serendipity

(n.) finding something good without looking for it.

Chapter 7: serendipity

"Who knew it would be so exhausting?" laments Swan as she collapses on the couch. Her lips curl down in annoyance, and gentle frown lines run over her brow.

Killian was certain it would be laborious, and he is astonished she isn't fully knocked out. He, for one, feels worn out despite having done nothing but sit in the waiting room and accompany her from one appointment to the next. He doesn't dare to imagine what would have happened if his brother hadn't called in a few favors. Liam is not a fan of wire-pulling; he believes that everyone has an equal right to healthcare, and he always adheres to this, with a few exceptions, Swan being one of them. His brother had to rush his coworkers because he had patients arriving at one o'clock and needed to be there for the exams. Swan's exceptional situation was a priority, and he feared that the waiting, the many strangers, and too many new impressions might eventually cause her to break down.

But Swan held her own admirably as if each new examination was another exciting adventure for her. Whether she's really so strong or merely hiding her fears well, Killian could not say.

"Are you sure you're all right, Swan?" he softly asks as he settles into one of the armchairs.

She smiles softly as she lifts her emerald eyes to his. "Don't worry, I'm not going to suddenly freak out."

"So you might, just not right now?"

Swan laughs in a lovely tinkling voice but then looks seriously at him. "I like your sense of humor."

"I think you're alone in that," he purses his lips, prompting another bright smile. "Alright, so what would you like to do now?"

"I enjoyed our movie night. Would you like to watch something during lunch?" she asks.

Killian nods, indicating that he enjoyed it as well. He ultimately chose the movie because Swan had no idea what she liked. She was interested in everything and couldn't make up her mind. They watched two movies in a row, though he undoubtedly watched her more than the telly. When Swan fell asleep on the sofa, Killian took the duvet from Wendy's room, wrapped it around her, and sat back in the armchair, pensively staring at her. He had no idea when he fell asleep, and he didn't expect to, but he awoke to find his brother standing over him, coffee in hand, gently calling his name.

Since Swan still couldn't remember anything, Liam decided to have her examined. Not all tests came back promptly, but doctors believed that the amnesia was most certainly caused by trauma. They recommended plenty of rest and familiar environments that could trigger recollections. Unfortunately, given that they have no idea where she has been residing, the latter is out of the question.

The doctors suggested that Swan be kept in until she could remember for her own safety, but to Killian's great relief, his brother refused to hear of it. He stated firmly that she would remain with them. No one objected since Swan took it gratefully and happily. It was the only time she showed any signs of dread or fright, which she sought to hide. Killian doesn't want to think about what it would have been like for her to be left alone, how strongly she would have felt the prospect of it in those minutes, but he believes it was enough because tears welled up in her eyes as she thanked them. Killian had never felt such a strong need to hold her and whisper in her ear that everything was going to be fine.

"If you don't mind, we could watch a theatre movie," Swan notes shyly, and Killian is pulled from the haunting memories and thoughts.

Last night he chose a light adventure film that was exciting, humorous, and interesting, but with a touch of romance - he was actually playing it safe, he wanted her to have fun.

"Why?" he raises an eyebrow. There are good theatrical films, that's not it, but he thought she was looking for something fun, and he hadn't run out of ideas, in fact, he was all set for Indiana Jones - he thought she'd have a good time with that one as well, and what's more, he wanted to hear her laugh or see her smile. He thinks Swan could do with something exciting right now, something completely different from reality, something that would distract her from her current situation.

"I'd like to get to know the world you worked in," she replies, looking at him a little nervously, as if worried about what he might say.

"Why?" he asks again.

"Because I want to get to know you better."

The words just slowly settle between them. Killian is tempted to repeat his previous question but doesn't. He's tempted to warn her that getting to know him better will get her nowhere, but he doesn't. On the one hand, it would be unfair, since he himself would like to know Swan better, and on the other hand, he thinks she is looking for a handhold, and by trying to know him she might get to know herself better - he feels he cannot take that away from her.

"Fine, you bring whatever you want to eat, and I'll pick the movie."

Swan's face lights up with joy, and she bounces vigorously before coming to a halt. "Do you think we could have cake for lunch?"

Killian laughs softly. "As you wish."

She goes out into the kitchen with spring in her step. As he looks at the gently swaying hips and buttocks, Killian feels the kind of satisfaction he experiences when he knows he's got the perfect notes down on paper. Strange that it should be triggered by the mere fact that he has made Swan happy.

He sits down with the remote control, but he doesn't have to scroll for long, the first thing he sees on the list is Being Juliet, and he thinks she'll like it - it has a particularly pleasant soundtrack, so he doesn't mind if they watch it.

"Would your niece mind if I borrowed some more of her clothes? These smell funny, it would be nice to change," Swan glances at him as she brings in some of the cookies from the pantry. She ate them all yesterday with apparent relish, almost sensually - though at least she didn't moan, which Killian was grateful for. The darkness, the soft lights from the television that shaded her face into a pale shadow, the bright gleam in her eyes, and her smile were enough of a temptation, it wasn't easy to keep his sanity - if she had even moaned while eating, Killian feared, all his hard-won discretion and sense of responsibility would have gone up in smoke.

"No, she won't mind, help yourself out."

"Thank you."

Killian figures it wouldn't hurt for him either to change into something that doesn't smell like hospital disinfectant or sickness, so while Swan disappears into Wendy's room, he changes too. (And while he's doing so, he tries hard not to imagine her peeling herself out of her clothes.)

He finishes quickly, so when Swan emerges, he's already sitting in the armchair. As she walks, she puts on a sweatshirt, and as she raises her arms, the shirt slides up off her stomach. There's only a glimpse of smooth, milky white skin and the tempting dip of her navel, but for Kilian, that's enough.

Would she giggle if he kissed her navel? Would it tickle her? What would it feel like to run his tongue over her skin? What would she taste like?

"I'm ready to start," she says.

Killian finds it immensely frustrating that she has no idea what she is doing to him, that her simplest gesture or even a slightly cheeky smile can muddle his thoughts and project pictures of passion.

He swallows hard and starts the film. He doesn't watch as she eats, requiring no extra stimuli to keep him from thinking of anything but what it would be like to strip her of her clothes, what it would feel like to touch her, how she would gasp and moan as he brings her closer and closer to bliss. Yes, he would like to watch her face when she comes.

Killian knows it's perilous to even think about such a thing, if only because she's as attracted to him as he is to her. His lips pull into a smile - maybe that's why he wanted to sneak into her room at night. He doesn't exactly want to crawl into bed with her, but something compels him to want to watch her in her slumber. In fact, he regrets that he wasn't in his room at the time and that he didn't wake up to her standing over him watching. Knowing himself, he would have been unable to stop himself at such a moment, with his thoughts muddled by sleep and scarcely real. He would have captured Swan's hand and dragged her into bed beside him and kissed her so thoroughly that she would remember him forever.

The pictures, intermingled with passion, are leaving him no rest. Although he keeps his eyes locked on the TV, he fails to comprehend anything of the film, and strangely, he can barely recognize any of the soundtracks, even though anything with music always makes him feel alive. Now, though, Swan serves that function.

He suppresses a furious grunt and blames fate for the hundredth time since yesterday for having so carelessly put this girl in his path. How much simpler and easier it would all be if they had met under completely different circumstances - in truth, he probably wouldn't be nervous about touching or kissing her any longer, because he would know exactly what it would be like.

Then he wouldn't want her to stay, he wouldn't fear that she would remember and ultimately walk away from his life without a trace. Because yes, as poignant as it is to himself, he is terrified.

Something changed between them last night, Killian can't place his finger on it, but something did. By being honest with her, he had let her get closer to him than he had let anybody else in months - in fact, closer than probably anybody else ever had. Even today, he still doesn't understand why he did it, how the words fell out of his mouth. But they did, and since then Swan appears less uptight, and he himself feels less tense - even though he has to keep his desires under control.

His eyes flick to Swan. She is leaning forward, watching the film, her face fixed in stone, not blinking. The film is just approaching its phenomenal end, the whole plot is built up at this moment, and the way the actress puts it through is brilliant.

Killian turns his head, watching the film himself until a soft, silken whisper meets his ears.

"Your only reality is the theater. Anything else, what civilians call the real world, is nothing but fantasy and I bloody well won't let you forget it," Swan mutters to herself at exactly the same time as the film's protagonist. And then she grins, and that tiny smile is just like the actress on the TV screen, and she says with her, "Rubbish."

And Swan smiles in a manner she has never before, or if she has, Killian has missed it. Her expression gets to his heart and awakens extremely strange emotions in him. Tenderness, anxiety, and an unexplainable longing to wake up one day, just once, to that smile and that it would be for only him.

"You've seen this film before," he says softly.

"How do you know that?" she asks, surprised.

"You said the last couple of lines."

"What?" she asks, stunned.

"You said the lines with the character."

"Really?"

Killian gives a nod. Is it possible that she was unaware of what she was doing? And how many times did she have to watch this movie before her lips moved unconsciously when she couldn't remember anything? What does this movie mean to her? It has to be significant to her, but why?

"You don't remember seeing it, do you?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "It's quite bizarre. I have images in my head, but they're all hazy."

"Like what?"

"Well, I'm standing on a balcony, wearing a nightgown, it must be morning because the light is so bright, and... that's it. Just a flicker of a picture, but it looks so... false as if it isn't me. It's obviously because I can't connect it to anything right now, but it just doesn't feel right. Then I'm singing in front of a large crowd, but it's also as if it's not real. And suddenly I'm hugging a man and wearing a nice dress for no apparent reason; perhaps we're going to a party or something. There are a few more flashes, but nothing cohesive, just... moments," she purses her lips in a girlish manner.

Killian preferred the memory with the nightgown, but the last one makes his heart clench.

"You okay?" Swan's quietly whispered question makes him grimace.

"Why?"

"You look so grumpy."

"I don't like picturing you with a man unless that man is me," Killian admits, though he's already cursing himself as the words pass his lips. What in the world is he doing?

Swan's face flushes a shade of crimson, and her eyes fill with a gentle, enticing glow, and Killian doesn't regret his tendency to be unquestionably honest, especially as her mouth curls upwards in a loving fashion. It makes him pleased to know that he made her happy.

"What it's like to dance?" Swan's question comes out of nowhere, which Killian finds weird, but it's not the first time he's struggled to follow her rambling stream of thought. Swan had noticed things that would have passed him by in the hospital many times. For instance, how the light fell on the fractured tiles and the forms the shadows took. Swan, in reality, enlivened every gloomy or difficult moment with a light laughter that kept his smile intact.

"I don't dance."

"But you can?"

Killian gives a nod. Yes, he has danced in the past, notably when he was younger, though not frequently.

"Can you show me?"

His initial reaction is no way, but then he has a better idea.

"If you sing something for me in return."

"But I'm not even sure I can sing," Swan complains. A terrified expression crosses her face, perhaps because she is afraid of singing in front of someone - or possibly because she is afraid of doing it in front of him.

"You just said you remembered singing," Killian tries to persuade her. "Maybe you're a singer."

"Yeah, or I'm just crazy about karaoke and I have a terrible voice, but no one wants to hurt me so they don't tell me," she chuckles.

"You have a vivid imagination, you know that?"

"You have no idea," Swan sighs, and no, Killian doesn't want to know what she's thinking right now.

Okay, let's be honest, at least with himself: he shouldn't want to know, but he does. Is she feeling even a smidgeon of the need that is threatening to consume him?

"Sing for me, and I'll dance with you in return."

Killian lifts his eyebrow and gives her a stubborn stare - it worked before, Swan might not back down now. Because, yes, he wants to hear her sing.

"I know exactly what you're up to," she growls. "But you're wasting your time. I can't recall any songs, and I have no intention of serenading you."

"I'm sure I can show you a song you'll remember. If you do, you'll sing for me; if you don't, you won't," Killian announces on the spur of the moment, though he's not entirely certain of his declaration, but at least he'll get a chance.

Swan scowls at him for a few seconds before nodding.

"But first, we dance," she says.

Killian is unconcerned. He pauses the movie and searches for music on YouTube, fearful that she would change her mind about their deal. He's not sure why he thinks of Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell; perhaps it was in a movie he was watching with his brother the other day, and the music has crept insidiously into his thoughts since then.

He begins the video clip by standing in front of Swan, bowing playfully, and extending his hand to her with a goofy smile on his lips.

"My lady, would you do me the honor of a dance?"

Swan stares up at him, then instead of taking his hand, she cocks her head slightly to one side. "What's that music?"

"Are you scared?"

"A little."

"Ain't No Mountain High Enough, and no more delaying, come on. Don't be shy, even if you're clumsy, only I'll see it."

Swan's tiny and slender hands tremble as she places them in Killian's, but he doesn't hesitate, he grabs her and pulls her up, just quickly and firmly enough to make her lose her balance and press against his chest. She pulls away and gives him a reproving look, to which Killian merely responds with a sardonic half-smile.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"Would you blame me?"

Swan flushes and remains silent. To make more room, Killian moves her away from the couch and coffee table. He massages Swan's sweater-clad arm reassuringly with his free hand (and feels regret that he isn't touching her skin in the process), then lifts his hand to her shoulder, then wraps his own around her waist, and softly draws her closer to him. Swan's hand is slightly damp in his, indicating that she is still nervous so he leans in close, just barely avoiding brushing her skin with his mouth.

"Just follow me," he says quietly. He enjoys feeling her shiver in his arms.

Killian isn't much of a dancer, but he can get a beat going, so he starts here. He loses himself in her movements, and it's great to hold her, to feel her slenderness, her fragility.

Swan then exhales deeply and finally relaxes in his arms. Her hips glide lightly, and she no longer follows Killian, instead letting the music lead her. She pulls away from him, taking his prosthetic in hers and moving with grace. Killian can't resist the temptation, turning her around with ease, her eyes closed, mouth parted.

Swan laughs loudly and allows her body to move more freely. The way she seems to become one with the music while her body sways is incredibly alluring. Killian has never seen anyone dance so sensuously. He no longer moves and instead just observes her. A few strands of her hair untangle from her knotted hairstyle and fall in front of her face, but she doesn't notice and continues to dance. She dances as if it were the only thing keeping the world from ending as if it were the only thing keeping her from falling.

Swan steps out a little but doesn't let go of his hand, instead laughing and spinning until their bodies are squeezed tightly together as the song fades. Swan gasps for oxygen as Killian wraps his arm around her waist.

"To dance... it's uplifting, freeing, and... heaven... wonderful!" Her eyes sparkle with delight as if she was born to dance, as if it's all she's ever done as if it's her life. Killian doesn't think it's impossible based on how she moves.

He tucks her loose hair behind her ears and smiles. As his fingertips brush over the flushed skin, a yearning tingling sensation spreads across his entire body. He knows he shouldn't, but he presses his thumb against her warm, enticing lips nevertheless.

"I want to know what it's like," Swan says quietly.

"What?" Killian asks softly.

"If you kiss me."

He inhales deeply and swallows. He, too, is curious. Yes, absolutely.

"Perhaps there is someone you love, someone who loves you, Swan. It would be inappropriate, and you would regret it later. I don't want to hurt you in any way."

"Come on, Killian, I've been missing for at least two days and no one is looking for me. Do you think I'd still be here if anyone cared about me?" There's no animosity or fear in her voice, merely acceptance and perhaps a hint of lecturing.

Killian hadn't given it much thought; he was just glad she was here, that she brought color and brightness to his life. He has no idea what it feels like to be entirely alone in the world. His life had fallen apart, but he had somewhere to return to; there were people waiting for him, people who didn't question him about why he came back because they knew he would just become more withdrawn if they did. He is loved, and he should be thankful.

"How much more are you going to teach me, lass?" he muses as he strokes her soft lips once again.

"What do you mean?"

Killian shakes his head as if it didn't matter, then smiles softly.

"I care about you, Swan."

Her eyes widen and her eyes hold the same sparkle they did while she was dancing as if he is everything at this moment, and Killian already knows he's going to kiss her. Because he can't stop himself from kissing her.

"Why do I feel like I've walked right into the middle of something?" The words emerge playfully from the front door.

Killian has never been more angry at his niece than he is right now.