His replacement was supposed to be here today - and he still hadn't quite figured out how to tell the congregation about the change.
Amidst all his happiness that he would soon be able to date Emma properly and embark on a new adventure with a church he felt much more suited to, there was a cloud of guilt over leaving the people of Storybrooke with another new priest.
There's always a warming up period when a new priest arrives. Some of the older parishioners get nervous that they're going to change things too much. Some of the younger ones worry that they'll be too traditional and boring. And, of course, any normal person feels a little uncomfortable in the confessional with someone they haven't yet come to trust.
In fact, many of them still didn't trust him - and although he wanted to be bold enough to say he didn't care, it bothered him to know that some people out there thought poorly of him.
A sharp knock on his office door jolted him out of his thoughts - and a moment later Lucy was introducing his trainee - Father William Smee.
He was a little older than Killian, stodgy in build with a nervous demeanor that his hunched shoulders and downward glances did little to hide. They got to know each other over a cup of coffee (Lucy mentioned that the Keurig was a good investment - and as in all other things, she appeared to be right.)
Killian had asked a few questions about Smee's background, and was moved at his unwavering devotion to the faith. After a tragic accident took his parents from him - Smee recounted the need to know that there is life eternal beyond this earth, that it didn't sit right to him that life could end, just like that.
He'd make a great priest - a little quiet at first, but Storybrooke was a quiet town, and that might be just the right fit.
"I know you, Emma. I know something's been going on. Just tell me who he is!" Mary Margaret had been asking questions on and off for a while now, but she was determined to get something out of her today.
In retrospect, this whole "weekly family lunch" thing was possibly the worst idea she'd ever had.
Emma curtly responded "why does it have to be a man?"
"Isn't it, though?"
"Maybe it's a woman," she shot back. Both her parents rolled their eyes at the same time.
Emma huffed out a defeated sigh.
"I can't say much just now. Yes, there's a man. Yes, we're kind of… dating? But that's all I can say."
Her mother's eyes lit up like she'd just won the lottery, and her father… well, it was hard to read his reaction. She noticed he crossed his arms and furrowed his brow a little, but his shoulders stayed relaxed - as if there was a part of him that was glad she'd found someone.
"Emma, you can't leave it there! We need details! You have to tell me everything! How long have you been seeing each other? Do we know him? How did you meet?" Her questions shot out rapid-fire.
"Just to be clear," he father interrupted - still wearing his displeased expression, "some of us don't want to know everything."
"I told you - I can't say much. It's been going on for a while now - and you'll find out who he is soon enough." Emma broke into a smile at the thought of finally being able to date Killian out in the open. She knew they'd get some push-back from the more conservative folks in town, but all that mattered is that they could be together - and give this relationship a real shot.
He'd never struggled so much with a sermon in his life. On the one hand, he didn't want to mention his departure in passing at the end, like it was just another church announcement about a bake sale or something, but to talk about it too much seemed self-important.
After spending most of the past few days showing Smee the ropes - he hadn't left much time for writing, and he desperately needed to wrap this up. He stood up from his desk chair and paced in his office before deciding he'd likely have better luck going out for a real walk (some of his best sermons came to him along the docks.)
He gave quick explanation of his outing to Lucy, who was going over some paperwork with Smee, and shoved his hands deeply into his pockets before stepping out into the cool autumn breeze. He'd prefer to go for a run right now, really, but with it being the middle of the day - he didn't want to set a bad example for their new recruit.
He'd contemplated bringing his headphones, but the sounds of the water nearby and his black dress shoes on the wooden boards were plenty of background noise for the internal dialogue bouncing in his brain.
It can't be that hard. Just tell them why you're leaving.
OK. So why are you leaving? For sex?
It's not that. It's… more than that. It's about the way I feel about her is just… I'm not alone anymore. I finally feel like I'm not alone. It's about love.
Love. How trite. And what about your love for God? That means nothing to you now?
Of course not. I still love God, I even still love the church. I just… I hate that God gave me this capacity to love, and yet I'm not allowed to express it. I see couples all the time who hold each other's hands as they walk down the street and think nothing of it. I want that so badly. I feel like being able to love her - openly - will make me a better man, a better priest, even.
He sighed deeply and ran a hand roughly through his hair, scratching at his scalp as he went. And then it hit him.
It's 1 John 4:8. That's what it is.
"Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love."
I now know love - and I want to experience that fully, so that I can better know God, because God is love.
He smiled to himself - and writing his final sermon as a Catholic priest came surprisingly easy after that.
"Are you nervous?"
He jumped a little at the sound of her voice - the open doors of his armoir had blocked his view of the door and allowed her to sneak up on him as he pulled on his robes for the final time.
"A bit, yeah." He scratched behind his ear and glanced downward as he spoke, and with that she knew he was more nervous that he was willing to admit.
"Are you going to say anything about me? I figure I deserve fair warning since I'm here with my parents and all." She crossed her arms and put her weight on one foot as she said it. Her slightly aggressive posture (and the impropriety of being alone with him in his office while there was a church full of people downstairs) had him flashing back to when they first met.
Her bravado was one of the first traits he fell in love with. Her confident nature hid a much more complicated truth, of course, but he himself had been like that in his youth - and it made him smile to think of them being similar that way. He'd finished dressing and closed the doors to the armoir before walking toward her.
"I'm going to talk about love, yes. And I will say that I'm leaving because I fell in love, but I wasn't planning on 'naming names' so to speak." He chanced a quick caress of her cheek before stepping back to a more appropriate distance.
"I figure it will be obvious before long, but I don't need to feed the gossip any more than is necessary. That and -" he looked toward the door to make sure they were alone. "I hadn't asked for your opinion on the matter, so I thought it best to err on the conservative side."
She mused for a moment, contemplating exactly what her thoughts were. To be honest, she'd thought a lot about it the past few days. She thought about calling him to talk about it, before deciding that this was his domain, his decision - and she should let him lead.
When he didn't bring it up, she suppressed the urge to feel hurt for being excluded. She tried to feel simply excited for him, but it was harder than she thought. It did involve her, after all, and she could hardly keep her parents at bay about this "mystery man" forever.
He caught the slightly devious upturn of her lips, curving into her trademark smirk - and he knew she was up to no good.
"I say get it all out in the open, Jones. Like ripping off a bandaid. It won't be comfortable, but it's always better to get it over with." She headed toward the door, catching the frame with her hand as she turned to look back at him over her shoulder. "Think of it as a challenge."
He wanted to laugh at her throwing his words back at him like that (he'd said them to her several times - mostly in various compromising positions), but the levity lasted only a moment or two before the lead weight of anxiety settled into the pit of his stomach once more.
The traditional hymns and readings went by all too quickly, and he found himself standing at the pulpit prepared to give his final sermon as a Catholic priest. The church wasn't quite as full as usual (thank God for that), and his eyes quickly found the Nolan family in the pews. Emma was seated between her mother and father, giving him an encouraging look.
He started in on all of the ways that love is portrayed in the bible. There's the love of our Heavenly Father, the love for our fellow man, the love we have for our children - and then there's romantic love.
His eyes kept focused on her the entire time he spoke about romantic love - so much, in fact, that the brazen Emma Nolan (the very same one who'd sat stone-faced as her phone sent lewd texts to him during service) started to blush. He even caught Mary Margaret and David glancing back and forth - their eyes drawing invisible paths to try and figure out who he was staring so intently at.
"...which brings me to an announcement of sorts," he said with finality before clearing his throat and picking his head up from his notes. "I'm sorry to say that this is my last sermon with you all."
The entire room went deathly silent and still in an instant. It would've been funny if it wasn't such a serious moment.
Oh sure. Now you all listen intently.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, just trying to keep himself from locking his knees and passing out.
"When I first came here I had no idea what was in store for me. And you've all been so gracious and kind..."
He stalled, trying to will himself to get to the difficult part.
It's now or never, Jones. Get on with it.
"I've spent the past 40 minutes talking about the importance of love, and how - through love - we can come to understand the true veracity of God's grace. I would be a hypocrite indeed if I had an opportunity for such love in my life, and I denied it. And while it's been an absolute joy to get to know you, there is one reason in particular that this parish will always hold a special place in my heart."
Emma's own heart skipped a beat - she was fidgeting like a 3-year-old who just wanted to hurry up and get on with their day. She didn't even realize she'd been holding her breath until her head started to hurt for the lack of oxygen.
"During my stay here, I…" he sucked in a deep breath and found Emma's emerald eyes shining back at him from the pews, her gentle nod nudging him to continue. He scratched behind his ear again (damn that spot was raw) before picking up once more. "You see, I've fallen in love with Emma Nolan - and being a priest… well, that makes love a bit of a challenge."
Absolutely everyone in the church gasped at once - it's a wonder there was any air left in the building at all - and within a second a din of hushed voices echoed through the small sanctuary. Everywhere he looked he saw scandalized expressions, ranging from shock to disgust - and through it all there was Emma, smile radiating like a beacon of hope.
Even that only lasted a second before her father was tugging her out of the pews and straight down the aisle to the main doors. Emma looked back at him one last time - his face pale with worry still standing at the pulpit looking slightly shocked himself as the congregation below buzzed with censure and judgment.
He had to get control of this. Now.
"Please, quiet down now" he called out over the clatter, which slowly faded back down. "Thank you. Now, I know this comes as quite a surprise, but I assure you that the church will be in good hands. Father William Smee will be replacing me starting next Sunday, and we'll be having a little 'get to know you' with coffee and treats on Wednesday so you can get to know him better. Thank you for your kindness, and peace be with you."
As soon as he'd concluded he leapt down from the pulpit and ran down the center aisle - needing to explain himself to Mr. and Mrs. Nolan.
"Dad, stop!" Once they were out the door Emma pulled her arm back from her father's grasp. "I'm not a child - you can't just drag me out of there!"
David paced back and forth, breathing heavily as he tried to reign in his emotions.
"Unbelievable." He was muttering angrily under his breath - Emma couldn't tell if she was meant to understand what he was saying or not.
"I can see that you're upset - but seriously we're both adu-"
"He's a priest, Emma!" David was shouting in the courtyard, and Mary Margaret (who had just been following in stunned silence) stepped over to touch his arm to soothe him. He recoiled at her touch - too riled for such softness.
"He's more than that! He's a good man, an honest man. He loves me and I love him!" Emma's eyes were alight with passion - and Killian was lucky enough to catch her declaration as he swung open the church doors and found her challenging her father on his behalf.
His heart swelled with pride at the sight of her - gloriously fierce in her defense of the depth of their feelings for each other. Her eyes met his, over the shoulder of her father - but their shared glance didn't go unnoticed.
David followed his daughter's line of sight and it was evident by his body language the instant he saw Killian. His shoulders tensed and he turned on his heel swiftly, striding to close the distance between them, fists clenched at his sides.
Kilian raised his hands - open palms facing the clearly irate man charging toward him.
"Mr. Nolan, please let me exp-"
He didn't have time to finish his sentence as David's fist crashed violently against the side of his face, jaw hanging slack as he was sent reeling backward. If it weren't for the ringing in his ears he could have heard Emma's concerned yelp or Mary Margaret's pleas for mercy.
You deserved that, mate. Honestly.
The way David stepped back, shaking out his right hand - they all knew the one blow did all the damage he sought. Mary Margaret ran to her husband's side, and Emma to Killian's - her fingers immediately tracing the red mark already spreading up toward his eye.
"I deserved that." Killian said solemnly. "Actually, I'm sure I deserve worse."
"Damn right you do," David quipped - his wife smacking his arm at his response.
"I realize the timing of this is - less than ideal," Killian started. Emma's grip on his arm tightening in solidarity. "But sir, I can assure you I love your daughter with all my heart - and she's been kind enough to trust me with her heart - and I don't intend to let her down."
Though she'd done her best to hide it (not wanting to provoke her husband's tenuous grip on his temper), a smile spread ever so slightly across her lips.
David sighed heavily in resignation. As much as he wanted to continue being angry - even he couldn't deny that Emma had seemed happier than he'd ever seen her, and he knew himself that the priest before him was a (generally) good man.
"I can't…" David shook his head. "I can't talk about this now." And with that, he headed toward the parking lot.
"Just give him some time," Mary Margaret smiled weakly before following her husband.
People had started filing out of the church just as David struck him, and they were now milling about - pretending not to be hanging around just for gossip and scandal as they watched the fallout of his announcement.
They were suddenly aware of how many eyes were on them - and though he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and tell the lot of them to fuck off, he'd already caused enough scandal and -
No, you know what? Screw it.
He gripped Emma around the waist, a gasp leaving her lips as her expression changed from worry to surprise at his bold action.
"Killian, everyone's watching…" Her tone was rebuking but they way her hips tilted into his touch made him think she didn't mind so much. His gaze turned hungry and his voice lowered as he stepped a little closer to whisper in her ear.
"Let them watch."
Her breath hitched at the warmth of his words, a bolt of arousal shooting down her spine and settling low in her belly. He pulled back enough to catch they way her pupils dilated at his directness, and he held himself mere centimeters from her - the heat of his breath warming her lips as he waited for her to close the distance between them. Ever the gentleman, he let her make the decision.
She swayed into him to close the gap and pressed her lips into his, a sigh of contentment rumbling from his chest as she tilted her head to grant him better access and tightly gripped the sash over his shoulders - the silk sliding through her fingers easily. He kissed her deeply before retreating - realizing that they really shouldn't be making out in the church courtyard while he was still in his full robes.
They broke apart and pressed their foreheads together for a brief moment - eyes closed, trying to savor the final seconds of their moment, before facing the voyeurs still muttering to themselves about their sins and impropriety.
"I should at least go change…" He finally said. She laughed heartily in response, relenting her grip on his sash.
"I suppose so. Meet you at your place after?" Her smile was radiant - and he was just as eager to spend some time alone with her, if not only to have a chance to talk about what to do about her parents.
Despite his profession, he wasn't quite old-fashioned enough to say he'd stop seeing her because of her parents' disapproval, but he desired it all the same.
"Aye, love. It may be a few hours - but make yourself at home. You remember where the spare key is?" He rubbed reassuring patterns into the soft skin between her thumb and forefinger as he spoke.
"Of course I remember, but you know I could pick the lock even if I didn't," she teased him, giving his hand a final squeeze before letting him head back into the church.
It was finally done - out in the open. Now all that was left is to tie up loose ends and pack up his few belongings. He'd have to move out of the apartment as well, but luckily Smee had given him an extra few weeks on that account.
Even so, he really should get a jump on that.
He could fit his personal items in a shoebox, so packing didn't take very long. Though he wanted to get back to Emma right away, he took a moment to make a few calls about nearby apartments - there was one by the harbor he was particularly fond of, and he was all set with an appointment to see it tomorrow morning.
He stood in the doorway to his office, memories flooding his senses - Emma saucily uncapping her trademark sharpie with her teeth, him laying open his robes for them on the hard wooden floor, the many times he'd stared out the window to the courtyard - listening intently for God's voice, battling his demons and desires and preparing sermons.
The church had given him so much. It had given him refuge from the harshness of the streets, a warm meal when his stomach was tearing itself up with acrid hunger, a kind word when his despair had reached impossible depths, a leg-up when he was ready to seek independence, sanctuary when it all shattered in front of him and he lost all hope along with his hand, encouragement and faith to help him pull together the scattered pieces of his tormented soul, and finally (finally) love like he never could have imagined - Emma.
With a final clearing breath, he clicked the door shut behind him and set about starting his new life with the incredible woman waiting for him at home.