A/N: The boat mentioned in this chapter is an actual boat. It was the trawler my father worked on before the cod industry shut down. I took some artistic liberty- the boat was a cod trawler that worked off Greenland and a haddock trawler like I am picturing would probably be up near Brown's Bank, Nova Scotia, but essentially it is as real to life as I could make it and still have it fit the story. Enjoy and thank you for the lovely reviews!
Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.
Emma's phone was buzzing somewhere under the mountain of blankets she'd built over herself. She rooted around for the little machine, eyes still closed and head still buried, thumping her hands against the cotton sheets as she searched. If this was work calling her to cover another shift she wasn't answering. They could call Graham. He was the boss and he was off all weekend. Let him pick up the slack.
Emma had been sleeping off a long midnight to three double shift which involved chasing some idiot halfway across town on foot after he decided that it would be funny to try and steal some money off the table of a local bakery just after it opened. While Emma and David were there picking up breakfast. The guy had been faster than she'd expected when she took off on foot after him and she was winded by the time she rugby tackled him to the ground and cuffed him. Emma's sore legs had been very glad when David pulled up in their police car to take the robber to the station before she had to drag him all the way back to the shop.
"Emma Swan," she answered groggily when she located the phone and saw that it wasn't the station's number. She wriggled out from under the sheets, gulping cool air to try and wake herself up.
"You okay there, Swan?" Killian's voice drifted over the line, concerned at how raspy she sounded. Killian's lilting words did more to wake her up than a caffeine IV drip ever could.
Emma coughed to clear her throat and raked a hand over her eyes. "Yeah, sorry, I fell asleep after work. What's up?" Killian had never once called her since their reunion two weeks prior. He always texted. The fact that she was speaking to him directly caught her attention and made her pulse quicken.
"I was wondering if you could do me a favour?" The sounds of waves crashing echoed in the background of the call, a gull crying out from somewhere above Killian. Emma pursed her lips at the keening sound. It was Friday. Killian was supposed to be on shore for the weekend, not still out working.
"Sure, Jones," Emma answered, curious as to what she could do for him if he was still out on the boat.
"My friend bailed on picking me up at the docks because his daughter is sick. Would you mind coming and getting me?"
Emma pushed herself up and slipped into her shoes. A flare of excitement at the prospect of seeing Killian rushed through her. "Sure, when do you get in?" Emma asked, trying to keep her voice from betraying her eagerness.
"I'm in now." Emma could practically hear Killian cringe at the last minute nature of his request.
"Way to give me warning, Jones," she mumbled without thinking, moving to find her car keys.
"You don't have to come if you don't want to, Swan. I can walk." His immediate answer made Emma feel a bit guilty at her earlier words. She hadn't meant what she said. The statement was just a knee jerk reaction to people who didn't really care about her. She wasn't used to people being so concerned about what she wanted to do instead of what worked for them. Emma needed to remember that Killian was different.
"Don't be ridiculous," she quickly replied. "I'm already in my car." Emma set the phone on her knee while she started the engine so Killian could hear the rumble and know she was telling the truth. She brought the phone back up to her ear. "See you soon, Jones." Emma hung up and started for the dock.
The dock was busy when she reached it, Killian's boat- The Northern Osprey- having just gotten in and now in the process of unloading its catch. The Northern Osprey was a large blue and white painted metal trawler. Large mechanical doors were located at the stern which opened up to extend the fishing nets, rigged with pulleys and hydraulic haulers, when it was time to trawl. Men hurried across the deck as they worked to empty the hold of the catch which looked to Emma to be haddock or a similar type of ground fish. Water from the melting ice in the hold poured out of a hole in the bow of the boat, foam riling up in the water as the flow hit from its great height. Gulls swooped greedily towards the open hold doors, looking for a snack, only to glide upwards again when the sailors took angry swings at them. Some men were on the dock, still wearing worn work clothing but changed from their oil gear, as they adjusted the bow and stern lines for the boat, making sure they would stay secure over the weekend.
Emma scanned the dock for Killian, licking her bottom lip unconsciously when she noticed him moving up the dock, away from the boat, backpack slung over one shoulder. Killian scanned the area for Emma's car and heading straight for it when he noticed her. Emma hoped her position in her car would hide her staring as she watched him near her, an easy swagger to his movements. Killian wore a heavy flannel work coat over a fitted black Henley and worn jeans tucked into his old black boots. The silver necklace he wore hit against his chest every time he took a step, swinging freely and shining like a beacon in the setting sun. His hair was tucked into a bright orange knitted hat, pulled low on the back of his head so it flopped slightly. There was something different about him but Emma couldn't figure out what it was immediately.
When he slid into the seat of Emma's car with a smile she realized that two weeks ago he had had no facial hair. At the restaurant Killian was clean shaven. Now several days' worth of stubble covered his chin, giving him a rugged look that Emma couldn't help but enjoy. Killian looked good clean shaven but given the option Emma would rather he stay a little scruffy. She turned back to the windshield to stop herself from staring before he noticed.
"You forget your razor on land?" Emma asked as she concentrated on driving away from the dock without hitting any of the sailors who were carrying on as they left the boat, reveling in the idea of being on land for several days with no curfew, free to do as they wished. She dodged one pair that was having some sort of wrestling match, half on the road shoulder, half on the pavement, before turning away from the docks and towards the center of town.
"How do you know the scruff isn't an actual thing?" Killian asked as he tossed his bag into the backseat. Emma glanced at him, eyebrow raised as she waited for him to elaborate. Killian gave her a baleful grin. "I shaved for the date to try and impress the mysterious girl I was meeting. Didn't want to look like some sort of ship rat the first time she saw me."
"So you aren't trying to impress me anymore?" Emma forced her tone to be light, to hide the hurt she felt at the idea that she wasn't worth his time or the work it would take to impress her by shaving. She had never been worth anyone's extra effort. She was surprised she still got upset by that.
Emma bit down on her cheek until the pain focused her because she was the one who wanted to be friends. Friends didn't need to look nice for each other. Any picture of the weekend breakfasts Emma's friends had at her place would prove that.
"I'm always trying to impress you, Swan," Killian answered easily, smirk firmly in place, missing Emma's whirling thoughts. Emma made a show of rolling her eyes. She knew he was kidding but appreciated the gesture nevertheless.
"Where to?" Emma asked to move the conversation along. She was just driving, not sure where Killian lived or wanted to be dropped off.
"I think I have beer in the fridge at home. You want to stop by for a bit?"
"Thought I was supposed to buy the next beer," Emma replied, grinning at him.
Killian shrugged and pointed for her to turn up a small side road that branched off the main street. It was a residential street with only a few houses, none of which belonging to her other friends, so it wasn't one that Emma frequented. Killian instructed her to pull into the driveway of a large house that had been converted into apartments. The house was an old Victorian monstrosity with three floors and a large wrap around deck. It was painted a light sage green with darker green trim, the paint chipping off on the window sills from the bad weather the spring and summer had brought to Storybrooke. It was a nice place, not exactly what she had expected Killian to live in, but she guessed he didn't much care what his place looked like when he was rarely there.
"How about I order pizza and you get that?" Killian suggested as Emma parked.
"Only if I can pick the toppings," Emma shot back, glad she'd thought to bring her wallet with her.
"So demanding, lass. I like it." Killian raised a brow as he grabbed his backpack from the backseat and made for the front door.
Emma ignored the insinuation of his words and got out. "Wait until you see what I order before you decide that."
"As long as it's not anchovies," Killian laughed, opening the door and gesturing for Emma to enter. He led her up a wooden staircase to the top floor, a bright blue door waiting at the top of the staircase. The steps practically ended without any landing, as if the apartment wall had been erected without any remodelling to create a proper apartment entrance.
Emma mock pouted as she shed her coat and shoes by the door. "Pepperoni and cheese, please, Jones."
"Ah, the classics. I'm glad I can rely on your sophisticated palate." Emma wondered into the living room and sat herself down on a plain brown cloth couch while Killian called for a pizza.
Killian's apartment was cold from being left empty for several weeks but it wasn't musty considering his apartment was part of such an old house. The room felt clean, like a lab, with white walls and the basic necessities of a house- kitchen table, several spare chairs and a television mounted on the far wall- were all that it held. Actually, instead of a lab, the apartment felt like a place Emma would live in if Mary Margaret hadn't taken over the decorating of her bungalow. Two closed doors hinted at other areas of the apartment, branching off the large main room that served as both the living room and kitchen. Emma assumed led to a bathroom and a bedroom though the nondescript nature of the white doors offered no further clues as to which was which.
After hanging up the phone Killian threw himself down on the couch beside Emma, putting his feet up on the wooden coffee table in front of them. Killian had already shucked off his work jacket and hat, the removal of said item leaving his hair rumpled and disorganized. That made him look younger, more like the Killian she remembered from middle school. A pang of regret flashed through her for missing out on so much of Killian's life just because she was scared. He had grown up and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. About him. Emma leaned further back into the sofa, farther away from Killian.
Get it together, Emma. Think about pizza. Not about how Killian's appearance makes your insides clench with heat. Emma bit into her lip, concentrating on her thoughts and not on Killian. Think about Neal. A wave of pain shot through her at the memory of Neal's back as he slammed the door hard enough to chip the frame. She shut the thoughts down, feeling numb. There. No more feelings.
Killian touched Emma's arm when he realized she wasn't listening to him. Emma jumped and looked over at him. "What?"
"Are you okay?" Killian asked softly motioning to Emma's position. She glanced down at herself and realized she'd pushed herself so far into the sofa that she was sitting between two cushions.
"Yeah, no worries, Jones," Emma said quickly, extracting herself from the little cave she'd unknowingly dug.
"You know I don't believe you," Killian said turning to face her, concern twisting his face. "What happened to you, Swan?"
Emma made to get up and leave. She didn't want to talk about Neal. "Nothing." Killian caught her hand and tried to keep her against the sofa but Emma's need to run was growing too strong. She needed out. Between Killian's proximity and Neal's damage it was all too much. "I have to go. I'll leave a twenty on the counter for the pizza."
Emma turned and ran for the door before the tears could start. She was halfway down the stairs to her car when Killian caught her. Just like last time he held her fast.
"Swan, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed. Please don't go. I wanted to see you, have some fun and I ruined it." Killian's tone was full of disappointment and exasperation, the disappointment directed towards himself and the exasperation at her.
"You didn't ruin it. I just- I have to go." Emma stepped down the stairs again. Killian followed her, still not letting go.
"Please, Emma? I'm only around for this weekend before I'm gone for another two weeks." She knew Killian wouldn't beg for her to stay but she recognized the glint of loneliness in his eyes, the long dealt with abandonment. Emma was sure her eyes showed the same fears. Killian didn't want to be alone any more than Emma did when she was actually being honest with herself. Which she wasn't being.
"I'm sorry, Jones," Emma said thickly, her voice catching with her need to get out and crawl into bed and find oblivion for a while. The longer she stuck around the more it would hurt Killian.
"You have to stop running from me Emma. I'm not going to hurt you." Killian stopped and sighed. "Look, if I let you go will you please at least stop by before I leave Sunday night? All I'm asking for is a hello, I'm alive."
Killian let go of her wrist and Emma let herself have a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart. She blinked hard to dry the tears that had threatened to escape her conflicted body. She wanted to run but she didn't want to leave Killian. Maybe a bit of space was all she needed to clear her head.
"Tomorrow morning at eleven. My friends, we all have brunch at my place. You can come if you want."
Killian smiled; pleased she was letting him in again. Emma running out on him didn't even seem to bother him that much now that he knew she wasn't leaving for good. He understood that Emma needed her space, if only for a night. What had she ever done to deserve a friend like Killian? "Anything I need to bring?"
"Your forgiveness for a messed up old friend?" Emma asked quietly, glancing down at her feet.
Killian bent forward quickly and kissed her forehead. "Already granted. I'll bring donuts instead." Before Emma could react Killian turned and hurried back up to his apartment.
Emma lingered on the stairs stunned and alone until the pizza showed up. She quickly paid for it, realizing she'd forgotten to leave money and left while the delivery man continued up the stairs to Killian's apartment. It was still in a dazed state that she stumbled into her own place a little while later and even when she went to sleep that night she could still feel the warm pressure of Killian's lips against her hairline.