A/N: Hey all! I am back with another chapter of 'Some Call it Magic' and it's a good one if I do say so myself. It includes more meddling Henry, some much needed CS interaction, and it also includes the start of Killian's curiosity about Storybrooke and Emma herself. Many of you have asked when he will start to pick up on the magic, and these are the first steps of that happening. No worries though people, I always stay with the fluff and this story will be no exception. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!
The myth of weekends being designed for relaxation was one obviously created by a person without children.
Honestly in Emma's experience, weekends were often the busiest time of her week. Though she hung up her work apron at the door on Friday evening (not to return for longer than an hour so on Saturdays or Sundays just to check in), she got to slip into a different responsibility landscape, the one of full-time Mom, housekeeper, cook, and cruise director for both her and Henry. That shift was often tiring and energy consuming, and most weekend nights Emma crashed even harder at the end of the day than she did on the craziest ones at the café, but even with that being the case, Emma loved her time at home and with her kid. Weekends might not often be calming, but they were valuable, and Emma wouldn't trade these moments with Henry for anything.
Emma was lucky in so many ways, mostly because her son was so self-sufficient and truly well behaved. Henry knew it was a lot for Emma to juggle everything on her own. He'd had an understanding of her being a single parent since he was just a little boy, and he was patient when a lot of other ten year olds wouldn't be, but he was also a handful. Her greatest blessing or not, Henry was excitable and spirited and sometimes that created moments of tension or conflict for Emma.
"Hey Mom?!" Henry yelled through the door of the bathroom where Emma was getting ready to grab a quick shower. She'd set him up with breakfast and the TV remote to tide him over for just a half an hour or so, but not even two minutes had gone by and she was already being beckoned for something.
"Yeah kid?" she replied.
"Do you know where the shovel is?" He asked. His tone was light and airy, but also a little suspicious, as if Henry was being too consciously polite for him to not be up to something. Emma's warning bells sounded immediately in the back of her mind. A shovel? Why did Henry need a shovel?
"Did you check the garage, by the ladder and the hose?"
Too late Emma realized it might not actually be the best thing to tell Henry where he could find the shovel in question. Now would be the moment to tell him to hold his horses and that she'd help him with whatever idea he had when she was done, but she'd only managed one cup of coffee this morning and she was off her game. She was just about to retract that statement and tell him to press the pause button when Henry giddily replied and essentially dismissed her.
"Nope, I'll check there thanks, Mom!"
With that and no other context he was off, racing down the stairs and Emma was left there sighing, knowing that this was about to be the quickest shower ever thanks to her new worries about what her kid might be getting up to.
Emma raced through everything in barely ten minutes, got dressed, and pulled her hair back, not giving a damn about how she looked or anything like that when she was worried about Henry. All she could think was that he'd come up with some crazy idea to build a mote or something around their house, or that he'd try to make improvements to the garden that could be a disaster. As it was she was barely keeping that jungle in check thanks to those dreams that she was still having about Killian, and there were a number of enchantments and charms she didn't want Henry to have to mess with without her. But when she finally got outside, Emma was shocked to find that Henry wasn't using the shovel in their yard at all. It was way worse, because at this moment Henry was digging up an entire chunk of Killian's lawn and tearing up grass that would be impossible for her to replace speedily without giving away her magic to their friendly, charming neighbor.
"Henry, what are you doing?!" Emma asked, barely containing any of her shock or horror at this. Only when Henry turned back around, however, did Emma notice that he wasn't alone. Killian was actually with Henry and he didn't have a look of anger or anything on his face at all. He only had surprise at her being there, and then a genuine smile at her appearance.
"Helping Killian make a garden of his own. His house is sad. It needs more color."
Oh great, so not only was Henry probably forcing his ideals on Killian right now, but he was also tossing around some insults about the home that Killian had just purchased for himself. Emma didn't really know what to say, and she hadn't come up with anything as she crossed the lawn to come closer to them, but Killian had taken it upon himself to step in and assure her, crossing the rest of the space that was left between them until he was close enough for her to touch, or pull close, or…
Pull it together, Emma. Now isn't the time to fantasize about the neighbor.
"I apologize love, but I mentioned to Henry that I was going to try and do something with the space back here a few days ago. I even got all the supplies that the greenhouse in town said I would need, but I forgot a larger shovel and using the little trowel was… well let's say less than ideal."
Emma tamped down an immediate thought that with that accent of his and the charming, endearing manner, Killian could make anything seem ideal, because it was totally inappropriate for her to be thinking that way right now. Honestly she was completely infuriated with her own inability to keep her cool around this guy, but she prayed that on the outside she didn't appear as flustered as she felt internally.
"So this was your idea?" Emma asked, clarifying and feeling the waves of relief washing over her as Killian's blue eyes remained kind and sincere.
There was no sign in Killian's expression that he was feeling put out by Henry, but Emma did worry. She didn't really have any experience with new neighbors, not since she and Henry had moved to town, and Henry had always been a little more cognoscente of boundaries in those exchanges. Those boundaries seemed to be missing with Killian though, and Emma felt all the more cautious because of it. The last thing she wanted was Henry to get too attached or to read too much into their ties to Killian. They might live fifty yards away from each other, but that didn't mean he had to be a part of their lives if he didn't want to be. Yet the thought that Killian wouldn't be there sent a pang through Emma that she neither wanted to analyze right now, nor could indulge for longer than a second.
"Aye, Swan. I took one look at the perfection you've crafted over there, and though I've no hopes of matching it, I couldn't bear to think I'm depriving the neighborhood of anything."
Emma willed herself not to blush at the compliment, and though it was on the tip of her tongue to dig for more praise about her garden and her house, she didn't. Most people called her and Henry's home 'eclectic.' Colorful was putting it mildly, and all the little knickknacks and everything they had outside had largely been of Henry's choice, but for Killian to stand here and say that he liked it, and for there not be even a trace of deception in his eyes meant something to her. That house, unusual and unexpected as it was, was a part of Emma's story, and whether she'd meant it to or not, it reflected a lot not just about her son, but of her personality too. This was the kind of home she'd wanted as a girl, and now that she had a place to call home and had found her family in Henry, she'd tried to make that for the two of them to the best of her ability.
"No one expects you to do this, Killian. I hope you don't feel like anyone's pressured you to become a landscaper overnight or anything…"
The rest of her words trailed off, not because Emma didn't honestly believe them, but because at that moment Killian stepped forward again, closing some more space between them, and took her hand. It was a level of intimacy that Emma hadn't expected, but the reaction her body had to his at the first touch of his hand on hers was too overpowering to ignore. She felt lighter, brighter, and still somehow her whole person was riddled with energy and butterflies. It was perplexing and yet so desirable all at once. Emma felt scattered in a hundred directions and totally centered at the same time, like she'd just been waiting for a chance to have this man's hand in hers. Like it was somehow part of her destiny.
This was the first time she and Killian had ever touched now that she thought about it. They'd never so much as shared a handshake in introduction, but on some level this felt like a kind of sensory memory. Emma was entirely sure that she'd never known an instant response like this to anyone in the whole of her life, but the more muted parts of her dreams from the past few months jumped to the forefront of her mind. That safety and simultaneous elation that she'd been feeling when tucked into her fantasies at night were heightened now and Emma was speechless, affected in a way she'd never intended to be with anyone.
"The motive for my new attempt at a green thumb is simple, Swan," Killian started with a newly added element of gravel in his tone. "I saw the little oasis you and Henry have created and I thought I might like to have a part of that too."
Emma's eyes flew back from where their hands were connected up to Killian again and ignoring how handsome he was in this moment of earnest reassurance wasn't an option. If she'd been less enthralled by him, she might have been listening to those nagging instincts in the back of her mind that said not to let any man get too close, but for a moment longer she let herself just hear what he'd said and pretend it could mean more than it had. Though he was talking about gardening, it almost felt like he meant being a part of their world over all, and Emma liked the sound of that more than she should.
"You could help us if you want, Mom," Henry offered, and only then did Emma really come back to herself.
She looked to her son's wide grin and his clear appreciation for Emma and Killian being as close as they were, and that was when the panic set in again. It was irrational, but Emma couldn't give Henry hope when she didn't actually know the score herself. Emma was so consumed by the sudden arrival of their new neighbor and the cascade of emotions he inspired that she hadn't even had a chance to figure out exactly what she was feeling or whether this whole thing was a good idea.
Her past told her it was the makings of a full blown disaster, but the continued warmth and understanding in Killian's eyes, even when she pulled her hand back and began to make her retreat, sparked something in Emma. Maybe Killian was different. Maybe he wouldn't care about the baggage and the hesitations and the whole magic thing. But that wasn't something for her to figure out right now. Right now she needed space and a chance to clear her head.
"Wish I could kid, but some of us still have chores to do."
Emma noticed the slight pout that came to Henry's face and part of her felt bad for not indulging him, but it was more important for her to draw the lines in the sand now. Giving him false hope or letting Henry build up a relationship that didn't actually exist between her and Killian yet was dangerous and she just couldn't let that happen. To avoid the look of disappointment on Henry's face she looked back to Killian and vocalized her major concern.
"I know Henry can be persuasive, but are you sure you want the help? This kid can talk with the best of them." That last part she said teasingly, knowing that to the people she loved and trusted and had let into her life, Henry's chatter was always welcome. Anyone who didn't like it was someone Emma didn't need in her life anyway, but Henry didn't realize the full depth of that when he replied.
"Hey!" Henry said, feigning insult. She shot Henry a soft smile and he warmed to her again in an instant, looking to Killian who responded as convincingly as anyone could.
"I'm grateful for any assistance I can get, and with Henry's aid I'm confident I can get something passable conjured in no time."
Emma's mind faltered on the choice of wording. 'Conjuring' was often magically associated, at least in her experience, and she gave one last look at Killian, searching for some kind of sign. She wasn't stupid after all, and there was a risk that even though she'd tried to keep her more magical inclinations in check that he might have noticed her or something else in town, but there was nothing behind his eyes other than an easy affection and this hint that underneath the gentlemanly neighborliness was a fire she wanted to embrace like nothing else.
"Well alright then. I'll be inside if you guys need me, okay?"
Both Killian and Henry agreed and Emma moved back to the house, only stealing one more glance at the two of them as she hovered on the back porch. They'd already dived right into things, and Henry was dishing out instructions that Emma could hear but barely. And even though she still had that niggling voice of doubt in the back of her mind that this was a bad idea, Emma couldn't help but smile. The two of them looked good out there together figuring out a problem, and maybe if things were different Emma would be out there with them too, enjoying the sunlight and the crisp fall air as they were.
Instead Emma decided to distract herself as best as she could. She started with getting some cleaning done and only after noticing the date on the calendar in the kitchen did she realize she was due for some magical cleanup too. She wasn't particularly worried about spirits or ghosts like people were in the movies, but there were some things she could do to keep the aura in here as light and positive as she wanted. Emma went through the steps of burning incense in each room and marking them the way she needed with care and delicacy.
In all her years in Storybrooke, Emma couldn't recall ever doing this so quietly, but she was hyperaware of the fact that this wasn't strictly normal given the closeness of her magically-unaware neighbor. Maybe she could play it off as a new-age fad if Killian ended up seeing her but if he was smart it would raise suspicions, and Emma had to believe that he was smart after the past week of getting to know him a little more each day.
For one thing he always had a book in hand and it was a different one each time she saw him. Emma had also noticed that he got not one, but four national papers delivered to his house each day, and Emma honestly hadn't realized that was even a possibility this far away from the city. They got the Storybrooke Gazette when it came once a month (because every resident got a copy, no matter if they wanted to or now), but Killian was aware of the world outside in a way Emma wasn't. She was informed, sure, but her life was here, and Storybrooke was where she liked to focus her energy and thoughts since it had been the one place she'd ever been that provided her with a sense of safety and belonging.
But there was more to Killian that she'd gathered too. Like how he'd been sharp enough to pick up on some town dynamics in under a week. Emma had seen him give deference where it needed to be given (particularly to the old ladies in town who fancied themselves unofficial guardians of Storybrooke) and which people represented potential pitfalls (like the gossipy guys who frequented Granny's diner and the few families who always had some feud or other going). Killian was clearly very aware, and that wit and charm she'd witnessed first hand were thrown around town in spades, but Emma couldn't help but feel like it was different when it was directed at her.
There was just something about the way his voice dipped slightly lower when his attention was fixed her way, and how Killian looked at her as if he could read the thoughts she worked so hard to keep covert. It was a sensation she'd expected to lessen over time, but it had been quite the opposite and instead Emma felt more and more on display to her new neighbor as the days wore on. He was getting closer and at the same time he was proving himself to be genuinely kind and caring. He was good with Henry and patient towards her continuously meddling friends, but could she trust him?
The sudden blaring ring of the telephone almost gave Emma a heart attack and she physically jumped at the sound at the same time that a light bulb in the room shattered. Shit! Her magic was too close to the surface recently, and now a harmless ringing was enough to set her off. This was not good.
Ignoring the shattered glass for a second, Emma ran to the kitchen to grab the phone. She didn't bother to hide her distraction as she answered though, and her eyes moved automatically through the window where in the distance she could still see Killian and Henry working.
"Hello?"
"Emma it's me." The 'me' in question was Mary Margaret, but Emma didn't even have time to truly greet her friend before she launched into why she'd called. "I need your help. David's almost out of the antidote he has for foxglove poisoning and there have already been a few dogs in today with symptoms. We have enough for now but if any more come in we won't be able to treat them."
"Any idea how they came in contact?" Emma asked, not liking the idea of any animal getting sick, and hoping she could find a way to help as she cleaned up the last of the broken bulb and discarded it in the trash.
"There was some in the dog park. We got rid of it all when the first case came in, but since the park staff had the last few weeks off, no one noticed."
Well that was a relief at least, but Emma was still slightly confused as to why Mary Margaret was asking her. Usually when it came to healing through a potion or otherwise the first person any of them went to was Elsa. That was her surest gift with people and with animals, and while Emma could hold her own, it would never be second nature like it was to her friend.
"Did you try Els?" Emma asked, even as she moved to one of the shelves and pulled down one of her spell books that she'd written up on her own years ago with the help of her friends and some of the other magically inclined people in town.
"She's down in Boston for that conference."
"Oh right," Emma said, flipping to a page with something she thought would help. It was a magical antitoxin so to speak, and though she'd never had cause to make this draught before, it should work well if she got all the ingredients she needed. "Well I'll get right on it. Shouldn't take too long. Maybe a half an hour?"
"You're a life saver, Emma. Literally."
Emma shook her head even as she smiled, and then she said goodbye to Mary Margaret and promised to get there soon. When the call was ended, Emma gathered everything she needed from her special non-food related pantry on the counter and looked out the far window again to make sure that Killian and Henry were right where they'd left them. They were, thankfully, and Emma dove in, reading through the instructions and taking care to follow every step precisely as she mixed them together. Magic required a lot of concentration and following exact steps and Emma had always been good at that, shutting out her surroundings to give herself totally the process when the time called for it.
However, right before she was about to add the final ingredient ten minutes later, Henry's laugh wafted through the window and caught Emma's attention. She looked outside and noticed that he and Killian were far closer than they'd just been, and headed this way. Not only that but from this distance, Emma had a far better look at how hard Killian had actually been working, and when he moved to wipe his face clean of any sweat and dirt with the bottom of his shirt, Emma froze totally caught by the sight of the body that was underneath that t-shirt all day.
"Holy -," Before Emma could finish that thought a loud boom sounded and a giant puff of billowing silvery-blue smoke billowed out of the pot she'd been using. She'd intended to use a soundproofing spell to keep anyone from hearing that, but she'd gotten so distracted and now the whole neighborhood had probably heard. "Crap!"
"Mom?!" Henry yelled, clearly hearing the loud, unexplained bang at the same time Killian called out, "Emma!"
Shit!
…..
The feeling racking Killian's body at the moment when he heard the loud booming sound from Emma's house was nothing short of immense panic, and his first instinct was to get to her. A sound that loud couldn't be good and Emma was still in that house, potentially at risk or hurt or worse. His second instinct overtook him, however, and he grabbed Henry before the lad could sprint into a potentially dangerous situation.
"Henry, wait! I've got her, but you need to stay right here. You got it?"
Henry looked worried and like he might run to save his Mom regardless of the instructions, but he stopped and gave a shaky nod and Killian nodded back before sprinting towards the back door that Emma stepped out coughing. They ran right into each other, and though Killian could have stepped back from her, he didn't enjoying the feeling that Emma was in his arms, and rejoicing in the fact that she was okay.
"Emma, are you alright?"
His voice was charged with emotion and came out sounding more like a brogue than it usually did, but it couldn't be helped. He was dueling too incredibly strong currents of feeling. On the one hand he was still coming down from that peak of fear that Emma was in danger, but on the other he felt more alive than ever before. Holding her like this, having his hands on her even if the situation was unusual was a godsend.
He'd felt this same zap of an electrifying current when he reached for her hand this morning in the garden, but right now, with her flush against him and her chest heaving for breath as her body gave a slight shiver at the contact, Killian was in a daze. This sensation was heady and intoxicating and he never wanted to move away from it. Emma took up every bit of his senses, and he took in the hint of lavender and vanilla that clung to her right now, surprised that she could smell this sweet when he'd expected some kind of fire or explosion inside the house. When she bit her lip, Killian had a want to do that too and then kiss it better, but he held back, needing more than anything to know she was okay.
"Yeah, sorry. I was… trying a new recipe and somehow managed to mess it up. Sorry for all the noise though. Everything's fine."
Killian didn't know how he was so certain, but he felt like Emma was speaking in half-truths right now. She hadn't flat out lied, but there was more to the story, and though he didn't want to look away from those beautiful green eyes of hers, he did, seeing what looked like some lingering smoke through the kitchen window. He couldn't really tell since the lights were off inside but it seemed to be a strange color, and then just as soon as it was there it was gone, and Killian was left wondering what was real and what was a figment of his imagination.
"Killian?" Emma said quietly, bringing his eyes back to hers, and finally he felt like he could breathe again. She was actually all right, and whatever had happened, that was the most important thing. "I'm fine, really."
The tremble in Emma's voice pierced through everything else in this moment, and he didn't know what had caused it. Maybe she'd been frightened when the sound went off, or maybe, as he was guessing from the look in her eyes, she was a little scared of him. He felt like he was getting close to something, or some things really, things that hadn't added up as the week went on, but whatever Emma was hiding, Killian didn't care. The only thing he could think was that he wanted to comfort her, and that he wanted that light in her eyes that he'd seen this morning when they were joking together back.
"Forgive me, love," he said, his hand coming up so his thumb could brush away a slight smudge on her cheek. "I just didn't realize I was living next to a mad scientist. Are you given to such experiments in the kitchen very often?" Emma smiled at that, and shook her head, the tension in her shoulders lessening as she did.
"Not exactly," Emma replied, causing Killian to smile too as the sound of smaller footsteps up the porch steps sounded out around them. Immediately Killian moved back, not wanting to crowd Emma when her son was in need of her, or to upset Henry who would no doubt need consolation.
"Mom?" Henry asked, running up the porch and glomming onto her with a huge hug. It was heart warming to see, a reuniting between mother and son, even if it had been a false alarm, and Killian noticed the way Emma's eyes got a little misty at Henry's intensity. She clearly didn't like that she'd worried him, and that protective instinct that she carried with her rushed to the surface as she ran her hand through his hair soothingly.
"Hey kid, sorry I scared you."
"That's okay. Killian helped a lot," Henry said as he pulled back from the hug and smiled at Killian. "He was super brave."
"Is that right?" Emma asked, looking back at Killian with a bit of humor in her jade colored eyes that shot straight to Killian's core. He'd be whatever the heck Emma Swan wanted, as long as he could be on the receiving end of that look forever.
"Yup. I think we should invite him to dinner to say thank you," Henry insisted.
Wow that kid was smooth, and if Killian wasn't so busy trying to play it cool and not give away just how excited he was at the prospect of a dinner with Emma and her son, he would have applauded him. As it was, Henry had spent most of the past few hours not only talking to Killian about Storybrooke and his life with school and his friends, but about Emma too.
Killian had learned a lot, and he'd grown more secure in the little bit of attempted matchmaking on Henry's part. The lad might be young, but his plan was relatively clear: he wanted his Mum to have her chance at love, and for whatever reason he seemed to think Killian a good candidate for that role. Not that Killian resented that. In fact he was all too eager to take on the part despite knowing Emma for so short a time.
Killian saw the slight bit of hesitation on Emma's part, but he had this real and true need for her not to deflect from this proposition. Perhaps it was selfish, but he didn't want his time to be over with Emma or her son today. In fact, this had been the best weekend he'd had in a very long time simply because of how much time he'd gotten to be with them. He could only imagine how good it would feel to have more time in an even more tangible way.
"Actually lad, I was hoping to invite you two to my house tonight. See I haven't gotten the chance to invite anyone over yet, and I think Luna's a bit lonely."
Luna was the name of his new feline companion and her celestially inspired moniker was courtesy of Henry's insistence. After a few days of just speaking at the little fur ball casually instead of giving her a real name, Killian asked for some advice and Henry had gone on and on about moon cycles and the lunar calendar having all sorts of power. Then when he saw Killian's genuine curiosity at his knowing so much about the moon, Henry ended his factual monologue with a final Harry Potter endorsement and Killian was sold. It was of no real matter to him in the end, after all, but to Henry that gesture had been huge and very well received.
"Can we go Mom? Please?" Henry asked, and both Henry and Killian looked to Emma who was considering the prospect of a night with him.
"You sure we wouldn't be putting you out?" Emma asked and Killian shook his head immediately.
"I can think of few things I'd rather do than share a meal with the Swans, love. Seems a guarantee for a night well spent."
At his words Emma's cheeks turned a little pink, and though he tried to hide his body's natural response to that, it was hard. Killian loved the way her creamy skin sometimes gave her thoughts away like that, and he wanted to see that blush deeper and further across her skin. Yet now was neither the time nor place to explore those wishes, and Killian was aware that he still had a ways to go in convincing the entrancing woman next door that he was worth putting her trust in.
"Then yes, we'd love to come," Emma said, sending Henry into an excited tizzy as he came to high five Killian. "But…" Emma said to Henry in particular. "I have to get something over to Mary Margaret and David and then stop by the café right now, so why don't you get cleaned up and then we'll head out to do that?"
Henry didn't waste any time in running inside to adhere to his mother's wishes, and Killian and Emma both watched him go. Killian had to smile at the boy's enthusiasm, and he only hoped he could manage to make a night fun enough to actually keep Henry entertained. Come to think of it, he had a number of things to do seeing as he wasn't really a chef by any stretch of the imagination, and that he still had quite a few furnishings missing from his humble abode.
"So we'll see you tonight then?" Emma asked, pulling Killian back from the new worries that had sprung from his possibly over eager invitation, and when his eyes came back to see a hopeful looking Emma he was calmed once more. Whatever he had to do to get his affairs in order for this evening he would gladly do to make sure it was a good night for all of them.
"See you tonight, Swan."
Watching Emma head back into her house, Killian lingered for just a moment before returning home once more. The last of the gardening supplies were still outside, and he tried to get them all put away as quickly as he could so as to get on to what really needed doing. He had a new mission to pursue and it involved getting this place (and himself) ready for the dinner he'd just offered to host with little to no time in advance.
Hours, five or six at most, were all that he had to get this right, but despite the time crunch Killian felt good about this. It was a similar high to the ones he had caught in the early days of his writing, when there were deadlines to get to and serious cases that needed solving. Back in New York he'd worked oftentimes with the police, scouting sources and cultivating people who knew those streets and the big players in every neighborhood and borough, and the best cases were the ones where he actually helped. If the bad guys went away for what they did and the victims and their families of a crime got some kind of justice that was all Killian could ask for. Yet it had been a long time since he got any kind of thrill out of what he did. A sense of completing his duty, yes, but the passion he'd once held dear had faded a long time ago.
Having it back now and in such a different set of circumstances might have worried a less convinced man, but Killian was certain that this path he was on, the one that led to Emma and Henry, was the one he was meant to find. The only question was what lay underneath the surface. For there was something going on there, and something going on in the town of Storybrooke over all that Killian had yet to put his finger on but was getting closer to every day.
The search for those answers was one Killian had taken on with vigor almost since the moment he arrived in town. Having little else to do other than try his hand at a novel or reading, some of Killian's older instincts returned and he was starting to take note of everything around him. They might seem like minor occurrences to anyone else, but for Killian it was all just a little too out of the ordinary. He had a little notebook dedicated to those moments too, with bullets listed about strangely ever present blue birds, strange riddles some of the townspeople spoke in, and weather trends that sparked at strange intervals and didn't turn up on Doppler radars for no apparent reason.
None of what he'd seen so far, however, scared him (not even the moment he swore he saw a black wolf, or at very least a very large dog at the tree line of the Storybrooke forest a few nights ago), but Killian wanted some kind of answer. He hated to feel he was going mad or seeing things that weren't happening, so he'd snooped a little more in the hopes of validating his intuitive feelings.
That was how he'd found himself a few days back in the archives of the small town hall at the center of Storybrooke, looking up old records and copies of the Storybrooke Gazette. He wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for, but what he'd found was interesting. There were a number of stories that in any other town would have seemed fantastical or amazing. Over the last few decades there were more than a few accidents listed that never seemed to result in serious injury, and natural disasters that the town always weathered or avoided completely, even when surrounding areas had been hit hard with flooding or wind damage. But even more curious was the fact that the people writing these stories never dug any deeper. No one ever asked the survivors or witnesses throughout the years for details on their amazing escapes or the good fortune of this town on the whole, or if they had, nothing ever seemed to make its way to print.
Eventually Killian had found something else to draw his attention though – the town charter. Now, Killian wasn't a local historian, and perhaps there was a chance that many towns from this part of the world and established at around the same time had professed similar goals when creating their little hamlets, but the terms and the wording, even given the style hundreds of years ago was curious. The founders talked about Storybrooke being a 'sacred haven' and there were many mention of 'gifts,' all of which were welcome. There was no mention of occupations or ideologies, but talents and skills and 'forces' Killian didn't really get were listed a plenty. It was strange to Killian, but also not a bad ideal to build a community on. Really, when he thought about it, it was a totally inclusive piece of paper, and something, arguably for the whole town to be proud of despite the peculiar way it was stated.
"So I hear you've got company coming over tonight. My invite must have gotten lost in the mail."
The teasing words came Killian's way as he stepped onto the main road en route to the store, and Killian knew even before he looked up to meet the speaker's eye that it was David. Killian had run into the man a number of times so far this week, and each encounter had been a pleasant one. Based on the jest in the man's voice, Killian also believed there was a chance they might one day be actual friends. Now Killian just had to figure out how to tell him in a kind way that there wasn't a chance in hell he was inviting him. This was a dinner he'd wanted for a while, and adding more people to the party would just give Emma the chance to hide from him more, which he didn't want in the slightest.
"Don't worry, I already got an earful from Henry when I made that joke. It's Swans only tonight."
Killian knew what David meant, that just Emma and Henry would be his guests this evening, but for some reason his heart and mind jumped on the idea that whatever their last name, the three of them might be a unit. It was probably mental, and more than a little early for him to be thinking that way, but he couldn't help it. All Killian could do was keep that little tidbit to himself and try to respond to David as best he could.
"You seem awfully interested in my house guests, mate."
"Oh I am. Mary Margaret's in the best mood because of it, and when my wife is happy, I'm happy."
Happy was one word for it but smug was another. David was downright delighted at this turn of events (no doubt because he'd been bringing up Killian asking Emma out for days now) and when Killian moved to scratch his ear in an old nervous habit, David noticed it, laughing aloud with nothing but good humor coming through in the sound.
"There's just one thing I can't quite figure out," David quipped.
"And what's that?" Killian asked, expecting some more thinly veiled interrogation about his intentions with Emma.
"Aren't you the same guy that told me not two days ago you don't know how to cook?"
"Aye. So it should be an interesting night to say the least."
The confession on Killian's part set David to chuckling again and eventually Killian joined in. After all, if he couldn't laugh at himself, what kind of man was he? He wasn't too proud to admit he might have bitten off a bit more than he could chew with this, but he fully intended to rise to the challenge and he'd brought the cookbook Liam purchased for him years ago that he never opened as a guide. Hopefully somewhere in here he'd find something to make that was edible for this evening.
"Should be. Well I'll let you get to it then," David said, nodding as a means of goodbye and turning around, but before he could get to far Killian called out to him again.
"Hey Dave?" David turned around still smiling, but he sobered some when he saw Killian, no doubt picking up on the loaded nature of what he was about to say.
"Yeah?"
"You mentioned there being a time when I'd have some uh… questions about Storybrooke." Well that was clunky, but it was also as delicate as Killian could be. Instantly recognition colored David's expression and he nodded.
"I did, yeah. You ready to ask them yet?" David asked, the query vague but hinting that he didn't think Killian was a mad man for thinking something was up in this town. That in itself was kind of a relief to be honest.
"I think I might be getting there."
"Well when you're sure, call me. We'll get a drink and I'll answer what I can."
"Right. Thanks," Killian said, feeling like he'd get to that point rather soon if things continued like this much longer.
"Just out of curiosity, what's your gut telling you?" David asked.
His gut? His gut was telling Killian that this was home or at the very least it was the closest he'd ever come to home since he was a small boy. Despite the signs that something might be different about this town, Killian didn't feel anything bad about the place. In fact he admired it, feeling a connection to it the more time he spent here. These questions and this research? They were all just his curiosity coming out to play, and it he were truly honest a part of that circled back to Emma. For some reason Killian felt like it was connected, like if he figured out Storybrooke, he might figure out the woman who lived here who was already taking up far too much room in his heart to be normal. But he didn't expect to find something bad. He just wanted a clearer picture and to know all of Emma no matter what lay beneath the surface.
"To stay, and that whatever it is it's not bad just..."
"Special?" David filled in, reminding him of their first conversation.
"Aye."
David grinned at that and tilted his head slightly, signaling to Killian that the man had some private thoughts about that answer, but it was the truth. Killian had no intention of leaving Storybrooke, not when he'd found so many things here to bind him already. And it was a special place, one he wanted a better understanding of so he could appreciate it more and let go of this feeling that he was missing something, which would always be just a tad bit unsettling.
"Good luck on dinner man. And don't get yourself too worked up. Worst case you go simple and make grilled cheese. Emma loves grilled cheese."
"Thanks for the tip," Killian replied as David set off with a wave and moved down the street. And with that, Killian set forth himself, largely letting go of those questions he'd been having and focusing instead on creating the night that he hoped for for two people who he desperately wanted to see happy.
Post-Note: The thing that gets me every time I'm at the start of the story is that it feels like a slow burn even when it isn't really. Four chapters in and I am already anxiously awaiting some actual quality CS alone time, but they tell me patience is a virtue and I'm choosing to believe them. Anyway, next chapter will be bringing the dinner that Emma and Henry are going to at Killian's. I anticipate much cuteness and fluff (as per usual). I also managed to come up with some more chapters in this outline and I am happy to announce that there should be at least ten chapters of this fun little story by the end of the road. I hope you guys enjoyed and thank you all so much for reading!
