Another chapter for you all! I don't have any Elsa and Liam in this chapter, but don't fret, as their story is not done. This one is Captain Swan all the way and a little Ruby, Mary Margaret, and Emma friendship, as well as a peek at Mary Margaret and David's relationship.
Emma celebrated her victory over him without pretense that she was the least bit sorry or chagrinned. And to be honest, he found it adorable when she rhythmically shook her shoulders and swayed her hips to a tune that proclaimed her to be the winner. Rosy cheeks and a grin that made her eyes crinkle with delighted cuteness, he had already congratulated himself as she pointed out that she was living up to her threat of kicking his butt.
"You're going to regret this, Killian," she said when they approached an ancient game board that resembled a horse race. Each took a separate seat and rolled ping pong balls into holes painted with numbered points. The higher the point total the farther the horse lurched forward. He couldn't help his own laughter as she cheered on her red clad horse in a way that made it seem she thought it could hear and respond. He could barely aim his own balls into their slots for laughing so heartily at her earnest pleading to the mechanical horse.
"I knew you could do it!" she coaxed the horse when her board lit up in her win. She spun on the metal stool to face him, her green eyes dancing with glee. "That's another win for me. What's my prize? So what do we play next?"
He didn't ask if she was having a good time at the boardwalk, as it was pretty obvious when she began dancing in place after winning a stuffed unicorn. His hope to hear her laugh and to see her smile was multiplied by a hundred, as even he hadn't expected her to latch onto his hand and drag him into a haunted house that seemed a combination of strobe lights and cheap Halloween costumes.
When the first goblin or ghoul jumped out and made him take a step backwards, she had gripped him tighter and offered to protect him from whatever laid ahead. He did suspect that she was just egging him on, but getting to be that close to her was not without benefits. The zombie looking creature that startled her right into his arms and had her burrowing her head into his neck had his utmost respect and gratitude. And the disembodied voice that told them to move along when that position led to a long and slow kiss that he wasn't sure he wanted to stop, well, it deserved a stern talking to about timing.
Not all of their adventure was scary. She had ran for the go-karts and after three races around the track (she won two) they had taken her victory round in the same car with her situated between his legs and his chin resting on her shoulder. Skee ball turned into all out war with the two of them nearly neck and neck on tickets and winnings until his unexpected string of 100 point shots took him over the edge.
"You're pretty talented," she said, looping one arm over his neck and rising up onto her toes to brush her lips against his. The tip of her nose was brushing over his cheek when he felt her right hand snake down his chest find his fist full of tickets earned from his higher points total. Her lips back on his in an instant unfocused his attention on that prize and left his hand empty when she pulled away with a smirk. "Never underestimate my pickpocketing skills." To his amusement she skipped away from him with both their booty of tickets in her hands, giving him a sly look over her shoulder as she disappeared into the small crowd there on a Saturday night.
He caught up to her a few moments later, noting on the way a photo booth that included a computerized way of drawing a caricature of them. Maybe she would be up for trying that next, as it would give them a chance to cool their competitive nature for a few minutes at least. He found her at the tent looking structure where one could turn in the tickets for cheap and gaudy prizes, her upper half leaned over the display case with such treasures as stickers and whistles for the sum of two or five tickets. She had hundreds in her hand and was looking at a wall of inflatable souvenirs that seemed to have caught her attention. He was just catching up with her when she pointed to one and nodded emphatically at the teenager who was struggling to figure out which she meant.
"Found your prize, love?" he asked, sidling next to her and taking in the colorful and overwhelming display of plastic paraphernalia. She grinned excitedly at him as the clerk struggled to retrieve her selection from the second to top row. It might have been because the man next to her crowded her space, but Killian liked to think that she wanted to be closer to him that was the reason she swayed over to land with her body against his side. Whatever the reason, he took advantage and wrapped his arm around her waist.
"It's for you," she said when the item she had selected appeared before them. The inflatable pirate ship was a large item with its sails and flags filled with air. A pirate in a red coat stood at the plastic helm complete with a peg leg, patch, hook for a hand, and a parrot on his shoulder. "You should have a souvenir."
He chuckled, giving it a once over. "You used my own tickets to buy me a prize? I was trying to win you something."
"Now we both have a prize."
***AAA***
Henry popped the handful of kernels in his mouth and frowned at the screen on Mary Margaret's television. "What is that?" he asked, nose scrunching in a perplexed display.
"It's a telephone," David told him, snatching his own handful of popcorn out of the red bowl. "A payphone actually. Before cell phones, those things were everywhere. You paid like a quarter for them."
Staring incredulously at the man, Henry couldn't quite figure out why that seemed to be a little bit off. "You mean you had to go and find one?" Why didn't they just carry them around?"
"Yup. Could be a pain sometimes. You want to know something else? There was no texting. You could only call someone up and talk." He laughed at the horrified expression on the kid's face, making him feel a bit vindicated despite feeling older than dirt at the moment.
"Alright, Grandpa," Mary Margaret said from her own seat on the couch. They had already had dinner of pizza (Henry pointing out it was the second dinner of such in a row) and played a set of video games that Henry had argued were so old and outdated that they were too easy. And then his character died. With popcorn and sodas in hand, they were watching Goonies, one of her favorites and what was turning out to be another history lesson in culture for the preteen. "One of my favorite parts is coming up."
The warm glow of the light in the kitchen and the screen of the television bathed the loft space in shadows. While some might frown that Mary Margaret had her student there in her apartment, the brunette teacher had known Emma for a long time and considered herself a pseudo aunt to the young boy. Retro night seemed to be a good plan, though Henry had a bit of trouble grasping the outdated technology and the reason behind it. She knew it was all for a good cause if Emma's flushed and excited expression had been any indication about it.
Ruby: Any word?
Mary Margaret: No and I'm taking that as a good sign that she's too busy having fun to text.
Ruby: Wonder what they're doing?
Mary Margaret: I doubt I want to know. But she'll be by later to pick up Henry. Don't you have your own date?
Ruby: Yes but I'm bored.
Mary Margaret: I'm not entertaining you on your date.
Ruby: You could call and say there is an emergency.
Mary Margaret: We did that the last two times you went out with someone new. They are going to catch on soon.
Ruby: No worries. I don't date smart guys.
Mary Margaret: What happened to Graham? I thought things were going well.
David shot the teacher a warning look over Henry's head and she sent a quick text to Ruby that they would have to talk later. She was curious, not just about Ruby's current situation but Emma's as well. Emma's dating life usually consisted of her being dragged kicking screaming to some event of calling up their writer friend August to serve as a make do date for an industry event where such a thing was required. She knew that it had to be tough on Emma to even think about dating with her son in tow, but for some reason she had admitted that Killian did seem to be worth the risk. That did make the teacher's heart happy to see her friend not only happy, but embracing the idea of that happiness too. It was probably a tenuous happiness as these things went, but Mary Margaret wasn't going to complain yet.
She was about to reach into the red bowl for her own fist of fluffy kernels when her phone sounded with another text. Apologetically smiling at David, she swiped her finger over the screen with the expectation of some snarky comment from Ruby. Instead it was Emma asking if she would be shot for needing a little more time before picking up Henry, claiming the drive would take longer than she thought.
***AAA***
"I should have warned you about the length of the drive," Killian said as she threw the phone back into her purse. "So much for my best laid plans." Even though she was still smiling and even, if he dared hope, giddy over their fun and games of the evening, she was letting that worried look of motherhood cross her features. He could only guess that things like schedules and responsibilities were being listed in her mind as the sounds of mechanical and computerized games filled the air along with laughter and raucous conversation.
She shook her head vehemently, the blonde ponytail bouncing under the movement. "You are not going to take the blame for that after you have taken me on what is probably the most fun date I've ever experienced. I'm probably stroking your ego here, but I must say you surpassed my expectations of tonight. And I won't even tell you some of the horrible things that crossed my mind when you said to dress down."
"And what would those be?" he asked, walking them over to one of the seats on the boardwalk. It was rather cold and a few snowflakes had fallen, but the lights and portable heaters that were used by the city were keeping them almost comfortable.
"I wondered if you wanted me to volunteer in a soup kitchen or help you paint your house." She took a sip from the hot chocolate that he had braved a long line to bring back for her and nodded her head when he offered her a bit of the caramel corn that he had transported in its bag by way of his pocket. He held a single kernel in between his finger and thumb and teased her with it by dangling it close to her lips and then pulling away. "Then I sort of wondered if you were working for the mob and we were about to put cement shoes on someone."
"Nothing illegal though." His eyes caught hers as she reached out and pilfered some of the sticky treat, popping it into her mouth before chasing it down with her chocolate drink. The slow smile that spread on her face and the way her eyes seemed to have hints of gold in them as she darted out her tongue to taste the chocolate was enough for him to haul her away from all the people and kiss her properly against a backdrop of the lapping water and distant stars. "I do think I made you miss your curfew though. I will have to apologize to Henry for that."
Her laugh was tight as she brought the drink closer to her chest. "I'm not sure that I've ever had one of those."
That statement confused him, his eyes darting upward as his brain recounted the number of times he had seen her sip on the sugary concoction with cinnamon rather than coffee. "I believe you are a bit of a connoisseur of them, love. You and your boy are the two pickiest drinkers around when it comes to your insistence upon cinnamon as a garnish."
Laughing a bit easier, she raised the cup up in a sort of salute. "I didn't mean this," she said, "though I do have to award you points for noticing the cinnamon. Not many people pay that much attention."
"I didn't realize we were keeping score."
"Don't be so literal," she said, nudging into his shoulder. "What I meant was I don't think I ever had a curfew. So it's funny to think of having one at this age."
While they had both shared bits of their pasts over the past week or so, commenting about lacking parental guidance and her still shock and surprise at staying in Storybrooke as long as she had, he was aware that she had kept many of the more delicate and sensitive issues away from his ears. It happened occasionally that a soft and sad look would come over her when she saw something particularly sweet and sentimental between a parent and child. Though it could have been that she was reminded of Henry's younger years, he realized that she was thinking back upon her own childhood. He had similar tales of abandonment, but the fact that he had Liam took away much of that sting. "They are a pesky tradition," he commented. "But in all seriousness I do hope that Henry is not too worried about your whereabouts or upset with your being out with me."
"I think your biggest worry there is that he would be jealous of this place," she laughed. "He would have a blast. If he knew that we spent our first date here, he'd probably start persuading me to let him date already." Her eyes lit up again talking about the child she had raised, her pride in him evident and on display.
"I will have to do something to make it up to the lad for not only depriving him of his mother for the evening but not including him on the outing. But I can't say I'm all that sorry to not have to share your attention this evening. I've enjoyed getting to see this side of you. I think it might not be one you let many others see."
She blushed under the tender and yet intense gaze, choosing to take another sip before answering him. "I don't usually do this sort of thing."
"Play games? Because this is now the second time we have had such fun." His tone was teasing, but there was a softness there that actually encouraged her to share what it was she meant. Taking out the humor and sarcasm was a scary concept.
"I've already told you I am a master at winning games," she said, keeping her own town light. "I just meant I don't usually do these kinds of things just for fun. I am usually busy with work or Henry or trying to get ready for something with work or Henry. When I take time to do something for me, that's when things usually fall apart. So while I'm having fun with you, I'm expecting to go back and find out my son has a broken bone or our apartment burnt down or flooded or something." She laughed. "Karma works that way."
His teeth shone as he smiled and looked out in the direction of the water. "I'm not sure that's how karma works, Emma. You're allowed to have a good time. It's actually encouraged, you know?" Balancing the package of caramel corn between his knees, his raised an eyebrow to ask permission before taking a sip of her drink. "And I must say, again, that I rather fancy this side of you. You are quite beautiful when you let go and laugh."
She ducked her head a bit in disbelief that he would find such a thing attractive. "Maybe our next date could be a comedy club. Lots of laughter there."
Passing her back the cup, he grinned. "Are you asking me out on a second date, Ms. Swan?"
Her hand closed over his and she gifted him with a thoughtful pursing of her lips. "I assumed you were going to ask me out again," she said with a falsely modest sincerity. "Isn't that what this is leading up to, Killian? The compliments? The noticing that I like cinnamon? The letting me win? You want to go out again." She shivered as a blast of wind broke through the heaters and past the intermittent walls. He looked at her sympathetically and hugged her to him.
"You seem to think I have dubious reasons for wanting to spend time with you, love, but I suppose you have a point. I would enjoy spending more time with you. And if you would like a comedy club, I will find one and get us tickets. After all, I do have a point to prove too."
Taking a page out of his book, she grabbed some of the kernels out of the bag and popped them into her mouth. "What would that be?"
"That karma doesn't work like that."
***AAA***
The snow had begun to fall more steadily when Emma saw the welcome to Storybrooke on the horizon. The ride back had been a relaxed version of the other events of the evening, both challenging each other to silly road trip kinds of games and trying to list all 50 states in alphabetical order. The fact that Killian, who had lived more of his life outside the country, had named 38 before messing up compared to her 26 was something she was not going to mention to anyone.
"I truly don't mind," he told her as he flipped on the windshield wipers to brush back some of the frosty white flakes. "My jeep is better equipped and it will take just that much longer for you to gather your car and drive to Mary Margaret's loft."
She shifted in her seat, considering his offer. The very fact that the heater on the jeep was already on and running was reason enough to say yes. Her old yellow bug would still be sputtering out heat in bursts and not even warm by the time she had fetched Henry and returned home. But still she wondered if it was the most prudent decision to make since she was not sure she wanted Henry to see her coming home from a date with Killian. And leave it to Killian, he read her mind.
"You don't want him to see us? Or you don't want Mary Margaret to see us?"
Her head lolling to one side and one shoulder raised, she scrunched her face. "Well…"
"I understand," he said a bit reluctantly. "But can I point out that she certainly knows that I was a part of your date night and I believe Henry does too."
"I'm aware," she said, her hands going in front of her face. "Okay, it's stupid, but here it is. I was just thinking that usually a date ends with a good night kiss. And if we pick up Henry…"
"Ahhh…" he said, nodding slowly. "We could rectify that I suppose. I could kiss you good night before we pick the lad up. Or we could be quite bold and send him inside your place before I have that honor." He sounded so nonchalant, as though he were coming up with a business plan rather than talking about a kiss. She wondered if he was trying to negotiate.
"You are persistent," she said, her hand pulling at her seatbelt. "I kind of like that."
His eyes stayed on the road, but the small smirk was enough to make her realize that he knew exactly what she was doing. "Or we could be really bold and end the date with a handshake."
She turned her head fast to stare at him, her jaw lowering as she realized he did not seem to be joking until peals of laughter rang out that he had been trying to hold in unsuccessfully. "Jerk," she said, slapping his shoulder. "I think you owe me a kiss. The winner was supposed to get a funnel cake, but we didn't get to the stand before it closed. So I think that my prize should be a kiss."
"Oh you do?" he asked, obviously noticing that she was being more flirty than usual. She was normally a subtle version of this part of herself, but the very fact that she was asking for affection made him think about pulling the jeep over to properly give her everything she could possibly ask for and more. Yet there was her son to think about and the worsening weather that they had luckily gotten just ahead of to miss the brunt of it. "Well, fair is fair, love. I'll have to pay up. Though it might be a huge inconvenience."
***AAA***
Mary Margaret bent and picked up the last of the clean bowls from the dishwasher, adding it to the stack on her counter as David wiped up the old plank table that she had repurposed for her dining room. It was probably a little on the feminine side with the pastel colored paint she had chosen and the mismatched parsons chairs each with floral details, but it was a reflection of her true self. The loft was her first space that was truly her own. She had her bedroom downstairs with screens she had hung with David's help to block it off from the rest of the space. Upstairs there was a bed for guests, a desk for her computer, and a space for her crafts and teaching projects.
Resting a hip on the edge of the counter, she watched him tuck the chairs under the table and center the flowers just as she had asked him to do a dozen times in the past. He did look at home there, despite the faded blue denim and sweatshirt of some team or rock band that she didn't even recognize. She'd been to his place before. While hers was practically a garden with florals and live plants on most surfaces, his was more of a mismatch of leather and comfort. Everything in his place was oversized where hers was more delicate. His books did not just rest on shelves, but found their way to every available surface. It was not rare to find that there were stray coffee cups with the remnants drying or a forgotten list of things that no longer made sense written on the back of a bill that he never quite remembered if he paid without doing a little research.
"You zoning out there?" he asked, breaking her daze with a little hip bump as he stepped around her to finish putting away the dishes. "I know we wore Henry out, but are you tired too?"
"I was just thinking," she said, turning her attention to the silverware that needed to be sorted. "Do you really think that we should…"
"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't think it was a good idea," he said with a shrug. "I know you're traditional, but living together isn't a bad idea. The lease is coming up on my place so I either have to re-sign it or find another place. That made me think that maybe we should be talking about this together. Most nights we are at my place or yours."
He had a point, she thought, lining up the spoons to fit in their slot. Yes, they did spend most nights together, waking up in the same bed and sharing late nights together in intimate embraces. Living together was the practical thing. They would save money and time. Their belongings would all be in one spot and there would not be those awkward moments of finding out that one of them had forgotten a toothbrush or even underwear. It had evolved to the point that they both had a drawer at the other's place, but that seemed both physically and emotionally small in comparison to the idea of official cohabitation. But she didn't want practical. She wanted romantic. She wanted a proposal with flowers and candles, not a mention of a lease coming to its end while washing dishes.
"You make a good point," she said reluctantly.
He seemed to have at least realized she was not totally on board with the idea at the same time her cell phone went off to alert them that Emma had arrived. Leaning awkwardly to get the best view of the street parking from the window, one leg in the air and her hands on the sill, she ignores his request to talk about it more. She instead busied herself gathering Henry's jacket and backpack, as well as some bag for Emma that she said were things she had found and wanted her to have.
"Killian's down there," she screamed in a whisper to him, frowning when he didn't mirror her enthusiasm. "Don't you think that's sweet?"
He nodded absently, handing her the comic book to put in Henry's bag and wondering how to wake the kid up without getting slugged because he appeared to be restless with a tendency to throw his arms about in his sleep. Her frustration over his lacking enthusiasm was apparent, but she ignored him as she ran to the door.
Emma reached the top of the stairs at the same time the teacher threw back the door. The two women embraced with both looking over the other's shoulder to see what was going on without asking. Disappointed, she frowned and simply said, "Killian?"
"Down in the jeep keeping it warm," Emma said, giving a short wave to David. "Being a gentleman."
David helped gather Henry for her and sort of pushed on his shoulder until he walked her direction, a sugar, carb, and slumber caused stupor that made him sort of weave and fall into his mother more than hug her. It took both women to put his coat on and David pulled the cap on his head and pulled his gloves on as the boy's jaw cracked with a yawn.
"Thank you again for this," Emma said, catching Henry from sleep walking over the edge of the landing by looping a finger through his belt loop. "I'll call you later?"
David was faster than Mary Margaret at answering. "I'm looking forward to it." He grinned wildly. "We totally need to catch up on your date. Like are you going out again? Where did he take you? What did you eat? Was there any hand holding?" His imitation of Mary Margaret was perfectly in sync, but it did not earn him any points with the teacher.
"Text when you're home?" she asked, giving one more hug. "I want to know you're safe."
***AAA***
Ruby was the first one to stop by Emma's apartment that Sunday, bringing Henry the latest comic book that she had seen at the drug store. It was a bribe, but since she had called twice and received no answer, she was a bit desperate for conversation. With Henry occupied, Ruby disappeared behind Emma's bedroom door and threw herself crosswise onto the bed.
"Did you get new sheets?" she asked, her sunglasses that seemed out of place with 10 inches of freshly fallen snow on the ground were perched on top of her head. "These seem like new sheets."
"They aren't new," Emma said, her back against the headboard and legs crossed under her. In front of her was her iPad and an angry email from Regina, as well as two newspaper articles she had written about Elsa and Anna's performance. They weren't exactly negative or positive, but Regina was upset and that meant it was a priority on a Sunday afternoon.
"I've never seen them," she mused, reaching out and running a hand over the material. "Did you change your sheets because of him?"
"No," came the indignant response from Emma. "It was a date. I don't sleep with every guy who asks me out."
"Unlike me?" Ruby asked, a resigned sigh escaping her chest. "We'll get back to you and the hottie music teacher in a minute. I need to talk about me right now. Can I be the mess right now?" Ruby's dark lashes fluttered as she grabbed one of Emma's throw pillows and hugged it tightly to her chest.
Dropping the article that she had been distractedly reading, Emma nodded. "You've got 10 minutes to break down. Five minutes for me to clean you up. And then I have to go and save my job. Okay?"
Ruby bobbed her head once, rolling to her side with the pillow still tightly clutched. "Do you think there is something wrong with me?" she asked after a few false starts. "I mean seriously?"
Emma tilted her friend as she looked curiously at the woman on her bed and assessed the normally over confident friend. For what seemed like one of the first times ever Ruby looked almost vulnerable and insecure as she stared back. "I'm not sure that asking me that question counts since I'm hardly normal, but you seem the same as always to me. What's going on with you? Why are you asking this?"
"I had a date last night," Ruby said as if that was some sort of revelation. She was never one to be without companionship. "You know Billy from the garage? Cute, kind of quiet?"
"I know who he is, but I'm trying to figure out what happened to Graham. I thought things were going well there."
"Billy asked me out. He's nice. I know I don't usually go for nice, but he's nice."
Emma nodded slowly. "I get it. He's nice. You gave him a chance."
Ruby rolled her eyes as if she hadn't just said the same thing. "You know I like first dates. The mystery. The anticipation. The variety." She groaned and clutched the pillow tighter. "So when he asked I was looking forward to it. He's kind of cute. Then we're eating chicken parm and drinking wine. I was kind of bored with the conversation. You know it all seemed so tired and so done. How many times can you talk about your favorite movie or where you vacationed as a child? Seriously? I even tried to get Mary Margaret to help me out and get me out of the date. She didn't. So I turn back to him and he said, 'I never thought you'd go out with me again.' Again? As in we've out before! I forgot, Emma! I date so many men looking for Mr. Right that I freaking lost track. What if I had slept with him? What if I realized that during sex?"
"Okay," Emma said with a practiced patience for her friend's outbursts. She was used to Ruby's freak outs. "So you didn't remember. I guess he didn't leave that good of an impression."
"I can't blame the guys," Ruby said as she rolled onto her back again and groaned. "There are two options here. I'm losing my mind and memory or I am dating too many men. I need help, Emma. Don't Mary Margaret me and give me lectures. Be Emma. Tell me what to do!"
"Why do you think I know what to do?" Emma asked incredulously. "I have no clue."
Thoughts?