Chapter Twelve: On Top of the World
The whole sleepy little town appears transformed when they arrive at the fair that evening and walk down the normally deserted main street, this night a vibrant midway full of games and rides and food stands. It is all Emma can do to get Henry to at least have a hot dog before he clamors to try every kind of sweet he lays eyes on, from cotton candy and ice cream to elephant ears and fried Twinkies. Their FBI protectors are suddenly much less help than she would have hoped, between Ruby breaking off bits of her funnel cake and feeding Henry bites of it dipped in raspberry jam, and Killian looking on laughingly and then presenting Henry his own tri-colored bag of cotton candy.
"Jamie White!" she screeches, managing just in time to use his new name. "Don't you dare eat all that!" Emma tries, hoping to retain some bit of stern authority. "You will have nothing but a stomachache after that much sugar." But when he son turns to look at her, beaming with pink and blue crystals of spun sugar stuck to the corners of his mouth and powdered sugar dusted on his chin, she breaks out laughing along with the other two adults.
"I'll be fine, Mama. Promise," he chirps happily. He's already practically bouncing alongside the three of them, and Emma shakes her head, even as she revels in his giddy excitement.
"A little sugar never hurt anyone," Ruby joins in cajolingly, elbowing Emma playfully as she does so.
"Really?" Emma jibes back. "In that case, you can be the one who stays up with him all night while he bounces off the walls on a sugar high."
The brunette merely shrugs, chuckling lightly and seeming unperturbed by Emma's half-hearted threat. "I know you're right, but it's almost worth it to see him so excited. He's such a calm, grown-up little guy most of the time; it's fun to see him act like a kid. He deserves a day like this after all the changes we've put him through," Ruby muses, looking after her charge with a gentle smile, as Henry walks just ahead of them, jabbering to Killian about all the sounds and flashing lights around them. The younger woman's voice drops to a much lower tone so as not to be overheard, but Emma also thinks she catches a bit of subdued guilt in the pretty agent's deep brown eyes.
Responding easily, with an openness that surprises her, as it hasn't come easily for her for most of her life, Emma moves to walk more closely with her new friend, linking her arm through Ruby's and murmuring lowly. "Are you kidding?!" She shakes her head. "There is no way you should be feeling bad when you and Killian have saved both of our lives at least twice already and probably will again." She shudders a bit at the thought, but presses on. "Besides, granted, my baby boy is pretty mature for his age, but he's been having a great time ever since we moved to this place. He thinks he's on some great big adventure…and he loves you, Ruby, in case you hadn't noticed." She gives the other woman a sideways grin, to which Ruby responds in kind, a grateful look on her face.
"That's nice of you to say, Maggie," she adds, remembering to use the correct identity with a professional ease that continues to amaze Emma. "Thanks. I hope you're right… He's such a good kid."
Emma pats the brunette's arm before letting go and resuming her normal stride, truly touched by the agent's words. "Thank you, Ruby," she adds. "I've always thought so."
Their attention is drawn by a squeal of delight from Henry, a momentary sound of scuffling, and then Killian darts past them, the boy riding on his shoulders and chortling with such merry glee that one would bet he has never had such fun. With their boys taking off ahead of them, Emma and Ruby hasten their steps to keep up, curious to see what Killian has in mind. They can see Henry over the heads of the crowd, so the pair are not at all hard to follow.
She can't help an entertained giggle when she and Ruby catch up and she sees where Killian has stopped. Crouched in front of the Milk Bottle Toss booth, Killian is face to face with Henry, conferring with the boy as if they are discussing the most serious matter known to man. She bites the inside of her cheek, trying not to laugh at their dangerously handsome, lethally trained and world weary protector with his head bowed toward her son's, eyes alight with mischief, making plans on how to outsmart a carnival carney's game. She shouldn't be tempted to tease him at all; it's incredibly kind that he is going out of his way to make her little boy happy, even if it appears to be through something as silly as winning a ridiculously huge and obnoxiously colored stuffed animal in a game that is completely rigged against them. The way he naturally and without prompting treats Henry as an equal instead of a chore or an encumbrance truly does make her heart pound in a way she knows better than to focus on.
Their little conference seemingly over, Killian stands abruptly, his back straight, manner confident, even sending Henry a conspiratorial wink as the stand's attendant hands him the heavy wooden balls – five in all – that he throws for his chances to win. Emma and Ruby have now moved up to stand off to the side, but even with Killian and Henry where they can watch. Killian notices her standing to his left and shoots her a mischievous look, wiggling his heavy, dark eyebrows playfully. She gets the immediate sense that this particular skill is child's play for him, and that he is taking them all in for fun. It only amuses her that much more, and she watches, intrigued for his con to unfold.
Winding his arm back, Killian releases the first throw, which flies through the air at impressive speed only to completely miss the artfully stacked tower of bottles. Henry looks up at his partner in crime, mouth falling open in both stunned surprise and some obvious disappointment. Emma raises her brows, a silent look that broadcasts teasingly, 'Really? Is that all ya got?', when he glances over his shoulder at her.
He shrugs as if responding, 'Well, what can I say?', but throws her a cheeky grin as well before turning to take up the next ball. He goes completely still, focused, for a moment, then slings back and throws once more, this one equally as fast, but also unerringly accurate and taking off the top two rows of the pile and two bottles from the third. Without hesitating, he picks up the third ball, rears back once more, and in seemingly less than a blink, he has demolished the rest of the third row and taken half the bottom one as well.
Emma can't miss her little boy's excitement now; Henry is hopping on his toes and practically wriggling. Though he doesn't make a sound, he looks ready to burst. She can see him aching to yell out encouragement and root for the next two throws, but he stays quiet, as if he thinks he will ruin the agent's concentration.
Killian looks almost relaxed as he sets his stance and lets fly his next-to-last attempt. It arches more gently than Jones's previous two shots, as if he hasn't put enough force behind it. Emma's observation proves true when it glances off the remaining bottles without upsetting a single one.
"Oh no!" Henry calls out, appearing unable to stop his little burst of dismay. However, Killian appears unfazed, and Emma is struck once again by the thought that he has a definite plan unfolding, only heightened by the way he cuts his eyes over to where she and Ruby are watching and sends her a smirk. The cool exterior is disrupted, however, when Henry sees he still has one last shot, though it's difficult – all or nothing – and cheers him on innocently. "That's okay, Killy! One more try! You can do it!"
Killian turns back to the boy, smiling at Henry even as he shakes his head at the reappearance of his childish nickname. Emma and Ruby lean on each other so as not to double over laughing, but manage to keep quiet. Killian pulls back his arm once more and lets the last shot loose. As soon as she sees it, Emma knows with absolute certainty that this was just how Jones intended the whole thing to go. His last throw easily clears the table of all bottles, wins the prize to maximum dramatic effect, and sends Henry into ecstatic palpitations.
Swinging the boy up into his arms so that he can see over the tables to all the prizes, Killian tells Henry to take his pick. Henry nods enthusiastically and wraps his little arms around his protector's neck, saying, "Thank you, Killy," in an adoring way that nearly causes Emma to melt. It's ridiculous how little it takes for her to feel that way again, even though she knows Killian intends to keep his distance and she fully understands his reasoning.
There is still a part inside of her that yearns for him, for another taste of the kiss that passed between them last night. She has never felt such a magnetic physical pull toward anyone in her life, nor experienced such a fiery connection after the simplest touch, or felt so safe and secure in another person's embrace. There is no help for it, and she has already promised herself not to hold him back or cling to him through pity and guilt, but it doesn't change the fact that she dreads losing him when their job as protection detail is complete. It has only been seven months, but Emma already hates to think of how empty her life will feel when she must go back to living it without Killian Jones at her side.
She is broken from her thoughts when Henry comes dashing toward she and Ruby, already holding up his prize and calling out to both of them happily. "Look! Look what Mr. Killy won me!" He skids to a stop, just short of barreling into them and taking them both out at the knees. The huge, orange giraffe with lime green spots nearly hits her in the nose as Henry waves it in front of her face, but Emma dutifully "oohs" and "aahs" over it as if it is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen, not the eyesore that she knows will end up displayed prominently right in the middle of her living room.
Ruby compliments him on his new toy as well, but then shoots Emma a cryptic smile with a twinkle in her dark eyes. Hefting the giraffe under one arm, she holds out her hand to Henry. "Come on, little man. Let's you and I take your new buddy for a ride on the Ferris Wheel and give 'Mr. Killy' a chance to see if he can win anything close to this awesome for you mom."
Emma flushes in embarrassment at Ruby's obvious nudge for her to seek some alone time with Jones. She hasn't told Ruby any of what has passed between herself and Killian, but obviously the younger agent has pieced together enough on her own to think she needs to play matchmaker.
Her little boy is oblivious to the adult dynamics swirling around him and merely whoops his agreement to Ruby's suggestion, taking her offered hand and starting to pull her in the direction of the Ferris Wheel with barely a word for his mother. They set a meeting place and she waves him off easily, a gently indulgent smile on her face and a quick admonishment to be careful and listen to Ruby.
Turning to face Killian, Emma can feel heat on her cheeks letting her know her embarrassment is showing. She does not want Jones to think she has been blabbing to his partner or has been trying to finagle to get him alone after the understanding they reached. She tilts her head curiously, awaiting his response, as she offers, trying to keep the tone light, "Well, what do you say, Jones? How will you continue to prove your macho skill?"
Scoffing at her challenge, he arches a brow, but steps closer, offering his arm for her to take as they continue down the midway. Even as they do, he lobs banter right back at her. If Emma didn't know better, know that it isn't humanly possible, she would think the man could read her mind. He has clearly sensed she is uneasy and doesn't want to exacerbate the pressure, so he plays along with her effort at normalcy. "What else must I do to prove myself, Maggie me lass?" he teases good naturedly, playing up his lilting accent more as he often does when having fun. "I've already won your boy the biggest prize in the place. How shall I impress you?"
An impish light comes into Emma's eyes as she sees just the thing over his shoulder: the strong man test. "Oh, I may have some idea," she croons, pulling him toward the game by their linked arms and deciding not to dwell any longer on the fact that they have certainly slipped back into flirtatious territory, despite his previous backing off and all their noble intentions. Instead, she is going to take happiness where she can – the last few months have shown her how precious and fleeting that happiness can be – and enjoy the moments she has with him.
When they stop before the challenge, Killian looks surprised for only a moment, then allows his unfailing swagger to take over. Practically leering down at her, he runs his tongue scandalously along his lower lip before leaning in to murmur deeply at her ear. "Do you truly require further proof of my virility, Darling? Or do you merely wish to ogle my form at its fullest capacity?"
She should pull back; Emma knows she ought to, for both their sakes. The way he can switch effortlessly from serious, driven, quietly guarded FBI agent to playful, engaging, and irresistible dream guy in seconds is impressive and throws her quite off guard. Looking at him as he stares down at her lasciviously, Emma finds herself breathless with want and cannot put the careful distance back between them even if she wanted to…which she has to admit, deep down, is not the case.
Paying the attendant and taking up the mallet, Killian shoots her a ridiculously incendiary look and swings it down, also without seeming to try. Though he is built with a handsomely lean intensity, he is certainly no muscle bound bodybuilder type. However, the red mark shoots up the post, clanging off the top point and making all the bells and whistles go wild. Killian struts back to her, arms flexed over his head as all the nearby crowd hoots and hollers, while Emma blushes tomato red and tries to hide her face. The carney offers them their prize, but Killian declines after Emma shakes her head, trembling with silent laughter and attempting to hide her face overheated with embarrassment against his chest.
Leading her away from the clamor and hubbub, he interlocks his fingers with hers and brings their joined hands up to his mouth, letting his stubble brush against her skin as he plants a light kiss on the back of her hand. Cliché as it sounds, Killian's warm lips pressed gently to her skin nearly make her heart stop. Moving forward to the place they are supposed to meet Ruby and Henry, Emma thrills at the fact that he is still holding her hand, relishing the closeness of his strong, calloused fingers between hers and the reassuring pressure of his grip surrounding her.
Looking across at her, Killian studies Emma's face, as if trying to read all her emotions from her current expression. "Someday, Swan," he whispers hoarsely, for the first time ever in public using her true name, even if it is spoken so softly that no one but her could possibly hear. His face is suddenly serious and ardent as he seems to gaze into her soul. "It may not be our time now, but when it is possible, I hope you will still give me a chance."
She finds herself unable to fully swallow the huge lump in her throat to respond aloud, but nods fervently in agreement, hoping he will understand. They stop near a small brick building, with facilities for men on one side and women on the other. Killian stands outside to wait while Emma slips in for a moment, digging through her large carry-all purse for her iPhone after finishing up and washing her hands. The bag is deep, and she gets exasperated the longer she fumbles through fruitlessly. She doesn't hear the scratching, scuffling sounds against the outer wall she has her back to, nor even take notice of the supposedly locked maintenance and cleaning staff door cracking open behind her. Without her ever noticing, a black clad figure slips through the entry of that storage closet and is on her soundlessly before Emma even knows there's danger.
Immediately frightened, Emma starts to turn, already attempting to fight her way free and scream for help. The movement is arrested roughly, and Emma never sees who has caught her. A large, smothering hand clamps over her mouth, muffling the cry she hopelessly releases, while an arm jerks her back into a solid, immovable body. Emma struggles in the person's grip for several desperate seconds, then there is a sharp needle prick in her neck, making her movements go sluggish, then her body fall numb, before everything fades to black.
Her attacker hefts Emma's limp form over his shoulder and carries her to the closet he was using to lie in wait for her. When he steps back out a few moments later, with what appears to be only a tarp-covered bundle of service materials over his shoulder, which will raise no alarm at all carried by an apparent maintenance man. Heading away from the brick building swiftly, but not enough so to gain any attention, Emma's abductor vanishes with her, and no one sees anything at all. For several precious minutes too long, no other people enter the ladies' room to notice the purse that has fallen from her lax, unconscious fingers and its contents spilled across the slick cement floor. The phone that has fallen from her bag rings now despite the way its screen has shattered, Jones' call going unanswered even before he realizes that his Emma is gone.