A/n: This chapter took only two days to write and is actually the chapter that first came to mind when I started formulating this fic. There's a lot of fluff and absolutely not sex, though there is mentions of the night before here and there. I absolutely love this chapter and the twist that occurred that came about in a slightly different way than I first saw it happening. I love working on this fic. Reviews make me happy!
She wasn't entirely certain what pulled her out of her dreams, whether it be the sunlight streaming through the partially drawn curtains or the distinct lack of warmth coming from behind her. He'd been curled around her most of the night and she hadn't had a word of complaint about how nice it felt to be held the way he'd held her. But now as she stretched out and rolled over, she found the bed beside her empty and cold.
"I wasn't even that drunk." Emma mumbled to herself as she rubbed at her eyes. She was achy all over, in all the right places – letting her know that no part of last night had been some hazy half-drunk dream. Because two beers were barely a buzz for her anymore. She'd been tipsy, right up until the sobering orgasm he'd given her on the sofa.
Emma rolled over and eyed her alarm clock – it was seven, well past when she typically got up. He was good, she had to give him that, because she hadn't even heard him get up. She could only hope that all of her valuables were still where she'd left them, otherwise she was going to be fucking pissed if she'd fallen for the same old shit again. He hadn't seemed like that sort of guy, but then again they never did.
Her toes curled as she stretched out on the bed again, reaching her arms out above her head, working the kinks out of the back of her neck. He hadn't been kidding, the way she'd laid on him on the sofa had not been the right way to lay. She moved across her bedroom to grab the housecoat that was hanging on the back of her closet door, before she slipped it on and moved to leave her bedroom.
As she pulled the door open she realized he hadn't left. The delicious scent of bacon hit her nose, making her mouth salivate and her stomach growl. Was he seriously making breakfast for her? She was definitely still asleep, because that was not normal, that was the sort of crap you read about in a Nicholas Sparks book, in between old people rekindling old flames and teenagers dying of cancer.
She checked her reflection in the mirror as she passed the bathroom, untangling a few noticeable knots in her hair, before she padded barefoot into the kitchen. "You really didn't have to do this for me Killian. You're a guest here."
He looked up from the stove with a warm smile that made her tingle all the way down to her toes. "But I wanted to. And I was going to bring it in there to you before you woke up."
"I guess I beat you to the punch." Emma tucked her hair behind her ears, moving to lean against the kitchen counter. "Did you sleep well?" She didn't know how morning conversations like this went. She remembered how they went when she was an awkward teenager, trying to sound like an adult to please a guy that she should have stayed away from.
"Best sleep of my life." Killian commented as he flipped a pancake over before depositing it on the plate beside the stove. "I hope you're hungry."
"I'm starving." She declared, licking her lips as she watched him flip another pancake. "I hadn't realized how hungry I was until this morning. I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday."
"Good because I made way too many pancakes." He flashed her a quick grin, before he moved across the kitchen to pour the coffee he'd brewed.
"I don't drink coffee." Emma told him, stopping him before he poured into the second mug.
"Then why do you have coffee?"
Emma rolled her eyes, "I have friends, they come over, and they drink the coffee." She laughed as she strolled into the kitchen, grabbing the mug and filling it with milk, before popping it into the microwave. "I drink cocoa," She informed him, glancing back over her shoulder at him. "With cinnamon on top."
Killian gave her a sidelong look, "Do you like cinnamon on your pancakes too?"
"Just lots of butter and syrup." Emma replied, pulling the mug out of the microwave, dumping the right amount of cocoa mix in into the milk. "What? Do you put cinnamon on your pancakes?"
"No. I'm not weird." He teased, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he met her eyes as she approached him. "What's that look for?"
Emma pursed her lips as her eyes raked over him, her head canted to one side. "Are you sure you aren't gay or something? Because this –" She gestured towards the plate of pancakes and him. "only happens in chick-flicks."
"What? Do straight men not cook or something? Did you forget the part where I live alone, by myself, and have to… you know fend for myself." Killian retorted, giving her a look that had no small amount of sass in it.
"I fend for myself too, but I fend for myself in the form of take out and pizza delivery." Emma met his eyes, her brows shooting upwards, matching his sass with her own. "I'm just impressed. Who knew there were men in this world who give multiple orgasms and make breakfast?" And she'd managed to snag him for an entire weekend.
Killian passed a plate in her direction. "If that's the case, I'm impressed you had all of these ingredients in your cabinets."
"I have eggs because I do know how to make omelets and I have all the other stuff, because who doesn't have flour and oil in their kitchen?" Emma retorted, taking the plate from him with a haughty look. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, love." Killian smiled at her, that smile that had had her heart fluttering in her chest last night, still having the same effect on her today. "I'll be transparent and tell you that Google helped with that, I don't just know recipes off the top of my head."
"What a relief." Emma said dryly, her lips curving upwards in a quick smirk, before she dug into her stack of pancakes, practically groaning at the first bite. "What the hell did you put in these? They taste like heaven."
"A secret ingredient." Killian smirked, one brow cocking upwards as he wrapped his lips around his fork and ate a decent cut of pancakes.
"Suspicious." Emma countered. "Should I be worried?"
"Its vanilla, it makes it a little sweeter. I thought you could use it."
She feigned injury, "That was low buddy. I could have made you sleep on the sofa last night."
Killian laughed, covering his mouth. "Would there have still been conjugal visits if you'd banished me to the sofa?"
Emma shrugged, "Maybe."
Their banter died down for a few moments as they ate their breakfast. Eyes met and lips curled and unspoken words passed between in the silence. She had expected the awestruck sensation to have passed over the night, but instead she found herself a little more infatuated with the blue-eyed sailor with the unfair accent.
That was why she didn't let guys spend the night, because clearly sleeping with someone meant getting tangled up in emotions that shouldn't have been there. But there they were, making her heart beat fast and her cheeks go pink.
"So, I was thinking." Emma said as she pushed the last piece of her pancake around her plate, soaking up the leftover syrup, using the action to keep herself from looking at him. "There's this carnival down by the pier, it just popped up for the weekend. We could head down there today, so we're not just cooped up in here all weekend like stowaways."
"That sounds like a date Emma Swan."
Emma balked, "It's not a date. We'd just be hanging out."
"Hanging out like… friends? Because, while I'm flattered by that, we had sex last night and I don't think we can really just… pretend that away."
"I wasn't asking you to pretend away what happened last night." Emma insisted, sitting the plate down on the counter. "I was just asking if you wanted to go out. We're supposed to be spending this weekend like… you know real people who go out."
"I mean carnivals are typically couple events. If you're a teenager."
Emma's brows furrowed, "Fine, we don't have to go to the damn carnival, it was just an option. We'll just sit here and stare at the t.v. that doesn't work half the time."
Killian threw his hands up in surrender, "Bloody hell. I was joking, alright? Carnivals are fun at any age."
"It's fine, Killian." Emma's voice came out strained as she cast her eyes away from him. "I figured this weekend was supposed to be like free therapy and… I don't have the best memories associated to a carnival and I thought that maybe we could make new memories down there and maybe it would be good for me. But if you don't want to, it's fine."
"It's clearly not fine." Killian insisted, crossing his arms across his chest. "So, is this bad memory maker guy the one that caused all of this?"
Emma didn't answer that question, she evaded it, just like any other question about why she was the way she was. There were better ways to explain it without flat out saying that Neal had damaged almost to the point of no repair. "I met him stealing a stolen car, he asked me out for drinks… I was expecting a bar, but it ended up being coffee at a carnival after hours"
"So this is why you don't drink coffee?" Killian teased, trying to make light of the situation.
"It's why I don't do anything without expecting the second shoe to fall." Emma confessed, curling her fingers around her mug, bringing it up to her lips. "When I woke up this morning and you weren't still in bed, I figured you left and probably took some of my valuables with you."
"Sounds like you've slept with some class act men in your life."
Emma shook her head, "It's easier that way. Because then I can justify why I can't be with them. That's why you work, because I know you're going to be gone in a few days. I can't let myself be wrong about someone and run the risk of getting hurt again."
"Then we'll go to the carnival and we'll make damn certain that you have better memories when we leave that place." Killian swore to her. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"Opening up." He smiled at her. "It's nice to find out a little bit more about you."
Emma laughed, "It's only fair, you opened up to me last night." She smiled appreciatively at him. "I should be thanking you, really. Breakfast was delicious and completely unexpected."
Killian met her smile with one of his own. "That's because you thought I was some crook who was using sex to steal from you." He teased, stepping a little closer to her. "The only thing I ask in return, is the use of your iron – because I only have that horribly wrinkled thing from last night."
Emma chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes alight with something, she was fairly certain hadn't been there in years. "I'll go get that for you. Then I'm going to go use the shower." While part of her wanted to invite him to share it with her, she wanted to see how today would go for the two of them, without bringing sex into the equation.
"Don't have too much fun in there." He quipped, offering her a playful wink and a grin, before nodding in the direction of their dirty dishes. "I'll work on them while you get ready, then I'll hop in the shower myself when you're done."
She nodded, before ducking her head, "Let me grab that iron for you." She commented as she headed off back to where she kept it the small closet in the hallway. Emma's eyes flickered towards him, watching him as he moved around the kitchen – as though he belonged there.
Those were the sort of thoughts she shouldn't have been thinking of, but there she was imagining other breakfasts with him in one of those Kiss the Chef aprons, she'd idly looked at in stores with Mary Margaret, teasing her about David, while secretly longing for that sort of thing herself.
Emma set up the ironing board for him, plugging the iron in. She glanced towards the kitchen, smiling to herself once more as she watched him putting the dishes away in the dishwasher. He was a really phenomenal guy and, despite what he'd said, she was finding it hard to believe that he didn't have anyone waiting for him in some other port.
A guy like that? Someone so charming, handsome, good natured, and a sailor to boot had to have someone, somewhere. But that was neither here nor there. This weekend was about the two of them, enjoying a carefree weekend. To let themselves go.
But she had this hope, hope that she didn't want to admit to, a hope for something more – even though he would be gone on Monday. And maybe that was why she was hoping for more, because she knew it was impossible, she knew she could never have that. Masochism at its finest.
The shower did her good. It eased the ache in her sore muscles and woke her up better than coffee would have. She had a serious of interesting fingertip prints on her hips and upper thighs, and she found the little red marks from where his scruffy cheeks had left their imprint between her legs. She was fairly certain she'd have more marks before this weekend was over.
Emma had never been one to dress up when she went out, unless the goal of the evening was to attract whatever lowlife scumbag she had to catch for work. A pair of jeans and a tee shirt was vastly different from the short red dress she'd had on last night. But she had a good feeling that he wouldn't care what she had on or didn't have on.
She emerged from the bathroom, dressed in her cleaned clothes with her wet hair wrapped in a towel. All of this was incredibly domestic and intimate. He was standing there in her living room, ironing his clothes, enduring the misery that was her botched cable t.v.
"That thing has never worked right, I don't know why I pay for it." Emma commented.
"It's not so bad." Killian turned to look back at her, a lopsided grin on his face. "I hope you left some warm water in there for me."
She laughed, "I wasn't gone that long."
"It's a good thing I'm quick."
"That statement is not always a positive one in all situations." Emma barely controlled her laughter as she let her hair down, drawing the towel around her shoulders to keep her hair from getting her shirt too wet. She flopped down on the sofa, stretching her legs out in front of her, resting her bare heels on the coffee table.
Killian scoffed, as he tugged at the power cord of the iron, walking across the apartment to sit the hot iron on the stove to cool off. "I think you and I both know that I can hold my own when it comes to that."
Emma smirked to herself, "Well, we definitely know you're a giver, but I can't make an educated opinion on your virility." She glanced over the back of the sofa, catching his gaze for a quick second, before she looked back to the sketchy television.
"You wound me so." Killian drawled out, moving to lean over the back of the sofa, his lips close to her ear. Close enough that his breath danced over her skin, making her shudder. "And you expect me to carry around anything you win at the carnival, love?"
Emma turned her head, narrowing her eyes in a vain attempt to look tough, when truth be told he had heart pounding in her chest again. "Who asked you to carry my things around, love?" She retorted, doing a terrible impression of his accent.
"I don't sound like that."
"Oh, I think you do." She smirked, leaning in just enough to brush her lips over his, before she turned her head away from him. "Go shower. If we're going to carnival, we're going to have to leave soon."
"I'm going, I'm going." Killian insisted, raising his hands up in mock-surrender. "And there better be warm water or else."
"Or else what?" Emma questioned, with no small amount of sass in her tone. She glanced back over the sofa, catching his eyes for a brief second before he vanished down the hallway without a reply, leaving the possibilities of what wide open. He was so easy to talk to, to tease, as though they'd known each other a hell of a lot longer than an evening and part of a morning.
He made her laugh and more importantly – he made her smile, which if you asked any of her friends, took a lot of doing to make happen.
Emma leaned over the arm of the sofa, grabbing her discarded purse from the night, digging around in it for her phone. She had two messages, which wasn't the least bit surprising, considering Mary Margaret frequently left her little encouraging texts.
[Mary Margaret] Progress report! We made it up to my dad's old place, still as gorgeous as ever! With just as spotty cell service as before. The "evil queen" is in a freakishly good mood. I guess enough time has passed that she's calmed down. Not long after I left she adopted some baby. He's a great kid. He absolutely adores David. I hope you're having a fun, lazy weekend.
[Unknown Number] Is this Emma Swan?
She eyed the second text message, her brows furrowing together as she studied the unknown number. She didn't recognize the area code. As far as she knew, no one outside of her friend group knew her number.
"Depends on who this is." Emma muttered as she sent the message, dropping her phone back into her purse. She had enough to deal with right now, she didn't need some stranger texting her. With her amazing luck, it was probably someone she'd caught, seeking revenge or something like that. Which seemed fitting, really.
Emma headed back into her bedroom, checking her reflection in the mirror on the back of her door. She was fairly certain, were Mary Margaret there she would be chastising her for not putting more effort into her looks, considering the guy she had in her bathroom, but he hadn't run screaming when she'd come out in day old makeup and sex-mussed hair.
"Hey beautiful."
Emma spotted Killian's reflection in the mirror, standing there in the doorway. "Hey yourself." She managed to get out without sounding as flustered as she felt. "Ready to go?"
"Sure am, love." Killian pushed his fingers through his wet hair as he leaned against the doorframe. "You saved just enough warm water for me."
She laughed, "Aw. You mean I won't get to find out what your or else meant?" Emma teased as she slipped through the doorway, brushing a little closer to him than necessary. Her eyes flickered over his face, dropping to his incredibly kissable lips, before she headed back out into the living room. "You make yesterday's clothes look good."
"Ironing does wonders." Killian chuckled, smoothing his hands over the front of his white button up. "Luckily my pants didn't get too wrinkled up."
"Yet." Emma retorted sassily, grabbing her purse and shrugging it onto her shoulder. She gave him a once over, pursing her lips with a hint of a smirk turning the corners upwards. "I think everyone's going to see right through our ruse."
"How so?" Killian countered as he approached her, his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek.
Emma shrugged her shoulders, her lashes fluttering, her heart beating faster – far too easily effected by that look in his eyes. "Well, I mean there's you and then there's… me."
He rolled his eyes, "I can't tell if you're just self-deprecating in nature of if you're fishing for compliments." Killian drawled out, coming to stand just a breath away from her. "Because you're beautiful and I sure as hell hope that you've been told that enough in your life."
Emma pressed her lips together, "Maybe I just like the way it sounds coming out in your accent." She was blushing and there was no way to hide that fact from him.
Killian cupped her cheek, running his thumb along the curve of her cheekbone. "You're beautiful." Despite the situation and the fact that compliments worked in his best interests, Emma knew that his words were completely genuine. She was so used to false compliments, dishonest offers of encouragement, which came with her job.
"Thank you Killian." Emma whispered breathlessly, pushing her fingers through his hair like she'd wanted to since he'd come out of the bathroom. He had really good hair. She tipped her head just enough, brushing her lips against his. She was always looking for faults in people, excuses and reasons to distance herself from them. But she couldn't find a damn reason to avoid this one.
Desire was still there, but this kiss was far more tender than the ones that they'd shared the night before. It was full of all of those complicated emotions that she usually ran from. Despite what her head kept telling her, she chose to trust her gut and run heart first into whatever this was. It was worth the pain she might feel at the end, to give into someone who was willing to give her one hundred and ten percent of them.
The drive over to the carnival was fairly uneventful. She had never laughed so hard in her life until a casual oh well in response to getting stuck at a red light for seven minutes, turned into Killian reenacting a scene from The Godfather in the voice of Eeyore. They talked about their future goals, how he wanted to get promoted to Captain – to fulfil what his brother hadn't been able to finish out and how he wanted to go back to school and work on becoming a criminal profiler for the police department.
"Just because it might not work out in the end, doesn't mean you shouldn't pursue it." Killian told her as they pulled into the parking lot for the carnival. "The journey's worth it. You've just got to trust what your gut says, love."
Emma bit her lip to hide her smile as she unbuckled her seatbelt. "That's what I keep telling myself." She replied, giving him a sidelong look as she climbed out of the bug. "Maybe it'll work out and maybe it won't, but at least it could be fun on the way." She glanced over the top of her bug, meeting his eyes for a brief second, before she adverted her gaze. She knew full well that both of them weren't talking about her career pursuits.
"Life's all about the experience." Killian commented as he came around the car and took her hand, lacing their fingers. "Like going to a carnival."
"And breaking self-made rules." She retorted, smiling a little.
Killian squeezed her hand, "You just needed a good reason to cut loose."
"Oh, are you that good reason?"
"Obviously." He laughed, nudging her in the ribs with his elbow. "It takes a special sort of man to get past those walls of yours."
Emma scoffed, "And you got past them in record time. You just hammered right away at those defenses." She widened her eyes, trying to look serious and failing. "Do me a favor and don't make it too hard for me to patch them back up when you're done."
"Dully noted." Killian drawled out, cracking a small warm smile as he met her eyes. "Do you have those walls because of carnival guy?"
She swallowed thickly, dropping her gaze to the pavement as she walked. "Yeah." She admitted quietly, tightening her hold on his hand.
"You're afraid to talk, to reveal yourself, aren't you?" Killian insisted, pulling her to a stop just as they entered the gates of the carnival. "Whatever your past holds, love, I assure you that it's not going to frighten me away."
Emma shook her head, "You'll think less of me."
"I sincerely doubt that, lass. Have I judged you at all?"
"No, but –" She chewed on the inside of her bottom lip. "My own friends don't know, because I don't want them to know about what happened, because they'd think less of me, and maybe they wouldn't say it to my face, but I would just assume they were."
Emma lifted her gaze to meet his, her brows furrowing in a futile attempt to keep the broken way she felt from showing on her face.
"Your apartment's pretty empty, you're used to travelling around in that bug of yours, aren't you?" Killian questioned, his thumb rubbing comforting circles over the back of her hand.
"I move around a lot. I don't go far. Once I moved to New York for half a year before I was back in Boston. I'm used to travelling around, but I always stick to places on the coast." Emma explained to him. "I always say it's because the one time I wasn't by the water, I was sitting in a prison in Arizona, completely landlocked."
"You went to prison?" It was inquisitive, not judgmental, and the fact that he seemed to be a master at that tone made her lashes flutter and her heart race a little faster. She had expected him to pull his hand away from hers or look shocked. The open book thing was clearly not some passing comment he'd made.
"For someone else's crimes. Which isn't to say I wasn't guiltless, but I'm not the jackass who stole watches." She snapped out, anger bubbling up within her. "I was seventeen. He was like twenty-three, maybe older… I thought he loved me." She wasn't telling him the rest of the story. No one needed to know about the baby she'd given up. That kid was better of wherever he was, because it took her a very long time to have a stable life.
"That's not that bad, Emma. That doesn't make me look at you any differently, it just makes me want to find carnival guy and punch him in the face for you." He brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, swiping it back behind her shoulders. "Now your dreams of being a profiler makes sense to me."
Emma laughed, a little louder than she'd intended to. "I figure I spent enough time breaking the law that I know what to expect from those sort of people." She pursed her lips, looking up at him from beneath her lashes.
"I don't know how I should feel about this secret of yours, love… You thought that I was a thief that had stolen all of your belongings while you'd been asleep."
"Hey, it was possible! I mean, you're hot, you were fantastic in bed, I'm just saying… Something had to have been wrong." She smirked, meeting his impossibly blue eyes. "I probably had some sort of accident on the way to the bar last night and I'm actually dead or something."
Killian gave her an incredulous look, "I think I'm supposed to take that as a compliment. I'm so good, I'm probably an afterlife hallucination."
"I mean, my life hasn't had many Hallmark movie moments in it and I've racked up like… at least ten since I met you." She grinned up at him, "My life's more like something you'd see on TruCrime."
"Well, if this is a Hallmark movie, then we should probably go ride the Ferris wheel." Killian flashed her that cocky grin she'd grown rather fond of. He tugged at her hand and she willingly followed him through the carnival grounds, winding their way through parents with children and couples with each other, making their way back to the Ferris wheel that was set up to look out towards the water.
"So, Killian Jones," Emma started as she turned to face them while they waited in line. "What secrets are still left untold about you?" She questioned, her fingers toying with the collar of his shirt as she leaned against him. "Have you got a girl in every port that you take on Ferris wheels?"
"Hardly," Killian rested his hand at her waist, rubbing his thumb along the curve of her ribs there. "You and I are quite similar in that regard. I already told you, one night stands have always been the way I go about all of this."
She cocked one brow upwards, "So you don't make breakfast for every girl you sleep with?"
Killian made a face, "Oh, I'm sure there's been women who expected that out of me, but… I've kinda been an arse in the past. It's surprising how many women really bristle at being told to get out of my room after sex."
Emma laughed, "You really do sound like me. That's kinda creepy. At least you can just leave town and not have to deal with, you know, running into them on public transport or having them in front of you at Starbucks."
"If you're looking for faults in me, love, you can just ask me straight up to list them for you." Killian said matter-of-factly.
"There's a list?" Her nose scrunched up, her lips betraying her amusement. "Should I be worried?"
Killian leaned in a pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, "It's a short list. I drink too much, I shout when I'm angry, and I hog the sheets."
Emma rolled her eyes, "You can hog the sheets as much as you want to, because there's no way someone could get cold with you laying on top of them." She retorted, her fingers trailing over his skin along the V-neck of his shirt.
"Damn, I was hoping you wouldn't notice that." He grinned at her, his eyes full of something akin to adoration, that was infectious, making her grin just as wide as he did.
"Surprisingly I liked it." Emma admitted, pulling away from him as it was time to get on the Ferris wheel.
"You're not afraid of heights are you?" Killian questioned as helped her into their car.
"I'm only afraid of falling." Emma told him, meeting his eyes as she sat down beside him, fiddling with buckling her seatbelt. She kept saying little comments that held double meanings and she felt certain that he got what she was meant.
"That's understandable." Killian curled his arm around her, his fingers brushing over the curve of her shoulder as the car began to slowly rise off the ground. "The water looks gorgeous today."
"It's the perfect color of blue." Emma whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder. The water was the color of his eyes, bright and blue and hopeful. She hadn't realized that his eyes were that color of blue, until she'd mentioned how she always tried to stay close to the water, if it were at all possible. He was a sailor, he spent his life at sea, and she was only the tiniest bit jealous of that fact. He would never be landlocked.
They sat in silence, enjoying the slow moving ride and the sights that stretched as far as the eye could see. And as they rose higher, they became far more interested in the sight sitting beside them. Emma's fingers wound through his hair, cradling the back of his head as she kissed him. She melted against him, as well as she could with the hindrance of their safety belts. She could drown in his lips and the way they left her feeling heady and breathless.
Killian's tongue brushed across her bottom lip and her lips parted, permitting him the entrance he'd wordlessly requested. She groaned softly against his mouth, breaking from the kiss long enough to catch her breath, before she was kissing him again. She was fairly confident when she thought that she could spend all day kissing him like this.
After tomorrow he'd be gone. All she would have was the memory of how he'd made her feel.
The thirty minute ride ended far too quickly for her liking. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her chest, she could heart it thumping in her ears. Her legs felt like Jell-O as they got off the ride and she held to his hand tighter than before.
"You thirsty?" Killian questioned, nodding his head in the direction of a slushy stall. "I'll buy."
Emma grinned at him her brows quirking upwards, "You ought to buy, you're part of the reason I'm so thirsty." She gave him a pointed look.
"Hey, you weren't complaining." Killian retorted, sweeping his tongue out along his bottom lip, which seemed to design to catch her attention. "I mean, you started it after all."
Emma snorted, barely able to contain the laughter that bubbled up in the back of her throat. "You're ridiculous, I hope you realize that."
Killian grinned at her. "I'm vaguely aware of that fact."
"I'm glad we're in agreement." She wiggled her eyebrows at him, "Wouldn't want you thinking that you were anything but ridiculous." Emma laughed at the face he pulled, loving the way it felt to just be at ease with someone, to laugh and have a good time. She felt young again, bright-eyed and hopeful. He'd been right – she had needed this break.
"Do you like the blue flavor?" Killian questioned as they approached the stall.
"I love the blue." Emma replied, releasing her hold on his hand so he could get his wallet out. "I would have to worry about you if you didn't like the blue."
Killian flashed her a cheeky grin, "I could say the same about you."
Emma laughed as she rustled around in her purse for her cellphone. She had another text message from her mysterious unknown number. She eyed Killian as he stepped ahead of her to buy their drink, wondering if he had anything to do with the texts she was getting. But it was impossible, she was just looking for another excuse to be wary. She sighed, swiping the text message open to read it.
[Unknown Number] A friend of yours gave me your number. Technically I stole her phone and found the number after she mentioned your name. Do you have a son?
[Text] I don't know what you're talking about or who you are. Leave me alone.
She could practically feel the color drain from her face, her pulse thumping loudly in her ears as she stared at the text message. No one knew about her baby – her son. She hadn't even held him. She didn't know what he looked like. No one knew.
The only person she could think of having given her number to someone was Mary Margaret, who had never been one to understand the concept of privacy. But she didn't know about the baby, for that reason alone. She couldn't risk someone finding out.
[Text] I don't know how you know about that. His adoption was closed. Please don't contact me again.
"You okay, love?"
Emma's eyes snapped up from her phone, her brows furrowing. "I'm fine."
"You don't look fine."
She bristled, "Seriously, I'm fine Killian." Emma insisted, her gaze dropping to her phone once more as another text message came through. She expected it to be her mystery texter, but instead it was Mary Margaret.
[Mary Margaret] I didn't hear back from you this morning, so I guess you're still asleep. Here are some obligatory pictures of all of us! David says hello! So does Henry – that's Regina's kid. He's the dark haired one in the pictures.
The images came through as she read the message and she tapped on the first one to swipe through the rest.
"Family?"
Emma shook her head, "No, it's a friend of mine's family." Her heart was pounding in her chest as she looked down at the last picture in the set. A dark messy haired boy, with a lopsided grin, and dark brown eyes. She clicked off the pictures, scrolling back up to where Mary Margaret had explained the situation to her. He had been adopted. She and Mary Margaret were roughly the same age, if Regina had adopted the kid when Mary Margaret had left – that would have been around the same time that she'd…
"Emma, seriously what's wrong?" Killian questioned, his voice laced with concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Are you okay?"
"It's fine. It's fine." She insisted as she tucked her phone into her purse again, her fingers shaking noticeably. "I can't do this." Emma whispered, her eyes widening as they met his. "Killian."
His brows knit together and he reached out and caught her trembling hand. "Emma, you're freaking me out here, love. What did your friend send you?"
Emma swallowed back the lump in her throat, "The boy… in that last picture." Killian nodded slowly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles over the back of her hand. "Can we sit down?"
Killian squeezed her hand, nodding his head, before leading her over to the closest bench. "It's alright, love." He assured her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, holding her close to his side.
"It's really not." Emma whispered, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. Maybe this was the reason he was here with her this weekend. Otherwise she'd be a complete and utter nervous wreck right now. "My past just cropped back up and…" Her words ran dry.
"Is it carnival guy?" Killian questioned, keeping his voice low and a gentle.
"No, it's not him… but it's related to him." She chewed on her bottom lip, debating over whether or not she told tell him or not. "I'm going to end up telling you all my deepest darkest secrets, you know." She gave a strained laugh. "You'll know too much, I'll have to kill you." Emma said pitifully.
Killian pressed a kiss to the side of her head, leaving his lips there as he spoke, "I'll take it all to my grave, I promise you."
"I have a son." Emma all but blurted out. She didn't give him a chance to comment on it either. "I was a teenager, without a home, without a family – I was scared and alone and I still had a few months left of prison, so I gave him up for adoption. I thought it was a closed file, especially since I was a minor… That kid in the picture, I think he's my son."
"Why do you think that?" Killian questioned when she finally gave him a second to speak.
Emma shifted, pulling her phone out of her purse, tapping the unlock code and pulling up the text messages from the mysterious number. "I started getting these today. It makes sense though. Mary Margaret said he was adopted around the same time I would have had my son… Plus, he looks so much like his father."
Killian tilted his head to look at her, holding her gaze, "You need to text him back and not sound so mean. He's just a kid."
"Did I sound that mean?"
"Mhm. Rather." Killian took the phone from her hand, "How about we ask him what his name is?"
"Oh, are you going to text him for me?"
Killian grinned at her, "I'm pretty good with kids." He informed her.
"So what's your name, lad?"
"Say kid."
"Kid it is then."
[Text] So what's your name kid?
"Not so hard, huh?." Killian nudged her in the ribs, giving her a look.
[Unknown Number] Henry. So is this really my birth mom?
Emma laughed softly, her lashes fluttering as she stared down at the phone. "Tell him maybe. Ask him if he knows where he was adopted from."
"See, look at that you're doing fine." Killian assured her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before turning his attention back to the phone.
[Text] There's a chance I might be. Do you know where you were adopted from?
[Unknown Number] Arizona.
"Oh my God." Emma breathed out, glancing towards Killian. "I know enough about the woman who adopted him to know that this won't play out well. She hates Mary Margaret and everyone she knows."
"How is she going to find out who he's texting?" Killian narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you going to tell him yes?"
"I don't know." Emma admitted. "It's not like I'm going to rush off up to Maine to connect with him. I gave him up because I didn't want him."
"Emma."
"Killian." She retorted back, elbowing him I the ribs. "What do you propose I do?"
"Talk to him." Killian urged her. "What would you do if your parents texted you?"
"I would probably yell at them for leaving their newborn on the side of the road."
"Touché. I'm sorry that happened to you, love." Killian whispered, stroking her arm gently. "I don't even have a rationale for why someone would do that to their kid."
"Twenty-seven odd years and I haven't even come up with a decent excuse for them. At least I had the sense to put him up for adoption and keep him out of the system." Emma looked back down at the phone, chewing on her bottom lip. "My fingers are still shaking."
"Do you want me to keep texting for you?" Killian questioned, tilting his head as he looked towards her.
"If you don't mind." Emma chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You know, if you weren't here right now, I wouldn't be doing this. I'd just ignore his texts and keep running from that part of my life."
"Seems like this little weekend of ours was perfectly planned." He drawled out with a warm smile that made her heart flutter.
"You're a good man, Killian." Emma whispered, her voice wavering as she inhaled a shaky breath. "A lesser man would have jumped ship already."
"Why? Because you have a past, just like every other person in this bloody world? Love, you've got to start surrounding yourself with better men." Killian told her, his fingers playing through her hair.
"I don't think I can find another you." Emma retorted before she could stop herself. Her cheeks flushed red and she ducked her head. "Sorry, that was a stupid thing to say, I'm just stress-"
Killian cut her off with a kiss, smiling against her lips. "I understand, love." He whispered, brushing his lips against hers, cupping her cheek gently. "I know what you mean."
"Good." Emma brushed her fingers over his stubbly jawline, bumping her nose against his before she pulled back, looking down at her phone. "Tell the kid that it's nice to hear from him and that I'm glad he has a good life and… that I don't think it's a good idea for us to talk."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
[Text] I'm glad you've got a good life and that you reached out to me, but I don't think it's best if we talk, kid.
He handed the phone back to her with a reassuring wink. "There you go."
"Thank you." Emma said sincerely, glancing down at her phone as it vibrated. She swiped the message open, her brows furrowing as she read the message. "He said okay." Emma lied, adverting her gaze as she tucked the phone away in her purse. That was far from what the message said, he'd told her that he was unhappy and that he wanted to run away from Regina. Nurture versus nature – he sounded just like her.
"Excellent." Killian squeezed her leg. "Ready to keep walking around?"
"I need that slushy first." Emma forced a grin, holding her hand out for the drink. She needed a hit of sugar to boost the mood she was sinking into. "Then we can go play games before we head back to the apartment."
"Think we can swing the motel I'm staying at to grab my luggage?"
Emma pursed her lips, "I don't know, I was planning on holding you hostage in this one outfit."
"That's cruel." Killian laughed, "I have to make sure I have my uniform when I leave town."
"Shh, let's not talk about you leaving." She scrunched up her nose, slurping on the straw. "We can get your stuff if you win me something."
"Oh, I'll win you something, one way or the other." Killian promised.
And he followed through. They left the carnival an hour later with Killian carrying a giant stuffed Captain Hook. It only took twenty bucks and ten different games to finally win her something, but he was bound and determined to be a man of his word, even when she told him he didn't have to keep wasting money on her.
By the time they drove across the city, got his luggage, and drove back across the city to her apartment, night had fallen over Boston.
"Unless you want to make us pancakes again, we're going to have to order delivery." Emma told him as she unlocked her apartment, holding the door open for him as he dragged his suitcase and the giant plushie into her place. "Thanks for winning me my new cuddle buddy." She teased as she shut the door behind her, dropping her keys off on the kitchen counter.
"Don't replace me with him until after Monday."
Emma pursed her lips, "I don't know," She looked between him and the stuff man, "He's pretty sexy, I might not be able to resist."
"So you have a thing for perms and waxed mustaches."
"Maybe!" She laughed, running her fingers through her hair. "Peter Pan just happens to be my favorite Disney movie."
Killian dropped his suitcase off beside the sofa, turning back around with a pensive look as he looked her up and down. "Makes sense. Given what I know about you now."
Emma grimaced, "You know way too much about me now. It's a miracle that you're still here."
"I told you, I liked a challenge. You're a pretty big challenge."
She laughed, rolling her eyes at the stupid face he made. "Alright weirdo, what do you want to get delivered? Pizza? Chinese? Thai?"
Killian scratched at his chin thoughtfully, "Pizza. I'm starving though, so order two and we can eat the left overs for breakfast."
Emma scoffed as she stepped into the kitchen to grab the menu. "I was expecting breakfast in bed tomorrow."
He grinned at her, "I can reheat the pizza and bring it to you in bed." Killian told her, his eyes sparking with mischief.
"What a gentleman." She said dryly, pressing her tongue to the inside of her cheek. "What do you want on your pizza?"
Killian tilted his head, "What do you eat on yours?"
Emma shrugged, "Depends. I'm not a huge fan of meat on my pizza though, the spices are way too much."
"Do you like white pizza?"
"Are you sure you're not gay?"
Killian narrowed his eyes, "Did I fuck like a gay man? Wait don't answer that, I don't want to know."
Emma laughed, "Definitely not." She assured him, a grin lighting up every feature on her face. "I love white pizza. I'll get us one of those and a cheese and mushroom pizza."
"Order quick, I'm starving. I might die of hunger."
"So dramatic." Emma said with no small amount of sass as she watched him flop down on her sofa, acting like he'd been shot or something. "You seemed so normal last night."
"There's no preambles now, I can just be myself." He called to her as she went into the bedroom for her laptop, returning to join him on the sofa. "Oh, so you're one of those people?"
"What people?" Emma questioned, eyeing him out of the corner of her eye as she logged onto the pizza website to place their order.
"You could have just called them."
Emma kicked his leg, "Shut up. I like watching the little meter that tells me they've finished making it." She told him, gesturing to her computer screen. "Come on, it's cool, you have to admit it."
"What do I get if I admit it?"
"Are we on some sort of reward system now or something?"
Killian gave her a look, "You started it with your offer of getting my clothes if I won you something."
Emma snorted, "Yeah and I told you after half an hour you could quit and I'd still get you your clothes."
"Then you would have held it over me that I'd failed you."
"Sure I would have, buddy." Emma retorted with no small amount of sass in her voice.
"You wouldn't have teased me about not being able to knock those bottles down? Because I'm fairly certain you did tease me for not being able to knock them down." Killian nudged her in the ribs. "But that's alright, because I get to tease you about ordering delivery online."
"It's super normal." Emma feigned offense. "I didn't see you whipping your phone out to order."
"You pretty much told me not to learn your address, how would I have ordered pizza?" He cleared his throat, putting on his best attempt at an American accent, "Just, um, deliver the goods to the parking lot of a place somewhere in Boston. I'm being held hostage by this woman who orders pizza online."
Emma gave him an unimpressed look, even as she found herself starting smile at the ridiculous look he was wearing. "Keep talking Killian and you're going to find yourself on the sofa tonight."
Killian grinned at her, "Oh, the sofa was very kind to me last night."
Emma scrunched up her nose, shaking her head. "I see why you're single now. At first I was trying to figure out why a handsome guy like you was single, but now I get it. You're weird."
"You haven't had that much an issue with me being weird. You must be special." He drawled out, leaning close to her, almost close enough to kiss her, but neither of them bridged the gap.
"Maybe I'm crazy too." Emma offered, her eyebrows quirking upwards with the suggestion. "I mean crazy attracts crazy after all."
"Is that the saying?" He questioned, "Maybe you made me crazy."
Emma pushed her fingers through his hair, ruffling up his dark hair, before she turned her attention back to her laptop. "Look at that, they've put our pizzas into the oven."
"Fascinating." Killian gestured to the laptop, "Do you have Netflix on that?"
"What next – are you going to ask for my Wi-Fi password too?" Emma handed the laptop to him, "Here you can queue up whatever you want us to watch while we eat. I'll go grab us a beer."
"We have shit service on the ship. I'm behind in Game of Thrones."
Emma gave him a look, "Depending how behind you are, I'm pretty behind myself."
Killian eyed her as she got off the sofa, "Last thing I saw was the bear scene."
"That's about where I stopped watching 'cause work got busy."
He arched a brow, "Do guys really jump their bail that often?"
"You'd be surprised." She commented as she headed into the kitchen, grabbing both of them a beer, before she returned to the living room. "How's the pizza doing?"
"Delivery boy Joseph has it in a car." Killian looked up at her, "Don't worry, I didn't look at your address."
"Good." She said as she sat down beside him, passing a beer his direction. "See, this is what I'm talking about, I could deal with something like this in my life."
"What?"
"Beer, pizza, and Netflix."
"Alone?"
Emma smirked, "Maybe, maybe with someone."
"Ah, so have I got you out of your slump."
She shrugged, "I guess." Truth be told, after he was gone, no matter how amazing this weekend had been, now she was ruined for other guys. She wasn't going to find herself another Irish Naval officer, who got her on a level no one else ever had.
Killian reached over and squeezed her hand, "You've helped me too." He had to be an idiot if he hadn't heard how halfhearted her answer had been.
"I'm sure you'll find yourself a great girl in your next port." She stated, shaking his hand off hers. "But let's not talk about that. I don't share and for right now, you're still mine."
"This possessive thing of yours, it's incredibly hot."
Emma laughed, "I'm glad someone thinks so." She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, nipping playfully at the curve of his jaw, before she was off the sofa and answering her door. She returned a minute later with the pizza boxes. "Here you are hungry man."
"Thanks beautiful." He said to her as he took the boxes from her, opening them both up and laying them out on the coffee table in front of them. "Does your computer hook-up to your t.v.?"
"There's an HDMI cord over there." She told him, platting up their pizza for them. "Netflix works better than that damn cable."
"It's better than nothing."
"I can't even imagine being out at sea without entertainment, I mean… when I lose power it's bad enough." She leaned back against the sofa, "I always wanted to live on a boat."
"It has its ups and downs." Killian informed her as he joined her on the sofa again, biting off a mouthful of pizza as he turned the episode on. "Depending on where you go, it's pretty easy to get cut off from society."
"Have you gone to the Middle East?"
He shook his head, "Just the islands, east and west coasts, and a brief stint in Japan."
Emma gave him a sidelong look, "You're going to have to put your uniform on for me before this weekend is over."
Killian laughed, "Oh, have you got a thing for a man in uniform?"
"What do you think?" Emma retorted, turning her head to give him a heated look. "I'll try not to ruin it."
"Please don't. I do not need to get in trouble for that."
"Wouldn't want you to be reprimanded by anyone but me."
Killian gave her an incredulous look, "I'm really starting to worry about what you're going to do with me tonight."
"Just you wait."
Once the pizza was packed away in the fridge for tomorrow and their empty bottles were thrown away in the trashcan, they returned to the sofa to finish off their third episode of Game of Thrones. Instead of acting on her mischievous promises to him, Emma fell asleep on a pillow on his lap, while he played with her hair. Maybe that was what they really needed from another person. Someone to ride Ferris wheels and play carnival games with: someone to curl up on the sofa and watch shows with.
She dreamt of driving down by the coast with Killian in the passenger seat and the boy from the picture in the backseat. Killian and Henry were teasing each other about Captain Hook and Peter Pan – talking about some sword fight the two of them had had with wooden swords they picked up from some museum gift shop. She was happy – listening to the two of them go at it with each other, their playful little jabs making her laugh again and again.
The two of them faded away and the laughter became silence. She was alone in her bug with her box of belongings in the passenger seat. Even her dreams reminded her that she was better off alone. He was going to be gone in two days and Henry – well, she had no intention of ever seeing the kid in person.
It was better that way.
Emma woke up, rising from his lap slowly, not wanting to wake him up. She grabbed the blanket off the back of the sofa, draping it over him as she rose to get up.
"Emma."
"It's okay Killian." Emma whispered, her fingers brushing over his cheek, smiling fondly at the half asleep man.
He blindly reached for her hand, "Stay with me." He asked her, "I won't hog the covers."
Emma laughed softly, chewing on her bottom lip. "I can't do this Killian. I'm afraid of falling." She told him, her breath catching in the back of her throat as his eyes snapped open, those hazy blue eyes of his meeting hers.
"Having a broken heart isn't a bad thing Emma, because it means it still works." It might have sounded harsh to others, but that made complete sense to her.
"I'm going to bed." She muttered, ducking her head as she steered herself towards her bedroom. "Come with me." Emma said, lingering in the doorway, relieved to hear the shuffle of his feet as he came to join her.