Thanks so much to the people who left me feedback, it helped a ton in getting me to whip up this chapter in an afternoon!
Verdicts passed and vows made in the wee hours of the night seem to dissipate much like the morning dew when enough sunshine has shamed them back into the realm of those late hours when our defenses are so much lower and our tempers so much easier to excite.
Whether Miss Swan realized that, and counted on it as she made her way down to Lady Ingrid's breakfast table, is something of a mystery. But one thing is for sure – she must have worried herself about being the beacon of attention into a state far beyond what was required, for Miss Anna Froster probably couldn't have contained herself from taking over that role even if asked to do so. And, thankfully, no one made such a request.
And thus, while she went on about Hans Islingtons' rather handsomeness and rather tallness that Emma (and probably everyone else because people characterized by their tallness then to have that effect on others) had observed the night before, her aunt was free to enjoy the glow on her cheeks and the eagerness of her quick, and often unfinished, phrases and had only to ask her, from time to time, to take a breath and a bite and so got to enjoy her hearty appetite as well; her sister got to enjoy much the same things with much more composure and some reserve, while at the same time contemplating the exact number of days she had to wait to start probing Emma with questions about Captain Liam Jones so as to minimize the chances of her friend's teasing her for it; and Emma got to breathe easily for the first time since she had woken up and decided on pretending that the previous evening had been much like any other evening, and thus got the chance to forget for a bit her own self and to immerse herself in Anna's obvious giddiness and Elsa's which she was probably thinking everyone oblivious to.
"I have decided what we shall do today!"
Elsa's surprise had more to do with Emma's enthusiastic tone than the words that had come with it. Emma was no stranger to knowing precisely what she wanted to do and leaving the fewest opportunities possible for others to intervene with her wishes or control how she spent her time in any way.
"Have you now? Aunt and Anna have been not five minutes out of the door in their badly veiled pursuit of further intelligence about Mr Islington and you have already formed a scheme for us as well?"
"If you must know, I was hard at "scheming" while we were at breakfast and Anna was describing the precise shade of Mr Islington's eyes for the fourth time."
"Emma!"
"I swear, this will be my sole commentary on that "predestined meeting, scribbled in the stars"."
"And yet."
"Oh, well, my only two then. Would you like to tempt me away from quoting your sister by learning how your time will be occupied today?"
"Am I to be nothing but a listener in this story of my immediate future then?"
" I suppose you can contribute some of your stoic brilliance as well, if you would just uncross your arms and stop pinning me to the wall with those fine eyes the exact shade of-"
"Oh, do save us both and just reveal your wicked little plan, will you?"
Miss Froster had perfected a particular visage for those exact situation, a perfect arrangement of her features that communicated to Emma that she was listening carefully and agreeing to nothing as of yet. But she did let her arms drop to her side (for all the good that it did when they next came to rest firmly against her hips at Emma's pronouncement).
"We are to intrude on Mr and Mrs Nolan and take the bothersome captains staying with them off their hands."
"How kind of us! Yet, I'm afraid, you will be challenged by their prior engagements, for I know that Captain Jones is to look over some potential hunting grounds with Mr Nolan and Captain Killian Jones is to help Mrs Nolan rearrange her library."
Emma waved her hand dismissively as she was already making her way around her friend's room and preparing her for a day among nature.
"You underestimate Mary-Margaret's desire to have Jones breathe something other than book dust and, what better way for Liam to mark some good hunting spots but a nice, long walk?"
"I'm quite sure this is not how-"
"Elsa. Do you wish us to discuss the fact that I'm positive I saw you sniff Captain Jones' shoulder during your second dance las-"
"On second thought, the weather is rather wonderful today!"
And thus, with only some foul play on Miss Swan's part, we could have seen those two ladies make their way out of Lady Ingrid's residence and in the direction of the Nolans' without any further interruptions.
But when interruption is meant to appear, it has the most precise timing of all forces. Relief delays and dawdles endlessly, Destiny forgets its hat three times in the least and Serendipity sometimes never even makes it out of the house but Interruption – Interruption you can count on when you least want it and should thus the most expect it.
Today, for Miss Swan and Miss Froster, Interruprtion came in the shape of Mr Neal Gold, who – it would appear – had finally decided to honour at least some customs and call on his partner from the night before.
It is unclear to the unenlightened observer, if he had meant to see her or merely leave his card but it is safe to presume that he had not meant to quite literally run into her and even less so to be the one more thrown off balance by the small collision and the one in need of a pair of stabilizing hands.
Yet, there they were. Miss Froster's eyes quite wide, Miss Swan's hands on their could-have-been guest's shoulders and Mr Gold's mouth hanging open somewhat endearingly, somewhat unflatteringly and quite sheepishly.
"Ah, Miss Swan! I was just-"
One of Miss Emma Swan's multiple peculiarities was that she had caught wind of Relief and Destiny and, especially, Serendipity's fickleness and thus had no patience with them. And she had, in her hasty way, lumped poor punctual Interruption along with them and had very little tolerance for it as well.
"Oh, yes, of course! Very kind of you to call but – as you can so clearly and perhaps, somewhat painfully – are you quite alright? Yes, well, as you see, we are on our way out so perhaps we will have the chance to meet again at some other time. Not quite so suddenly."
Mr Gold either had no experience with being so dismissed or was still somewhat stunned by the form in which their greeting had come. Perhaps both. Perhaps neither. We do not care much and neither seemed to Miss Swan.
So with a "Splendid! Have a lovely day!" she reached for Elsa's hand and tugged her around the still flummoxed gentleman on their doorstep.
"I suppose I must thank you for taking such a weight off my shoulders."
Emma narrowed her eyes and looked sideways at Captain Killian Jones, who was walking a couple of feet to her left and a solid twenty paces ahead of the rest of their party, which consisted of Miss Froster and Captain Liam Jones – souls for whose ankles Killian held some non-unjustified concern, based on the way they failed to observe anything in their surroundings but the presence of the other.
"I know you have set a trap for me and yet I shall walk into it. What does that make me?"
"In the hunting terms you have adopted – a very intelligent yet easy prey."
With a non-committal hum, Emma debated the prospects of her being prey and the very real possibility of her being the hunter.
"So what have I unburdened you from?" she asked eventually, taking the bait, true to her word.
"Well, seeing as you have followed in my brother's meddling footsteps, I no longer feel such a pressure to do so myself. Not that I ever had the least intention or potential for it."
"'Meddle' is such a harsh word, Captain. You do me and your brother both a disservice."
"On the contrary, Miss Swan. While I have no taste for it myself and find it rather testing in others most of the time, I cannot help but somewhat admire people who can meddle effortlessly and, what is more, successfully."
"Don't you go and jinx me now, Jones," Emma glanced behind them with a tentative smile. "Besides, better to meddle harmlessly with others than make blunders of my own."
If Emma had made a list of topics which she wished to discuss with Captain Jones, it would have been extensive and excluded few things. One of which she had just dragged out of the woods herself and laid down at their feet to trip over when the day had been progressing some smoothly.
She feared no one's consternation, yet she most certainly did not enjoy Elsa's and she somewhat expected David's but the one that had her stomach all in knots was certainly, embarrassingly but undeniably, Killian's.
A glance at the man in question showed his profile in the early afternoon light, not quite brooding but definitely thoughtful. Not quite provoking but definitely breath-taking. It ushered Emma into a memory she was all too happy to entertain and let take her away from the present moment and any possibility of her trampling further into a conversation she was most eager to avoid.
Miss Swan had met Mrs Nolan on her very first visit to Storybrooke and from then on the place and the woman herself were entangled together in her mind as one warm, sweetly welcoming whole. It was the quickest true friendship Emma had ever cultivated. Indeed she had no notion of even having planted it properly when Mary-Margaret was already offering her its fruits. It seemed that no time had passed between receiving her very first undeniably-kind-and-well-meaning-yet-unnervingly-personal-and-perceptive question and meeting Mr Nolan.
And while she loved Mary-Margaret with every part of her, even if some of those parts still couldn't quite believe such purity could exist, it was her relationship with David that had progressed into something almost parental – a kind of trust and solidity that Emma had only ever found in Ingrid and yet never quite with such an undercurrent of understanding that the Nolan's gifted her.
And then, one June morning, about two years ago to her reckoning, at the Nolan's breakfast table, Emma had set down her fork, turned to the door that had just burst open and thought that perhaps all her acquaintances at the Nolan's were meant to surpass each other in intensity and defy all her expectations and resolutions about being a politely uninterested member of society.
Impression 1 of Captain Killian Jones: the handsomest man Emma Swan had (back then and still at the present moment of her recalling that memory) lived to see.
Then had come the startled blue gaze, the brisk assessment of her person, the thinned lips and the perfectly civil and even more perfectly cold apologies and introductions.
Impression 2 of Captain Killian Jones: the rudest man (perhaps a somewhat hasty assertion but in no way entirely and resolutely disproved for another couple of months at the least) Emma Swan had lived to meet.
But then, of course-
Impression 3 of Captain Killian Jones: the smartest man (and thus, as he himself had once put it, "quite the challenge") Emma Swan had lived to banter with.
"People like calm waters because they can swim in them. Yet no one admires a small spring like they do a waterfall."
Emma shook herself back into the present, where the light was still making Killian appear warmer than she had known him to be in those two years she had known him. Or perhaps that was the influence of his brother's presence. Or perhaps-
"On the whole," Captain Jones continued calmly, talking to her and to the horizon at the same time, as if giving her the opportunity to take what he was saying to heart or leave it in the dust beside their path. "I have come to believe, like many others before me have and many more will, I'm sure, that we regret so many things we didn't say or do, that we have hardly any time to regret the ones we did."
If you have ever spent an afternoon walking a forest path, you'd know how the light plays between the leaves even more than the wind does, how it bounces and teases and deceives. You'd understand why Emma, already caught off guard by seeing Captain Killian Jones's smile, albeit a small one, for no more than the fifth time in her life, was dubious whether or not his gaze truly had flickered to her lips when he had turned to her.
And if-
"Oi!"
Ah, Interruption. Just on time. As always.
Captain Jones's hand flew to the back of his head as Miss Swan's none too happy gaze flew behind them and it gave her little satisfaction to see Elsa's elbow make contact with Liam's arm.
"Apologies, little brother," his voice boomed strong and coated in mirth from quite a distance away. "But we must know, if we should stop here, from fear of losing our hearing after some point up ahead that you and Miss Swan seem to have crossed."
Despite his huffs of displeasure, Killian turned around and, offering Miss Swan his arm, led them back towards his brother.
"I believe we wish to make our way back no more than you do but, alas, we must, for Mrs Nolan will be expecting us all for dinner and you, dear brother, still have half a library to arrange."
Were the older captain's teasing less apparent, his brother might have taken some offense. As it was, he and Emma overtook and surpassed the other couple with only a single comment.
"I know you are not greatly acquainted with them, Liam, but books generally tend to remain where you've left them."