for emmaswanshair on tumblr.
prompts: coconut rum + butts
As when most things go wrong in Storybrooke, they heard the news from Leroy first, who sprinted to the entrance of Granny's and would have most likely shot straight through the glass if Emma hadn't been making her way out just that moment. He bypassed her completely, skidding to a stop in front of David and Snow, panting for breath.
Despite Emma being the sheriff, the king and queen still make priority sometimes. Or all the time. Emma doesn't make a fuss about it, her brows drawn together in thought as she turned back to the group, taking her spot by Killian's side.
"They are here!"
"Care to be more specific, mate?" Killian asked while the rest exchanged puzzled, tired looks after just dealing with a catastrophe of Regina's Evil Queen alter ego sorts.
"Pirates!"
Leroy went on, but everyone looked at Killian which was a little insulting because he certainly didn't deserve for them to look at him like he was about to go Captain Hook on them. He hadn't done anything remotely nefarious in ages. Well, okay, except for that time that he maybe stole all of Charming's left shoes, but that was a prank that Henry orchestrated and he couldn't take the entire blame for it.
He kept his face blank, but something like unworthiness was creeping up his spine and across his shoulders, bringing tension with it that had his hand clenching by his side. Despite all he had done, despite all that he had lost and regained, he probably wouldn't see those looks of distrust go away.
Her hand brushed his. He let a breath out, looking over at Emma, who had backtracked at Grumpy's exclamation, standing by his side and he could have believed, for a second, that it was an accident, until her thumb touched his knuckles gently. Instinctively, he uncurled his hand, letting her palm fit against his, her fingers finding a place in between his.
He let out a breath, blinking back the demons that would only disappear with time, lighter already just holding her, knowing that his place was at her side regardless of what other's thought.
-and considering David had laughed about the shoe thing and Snow still fussed over him when she could, he didn't think they objected to his presence all that much. Or they were very talented liars, but he knew that wasn't the case, especially with Snow White.
Which was probably rude to think, but nonetheless true.
"Do you know them?" David said, interrupting Killian's internal monologue.
"Pardon?"
"The pirates - what were their names, Leroy?"
For having pirates enter their harbor, without any of them knowing and without any of them knowing who they were, the prince was remarkably calm.
Perhaps everyone was numb to the never ending parade of disasters that Storybrooke attracted and just learned to accept it.
"We didn't... they came after us when we went to see what was happening, yelling at us to run, and we left to warn everyone," Leroy explained, shifting his pickaxe from one shoulder to the other in either a show of strength or nervousness.
Killian didn't bother deciphering which one, suddenly struck with the reason why everyone was looking at him: they thought he would know, that he could help with knowledge the rest of them didn't possess. Which was foolish, of course, because he had been in Neverland for 300 hundred years and hadn't spent much time on the sea upon his return before Regina cast her curse, but it was thoughtful all the same.
The lingering weight, the kind that Emma's touch hadn't sent away, fell away with his exhale.
"Not entirely helpful, but it would be best to keep an eye on them regardless. Anyone I know from the past isn't likely to be an ally," he said.
"What, you mean you didn't make friends with all your rival pirates?" Emma asked, her lips twitching up in a rather distracting smile that had him spending a long moment just looking at her. Her eyes darkened, quite correctly reading his thoughts, before Prince Neal gave an impressive belch and they both broke away, identical expressions of guilt on their face.
Nobody noticed - or they didn't comment, probably not wanting to know what the savior and the pirate did in their free time. Which wasn't much of anything, thank you very much, because this town had so many of the formerly mentioned disasters.
"Mom, can you stay with Henry? Just until we find out who they are."
"Emma-" Snow shared a long look with David, a conversation taking place between their eyes, before she heaved a sigh, nodding her head. "Alright, Neal and I will head over to your place, I'll call Regina and let her know of our... unexpected guests. Let me know if anything happens."
Emma gave a little salute that made Killian laugh and Snow relax. She dropped her hand abruptly, rolling her eyes at him, before directing her next round of orders to Leroy. "Take the dwarves, hang out at the Rabbit Hole, if they are anything like most pirates, they'll sniff out a tavern."
He silently agreed, knowing that after months at sea, there were only a few places that a person would go and Storybrooke only offered one of them. Never mind never being to Storybrooke at all, they would sniff it out.
"Dad, keep an eye out here. Killian, let's go to the docks, maybe you'll recognize the boat." He was quite sure that she did that on purpose, no doubt attempting to add levity to a situation that none of them want to deal with anymore. Before he can correct her, the rest of the group head out the door with their orders, none of them bothering to argue as they usual did.
If that doesn't say how exhausted all of them are, nothing will.
...
It's an unusually cold, but they are right next to the sea in the rapidly approaching winter so neither of them are much surprised about it. He drew her into his side, his arm around her shoulders, feeling her relax against him and he can't help the little bubble of happiness that blooms in him every time she does something like this.
Emma wasn't one for easy affection, at least not in the beginning, especially not when they might be walking into danger, but now he can't imagine her anywhere else except right beside him.
They don't make a menacing sight and he guessed that's why nobody tried to jump out at them as they step up onto the dock, the planks creaking under their feet, making their way cautiously to the ship that isn't familiar. She leaned closer as they stop a good distance away, not quite hidden from view but standing in the shadow of another ship. Her face tilted into his shoulder, but it isn't to burrow in his warmth so much as to ask a question: "Do you recognize it?"
He studied the ship intently. It was likely a fine ship once upon a time, but either their voyage was a long one that kept them from proper maintenance or their captain was horrid. It's much larger than the Roger is, both in width and length, but it's far less majestic. Their sail is no longer white, more resembling dirt along the beach, and torn in more than one place; it would likely need to be replaced entirely with the amount of work needed to put it back into place. The hull needs some repairs from the minimal of it he can see, but he wouldn't let anyone step foot on it if the water level told him anything of its safety.
If he guessed right, he would say the coloring of the ship used to be a shade of red that had long since faded to an orange-yellow.
If there is name written along the side, it's too far or too faded for him to see it and there is no flag hanging.
Nothing about the ship was familiar. "No, I had no use for poorly tended vessels such as this," he said with mild disgust, only allowing for a brief moment of pity if it was indeed a long voyage that kept them from keeping the ship. He cant help feeling uncomfortable as his eyes traced the rigging, feeling oddly like they were being watched, yet when he looked at the crow's nest, it was empty.
He cleared his throat because while he doesn't see who might be watching them, he had nearly three centuries of life from trusting his gut and he wasn't about to go against the flow now. "Best move along then before one of them notice that we are here."
"We-"
Her phone rang before she could finish speaking, the shrill cry making them both flinch, and she fished it out of her pocket without extracting herself from his embrace. Which is impressive considering her phone was in the pocket pressed into his hip and she had to do a little and terribly cute wiggle to get it out. He didn't comment on said wiggle just then, but he did put it into a box of things labeled Swan.
For future reference, of course, not for any other reason. No sir, no way.
Killian Jones did not keep track of all the things his true love did that both surprised and endeared him. Nope, definitely not.
(Except he totally did).
(He wasn't going to tell anyone that).
...
...
As it turned out, there was someone watching them; three men sat below deck, peering out from a window that had seen better days, all drawn by what sounded like a fellow crewman's singing. That is, Emma's phone, but they didn't know what phones are at the time and could only assume that the awful noise was one of the two people standing on the docks, perhaps trying to hide but failing entirely.
A burly one with yellow hair resembling hay thumbed the sword hanging at his waist. He was the biggest of the group, his shoulders said to span the width of two men, and also the smartest, happening upon his role of Second Mate for quite relevant reasons. Of course, this meant that one of the other men, a tall, slim man who appeared to be missing a chunk of his nose and whose hair had mysteriously grown on only one side of his head waited for orders, as he was the stupidest and didn't quite know what to do without someone telling him.
Neither of them were allowed to speak though because the other man, average in just about every way from his height, to his weight, to the curve of his lips, his reddish hair the only unique thing about him, was the Captain. He wasn't the smartest, nor the biggest, or the oldest, or the wisest - but he knew how to make think he was all of those things and earned his rank of Captain for a reason.
They called him Redbeard for the beard that took up half his face and he was a very patient man, but like the other members of his crew, he had spent many months upon a restless sea and he only wished for a few minutes on dry land, something to eat that wasn't fish or stew, and rum.
Lots of rum.
They had run out a good few weeks ago, having to content themselves with water.
Redbeard liked water as much as the next person, but sometimes one needed something stronger. This happened to be one of those sometimes.
"We settin' off, Cap?" The man with only half a head of hair asked. They called him Orc, because it was either that or leave the ship since nobody thought that Mallory was a very fitting pirate name.
The burly one, who didn't speak either out of choice or because he knew little English, tilted his head, silently supporting the question. He had never told them his name so the crew had come to calling him Skip for his ability to fling a rock across the water twenty-one times - and also because he once flung good ole Tom into the water, where he bounced twice before sinking beneath the waves.
Of his eight crewmen still living, Orc and Skip were the only two who had awaited orders before leaving the ship, the rest of them fleeing the deck before they were even docked. Indeed, good ole Tom was probably only just reaching the shore after missing the dock entirely and landing in the water.
(Aside from surviving the trip, Tom didn't have much luck).
"Aye," Redbeard said, having spent a long time watching the man and the woman on the dock, trying to puzzle out the weird device the woman held to her ear. He scratched his beard, crossing the room and throwing open the hatch, where it banged against the deck of the ship, hobbling his way up the stairs. Skip went first, pulling Orc up by his wrist and only dropped him again when they were standing on the dock.
The man and the woman were gone.
...
...
Emma burst into the Rabbit Hole first, similar to Leroy's arrival at Granny's only forty minutes prior, something that Killian would notice later with some interest. He didn't just then because he was right behind her and thus narrowly avoided the door nailing him in the face from her forceful entry. Both their cheeks were red from their run, having sprinted from the docks to the bar without a break. He resolved to pick up jogging more often, finding that the stitch in his side was more painful than it ought to be.
Nobody noticed their entrance which wasn't entirely fair since he thought it was a fairly dramatic entrance that required some notice, but clearly everyone was distracted by the brawl taking place in the middle of the bar. One pirate with an eye-patch held another with no hair in a headlock while another wearing all green punched him in the gut. A man rose from his seat at a nearby table lifted an empty stool, raising it above his head and throwing it with all his might.
It was considerable might too because it bypassed the men entirely. Killian tightened his grip on her hip, jerking her into his arms and falling backwards as the stool crashed into the door where they were just standing. Unfortunately, a man just walking in took the blow and crumpled to the floor. He was largely unnoticed, at least for the moment as Killian lifted his hand to brush over her head, her neck, her back, her sides, checking for an injury.
Her fingers clutched the lapels of his jacket, surprise taking up half her face as she lifted herself up just enough to scan him as well, straddling his hips as she did so. He let his hand and hook rest on her hips. "Well, if you wanted me on my back, all you had to do was ask," he said softly, biting back his grin, only laughing when she scowled and helping her get up, well aware of their public location. "Up you go, lass."
"If you've got time to flirt then you're clearly alright," she said dryly, standing up on her own two feet. Another swear and another crash broke through the brief moment.
This time, he echoed her frown with one of his own, climbing to his feet with little difficult and striding across the room, grabbing the wrist of the man throwing stools tightly. "Enough," He said, not in a shout, but sharp enough that the men all froze in place. It wouldn't have worked quite so well with anyone else, few pirates were loyal to their own captain let alone to a random one they had never met, but he recognized the stance of these ones, the kind that heard authority in a voice and followed blindly.
"Let that one go," Emma ordered, pointing at the man still trapped in a headlock, who looked to be going an interesting shade of red from lack of air. The man holding him twitched, eyeing her speculatively, only following suit when she rested her hand on the gun at her hip, recognizing the threat. He released the other man, who spluttered and fell to his knees.
"There isn't enough room in the brig for all of them, Swan," he said, flinging the wrist away from him and absently scratching his scruff, taking a step away from the silent and frozen men. He looked around, trying to spot the
"Mm, true." She tilted her head, regarding the pirates with a wrinkled nose. "Where are the dwarves?"
"Right here, sister," said Leroy from the corner, supporting one of his brother's and struggling to his feet. Emma went over to help him up as he explained, "Sleepy took a nice hit before we realized what was happening. I'll go get him somewhere and let James- David- know. You two got 'em handled?"
They both looked over at the pirates, who were sitting around a table nursing drinks absently, grumbling under their breaths while Killian stood just a bit away, absently fiddling with his hook whenever one of them made a move as though to stand. She couldn't hear what they were saying, only a snippet of the conversation floating over them as the bar's regulars silently fled.
Dryly, she said, "I think we're fine, let David know that we're here, he might have to get the cells ready for... six people."
Leroy tilted his head in acknowledgment, shuffling to the door with Sleepy's arm slung around his shoulders, and disappearing outside with only mild complaints. Mostly when he had to step over the unconscious man, who was still largely forgotten.
She waited until the door shut behind him before heading back to Killian, sliding her hand into his with a small sigh. She nudged him with her shoulder. "Don't suppose you've figured out what to do with them, Captain?"
"None of them are the Captain," he said as a reply, fingers tightening around her own and pulling her some distance away for privacy, still staying in the men's line of sight.
She chewed on her lip. "Which is slightly more worrying than the brawling."
"My thoughts exactly," he agreed.
"Do you recognize any of them?"
A smile tugged at his lips. "Not in the slightest."
"Brilliant."
The door opened before they can continue, an average looking man with a mane of red hair entered, lingering over the man still slumped on the floor. "Good ole Tom, the poor sod," the man said with an accompanying eye roll, gesturing sharply down at him. "Orc, get him back to the ship."
"Aye, Cap," the man named Orc said with a look of longing at the bar before he crouched down, slinging Tom's arm around his shoulders, looking much too small under the other man's larger weight. Once more, the door opened and closed.
"I found the Captain," said Emma lightly, wincing as a beast of a man stepped inside after Orc left, having to duck his head slightly to avoid bashing it on his way in. He was like a taller, more muscular Tiny though she hoped he was a bit less resistant to magic if it came to that.
Thankfully, they didn't have to worry about that as the Captain heard something outside and directed Skip to help. As he left, the Captain noticed them. His eyes lit up when he spotted her, as most men did when suddenly looking into the face of stunning beauty, until he spotted Killian just beside her, his face draining of color in the split second it took him to recognize the hook.
"Well, have Skip hit me and call me Tom, if it ain't the dreaded Captain Hook!" He said with a faint accent. Then, because Skip had looked confused but obedient, he said, "Not really, Skip."
Skip grunted.
"Pardon? Who are you?" Killian said, looking warily at both of the men.
"Aye, I suppose you wouldn't know. Captain Redbeard of the Black Falcon." He swept into a bow, clearly more directed at Killian than it was directed at her, who had stiffened suddenly at the ship's name. "You have quite the reputation, Captain Hook. Tis an honor."
Killian cleared his throat. "Indeed, an honor to meet you, Captain Redbeard. I'm afraid though that this town is currently under my protection, I can't let your crew run rampant." Which was slightly true, he couldn't and wouldn't let this man, whoever he was behind that alias, run amok through the town. No need to let the man know that the dreaded Captain Hook hadn't done anything pirate-like in quite a while.
Why ruin his reputation when it was going to give them advantage?
He expected Redbeard to react, to say something wordy and polite to hide the fact that he disagreed, but the man merely nodded, waving his hand. "Aye, we want no trouble, just some time in port before we set off again, I don't fancy staying in this land any longer than I have to." His eyes were lingering distrustfully on the fan above their heads, twirling lazily.
"Captain! Ze run iz better than I recall!" One man announced from the table, holding his drink up in salute, the rest of the men following suit, calling their greetings.
Redbeard laughed, nodding, inclining his head. "Draw up a seat for yourself and your lady, Captain, I'll buy you a drink."
Emma, however, didn't respond as Redbeard headed for the bar, struck silent by the crewman's words. She grabbed Killian's arm before he could wander away, garnering a grunt as her nails dug into his arm even through his jacket. He glanced down, frowning at her, and she tilted her head, murmuring, "Did he just say run?"
"His accent is difficult to understand, but I do believe he was saying rum-" Killian stopped, his eyes widening. "Oh. You don't think..?"
She nodded, biting her lip to keep from laughing at the flabbergasted look on his face. "I think so."
"You're telling me when ran to the docks, then all the way here, then nearly got decapitated by a stool, because Leroy couldn't understand a bloody accent?"
"Yes."
"Thought they said run when they met rum, I can't bloody believe this," Killian muttered, shaking his head. "Well, best play nice, Swan, wouldn't want the pirates to change their minds." It was more sarcastic than he intended, the result of adrenaline dropping far quicker than normal, but she ignored it. Still snorting, she dropped into the seat next to him and drawing out her phone to send an update to her mother and father.
...
"And what do they say about me these days, lads?" Killian asked idly a few hours later while Redbeard slumped against the table in a drunken sleep after their competition.
"They say you 'ave a harem in three different lands," Orc announced, to cheers from the rest of the pirates while Killian pretended to be unaffected. His eyes and ears betrayed him, the former flickering to look at an amused Emma and the tips of his ears turning pink.
"Afraid not," he answered.
Another man piped in. "That you once made a man jump off the ship with just a look."
"True," he admitted, although the whole thing was more complicated.
"That you fought the dark one and won."
He tensed slightly, his default reaction when the crocodile was brought up. "Hmm," he said as a reply, not particularly want to try and explain that situation. It was neither a victory nor a loss so he couldn't say he won - at the very least, he had survived and found something else, something better than the half-life he had been living before.
He drew her hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to her palm. Indeed, something much better, something that he didn't know if he was worthy for, but selfish enough to want anyway.
His movement didn't go unnoticed. Skip made a noise, twisting his large hand to communicate with the crew, drawing a bawdy laugh from the group.
"What?" Emma asked, narrowing her eyes at the larger man. Pirates, after all, weren't known for their politeness and while Skip could most definitely launch her clear across the harbor, she wasn't going to let him insult one of them to her face.
"Skip 'ere remembers another tale, that your butt is so divine that even if a woman could resist you, they couldn't resist that," Orc said, sniggering.
Killian made a noise, shifting in his seat, biting his lip hard to keep from laughing. "Well," he said slowly, his eyes betraying him once more as they flickered to Emma and she knew what was coming before he finished speaking. "I noticed you lingered behind me quite a bit on the beanstalk, darling."
She punched his shoulder as everyone dissolved into laughter. This time, she was the one betrayed, her lips twitching, unnoticed by everyone except him. He resolved to ask her if it was true later.
(It is).
...
...
Many hours later, they walked up the steps to their house, the cool air pushing away the lingering effects of the alcohol. Emma snorted as he sung at a sailor's tune in her ear, arms wrapped around her waist, making it increasingly difficult to find the right key to open the door to their house, which was much closer than trying to walk back to her parents or his ship. He paused between words, pressing light kisses to her neck, and she shivered when the song fell to a whisper, his lips brushing her skin with every word.
"Stop, I'm trying to concentrate," she mumbled, deciding right then that she wouldn't touch coconut rum again in her life as her hand shook while putting the key in. Even though she thought the shaking was more the results of his presence much too close to her than the coconut rum she had stolen from him two hours ago.
He laughed, steadying her hand and throwing the door open easily.
Before she could make a move into the room, he grabbed her, lifting her up into his arms bridal style. She shrieked, grabbing his shoulders and ducking into his chest as he stepped over the threshold. "Why'd you do that?"
"If there's a chance to sweep you off your feet, dear Swan, then I shall always take it," he laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair as he set her back down on her feet. He didn't let her move far, his arm wrapping around her waist and his chin dropping onto her hair, neither moving from the foyer as the evening's activities faded, leading behind a startling sobriety. Nobody had been in this house in ages, certainly not them, and it brought back memories, none of them particularly good.
Well, except one.
One from a time sitting in the forest, kissing as a flame flickered to life, as they promised a future that kept ending before their eyes. They hadn't talked about it since then, despite the fact that she often fell asleep curled up in his arms.
"Still want a future with me?" He asked quietly. She shuffled against him, spinning around in his embrace to face him, head tilted up, a fire in her eyes that he recognized quite well.
He could see the retort building on her lips, but either she saw something on his face or sensed the way this house brought up questions and memories that neither wanted to face because she sighed. Her lips curved up in a smile, small but genuine, hand rising up his chest to cup his face, drawing his face closer to hers, their noses brushing together.
A hairbreadth away, she stopped, using words that they both knew needed to be said aloud rather than inferred. "Yes." When she kissed him, everything else washed away except for the feel of her lips as they parted beneath his, her hand snaking up to curl into his hair, pouring everything into the kiss that they knew but hadn't confirmed since that day in the forest.
He drew her closer, feeling heat creep up his spine, his tongue swiping across her lip, drawing hers out, a groan building in his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and his arms crossed around her back, lifting her into his arms without breaking the kiss, stumbling their way upstairs, pointedly leaving their phones behind.
Storybrooke could handle itself for a few hours.
Hopefully.