Prince Charming was the rock of his kingdom, the rock of his family. According to his dearest wife, his body was also a rock. He never wanted to brag about it, but for someone who was in a coma for 28 years, he looked pretty good. He sighed heavily.
David felt as if he turned into a Jell-O. Green, wobbly Jell-O. This was exactly why he wished for a son. It would spare him the desire to threaten or possibly murder all possible love intrests of his beloved child. Alas, one of the days he dreaded the most since he found out Snow was carrying a girl has come and one would think he was the one going on a date.
It was ridiculous, beyond ridiculous. Emma was no longer a little girl in a flower dress. Emma was no longer a rebellious teenager who wouldn't come home right on curfew. She probably never was, not for him, not for anyone beside a mirror. She's not only been dating, she also had her own child which meant... Well... Everybody obviously knew what it meant and David never wanted to elaborate on it, especially since he had met Neal. He had plenty to say about this man, who happened to be older that him. His fist had even more to say about Neal's face, but he wouldn't listen to it. At least, not in front of Henry.
Speaking of men older than him, it wasn't that he didn't trust Hook. Jones. But he didn't trust him. He trusted his heart, he didn't trust his eyes, his hand and... No.
David looked at Snow, who appeared to be less concerned about their daughter's plans for the evening. It was understandable - Emma and Snow had got a chance to be friends before they became mother and daughter. Emma probably confied to her many times, giving her a glimpse of her life and experiences with men. He always wanted to ask but wasn't sure if he really wanted to know. Tracking down every man who layed his dirty hands on his daughter was not only impossible but irrational.
His musings were constantly interrupted by the sound of zippers and heels coming from Emma's bedroom. Zippers, heels, hair-dryer, "shit", "damn", random objects hitting the surface of the sink. As much as she tried to hide it from them, he knew she was excited. Smiles constantly crept on her face, her eyes illuminated by a brand new spark, cheeks turning red from time to time. He did not want to know the reason for that. And as much as David tried to deny it, he was happy for her. In light of all the craziness that happened in the past year, his daughter deserved at least one evening of something as ordinary as a date. With Captain Hook. David sighed again.
The clock struck nine and someone knocked on the door. A familiar figure dressed in black leather stood before him. David didn't know if he expected him to wear normal clothes. Hook's pirate attire reminded him of why he liked and didn't like him. What he didn't expect were two colorful bouquets.
"Hook."
"Not Hook, mate. Not tonight." pirate raised the limb where his cold and dangerous namesake should be, only to reveal a prosthetic hand. David smiled and invited him into the apartment.
"Last time I was here, you greeted me with your fist."
"Don't tease me, mate. We can always change that."
Jones grinned and turned to Snow.
"Good evening, milady. These are for you." he extended his good hand holding a bouquet of wildflowers. A smaller one. The second one, bigger and richer was obviously for Emma.
"Thank you. It's so kind of you." Snow accepted the gift and started looking for a vase.
"Apologies, mate. I don't have any flowers for you."
"It's surprising you managed to get any flowers at all. You did shoot the daughter of the only florist in this town." Hook was still smiling but guilt was visible in his eyes. Before he even got a chance to retort, the clicking of heels cought his attention and the guilt was gone. It was replaced by bewilderment and awe, as if he experienced a revelation. And it was a revelation, indeed.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't how he had imagined it. He was supposed to be asked for permission. He would be merciful enough to grant one. Emma would be prepared and dressed with a help of her maids. She would wear a gown with a corset and dozens of layers, making it impossible to catch a glimpse of her skin. Making it impossible to undress her without getting frustrated and giving up in the process. No first, second or third base, hell no! With Leroy or Granny as their chaperone, Emma's suitor would only have the honour of holding her hand. This is how it was supposed to be! No one warned him. Why didn't anybody warn him?
No gowns, no braids, no chaperones. Emma's hair fell on her shoulders like golden waves, quite similar to the ones she had when he met her as David Nolan. She wore her red leather jacket and... a skirt? A skirt?! The only time David had seen his daughter wearing a skirt was when she was going to New York with Gold. A skirt?! David wasn't prepared for the dangers of women's clothing outside of their kingdom. No, she was supposed to wear something longer, warmer, harder to dispose of. He almost wanted to turn to Snow for some assistance, when he remembered that it was not his place to say anything. He didn't even have the illusion of having any right to say anything and it hurt him. The sight of his daughter hurt him - so beautiful and so happy. It was all wrong, yet it couldn't be more perfect.
David turned to Hook and seeing that he was completely speechless and frozen, he gave him a little push. His reaction amused him and warmed his heart a little. Yes, it was exactly how his only daughter deserved to be looked upon.
Emma smiled at him and tucked her locks behind her ear. Hook gave her the flowers and it was Emma's turn to be speechless and frozen. Her eyes lit up and she gave the man a humble and contained smile. It was crystal clear that she didn't expect the flowers. Was it possible that she never received any flowers? David swallowed the hurt that appeared within him at this very thought - the thought that his daughter, the princess, was never treated like a lady.
Their entire exchange was a little bit awkward. David wanted to say something about coming home no later than 2 a.m., but he knew that Snow was counting on some time just for the two of them. He wanted to say something about keeping his hands away from Emma, but he knew Emma hand her own hands, too. To talk about any kind of protection would be too embarrassing - Hook probably wasn't familiar with modern world's condoms, Emma probably was and he so didn't want to think about that. David just told them to have fun and stay safe, when the door shut behind them before he reached for the door knob.
That was it. She was gone. David laughed when it was him and Snow to give her traumatising childhood experiences, when she caught them in bed early in the afternoon way back when. Now he was the one facing the music. And he knew, it would never change - she would always be his baby girl, the one he held in his arms before he sent her off to a foreign land. Not a grown-up woman in a skirt always too short for his liking, but a baby in a blanket. And just when the arm he once held her in started to feel cold and empty, Snow reached for it.
"Emma is gone. Henry's with Regina. It seems like we're the only ones without plans for tonight..."
"Oh, really? So you don't have anything in mind?"
Snow gave him a mischievious smile and headed to their bedroom. David followed her without a word. Gods, how he wished for a son.