AN: Sorry a million times over for the delay in updates. It's the curse of wanting it to be just right (and writing too many MC at once), and dependent on such great input from my wonderful beta KG and thanks to Lena too for chiming in.
I'd welcome any suggestions of what you might like to see happen the rest of their adventure to the coast. Any tidbits you'd like? Send them along in your review!
"Come on Swan, out of the car!"
Emma was jarred awake from her nap by Killian's voice. Her mouth was dry and her stomach growled as she pried her eyes open to take in their location.
"Let's go!" he prompted as he sprang from behind the wheel and jogged around the vehicle. On his second lap around the car he stopped, yanked her door open, and dragged her out into the chilly air to prompt her own loop around the Volvo.
"Where the hell are we?" she got her feet moving to try and keep up with his brisk pace.
"A rest stop," he brushed by her elbow as he lapped her. "Moving around outside helps keep you on your toes. And it's your turn for driving duties," he tossed over his shoulder as he slid into the passenger seat.
She grumbled under her breath as she jogged to the driver's side and slipped behind the wheel. But she had to admit, she did feel refreshed after their impromptu chinese fire drill and it did help break up the monotony of Nebraska. She pulled back onto the highway after glancing at the time on her phone. She'd only napped for half an hour.
Emma's mind wandered as the miles dragged by. She tried to keep thoughts from drifting towards her copilot, but it was hard to ignore him. Killian shifted next to her and drummed his fingers on his leg.
How does he manage to seem so at ease? Does he go through life with no apparent plan? He certainly didn't seem to take their writing class very seriously.
Her quiet musing was interrupted when she noticed his blue eyes locked on face.
"You're staring," she glanced sideways at him. Why is he staring? How am I supposed to pay attention to the road with those baby blues focused on me?
He shrugged his shoulders. "Just wondering Swan, any grand plans when you arrive?"
Emma had spent time looking at websites to make a list of what she wanted to see. "Well I was hoping to visit Alcatraz, or I'd love to see the cable car museum."
He nodded thoughtfully. "Seems rather," he paused, "studious."
"What's wrong with that?" He thinks I'm some sort of nerd.
"Doesn't sound very fun." He raised an eyebrow at her. "It's vacation! You need to loosen up Swan, live a little; be spontaneous."
"Spontaneity has its time and place," she huffed. "Besides, this entire trip is pretty spontaneous for me." She glared across at him. "I'm stuck in this car with you aren't I?"
"Precisely," he smirked at her, "and admit it, I'm growing on you."
She didn't want to admit it to him, but he kind of was. She shifted her attention back to the road. "What's your reason for spontaneously driving across the country?"
"I'm out to see some of my mates from the UK. They're throwing a kegger so should keep me entertained till I head north to wine country."
"Wine country? You don't exactly strike me as a wine connoisseur," she glanced at him doubtfully, "What are you going to do drink your way through the vineyards?"
"Not exactly," he leaned back, grinning, "Going to see where the wind takes me." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Might hike in Yosemite if it's not too cold." Killian had a distant look in his eye, "I haven't really settled on a plan."
God I'd love to see Yosemite.
Emma pictured wandering along trails in search of the best view of picturesque waterfalls. The tranquility of nature seemed like the perfect way to spend winter break. Odd, to find no sign of Neal in her mental vacation. But that doesn't mean anything-she berated herself.
"You could always come with me," he broke into her thoughts with a smirk.
Emma felt a flash of alarm- Is he psychic or something?
"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" She rolled her eyes at him.
"Perhaps I would."
His soft admission struck a chord in her. It was hard for her to tell if it was a stab of fear or desire that settled in her stomach.
Maybe it's the fear that I'm attracted to him.
A loud bang interrupted his flirtation and suddenly the car veered to the right.
"What the hell!" Emma gripped the wheel and tried to coast to the side of the road.
"Shit! Don't touch the brakes!" Killian cursed, "A bloody blowout from the sounds of it."
She kept a tight hold on the wheel to keep the car from shuddering out of control.
Once they were parked in the breakdown lane, she and Killian jumped out. Sure enough the right front tire was in tatters around the rim.
"Buggering fuck," he grumbled while he kicked at it in frustration.
Emma tamped down the impulse to panic, and paced back and forth while she tried to remember the last town they'd passed through. It seemed like it was more than an hour ago. The horizon held nothing but flat expanses of brown interspersed with muddy fields; no sign of another soul for miles.
"Please tell me you have a spare."
He scowled down at the wheel and strode to the back of the Volvo to raise the hatch. He threw their bags into the backseat to dig out the spare. Killian lifted the tire out and bounced it along the ground to the front of the car.
"I do indeed have a spare," he muttered and returned to the trunk, to bang things around in his search for tools. She stepped back as he hunkered down and planted his hands in the dirt, looking for the best spot on the car's frame to anchor it.
Emma tried to resist the desire to blatantly stare where his t-shirt inched up. She couldn't help but admire the expanse of skin and top of his boxers revealed.
Nice ass.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. "See something you like there Swan?"
She flushed in embarrassment at being caught checking out his rear end. It was hard not to notice with it right there for her viewing pleasure. She tried to cover for herself by tossing a quip back at him, "I see a carjack that looks older than me and I'd be shocked if you get it to lift your car."
He grinned and turned back to his task while she watched as he screwed the handle in place. His deft fingers slid along the bottom of the car until he nodded his head and popped the tool into the appropriate spot.
She had to withhold a chuckle as he tried to pump the handle of the rusty jack. His attempts were in vain - it wasn't going to budge. The muscles in his shoulders bunched and strained as he tried to apply more pressure.
I really shouldn't be enjoying this, but damn that black t-shirt does fit him nicely in all the right places.
"Are you staring at me again Swan?" he looked up at her. "You could lend a hand."
"You seem to have the situation under control." She tried not to snicker at the smudge of dirt that now decorated his forehead.
He huffed and ignored her, trying once more to force the handle. Emma watched as he gripped it tighter, jimmying it with more force, until the tips of his ears burned bright red. He twisted it loose, ripping the jack from beneath the car and hurled it into the grass.
Well, that was unexpected.
"Killian?" She didn't mean to sound small and unsure, but Emma was surprised by his temper tantrum. She was used to carefree flirty Killian; not angry, fiery Killian. Even though it was kind of hot, she didn't want that wrath aimed in her direction.
He stared out over the field and wiped his hands on his jeans then turned and stomped back to the car. The door creaked open and he slid behind the wheel, where he proceeded to prop his elbows on his knees and rake his hands through his hair.
Emma slipped into the passenger seat, rubbing her hands to warm them up.
She cleared her throat to catch his attention. "Uh, I could call Triple AAA," she pulled her phone out of her pocket and waved it in his direction. His blue eyes looked up at her sharply.
I probably should have mentioned that I belonged to Triple AAA before he lost his temper.
"You could have mentioned that before Swan," he growled through gritted teeth.
"Well, you seemed to be all gung-ho to prove yourself," she tried to joke. "I figured I'd give you the chance to be the hero."
Killian reached into the back to grab his hoodie, grumbling about the fact she could have saved him the time and aggravation of changing the tire himself.
"We're in the middle of nowhere," she placed her hand on his forearm. "You'd have been finished long before they got here if the jack worked." That seemed to placate his irritation and she concentrated on looking up her Triple AAA info while Killian decompressed.
Once she'd placed the call, and learned that it would be awhile before someone could get to their location, she reclined the seat and propped her legs up so she could try to scroll through her texts in some semblance of comfort. She was hoping for something new, but once again it was radio silence from her boyfriend. Doubts gnawed away again that something was not right. His last text had been brief without much sentiment.
N: Hey babe, sunny and warm here. Hope you're enjoying the cold of Boston.
Maybe the spotty reception was to blame.
She shook her head at her own pathetic excuse before words flew from her fingers as she tapped out a response to his last brief note. She frowned down at the screen and deleted her message with more forceful tapping than necessary.
Killian glanced over at her, "You know if you tap that phone any harder, lass, you just may crack the screen."
Emma gripped the phone and had to reign in the impulse to fling it into the same field he'd tossed the jack.
"Damnit! Why won't he answer my texts?" she fumed at the phone. "Tell me, Jones, is there some secret guy code that prevents you from communicating?"
Killian looked at her dubiously. "So you're driving across the country to see a guy that won't answer your messages?" He shook his head, "On top of the fact that you've failed to inform him of your impending arrival."
Emma glared down at the phone in her hand, refusing to look at Killian. "Well, I wanted to surprise him." Her answer seemed like an excuse and it irked her that what he said made sense.
"But you're concerned because his lack of response," he stated matter-of-factly.
"It just seems suspicious. I don't want to be the jealous long distance girlfriend," She looked across at him, curious at what his advice might be, "But am I wrong?"
"I can't speak for another," he scratched behind his ear shyly, "but a woman as beautiful as you deserves a man's full and prompt attention." He turned his gaze on her, "That's just bad form."
She flushed at the compliment and tore her eyes away from his. In the rearview mirror she caught sight of a truck approaching and a wave of relief spread through her.
Looks like the cavalry has arrived.
At least with the tow truck interrupting she wouldn't have to truly address the way his compliment had warmed her inside. Killian did push her buttons in the most annoying way, but he also seemed to be able read her moods like an open book. She wasn't ready to look too closely at what that all might mean.
Killian stood outside in the cold while the tow truck guy finished changing his tire. He'd braved the chill air to give Emma some space to mull over his advice. The fact that she'd asked what he thought about her non-responsive boyfriend revealed that she'd let down her guard just a bit.
Gotta tread lightly here; keep her from running behind her walls again.
"All set, Mr. Jones," he scrawled out the rest of the work order to sign. "I wouldn't drive too far on that spare though. You'll want to get a new tire or two," he handed his card to Killian and headed back to his truck.
"Thanks mate, I appreciate it."
"It's not too far down the road if you want to follow me."
Killian slipped behind the wheel and pulled out behind the tow truck. He wasn't thrilled to have to purchase a new tire, but such were the perils of cross country driving.
Emma sat quietly in the passenger seat and he worried perhaps that he had frightened her off. Maybe prodding her on her invisible boyfriend had been too far over the line.
"How about a round of twenty questions to pass the time?" she offered.
Ok, so maybe I haven't spooked her after all.
A wave of relief flooded through him. "Sure Swan, but with the caveat that we can pass on any question we don't feel like answering?" He figured that would give her an out, but also protected him from any answering anything he wasn't willing to share.
Now to start easy on her.
"What are you studying at university?"
"Seriously? You're going to ask what my major is?"
He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "Well I could have started out with something a lot more inappropriate, but I figured that would be the end of the game."
She paused for a beat before answering, in which Killian had time to worry that perhaps no topic was safe to ask her. But then he figured she wouldn't have offered to pass the time in in this way if she wasn't comfortable about revealing some of herself.
"Well, I started out undeclared and finally settled on English," she tucked her hair behind her ear. "But I think I'm leaning toward concentrating on education."
She'll need to work on patience if her tutoring session with me is any indication of her teaching style. Then again I am a handful.
"Ah, a teacher then?" he chuckled. "I must admit to being quite the rapscallion in class." he paused, "I may or may not have been suspended on more than one occasion."
"Why am I not surprised?" Emma shifted in her seat, "So what was your crowning achievement for getting tossed out of school?"
"I kidnapped the school mascot and put her up on the roof of the building." He peered over at her to catch the look of shock on her face. "She was a very brave goat."
Ah, that garnered a smile.
"Ok, my turn," he pondered a question that would get her to unveil more of herself. "Favorite movie?"
She looked thoughtful, "It's hard to narrow down to just one. So many good franchises; Indiana Jones, The Godfather, Star Wars…" she trailed off.
At mention of the Godfather, Killian's curiosity jumped tenfold. "Ok, so Godfather one or two?" He couldn't believe that she named so many of his own favorite movies in such a short amount of time.
The lass has good taste.
Emma's face blanched. "That's an impossible question to answer!"
"So is this the question you're going to pass on?" he grinned mischievously in her direction.
"No way! But," her brow furrowed, "how can you pick one over the other? It should just be counted as one epic movie."
He had to restrain the grin that threatened to broadcast his happiness. She'd voiced all his own opinions on this movie franchise (with the exception of Godfather 3), and seeing her squirm over choosing between the two was rather entertaining. "But you can only watch ONE," he pressed.
"Ugh, if you're going to force me, I'd have to say," she paused, a look of torment on her face, "Two. It's gotta be Godfather II." He grinned and nodded in agreement at her choice.
She sank lower in her seat. "My turn," She chewed her lip and looked like she was casting about for a question.
"Sure lass, ask away," he waited patiently. This trip was suddenly a lot more fun now that Emma was getting more at ease in his company. He focused his attention back to the tow truck in front of them and away from the way her teeth worried at her lip.
"I don't know what to ask," she sounded frustrated. "Anything I come up with is lame." She threw her hands up in the air. "What's your major? Favorite color? Favorite movie?" She rattled them off in rapid sequence, and Killian responded in kind.
"Biology, green and," he paused dramatically, "Spinal Tap." He glanced over at her, "That was far more questions than you're allowed to ask in one turn."
"You're a bad influence," she shrugged and gave him a challenging look. "I'm living on the edge and breaking rules."
"So it's my turn now," he wanted to ask something to shed some light on her past. "What landed you in Boston?"
Emma paused, the seconds ticked by and Killian worried that maybe this was too much. He was about to tell her never mind and ask an innocuous question when she spoke up.
"I moved around a lot, but somehow always end up back in Boston." She looked out the window, "Seemed fitting I'd go to college there as well."
It was just vague enough to give him an answer but he could tell there was more to it. She'd appeared to take the time to weigh exactly what to divulge without letting him past those walls. She just didn't seem willing to spill any secrets just yet.
He nodded at her answer, "Your turn, lass."
"So what's with the accent?"
Bloody hell.
His heart skipped a beat; he couldn't bring up where he'd come from without dredging up memories of his brother. He toyed with the thought of skipping this question, but he did want to share some of his story with her.
At least she wants to know more about me.
"Well as you may have surmised," he played up his accent, "I'm not originally from this country." It was easier to hide behind his jokes and banter than to face the reality of life without family.
"No!" Emma scoffed in feigned disbelief. "I never would have known." In his peripheral vision, he could see the corners of her eyes crinkling in amusement. Then she paused, and turned an expectant face towards him; waiting no doubt for him to fill in more details. This was not an easy story to share, but her genuine interest pushed him to blurt it out.
"My dad brought my brother Liam and I here from the UK, not long after my mother passed." It didn't exactly roll off his tongue, but once he'd spilled it out, a weight lifted off of him. "He wasn't around much. My brother pretty much looked out for the two of us."
"Is that who you're going to visit on the coast?" Emma appeared curious, waiting on his response.
His heart plummeted, "Alas, no." he managed to choke out before his throat tightened in grief. It felt like ripping off a band-aid; sharp quick pain. Emma sat quietly and he didn't feel like offering up any more of the details of his upbringing. He took a deep breath and regained his composure. "And that's two questions in a row, Swan." He tried to lighten the mood and bring it back to less heavy questions. "It's my turn to ask."
She nodded ahead of them, "You'll have to wait on that, looks like we've arrived in town."
The tow truck pulled into the service station and Killian followed close behind. He hopped out and trailed after the driver into the ramshackle office, grateful for the chance to be alone after the heavy topic of his orphaned existence. He took a deep breath and listened as the helpful tow guy - Leroy - described the variety of choices for tires.
This is not going to help my bank account.
After ordering a pair, Leroy pointed out the small motel within walking distance down the street. Having to spend money on repairs was a total pain in his ass, but at least he'd get to spend more time with Emma.
I hope she doesn't get antsy about the delay in getting to California.
"We'll leave the car here for the night, till they can get the tires mounted for us." Killian informed Emma when he returned to the car. "Not going to make it much further today so may as well settle in." He handed Emma her backpack and slung his own over his shoulder. The little smile she gave him set his heart aflutter. He'd better be extra careful not to get too attached to her.
"After you milady," he gestured grandly to proceed him toward the motel.
While Killian sorted out the car repair, Emma stared out the window. She'd obviously hit a nerve with her question. There was no way to miss the flash of grief that had passed over his face when she'd asked about his brother.
I wonder what happened?
She noticed the little motel next door and a sketchy looking local bar across the street. Not much going on in this town. Killian trudged over to her and leaned in through the window she'd rolled down, "We'll leave the car here for the night, till they can get the tires mounted for us."
She rolled the window back up and hopped out to join him. He pried open the back door and grabbed her bag for her. "Not going to make it much further today so may as well settle in."
Emma slung her pack over her shoulder and smiled at him, before he grandly paraded her in front of him. This motel wasn't much better than the last; another dingy room with only one bed. Killian dropped his bag on the bed before washing up in the bathroom.
Out of sorts would be the best way to describe how he'd been acting since they'd dropped the car. She'd gotten just a glimpse of the pain he hid behind his mask of bravado and she realized she wasn't the only one with a sad story in her past. She'd been so intent on keeping up her own walls, now that they'd gotten more comfortable with each other she realized his swagger and flirting habits were his own shield of self-preservation.
"Swan, I'm headed across the street to grab a drink and maybe some food." Refreshed looking he appeared from the bathroom, his hair looked a bit damp, like he'd washed his hands and scrubbed them through it. He seemed more composed than he had been in the car. He reached for the door and glanced back at her, "You are welcome to accompany me."
She shrugged her shoulders, "I could eat," grabbed her wallet out of her bag and followed him out the door.
They jogged across the road and ventured into the tavern. The place wasn't crowded for early evening, and only a couple of locals turned their heads to take them in.
It was just as she'd imagined, the typical small town bar with sticky menus stacked between the salt and pepper shakers on the table. They settled at a booth in the back corner.
"I'd kill for a grilled cheese and some onion rings." Emma poured over the laminated sheet of food.
"You're in luck then Swan," he tapped the items on the menu with his finger. "We can share the rings if you'd like."
She gave him a look of mock horror, "Share? Onion rings?" She pulled her menu closer, "Sorry, Jones, I'm not one for sharing."
He raised his eyebrows at her, "Well I could understand your position if it were french fries." He leaned back and looked across the table. "How about we get an order of fries as well, and split both?"
When he stared at her like that, slouching comfortably and looking rumpled in his worn henley with the top few buttons undone how could she say no? It was bad enough the poor guy had to shell out for a pair of new tires. She couldn't help but feel herself softening toward him.
"Ok, we'll split both fries and rings." She looked back towards the bar for a waitress, but one didn't seem to be appearing anytime soon. Her fingers drummed against the table impatiently.
I'm giving this waitress one more minute before I chew my own hand off and eat it.
Killian seemed to notice her fidgeting and turned towards the bar as well.
"I'll just go order at the bar. Grilled cheese right?" She nodded and he slid out of the booth. "Do you want anything to drink?"
She wasn't aware until he asked how much she was in the mood to relax with a drink. "I'd kill for a beer," she settled lower into the booth and watched as he sauntered up to catch the server's attention.
Christmas lights were draped overhead among some of the beer steins that lined the wall behind the long wooden bar. Killian gestured back towards their booth and the bartender nodded before filling a couple of mugs from the tap. While he waited, Killian looked like he was poking around among what appeared to be board games by the end of the bar. He grabbed something and tucked it under his arm before he returned to the table with their beer.
"Here we go, Swan," he placed her beer in front of her while settling into his seat. "While we wait for our food, care for a spot of Jenga?"
Emma pulled the box towards her after a quick sip of beer. Upending the game, she slid the box up preserving the tower of game pieces. "Who knew drunks were so considerate?"
"Bloody hell, I don't even do that." His fingers reached out to snag a bar napkin that fluttered out from the bottom of the box. "Who puts it away so neatly?"
Emma snorted "Somehow I'm not surprised"
She carefully made sure the jenga tower was in the center of the table; not too close to their respective drinks.
"I wonder why there are dots on the pieces?" Emma turned one over looking at the marks before placing it back atop the tower.
They proceeded to trade turns pushing the pieces from below and stacking them on top while waiting on their meals. Emma couldn't help but chuckle to herself at the look of intense concentration on Killian's face. He must not have realized he was sticking his tongue out while he tried to find the most stable block to move.
Damn, I shouldn't be finding that cute. He IS growing on me. What the hell is wrong with me?
The waitress finally arrived and scowled down at the tower of blocks obstructing her spot to put their food. Emma glanced up and smiled sheepishly before carefully sliding the game out of the way.
"Sorry," she mumbled to the waitress while she took another swig of beer. Killian raised his beer and chugged down the rest of his. She was more than ready to dive into her food.
Once the basket of fries and onions rings where between them, all conversation ended and they concentrated on their meal. The grilled cheese was crispy and Emma wasn't sure she'd tasted anything so good since they'd started this jaunt across the country. Killian's burger looked just as delicious and he groaned in a way that had her shifting in her seat.
That's a pretty sinful sound.
As he munched on a french fry, Killian pulled the bar napkin that had fallen out of the jenga box toward him. A smile spread across his face and he handed it across to Emma.
"Appears those marks on the blocks are for a reason Swan."
She read the basic rules that someone had jotted down. "Drunken Jenga?"
"Are you up for the challenge?"
"Sure, it's not like there's anything else going on in this place," she glanced at the scruffy looking trucker who had taken up residence at the end of the bar. He looked to be humming along to the holiday tunes drifting out of a beat up speaker over his head. "Not sure I could handle karaoke with the locals."
"Was that a joke?" he stood up. "Be careful there Swan, you may have to admit to having fun with me."
Killian made his way back to the bar and returned with a pitcher of beer and two shot glasses cradled in one of his hands.
"Prepare to have your ass kicked," he smirked at her. "Since a star on the piece means a shot, I took the liberty of getting whiskey."
Emma arched an eyebrow at the drink of choice.
I am partial to Jameson's.
"That's a star on my piece," Killian gleefully waved it towards Emma's face. "That's a shot according to the rules." He swayed into her space, the effects of the alcohol making him want to push her buttons; he may or may not admit to himself that her hair smelled good too.
"Yeah yeah, I'm drinking," Emma shoved him back and grabbed her shot glass to drain it. "My turn Jones."
He watched as she squinted at the pile of interlocking blocks. They'd been playing long enough that they'd refilled the pitcher and the tower was beginning to teeter precariously. He was really enjoying the teasing between them. After a few drinks Emma's walls were most certainly lowered.
"Careful there Swan, don't want to knock the whole thing down, otherwise you'll be finishing all the drinks."
"You're just trying to distract me."
"I can think of much better ways to distract you than pestering you, love."
Shit, did I just say that out loud?
He held his breath and glanced up to see if she would retreat behind her walls at his blatant innuendo. She rested her elbows on the table and lifted her head from her perusal of the jenga pieces. He expected to see anger or fear, but was surprised to see a flash of...is that desire?
She snorted, "Oh? Just what sort of distractions did you have in mind?" She poked a piece and extracted it from the tower of blocks, "Because I am winning this game." She flipped it up to show him the star before placing it on the top of the pile. "Drink your whiskey like a good boy."
An inebriated Emma Swan was rather entertaining and much less inhibited.
"And what do I get if I'm a good boy?" Killian raised his shot glass and downed it, holding her gaze the entire time.
"Not punched in the face," she arched an eyebrow at him and paused. "If you're lucky."
Killian chuckled at her comeback, and shook his head. The whiskey left a burning trail down his throat and he licked his lips to gather the last of it, before he noticed Emma's captivating green eyes focused on his mouth.
Bloody hell, she's more of a distraction than I am.
He bit his lip and focused on choosing a jenga piece for his turn. He tried to ignore the fact that Emma was staring at him.
Killian searched for the most promising piece; he leaned around poking a block to test if it was loose enough to come free. The block wiggled a bit and he pushed to work it out.
Suddenly Emma's foot grazed against his calf in a most tantalizing way. The table jarred as his leg bounced against it and he watched as the tower of wooden blocks began to sway dangerously.
Emma grinned across from him as all the pieces came crashing down between them.
"You lose," she couldn't keep the glee out of her voice. "Drink up, Killian."
The half full pitcher of beer and two more shots of whiskey lurked just to his left.
"You're really enjoying this aren't you Swan?" he glared across the table at her. Then her knowing smirk clued him in. "Wait, you did that on purpose- with your foot!"
She started to clear the pieces and stack them neatly back in place while he reached for the pitcher to empty the rest into his glass. "You knocked the table, you lost." She pushed her shot glass closer to him. He grabbed it and threw it back before taking a sip of beer.
"Taunting does not become you." He tipped back the rest of the beer before he took a deep breath and eyed the last shot of Jameson's.
I'm probably going to regret this in the morning.
"I'm not going to have to carry you across the street am I?" she teased.
Killian leaned back to take another moment to prepare for the last shot. His head swam and he closed his eyes. The Christmas music penetrated through his bleary mind.
Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…
"Jack Frost nipping at your nose," he sang aloud to her.
She smiled at him and boxed up the rest of the Jenga game. "I think we're done for the evening."
Killian hummed along to the music as he grasped the shot glass, and eyed Emma flirtatiously before tossing it back.
Maybe I can charm the pants off her. Wait… I shouldn't be having these thoughts. Don't need to wreck all the friendly headway I've made.
The waitress brought their bill over and he turned his charms in her direction. He winked and assured her they were walking home.
Killian pushed himself out of the booth and felt the fuzzy wave of inebriation almost overtake his sense of balance. He had to concede that Emma was not as bad off as he was. She was a skilled Jenga player and seemed to have the knack for pulling the pieces that had him doing far more shots than he'd have chosen to do otherwise.
I'm definitely going to regret this tomorrow.
Once the chilled air outside hit him, Killian straightened up and prepared to make his way back to the motel. Emma stumbled along next to him until they ended up leaning into each other.
"Are you still singing that Christmas carol?" Emma asked him.
"Sorry love, I didn't realize that I was." He sagged heavily on her shoulder and she wrapped an arm around his waist. They managed to scuffle across the street and make their way to the door of their room. Emma pulled out the key and let them inside where she pushed him towards the bed. He stumbled against the mattress before turning toward her.
"No no no, it's your turn for the bed Swan." He grabbed a pillow and began to pull the comforter from the bed.
"You don't have to sleep on the floor." Her soft voice halted him in his tracks.
He turned back and placed the pillow back on the bed. "Are you sure? I don't mind taking my turn down with the cockroaches."
"I trust you," she collapsed onto the bed after she kicked off her shoes. "You don't have to sleep on the floor."
Killian settled on the edge of the bed and attempted to remove his sneakers. The laces swam before his eyes. Did I double knot these? He slumped back frustrated and unable to untie his Chuck Taylors.
"Give 'em here," Emma gestured for his feet.
His heart leapt at her offer. He swung his legs around and placed his sneakers into her lap. She squinted down at the laces and tried to work them loose; apparently feeling the effects of the whiskey as well. Finally she tugged each shoe free and dropped them to the floor.
"I never would have imagined I'd be trashed from playing Jenga." She pulled off her socks. "You are a bad influence, Killian Jones."
"You're a lifesaver, love," Killian sighed in relief and pulled his hoodie off to get more comfortable and prepare for bed. He caught her eyes dropping to the flash of his skin before he tugged his t-shirt down. He unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped the fly while he cast a lascivious grin in her direction.
So, she's not quite impervious to my charms.
"Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?" Emma turned her head away from him.
"I'm getting ready for bed. I'm certainly not going to sleep in my jeans." He tugged one leg off and kicked them to the floor. "I've got boxers on, fear not." He leaned into her personal space, "Aren't you going to take yours off too?"
She smacked his arm and shoved him back to his side of the bed. But then to Killian's delight she turned and yanked her jeans off before slipping under the sheets. She glared at him, sank beneath the covers and twisted and contorted herself in a way that baffled him. She snaked her arm out from beneath the covers. A flash of red lace caught his eye and he realized with a jolt that she'd taken off her bra.
"There, are you happy?" She fluffed the pillow and settled in, "Now I'm ready for bed."
Dear god, red lace? He groaned inwardly. I wonder if her panties match?
Killian couldn't believe his good fortune. Looks like I have charmed the pants off her, quite literally. Drunk Emma was much more daring and he had to suppress the urge to fist pump in glee. The warm feeling was not just the alcohol coursing through his system. Tonight was the first time Swan had seemed to actually loosen up and enjoy his company. Whiskey fueled his confidence and he wondered how close to the line he could get without crossing over.
I better not push my luck too far.
"Are you going to tell me a bedtime story?" He figured being cute wouldn't get him banished to the floor.
Emma rolled her eyes, "You're going to make me regret letting you sleep in the bed aren't you."
Killian chuckled and turned off the bedside lamp. "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…" he sang softly.
"Shhh!" came her sharp reply.
He settled in beneath the blanket, careful not to stray too close to her side of the bed. "Liam would have liked you; you don't take any of my shenanigans."
"Good night, Killian."
"Good night, Emma."