Chapter 2 - Cookies and Kittens
Three weeks later Emma wasn't so sure anymore that not seeing a certain priest was making it any easier to forget their meeting. He had now even slipped into her dreams, taking the place of the stranger in the leather coat. Dreams that she still had almost every night. But the dream last night was the icing on the cake.
She dreamt about being in kind of a jungle, the heat pressing down on her, sweat streaming out of every single pore on her body. She argued with the stranger in the leather coat. Well, if she were honest, it was more flirting than arguing. Then he said something about her showing him how thankful she was while tipping his finger against his lips. She told him he couldn't handle it and he challenged her back. Of course the only thing she could do then was close her hands around the lapels of his coat and haul him forward. Crashing her lips against his, she kissed him as if her life depended on it. When they needed to come up for air she forced herself to open her eyes and that was the moment she'd jerked awake. Because this time she'd seen the face of the stranger clearly, recognized the blue eyes in an unfortunately far too familiar face. The face of a man she had no right to want, a man she couldn't have.
Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it.
These words, at least, were accurate. Father Jones' words in the dream definitely hit the nail on the head. She was not handling this whole situation well at all.
The pounding in her temples started up again, making her groan and putting her head down on her desk. If she didn't manage to get a good night's sleep very soon she needed to go to the doctor to get something for the headaches that kept plaguing her. Then that doctor would probably send her to see a psychiatrist to find a reason for her strange dreams. Easier said than done though, since their town's psychiatrist, Dr. Archibald Hopper, had disappeared two weeks ago without a trace. His dog had been found deep in the woods, barking like mad and running around the same spot in circles as if his owner might reappear right out of the earth at any moment.
Sighing deeply, she reached for the file about Dr. Hopper's disappearance, hoping that she might find something new that she'd missed in the sparse facts the first five times she'd poured over the file before. But all she managed to do was to make her headache worse.
Emma contemplated for a few seconds if she should take some ibuprofen or get some coffee when the door to the station swung open and David walked in. In one hand he carried two coffees and in the other hand a bag with the logo of the town's donut place on it.
"That's exactly what I need right now," Emma exclaimed, rushing over to him and practically yanking the treats out of his hands.
He followed her slowly as she dropped onto the next available chair and ripped the bag open, letting out a soft moan when she saw he brought Boston Creams.
"You look like crap," David told her as he sat down beside her, pulling one coffee cup out of the tray to put it on the table beside her.
"And you talk to Mary Margaret with that mouth?" Emma mumbled around the bite of donut she'd just taken. Swallowing it down, she added, "No wonder she won't go out with you. Being a gentleman goes a long way with women. Believe me."
"First of all, I don't talk to Mary Margaret like that. You know that. I'm alwaysa gentleman."
"Maybe that's the problem, then. Maybe you should just grab her and kiss her."
David just threw her an exasperated look, ignoring what she'd just said. "Second, I've never asked her out. And before you tell me that's my own fault because I'm too afraid of a rejection. You know why I haven't asked her yet."
"Yeah, I know," Emma said, stopping all the teasing as she saw the pained look on David's face.
David's divorce from Kathryn wasn't finalized yet. They'd only separated three months ago, and Emma did understand why David wanted to wait. But watching her two friends try to hide their feelings and make moon eyes at each other when the other wasn't looking was heartbreaking.
She leaned forward and squeezed David's hand in a silent show of her understanding. Even if she tended to tease him mercilessly sometimes, David knew she'd always have his back. They'd been friends and partners for a very long time.
David squeezed her hand back before settling back in his chair. When his eyes fell on the open file on Emma's desk he asked, "Find anything?"
"No," Emma sighed, looking at the file as if she hoped something might jump out at her. Of course it didn't. "Nothing. How is that possible? We didn't find anything at the scene. No signs of struggle. No blood. No nothing. Everything looked totally normal, other than Pongo going completely crazy."
"Maybe he just left for one reason or another?"
"Without Pongo?" Emma asked, clear skepticism tinging her voice. "Not likely."
"Yeah, he loves that dog way too much to do that."
"And that leaves us with…" Emma leaned forward and put her head on the table, closing her eyes as she groaned, "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."
Emma jerked up when the door was suddenly yanked open and bumped into the wall with a loud thunk and in strutted one Mayor Mills. With her perfectly pressed business suit, her perfect hair without one strand daring to lie astray, and her perfect makeup, some days Emma wondered if the woman might go into a rage if she broke a nail. Her musings were interrupted when she detected the frown between the mayor's perfectly groomed eyebrows. Emma couldn't imagine what had put that frown on her face. Probably someone had the audacity to walk on the same sidewalk than her majesty. Before Emma could come up with more entertaining scenarios, Regina stepped into the station, her hand clamped tightly around someone's upper arm.
"Sheriff Nolan," the mayor barked, pulling the person harshly into the room with her. "I found this…" She threw a disgusted look over her shoulder at the man she'd dragged inside. "...person in the woods. Right where Dr. Hopper had disappeared. He'd told me an outlandish story why he was there, which made me bring him here. He's clearly acting suspicious."
The man just lifted one eyebrow at the mayor but refrained from defending himself in any way. Instead he stepped forward and held out his hand to Emma, a smile curling his lips upwards, including an adorable dimple. He was clearly a good-looking man, though the clothes he was wearing seemed kind of strange.
"Robin of Locksley, Ma'am."
"Robin of…you've got to be kidding me," Emma mumbled under her breath, pulling her hand back with more force than probably necessary. They were standing in the middle of a police station. This man might be crazy, but he hopefully wasn't crazy enough to attack her. "You definitely don't look like a fox."
"A fox?" The man's smile faltered, being replaced by a completely confused expression. "I don't understand."
"Never mind." Emma waved her ridiculous statement aside, trying to keep from blushing when Mayor Mills let out a scoff beside her.
"How about I'm handling that and you go home and get some much needed rest?"
David patted her shoulder, throwing her one of the looks they'd perfected over the years. This one was the 'crazy persons are my job' look. David had the patience of a saint, something that was required when dealing with delusional people. Emma just got annoyed with them way too easily.
"You look a little under the weather, Deputy Swan," Miss Mills said in a derisive tone. "Sheriff Nolan is right. You shouldn't spread your germs all over town. Some people have actually work to do around here."
All Emma's hackles rose up with the mayor's words, a sharp retort already making its way out of her mouth when she caught David's gaze over the mayor's shoulder. His barely-there head shake made her bite her tongue and swallow the words she wanted to say.
"Of course, Mayor Mills."
Miss Mills turned around sharply on one of her heels, throwing David an icy look. "I like to be present during the interrogation of Mr. Locksley here, Sheriff Nolan."
"It's not an interrogation," David replied calmly. "He didn't do anything illegal, did he?"
"Well, he did traipse through our forest, pretending not to know where he is."
"With all due respect, Madam. I don't lie," Mr. Locksley, or whoever he really was, interjected, another of his adorable dimpled smiles pulling his lips up as he added with a clear sparkle in his eyes, "Only if absolutely necessary."
"See, definitely suspicious," the mayor practically snarled. "I'm sure he's hiding something. Let's find out what, shall we, Sheriff Nolan?"
"After you, Madam Mayor."
Emma hastily grabbed her purse out of the drawer and rushed towards the door before Regina decided that she needed Emma present for what seemed to be a very uncomfortable interrogation. Not that she felt really sick. But she didn't envy David at all. She might even try to catch some germs on her way home to soothe her guilty conscience for taking the barest hint of an excuse to escape that tense situation.
When she opened the door she took in a deep breath of the wonderfully fresh air. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head up to the sun for a few seconds, the sun's warm rays helping to relieve the tension between her shoulder blades as she started to walk down the street towards their apartment.
Maybe she could make good use of the free afternoon and see if Henry wanted to get some Rocky Road ice cream and enjoy the sun with her at their favorite place down at the pier. She was sure Henry was up for some people watching and story spinning. His stories were always entertaining since he had a vivid imagination and liked to come up with the most fantastic tales about random people. His stories about the Jolly Roger were always the best. Her son clearly loved his pirate stories.
When she reached their apartment complex Emma took two steps at a time, hastening up the stairs to Mary Margaret's third floor apartment. When she ended up at the door a little bit too winded, she promised herself to spend some more time at the gym, otherwise Leroy might be able to slip through her fingers one day while on one of his drunken rampages. That definitely couldn't happen. She'd be the laughingstock of the whole town for weeks.
She knocked once before using the keys Mary Margaret had given her a while back, insisting that Emma needed a set for emergencies and flower watering. Not that Mary Margaret had ever left town since Emma had known her, but she was of the firm belief that you had to pick your fights and arguing over a set of keys was definitely not worth it.
A grin pulled at her mouth when she saw Henry bent over his homework at the kitchen table, his tongue poking out of his lips as he concentrated on whatever he was working on. Once again she thanked their lucky stars or whatever good fortune that had brought Mary Margaret into their life only days after Emma and Henry had arrived in Storybrooke. Emma hadn't looked forward to the search for someone who could watch Henry in the afternoons. Fortunately, she didn't have to look at all. She'd met Mary Margaret when she brought Henry to school for his first day, asking his teacher if she knew of someone who could look after her son. Mary Margaret had smiled at her and told her she'd be happy to take care of Henry while Emma was working her shift at the police station. The arrangement was perfect since Emma and Henry only lived one floor beneath Mary Margaret, and Henry loved his teacher. He didn't complain even once about being old enough and not needing a sitter.
Emma walked over to her son and ruffled his hair before leaning down to press a kiss on his forehead. Henry swatted at her hand, the exasperated expression that flickered over his face making her almost laugh.
"Hey, kiddo."
"Hi, Mom," Henry replied, not even looking up from his homework.
"Where is Mary Margaret?" Emma asked, a frown building between her brows as she looked over the apartment, wondering where her friend was. Normally she was either sitting right beside Henry helping him with his homework or she was bustling around in the kitchen. But today the apartment was eerily quiet.
"I'm here," a raspy voice came from the direction of the couch, her friend's head appearing over the back a second later.
She looked horrible. Her eyes were glassy and her face quite pale. Her fingers shook as she curled one hand around the leather to push herself up.
"Woah, you don't look so good."
"I'm feeling a little under the weather." Mary Margaret's face got even paler when she sat up completely. "But I need to get up anyway."
Suddenly her son decided to take part in the conversation and exclaimed, "There's a bake sale at the church. Miss Blanchard made cookies for it." His eyes practically sparkled as he licked his lips. "She gave me one. They're delicious. I'm sure they'll be gone very quickly."
"You need to go out again?" Emma asked, dread curling in her stomach when she looked her friend over. There was no way she could let Mary Margaret go out in her state. But that meant she actually had to deliver the cookies. To the church, where she would definitely run into a certain priest she'd been avoiding for the past three weeks.
Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it.
"You should stay put," Emma told Mary Margaret, accepting the inevitable with an internal sigh. "Henry and I can take the cookies to the church."
"No, I'm fine. I can get them there myself."
Emma watched her friend trying to get up from the couch for a few seconds before rolling her eyes and pushing her gently back to lie down again. "You're not going anywhere."
She'd expected an argument, but when Mary Margaret just slumped back on the couch and closed her eyes, Emma knew she'd made the right decision by biting the bullet. It wouldn't kill her to take the cookies to the church. It should only take a few minutes. In and out. She should be able to handle being in Father Jones' presence for such a short time without embarrassing herself in any way.
Yep, piece of cake.
After making sure that Mary Margaret had everything she needed, Emma took the box of cookies from the sideboard and shooed Henry out of the door. On their way to the church Henry told her excitedly about his day at school, then jumped right into one of his stories about a man he saw this morning feeding the ducks. Fortunately, his chatter distracted her enough so that she could ignore the dampness of her palms and the queasy feeling in her stomach.
She'd be fine. No big deal.
In and out, Swan. Just a few minutes. You can do it.
The mewling sounds from the corner of his office broke Killian's concentration again, and he couldn't help but smile as he looked at the fluffy balls of fur falling all over each other. He'd found the litter this morning on the church's steps, his heart going out to the little cats immediately. He'd heard stories about people leaving animals and even babies in front of a church, hoping the church could provide them with the care they needed. He should be glad that he hadn't found a baby. He wouldn't have known what to do with a small human being. Kittens were way easier to handle. He'd taken them into his office in the basket they'd been in and after a quick search of the internet he'd gone on a supply run to get everything these small animals needed until he could find homes for them.
A hissing sound made him look closer and he grinned when he saw one of the kittens push another one with its tiny nose, its tiny teeth bared in an adorable snarl. Maybe he would keep one for himself. This black one with the white paws was definitely cute.
He pushed himself up from his chair and walked over, leaning down to grab the kitten in question and lift it into his arms. It immediately snuggled against his chest, kneading his forearms with its paws.
"You're a little scoundrel already, aren't you?" The kitten answered him with a yawn, looking up at him with an expression on its tiny face that melted his heart. He adjusted it on his prosthetic hand to scratch it between its ear with his fingers. "I'll find good homes for all of you," Killian murmured into the fur of the kitten, smiling when it let out a soft purr and scratched its head against his shoulder before butting its head against his fingers, apparently eager to get petted some more.
A knock at the door startled him, but before he could say anything the door opened and a young boy rushed in. His eyes immediately fell to the pile of kittens in the corner and without addressing Killian, the lad hurried over to them.
"Mom, look," he said over his shoulder, going down on his knees beside the basket. "Kittens."
Killian ignored the kitten currently trying to claw its way through his shirt to see who the boy was talking to. When he saw the woman entering his office seconds later, his breath caught in his throat, his heart suddenly beating erratically.
It was her. God, she was so beautiful.
Emma shot an apologetic smile in his direction before turning towards the young lad who was trying to pet all the kittens at once.
"Henry, leave the kittens alone."
"But, Mom. Look at them. They're so cute."
Apparently the woman who'd never been far from his thoughts day and night had a son. Questions assaulted his brain instantly. Where was the father? Who was the father? Was she married? Henry must be about twelve years of age. Emma didn't look as if she were over thirty yet. Did that mean she had Henry when she was still a teenager?
He had to bite his tongue to keep himself from letting the questions spill free. It was none of his business anyways. They weren't friends – they'd only seen each other for a few minutes at Granny's Diner. It wasn't as if he had any romantic interest in her either. Well, none that he could pursue openly, as he was a priest after all. Having dreams about her and fighting a battle with his baser biological urges every day was bad enough.
"So we're just barging into other people's offices and forgetting all our manners?" Emma asked her son, yanking Killian out of his spiraling thoughts about the woman who just made him more curious the more he got to know about her.
"Sorry, Mom." Henry jumped up and walked over to Killian, stretching out his hand. "I'm Henry Swan. It's nice to meet you, Father Jones."
It took Killian a few seconds to free his hand, positioning the kitten carefully in the crook of his arm before taking Henry's outstretched hand. "Nice to meet you, too, Mister Swan."
Henry beamed up at him, clearly pleased to be called mister. "Are these all your kittens, Father?"
"I found them on the doorstep this morning. For now they're mine. But I need to find a home for all of them," Killian explained, seeing the excitement wash over the lad's face when he mentioned giving the kittens away. "Might keep this one though." He stroked one finger down the kitten's back, smiling when it arched into the touch. "It already seems very attached to me."
"Mom, can I have one?" Henry asked excitedly. "Please?"
"Henry, I don't think we can."
Henry had crouched down beside the basket again, reaching carefully for one kitten and lifting it into his arms. "But look at that one. It looks like Rocket."
Henry held the kitten up for his mother's inspection and Killian had to hide his smile. The lad was right. The kitten had raccoon eyes. Killian might not have the time to watch much TV, but he had to admit that the Marvel superhero movies were a guilty pleasure of him. Of course he knew which character Henry was talking about. After all, Guardians of the Galaxy was one of his favorite movies.
"Henry, we talked about not being able to have any pets."
"But it's only a kitten. We don't have to walk it several times a day and it can stay at home alone. We just need to buy a litter box for it and I'm sure it won't get much dirt in the apartment." Henry cradled the kitten against his chest, burying his face in its fur for a moment before he looked up at his mother and pleaded, "Please."
"I…" Miss Swan looked away from her son and met Killian's gaze, clearly seeking his help.
"It still needs a lot of attention, Henry," Killian said, trying to explain to the lad that having a kitten wasn't as easy as he seemed to think. "Especially in the first few weeks."
"I can give him all the attention it needs," Henry said with utmost conviction in his voice.
The kitten chose this exact moment to poke out its tiny tongue and lick all over Henry's fingers before burying its tiny head into Henry's neck, making the boy giggle. Kilian saw Emma's shoulders slump, a soft expression flickering over her face as she watched her son. It wasn't hard to see the exact moment when Emma gave in. Her lips opened on a silent sigh before her eyes found his and he whispered a silent 'sorry' over her son's shoulder. She narrowed her eyes at him for a second, but then her lips curled up in a smile that made his heart skip a beat.
"All right, all right. You win." Her words elicited a loud whoop from her son. "If Father Jones is okay with it, we'll be taking it home."
"Father Jones?" Henry turned towards him, looking at him pleadingly. The lad definitely knew how to use the whole 'puppy dog eyes' routine to his advantage. No wonder Emma had given in so easily. "Can we have it? I'll take good care of it. Promise."
Killian looked up at Emma for guidance, not wanting to undermine her with his answer. But she just rolled her eyes at him and nodded. "Sure, Henry. It's yours if you want it."
"Do you hear that, Rocket?" Henry held the kitten up before his face, letting out another giggle when the kitten mewled softly and wiggled in Henry's hands, his tiny paws swirling around frantically. "I can take you home with us."
"All right, then." Emma sighed, lifting her eyes to his again. "Can you give us some pointers on what we need to buy for the kitten?"
"Aye, I made a list this morning." Killian turned towards his desk and reached for the paper he'd printed out a few hours ago.
Emma stepped closer, her arm brushing against his as she leaned forward. The innocent motion stole his breath, goosebumps running over his body as he tried to hide his reaction to her being so close to him. He felt like a teenager whenever Emma was near, as if he were sixteen again with his first crush on a woman. Milah had been twice his age, but he hadn't cared. Of course, Liam had made fun of him the moment he'd found out.
The thought of Liam made his missing hand throb with phantom pain as his heart squeezed in his chest. Liam had been dead for fifteen years now, but thinking about his big brother still hurt. He'd adored his brother, never left his side for long when he was home, wanted to be just like him when he grew up. He wanted to follow in his brother's footsteps, had already looked into how to become an officer in the Special Boat Service, the British equivalent of the Navy Seals here in America. But then the boating accident happened and he'd lost his big brother and his hand. His dreams had been shattered in mere minutes, and sometimes he wondered if he'd really managed to come back from it.
Shaking off the dark thoughts, he held the paper out to Emma, her fingers brushing against his as she took it. Their gazes collided and suddenly time seemed to stand still, Henry's excited chatter fading into the background. All he could concentrate on was Emma's eyes, the mesmerizing green irises and the small brown ring around her pupils. He wondered if her eyes changed color with her emotions. How would they look when she was angry? Or aroused?
Thankfully, Henry broke the spell when he tugged at his mother's arms to show her how big Rocket's paws were in comparison to the rest of his body. Killian shifted on his feet, wondering if it would be too conspicuous if he lowered the kitten to his midsection to hide his half-hard cock. How was it possible that this woman elicited such extreme reactions from his body with only one innocent touch?
"Thank you, Father Jones." Emma stepped back then, leaving him feeling bereft of the contact and relieved that they weren't touching anymore in equal measures.
"So," he croaked out, feeling heat creep into his cheeks when his voice broke over the word. He needed to get a grip before making a fool of himself. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Miss Swan? I don't imagine you developed the gift of clairvoyance and came here because of the kittens."
"No, right." She blushed, the redness of her cheeks making it impossible for him to get his cock to behave. Bloody hell.
"So why did you come?" Killian asked, hoping her eyes wouldn't wander down his body and see the bulge his pants clearly couldn't hide. Thankfully, she didn't. She just threw him an apologetic smile and held up the box in her hand.
"Mary Margaret, ahem, Miss Blanchard is sick. She wanted to bring the cookies for the bake sale herself, but I convinced her that I can take them to you."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Please give her my best wishes."
"Will do, Father. We'll leave you to it." She turned around and gestured to Henry to get moving. "Let's go, Henry."
"Miss Swan?" He grinned when she turned around to him with a questioning look on her face. It pleased him to no end that she apparently wasn't immune to the chemistry sizzling between them every time they met either. She was clearly as flustered as he was, since the box of cookies was still in her hand. "The cookies?"
"Right. Of course."
She thrusted the box in his direction, the color in her cheeks deepening even further when she realized that he couldn't take it while the kitten was still in his arms. With a low chuckle she leaned forward and put the box on his desk, brushing up against his body again. He gritted his teeth as another wave of lust washed over him. This was getting completely out of hand.
"Have a nice day, Miss Swan," Killian said, hoping his voice didn't betray his inner turmoil.
"You too, Father," Emma murmured, avoiding his gaze. And then she practically ran out of his office.
Killian leaned back against his desk, letting out a deep breath when the door clicked shut behind her. This woman was becoming a huge problem for him.
He wanted her. And he didn't know how to quench that particular thirst.