was simple, like all the other ones and matched her decor. He slowly reached for the photo, not needing to move any aside. Emma had always kept that photo front and center on her dresser, a reminder of the good times and memories they used to have.
She bought that frame the day after her mom found the photo. It had sat proudly on her dresser during high school, then was the only photo she kept on her desk at college. She was tempted to bring it with her to school, to display it the way she displayed photos of her childhood pets, parents, Henry, and friends; but the photo meant too much to her to have it there.
His hands steadily picked up the photo, one hand going to trace the outlines of the kids ingrained in the image. There was a sad smile on his face that Emma studied.
"What is it?" her question came minutes later after watching him stare at the photo tracing their faces.
"I just can't believe you've kept this all these years," he explained, turning to look at her.
She hadn't realized she had moved closer to him in their silence.
"Of course I would; when my parents found it before my birthday, I knew I could never part with it. It's one of my most valuable keepsakes," she confessed.
He didn't say anything.
Instead, he pulled her flush against him, pressing a hungry kiss to her lips. It was short lived though. Almost as quick as his lips had attacked her mouth, they were pulling away. Something was telling her that he didn't want to deepen the kiss, that he didn't want to let himself get too far out of control.
"Ummmm, yeah," Emma said, breaking the awkwardness that surrounded them as the kiss ended, with Killian's arms still wrapped around her waist.
He laughed at her comment.
"Anything else to show me, love?"
She pointed with her finger towards the opaque door that was situated in the middle of her wall, across from the large windows that framed the other side of her room.
He walked over to open the door to what was now their bathroom. When Emma had bought the house, she knew she was going to need to update some of it. It was a small fixer-upper; nothing too drastic, but she knew the master bath was going to need the update.
She had Leroy from the local building and construction company handle the update. She let him and his partners decide most of the updates, but she had one request that she wouldn't budge on. She wanted a large bathtub and a rainfall shower.
Leroy came through, and now her bathroom was her own personal spa.
Her thoughts began to turn dirty as she thought of Killian showering in her large shower, water trailing down his chest, his hair soaked and sticking to parts of his face. She thought of him sitting in the giant tub, bubbles surrounding him, the sensual scent of black currant shower gel filling the air. She could picture her back against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her close.
"Love?" She heard coming from the doorway of the bathroom.
"Huh?" she questioned, a bit embarrassed that he caught her daydreaming, thankful that mind reading was just fantasy. "What did you say?"
"I just asked where I should put my stuff?"
"Oh, yeah, ummm…. could you actually keep your stuff in the guest room? I've decided to tell Henry that you are simply a friend in need of a place to stay, and if you keep your stuff in there, there will be less questions," she explained.
"Aye," he replied quickly with some sadness in his tone.
"Hey," she started, moving to stand in front of him, still in the door of the bathroom, "just because your stuff is living there doesn't mean you are."
He looked up at her, some hope in those deep blue eyes.
"We said a month of acting like we are married, which means that you sleep here with me," her confidence shaking a bit with the mention of them in the same bed.
"If the lady insists," he smiled, back to the Killian she had gotten used to in the past day.
He leaned down to press a kiss on her cheek before moving to bring his stuff to his pretend room. With the absence of his lips, she moved to sit down on her bed, wondering about their night to come.
Emma had only shared a bed with two people in her entire life, and it was never for longer than two days. Emma hated sharing a bed with someone. She liked her space, liked to have the room to roll however she wanted, liked being able to stretch out far and wide. The two times she shared her bed, she was miserable the entire time.
Would Killian want to sleep close to her? What side of the bed would he want to sleep on? Was he a snorer or have sleep apnea?
Of course, all of those questions could be answered by simply asking him - walking into the other room and just telling him she was nervous about the night, among other things; but instead of facing her fear head on, she sat on her bed, picking at the cuticles around her thumbs. It was a nervous fidget that she knew she should try and break.
She hadn't noticed him walk back into the room. He stood there leaning against the doorframe to her room, silently watching her.
"What's on your mind, Swan?"
She didn't answer, just continued to wring her hands and peel at the skin that was hanging on a tiny strand.
Looking up at him, she knew her face told him everything he needed to know, because in an instant, he was sitting down next to her, pulling her hands apart, moving them to intertwine with his. He lifted their joined hands and kissed them lightly.
"Love, we don't need to do anything you are uncomfortable with; if you want, I can sleep in the guest room," he offered.
It warmed her heart to hear him say it. She didn't want him to sleep in the guest room, but hearing the offer made her mind stop racing. She trusted him, knowing that he wouldn't do anything unbecoming, but hearing him say it to simply calm some of the darker fears was perfect.
It gave her the strength to say what was really bothering her.
"It's not that, even though I'm thankful to hear it; we just don't know much about each other. And look at us, acting like we do," she confessed.
Maybe she was rushing into this.
"We know each other; there are just some things we have to relearn, that's all. It's just like playing an old video game or rewatching an old show. You know some parts of it, but not all, but give time and it will all come back to you," he smiled.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," she conceded.
"We will figure it all out as we go, just like any normal couple. I promise," he added, leaning down to press another chaste kiss to her lips.
After her minor freak out, Killian suggested they make some dinner and settle in for the night.
He was taking the lead, even though Emma was pretty sure he was just as nervous about their new arrangement as she was.
Yet, as he chopped the veggies and she started on the meat, they fell into a comfortable and easy silence. They moved around the kitchen in a silent dance; Emma always knew where he was without even looking at him, and he moved around her without a second thought, their movements becoming second nature.
She didn't have much in her kitchen, since grocery day was Sunday and normally if Henry was home on the weekend, they would order pizza and have a night in while rewatching old movies from Emma's childhood. Sometimes Henry would plead to watch something from this century he said, so Emma would relent and watch a Marvel movie or two.
Because of the lack of food, they had to settle on something rather simple and uneventful, tacos.
Once they had finished the cooking, she walked him into the living room.
"We rarely use the dining room," she explained. "It just seems so stuffy, plus I don't cook that often."
"So what do you eat for dinner normally?" He wondered, taking a bite of a taco at the end of his question.
They sat on her comfortable couch, TV trays set in front of them. She had turned the TV on, a habit more than anything else, and put on a show that was really just background noise but that she and Henry enjoyed watching.
"Well, Mary Margaret normally makes enough dinner for her and David that Henry and I get leftovers. Sometimes I just throw some chicken and veggies in the crock pot, but I would say we often just eat something simple, whether it's grilled cheese or a TV dinner."
"If you don't mind, I would love to cook you all dinner each night," he said casually, like it was no big deal.
"Are you sure? I mean, can you really cook us dinner each night? You don't have to, Killian," she tried to fight.
"It's no problem love; I don't mind. In fact, I enjoy cooking. I even took a few classes. I got an A in Home Economics in high school," he said with a wink.
"Well, if you insist," she replied.
After dinner had been eaten, their plates cleared and placed in the dishwasher, they walked back down the hallway to the bedroom, a new silence falling over them.
"Did you want to use the bathroom first?" he asked as they entered the room.
"No, that's OK. I normally shower in the morning," she whispered, looking around the room.
"Me too, but you are welcome to join me if you need to wash your face or brush your teeth," he offered.
"Thanks," was her only response as they walked in tandem into the bathroom and began their nighttime routine.
She wouldn't really call it awkward, as they moved just how they did in the kitchen. Their bodies moved in sync, no awkwardness there. No, it was Emma's mind creating the tension in the room, making her silent when all she wanted to do was tell him just how nervous she really was.
She left him for a moment to change, grabbing her clothes from her drawer and slinking down to the guest bathroom to finish her nightly routine, like the coward that she was.
For a brief moment, she worried about what she wore to bed. Emma wasn't a PJ type of girl. Most of the time she hated being in clothes at all when she slept, feeling they suffocated her. When Henry moved in, she was worried it would cause some issues, but they quickly came to an understanding that he was to knock and wait before entering her bedroom and she gave him the same respect. The only thing that changed was Emma now kept a robe next to her bed in case.
But with Killian now sharing her bed, she wasn't sure if she should be wearing so little clothing, even though she was pretty sure he wouldn't be upset if she wore just her panties to bed. So instead she wore an old pair of cheer shorts and a sports bra. She didn't want to make herself even more uncomfortable than she already was.
With her traditional workout clothes on, and her bladder emptied, she walked back into the room. Killian had closed the bathroom door, but must have been on the other side, because her bed was still empty.
She wanted to wait to ask which side of the bed he preferred, but was also just wanting to get in before she felt his eyes roam her body.
The left side of the bed is what she chose, even though it faced the bathroom.
She closed her eyes and took some steadying breaths, scolding herself for feeling all the nerves that were coursing through her body. After their conversation earlier she thought she would be fine, but now that the moment was upon them, she couldn't stop the buzzing.
Her eyes squeezed shut when she heard the door click open. She didn't want to steal a glance at him, worried that he would read her right away.
Thankfully, he didn't say anything to her, padding around to the other side of the bed.
Emma had turned off the lights as she entered the room, leaving only the lamp on the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed on. It cast a soft glow around the room, one that Emma could barely see through her eyelids.
She felt the bed dip as he sat himself down on the bed. There was a long pause before she felt the bed even out as his weight was distributed and the light flicked off.
Now that darkness enveloped them, she opened her eyes. She must have not felt him move more, because as her lids opened, she saw his outline hovering above her. A small gasp left her mouth as his outline became clear and his face came into focus.
"I know this has been weird, and I know you are nervous about everything, but I promise, Swan, we won't do anything you are uncomfortable with; but we should both get used to this, because you wanted this, love. However, I'm a patient man and I won't push you. One thing I will say though is that I am really glad I'm here." He dipped down closer to her face. "Good night, love."
With that, not allowing her to get in a word otherwise, he placed a hot kiss to her lips. The kiss wasn't hard or wanting, but there was a passion behind it.
He pulled back, rolled to his side and went to sleep.
"Good night," she responded, a wave of relief washing over body.
What Emma hadn't expected was that their bodies did more than just move in sync. During the night, while they were both under the cloud of dreams, their bodies move towards one another. An invisible attraction pulled them closer.
If she had been able to watch a replay of that night she would have seen their bodies slowly move towards the middle of the bed. Emma's hands reaching out towards him as her body rolled over to face him. Without a moment lost, his body mirrored hers, rolling to face her. Soon, their bodies drifted across the divide and curled around each other. Emma's face came to rest in the nook of Killian's chest. She took a deep breath settling into him. His arms instinctively wrapped around her smaller frame, pulling her close. Their legs intertwined, causing each of them to get goosebumps. He nuzzled into her hair.
Neither one of them would let themselves be parted throughout the night. Emma was a restless sleeper, constantly moving as her dreams took her where her mind wondered. As she turned, he moved with her. Soon, she settled into a sleep deeper than she had ever slept before. Killian's face was still nuzzled into her head, but Emma now faced away from him. Yet, his hold on her was never stronger. His arms reached around, keeping her pinned to him, wedged into the natural curl of his body.
That's how they woke up the next morning, each having a soft smile on their lips.