A/N: It is that time again dear readers. Many thanks to my beta JustAnotherLoneWolf for putting up with my never ending messages, as well as evilunicorn11 for looking over an early draft of this chapter. Keep an eye out, I'm tinkering around with a Firefly/OUAT FF. 66 DAYS to Once Upon a Time premier. -Cade
Disclaimer: I don't own Firefly, OUAT, Doctor Who, Casablanca, etc. I own this plot/storyline/structure.
"Everything?" she asked. Emma snorted out a laugh at Killian, but he pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her before should could lash out at him. He answered his phone with a smirk.
"Robin, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Killian tapped at Emma's lips and she thought she smelled hay. He continued, "I did happen to reach your Emma. Turn of fate, actually. I'll be sure to let her know. Yes, see you in a bit, mate."
She swatted his hand away from her face. "Your hand smells."
Killian lost the smirk and said, "Don't deflect. You need to talk to him, or one of the others. They're not going to let this go. Christ, Swan, I'm trying to be a friend."
Emma shook her head; she had enough friends. If she was honest: the black jeans molded onto him, the form fitting purple muscle tee, and his singular earring made Killian too hot for the friend zone. Not to mention his knowing smirk and spark in his eye—it must be part of his Irish charm.
"When did we become friends? Just drop it, Jones. If I wanted a big brother breathing down my neck I would've talked to Robin by now." Killian thought about doing just that, but if something happened to her and he could have prevented it, Robin would skin him alive. They stared one another down.
Finally breaking eye contact, he said, "Fine, see you around, Swan."
Before he reached the door she called out across the diner. "Hey, what about my jacket?"
"Call your friends and then we'll talk."
The door's bell chimed at his exit. Emma frowned, and then she called Robin.
At the apartment, Killian sprawled over the couch and threw an arm over his eyes. That girl, no that woman, made his head hurt. He didn't understand why Emma would choose to exile herself over something as stupid as this, and she had placed him in the middle of it all.
"I take it things did not go well with Emma." Robin spoke as he came down the stairs with Regina in tow.
Killian groaned and asked, "How did you know?"
"Because only Emma or Regina could make me look the way you do, like I've been beating my head against a brick wall," Robin said. "Plus, we just got off the phone."
"Swan is a pain in the ass. What did she say?"
"That I have a pig-headed pirate for a roommate, and he demanded she call her friends, with an explanation, or lose her beloved leather jacket for all eternity."
Killian peeked out from under his arm. "That's about how it went."
Regina laughed. "Emma would do anything for that worn out thing; with great power comes great responsibility."
He smiled. "I'll keep that in mind, love. Did she happen to tell you what she's been up to?"
Robin sighed and stuck his hands in his jean pockets. He said, "No, but we made plans for tomorrow. Emma promises explanations and apologies so long as I supply pizza and beer."
Killian couldn't believe she had weaseled her way back into Robin's good graces without any begging. "Damn, infuriating harpy of a woman. She's at fault and somehow you're treating her to lunch. You're all too forgiving."
They spent what remained of the afternoon laying on the couch, watching movies and eating pizza. The sun had just disappeared below the horizon when Killian's phone buzzed.
After reading the text he said, "There's a party over at a friend of a friend's if you guys want to go?" Killian needed something to take his mind off of his confrontation with Emma. The couple looked at each other and grinned. "Right, why did I even ask." He rolled his eyes heavenward. "Enjoy having the apartment to yourselves."
Regina spoke up, "We can at least offer to drop you off; you won't have to worry about a DD or drinking too much." Robin pouted but didn't object.
He just grinned. "Much obliged, love."
Two hours and one drink later, Killian wanted to call it a night. Anyone he knew at the party had gone home or beyond wasted. He was walking around the back yard to find a quiet place for calling Regina and Robin when he turned a corner and found Emma face to face with Neal.
"C'mon," Neal said. His arm wrapped around her waist. "I can show you now if you want. My motorcycle is around the corner; I drove it here."
"Motorcycles are cool, but bowties are cooler." To her dismay, Neal didn't laugh. Emma gave him a once over. The black converse all-stars, cargo shorts, and a muscle tank top weren't sitting right with her. But at this point the tequila shots kept Emma from connecting any dots. "But I—"
He spoke in a low voice and licked his lips. "It'll only take a minute or two, Ems"
A few hours ago Neal invited her out to his friend's house party. After the rough few weeks, and even rougher encounter with Killian, she had wanted to unwind. The night began with Neal introducing her to everyone. Then they played a Ring of Fire and beer pong, plus Neal kept plying Emma with shot after shot. Inside had grown too warm after all of the shots and chugged beers, and Emma had come outside for fresh air. It was also an excuse to escape Neal's increasingly grabby hands. Then her plan back fired as Neal came outback with her, nudging her around the side of the house and pleading with her to come see his bike. The worst part: she hadn't brought anyone with her and it was getting harder and harder to think as her sobriety decreased with each passing second.
Neal's hands wandered around from her waist up her stomach to the underside of her breasts. "Babe, you know you wanna."
She shook her head but couldn't remember why she shouldn't go see the motorcycle. And he didn't think bowties were cool. Killian would think they were cool and say something Whovian in that accent of his. Unfamiliar touches brought her thoughts back to now, back to Neal and his motorcycle. The reason she shouldn't go was in the back of her mind but fogged over by the alcohol. She shook her head and fought to breathe and think and not throw up.
Neal's hands tightened making her stomach start to churn. She felt his mouth leaving a wet trail on her skin and shuddered. Emma wanted to shove and push him off but her arms weren't listening. Even her throat felt constricted from fear, but she managed to say, "Neal, no." Panic flooded her system, forcing her lungs into overdrive.
It took a split second for Killian to read the distress on Emma's face.
"Of all the gin joints in all the world," he said under his breath.
Shoving Neal, he freed her, but the girl swayed pitifully. She had tears in her eyes and kept taking rapid uneven breathes. Navigating her away from the scene proved difficult as she kept swatting at him and pulling the opposite direction.
Killian grabbed her chin and forced her to meet his eyes.
"Emma, love, I'm not going to hurt you. It's time to go home."
Those are the craziest blue eyes I've ever seen. I mean offensively attractive, should-be-illegal-to-look-at-her eyes. And the ridiculous earring, shaggy midnight hair, and a five o'clock shadow. People like him should be made illegal, or ordered to dial down the sexy.
"Thanks, Swan. Knew you were all bark and no bite."
Oh she bit—when the occasion called for it. For instance when she got too close and could smell him, earthy and fresh, it was enough to make her want to sink her teeth—
"Emma, look at me."
She scrunched her eyes. Nope, not a chance: If she fell into his gaze again she'd unable to resist any request. Then a thought hit her: what if he started talking about bow ties? His hypnotic accent could pose more of a threat than those baby blues.
"Is that so?" Killian chuckled and suddenly warm lips pressed against Emma's ear. "Swan," he said. The words sent pleasant tingles over her body. "Bow ties are cool. Now, pretty please stop talking and let me get you home safe."
The accent was definitely more of a problem.
Killian could not believe the words flowing from Emma's mouth. The woman's brain to mouth filter was completely lost. Secrets galore were liable to spill forth and indeed they did. To start they weren't anything worth listening to but then she began to talk about his eyes and he learned Swan found him irresistible, to put it mildly.
Those green eyes captivated him like a siren's song. And when she shut her eyes, but admitted his voice might be her kryptonite, Killian thought she couldn't be more adorable. He couldn't help leaning in close, breathing her in, and taking advantage of his effect on her. The Matt Smith line helped, too.
Emma stopped talking and they walked away from the house; or rather Emma stumbled while Killian supported her down the sidewalk.
"Well, love, I hate to break it to you but you're not driving anywhere. But the good news: I did not drive myself tonight. Which way is home?"
When she didn't answer, he stopped their walk and turned so they faced each other. Emma studied him. They were close enough she had no trouble sliding her arms around his neck.
"Swan?"
"Tell me the truth; you're a pirate aren't you?" She played with his earring then trailed a finger over the curve of his ear down his neck where she let it rest on his collarbone. "A dashing rapscallion searching near and far as he crosses the seven seas."
Killian decided to take advantage of the moment. Again. He wanted to know how she thought of him. "Am I searching for a princess to ransom or piles of gold?"
She shook her head and her bright smile dimmed.
"No, you're looking for home."
The words pierced him because it rang true.
"How would you know that, love?"
She leaned in and whispered, "Because I'm searching too."
It would have been a nice moment. He wanted to let it be a moment between them, but she was drunk and he didn't want to address the feelings her words reanimated within him. He patted her shoulder in what he hoped was a brotherly manner.
"Enough distracting me." Killian disentangled himself from her arms. "Where are your keys and where am I driving you?"
"Can't tell." Killian ignored her, looking down the street for her car. They reached the driver's side and she said, "Go home. I'm fine."
"Emma, you aren't fine and I am driving you home as soon as you tell me where home is."
"No. So tired, I just want to sleep. Killian, please. Please." She slid down the car and slumped against a tire with her head between her knees. With a wail Emma threw her car keys down and sobbed. Killian looked up at the stars and said a prayer. Then he retrieved the keys, unlocked the car, and lifted her to lie across the back seat.
"I can do it. Let me," she said fumbling with the seat belt. Killian rolled his eyes, and that's when he noticed the makeshift pallet and dirty clothes in her car's cargo area.
Shaking Emma he said, "Tell me you haven't been living in your car, Swan."
Eyes wide she shoved him back and threw up just outside the open door then flopped across the back seat, passed out.
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