I realize many of us are still enjoying all the goodness and details from SDCC, dying over the cuteness of pics, and enjoying spoilers, teasers, and such. However, I finished this chapter last night and wanted to share it with you. Apologies for the long length. Thank you again for all your support over this. Your reviews and comments are so awesome and make me smile every time.
When David returned from work that Wednesday he was not greeted by the sight of his enthusiastic and affectionate fiancé who was usually anxious for his return. Instead her normally smiling face was frowning as she looked past his shoulder to see if someone or something else might be behind him. He shook it off, along with his gym bag that he had situated on his shoulder while looking for his keys.
"You're expecting someone," he said, bending to brush his lips against hers. Even that didn't garner much of a response as she apologized and headed back to the cluttered dining table where Emma and Killian both sat. "I'll try not to be offended."
"Sorry," she muttered again, settling in with a once white binder and flipping through yellowed and crackling pages with the clear intention of finding something. "I called for reinforcements. Regina's friend, Katheryn left a little bit ago. She offered some legal advice." It was clear that she was not all that happy to have to entertain the woman who had once been engaged to her own fiancé, but she had put on a brave face for it.
It wasn't that he was surprised to see the other couple there, as Mary Margaret had spent the last few days on the phone with them or some of the teachers she worked with or had once gone to school with talking about Killian's meeting with Mr. Gold. He could appreciate that stubborn set of her jaw and the way that she was so focused on finding a loophole that she was not even worrying over the wedding details. Just a few weeks ago there had been the influx of cake flavors that had taken over the space. He liked cake as much as the next guy, but she had been obsessed with the selection process and created score cards for each and provided palate cleansers between each tasting. When she asked which flavor he had liked, she was disappointed that he only responded with, "the chocolate one." According to her, at least 11 of the 20 were chocolate.
However, the stationary sample books, menu ideas, and craft projects had been placed in a far corner to make way for present and past employment handbooks and a variety of print outs from schools and school systems. The trio were each approaching the task in different ways. While Killian had a neatly scribed pad of notes with his findings, Mary Margaret was using highlighters and little flags to mark important passages. Emma's approach was a bit more haphazard, as she wrote notes in the margin that were in a shorthand only she understood.
"Any luck?" he asked cautiously, grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator.
"Not as such, mate," Killian answered for the trio, taking a moment to straighten up from his hunched position. "I rather think this is like that search for the allusive needle in the haystack. We've found no precedent of anyone overcoming the disregard for the rules. Katheryn was of some assistance, but she admitted that Gold probably already has all his t's crossed and dotted all the i's."
"We also can't find a lot on the rule itself," Emma added, her vague smile indicative of her confusion whether that was a good or bad thing. "It's all a lot of talk of teachers adhering to a moral code that will not impugn their character or seek to dissolve the sanctity of the relationship between parent and child. Whatever that crap means."
David nodded, gesturing to a box that was sitting in the otherwise empty fourth chair. "Started on these yet?" he asked. Moments later he was bent over the same dusty and faded documents.
They were all pretty silent about their work, an occasional hum of appreciation for some tidbit would turn to a frustrated grunt as they turned the page and moved on from the false hope. One or another would occasionally get up to grab some of the snacks that Mary Margaret had laid out on the kitchen island, an assortment of her own cooking and some items Ruby had dropped off. And far less frequently one of them would interrupt the others to read a passage aloud and briefly discuss or discount it just as quickly.
"I think…" Mary Margaret announced, running her finger across the text in a way of double checking herself. "I think I may have an idea."
Killian leaned closer to the spiral bound handbook that she was reading, hoping to glimpse a clue as to her findings. However, she was holding it close and rereading it silently before she spoke again.
"This," she said, thumping the page, "is a handbook from Storybrooke Academy in 1982. I've already checked 1981 and no such rule exists in it. So I think it is safe to say that this is the original version of the standard on the issue." She looked at the three inquisitive faces and preened a bit, feeling like a star attorney. "It only states that personal relationships between any teacher and parent should be considerate of the student's wellbeing and emotional health."
David's brow furrowed as he let the words sink over him. "That's…uhhh…vague."
Tongue darting out the corner of his mouth, Killian accepted the handbook from the other teacher and began to read the passage himself. However, Emma's reaction was a bit more positive. "That's kind of the point," she said, dropping her pen on her stack of items. She leaned closer to Killian, her head almost on his shoulder as she skimmed over the material. "We know that Killian disregarded Gold's warning that he should not date me. However, if the rules themselves don't specifically say that we can't date…"
"Then he didn't break a rule," David finished. "Good point. People often get out of speeding tickets because the signage is damaged or nonexistent. You can't break a rule or law if you are not given adequate notice of it." His fiancé looked at him appreciatively. "I've had to testify in traffic court enough to hear that statement from the judge."
Killian handed the handbook back to his colleague. "That's a brilliant find, love, but it's also pretty dated. We need to see if the rule has been amended or updated since then."
Reaching out and squeezing his hand, Emma smiled. "But it's a place to start."
Discarding the other boxes for a moment, the gang dove into the box marked handbooks and rules, each trying to find the similar notations. They were up to 1995 with no clear change to the rule, which was making Mary Margaret giddy with the idea that they had finally found their magic bullet for the case. However, Emma and especially Killian were more cautious. They still had more than a decade to go in the books. Panic ensued when there was a slight edit to the wording in 1998. However, it turned out to be a typo that had to be changed. By 2003 there was no substantive change other than to add online communications to the list. In 2010 there was an added section about social media and befriending or following students or parents there.
"It looks like we might have just proven our point," Mary Margaret announced smugly when they reconfirmed the text in the latest edition. She folded her hands on the slight swell of her abdomen and grinned. "We did it."
"Forgive me, but I don't think we should celebrate prematurely. This is lovely that it does not say that the only way to break this rule is by my dating or living with Emma, but it still doesn't condone our relationship. I'm afraid I don't share your enthusiasm." Emma's fingers were wrapped in Killian's palm and her thumb stroked his skin.
"But don't you see," Mary Margaret said, still beaming despite their skeptical stares at her, "if the rule is too vague, it means that most all of us have broken it at some point. Henry's spent the night here at this very loft. That's against the rules as they are written. John from the horticulture classes – he is practically a nanny to Robin's son, Roland. There are dozens of examples."
Emma sat perplexed as she considered this. "So you're suggesting that Killian's best defense is to throw other teachers under the bus? That seems a little low."
"Emma, it is the best defense we have so far," David chimed in, scrolling through his phone. "The theory would be that if so many people were breaking this vague rule that it would be impossible to enforce."
"It seems like a long shot, mate," Killian muttered. "I'm not sure I trust Gold enough. What's to say he won't fire me anyway, claiming that I am the example for the others?"
Mary Margaret, smiled even brighter, leaning in as if she needed to whisper her ideas to them. "That's where my other part of the plan comes into play."
***AAA***
Zelena's thin frame moved easily through the crowd over to the bar, settling at the end of it where she leaned precariously forward. With her low cut top, she was clearly on display as she smiled pleasantly at the young bartender that Liam had hired.
"Is it wrong that I don't like her?" Elsa hissed to Ruby, the two women situated at the coveted corner booth. "I appreciate all that the label has done for us, but she's just so…"
"Slimey?" Ruby supplied, grinning behind her drink. "I don't trust her at all. She's got that way about her." The brunette scrunched up her nose. "Look at that. She can't even talk to that guy without touching him. What's that about?"
It was a catty conversation, but Elsa had to admit that she found the other woman's take on the situation refreshing. Emma was much more reserved about her distaste for the woman who was technically still her boss too. And Mary Margaret rarely spoke ill of anyone. With Ruby it was open season. "She's done a pretty good job with this place. With Liam's help of course."
The bar had been a tired and dirty location, its walls and floors stained with many a drunken night. The bottles behind the bar had been dusty reminders and the taps a boring combination of beers that had long since gone out of favor. Even the stage and its equipment were relics that rarely worked and according to Liam cost plenty to repair. Now things were not only newer but higher quality. He was very proud by the results so far.
"I used to love this place, as dark and gloomy as it was," Ruby said, giving a small wave to an old friend across the room. "But your boyfriend has done marvels with this place. I'm almost not afraid to go to the restroom here."
"Almost?"
"Well, it's still a public toilet."
The women both laughed as Liam approached and widened out his arms to stretch around both, giving one a kiss on the cheek and then the other before settling himself next to Elsa. "Nothing makes this place better than a few beautiful lasses enjoying libations and music."
"You just like that we're paying customers," Ruby teased back. "Unless Elsa's status as your girlfriend earns me a free drink or two?" The table already held a few empty cocktail glasses and a half eaten basket of appetizers.
"I think more than two in your case, Lady Lucas. So what do you two think? Are we ready for the grand re-opening?" It was not as though the bar had been closed during the renovations, but as they neared completion, the plans were to hold a very large celebration of the new ownership and look. Zelena was already entertaining several offers for live performances and Liam had been interviewing new staff all week. If the remaining details held up, the place was going to be a hit. And both ladies told him as much.
"As much as I'd love to throw a few back with the two of you, I best be seeing to my work. Anton can only work behind the bar for so long without needing reinforcements." He pushed his lips against Elsa's form a brief but searing kiss, holding to her hand even after he pulled back and then placing a kiss along her knuckles. "I'll be back in a bit. I'll also see about having someone clear this table for the two of you. Can't have anything detracting from the beauty over here."
Elsa watched as Liam sauntered behind the bar, slapped Anton's back in a friendly sort of way and began to fill orders from a few of the louder patrons. She was smiling, which must have been amusing to Ruby by the way she cleared her throat. "What?"
"You two are just so good together. I can't find the right words though. You're not Mary Margaret and David fairy tale cute. You're not opposites attract and ignite cute like Regina and Robin. And while I don't even want to know what goes on in the bedroom, you're not hot and steamy like Emma and Killian. No, it's something else."
Elsa blushed, looking back over to where Liam was pouring something from a blue bottle into a martini glass. He caught her eye and winked. "Are you really trying to analyze it?" she asked. "Didn't you do that enough with Granny when you two decided we were a good match?"
Humming over the rim of her glass, Ruby appraised her friend. "Granny is better at that than I am. I just sort of help push people together, but were we wrong? He's hot as hell and he thinks you hung the moon. Good match." She snapped her fingers like that was all that it took. "Were we wrong?"
"No," Elsa drawled out. "But I do wonder sometimes how she saw that and we didn't."
"Well, you were pretty closed off, but according to Granny, you were also lonely. All you had was your sister and your music really. I mean you had your friends, but you were pretty much a loner. Liam was surrounded by his friends and had the same passion for music. You both are older siblings who love and adore your younger brother or sister. And you both seem to fit well. He's brash and loyal. You're reserved and fiercely protective of those you love."
"I guess I owe the two of you a thank you then," Elsa said, nodding to the drink. "If we were paying, I'd buy you one."
"Not a problem," Ruby laughed. "Besides, you know the deal. When the two of you get married, Granny does the catering. She'll charge you a fortune for buffet food, but you'll be too gloriously happy and in love to care."
***AAA***
Emma half pushed and half dragged a nearly comatose Henry to his bed, fighting with him to get his shoes off and giving up before getting him any more undressed. He could do it himself when he awoke later, she considered as he flopped into a heap on his unmade bed. Tucking his shoes under his bed and turning out the light on the nightstand, she crept out of the room with a final glance at his innocent face. She was grateful that she had such a good kid, one who was kind to others, smart, talented, and loving. She was lucky indeed. While she was standing by Killian the next day, she was glad that David had agreed to bring him along and distract him. She was lucky to have friends who cared for her son and became the family that she had lacked.
Killian was just getting back from walking Robin and Roland out to their car when she emerged back into the living room. His movements seemed more like reflex as he picked up a few out of place things and righted them, even finding a stack of pillows under the piano bench and an empty juice box tucked inside. "I believe Roland may have been trying to build a fort," he mused as Emma wiped up the counter in the kitchen.
"Probably. Henry loved to do that at that age. He'd have me help him build one with pillows, the dining chairs, and sheets. Then he'd spend all afternoon in there looking at his little storybooks. He always wanted me to say that we could leave it up forever and that he could spend the night in it."
Killian smiled at the memory she was sharing of her son, his mind trying to conjure up an image of a younger Henry and his mother. While he was sure that young and single motherhood were not easy for her, he did not doubt that she was quite lovely even then. And though she had rightly said it was too soon to discuss, he couldn't help but picture the idea of one or two of their own someday fashioning forts in the living room and having indoor family campouts as they roasted marshmallows in the fireplace. But he shook off that thought as the reality of his life crashed back into him.
"Thank you for standing by me through this," he said, rather clumsily for a man who usually had a way with words. "I know it can't be easy to deal with Neal and his father after everything you've…"
"This isn't about how I feel about Neal or his father," Emma said, wiping her hands on the red dish towel. "Mary Margaret is right about it being unfair to the other teachers too. If he wins this round against you, then who is to say it won't stop? What if he decides to go after someone else?" She frowned, shaking her head. "But I'm not in it for that totally either. Killian, this whole thing against you is all because we fell in love. And as insecure as I can be about someone loving me, I'm not about to give you up because my ex is upset and his father is a power hungry jerk." She lifted her chin up defiantly, arms crossing over her chest and her eyes narrowing in preparation. "I'm good at fighting and we will win."
"You," Killian said, stepping purposely over to her, "are brilliant at fighting. You're a bloody soldier when you are determined to get what you want. I would not wish to cross you and find it a comfort to know we are on the same side here." He tugged at her wrist until her arms fell away from their protected stance. "And as for you being insecure about my love for you, I will do everything I can to prove it to you. I'm in this for the long haul, Emma. And I hope that you will be there with me."
Her eyes cast downward, she gave into his embrace, one arm around his back and the other hand over his chest. "You know that I don't doubt you love, right? I don't. Not really. I just sometimes wonder how it is that you can love me when I don't feel that I deserve that."
"That's when you need it most. And I know that you love me too, even when I am at my most unworthy. I think that is what makes us work so well together. Don't you, love?"
She rose onto the balls of her feet, bringing herself into better eyelevel with him. "Whatever the outcome of that meeting, Killian, I'm going to love you. You're willing to give up so much for what we have and that absolutely floors me. I'm sorry that I could ever doubt you because of what others have done in the past. If things got hard or even looked like they might, they ran. But you're staying with me is probably the most romantic thing I've ever seen."
He scoffed at the compliment in that way he often did when people spoke well of him. Lifting her hand off his chest, she turned his face toward her again and encouraged him to look at her. "I love you."
"I love you too, Emma," he echoed. "I am concerned about that meeting tomorrow, but knowing I get to come home to you no matter the outcome is a far cry better than any alternative." They kissed languidly, both seeking a bit of solace and reassurance after their confessions of doubt and insecurity. His mouth slid over hers with a graceful glide as she breathed him in, her fingers lightly delving into the short hairs at the nape of his neck.
With an orchestrated lift, he hauled her up into his arms, ready to carry her back to their room and neglect the other small tasks of closing up the house for the night. She stopped him and found herself at the receiving end of one of those questioning, eyebrow lifting looks.
"I have something for you," she said shyly, shaking her head at the absurdity of her nervousness. "That sounds so ominous. I have a gift for you. I was thinking to give it to you after this whole meeting mess was over, but I changed my mind."
"Did you now? I'm not ashamed to admit I'm intrigued." He lowered her to the ground, not quite stepping out of her reach as she steadied herself. "What have I done to deserve a gift? My birthday is not for a few months and the holidays are at least five months away."
"I know," she said, biting down on her lower lip and worrying the flesh with her teeth. "It's just that…well, it will make more sense if you see it." She gave him another tentative grin before grabbing his hand with her own and pulling him along up the stairs to the attic workspace. He had not been up there since the day before and took a moment to marvel at the progress. Much of the drywall was now hung and the rooms were beginning to resemble actual rooms. She gave no hint as to what she was doing, crossing into the new office space and stopping at the window seat. Hand still connected with his, she pulled open the lid and revealed a cardboard box longer than his arm with a burlap bow and a card with only his name scrawled in her print.
It seemed redundant to ask if it was for him, but he did anyway. That made them both laugh at the absurdity of it. With her help, they pulled off the bow and he lifted the lid to expose the polished and intricately designed telescope. It was brandished with wood and brass, a true antique that was the type to have sat in houses up and down the east coast from the time when sailors would be away for months at a time and their wives and loved ones kept watch for the horizon and signs of their return. She was cradling the box in her arms, fidgeting as he ran a finger along the metal ring.
"I picked it up the other day when Elsa, Anna, and I were traveling back. You see, I was thinking, and I realized that lately when I think of you that I can see a future for us. Not just living here, but maybe…maybe even more of a future someday. And I know it's scary and that I freak out at that sometimes, but I want that future, Killian. So I thought that maybe if you wanted that we could take that step and look at our future together. God, this sounds so cheesy."
"I want that too, Emma, more than anything." He scratched at a spot under his jaw before reaching back to lift the instrument out of the case. "Thank you, my love, it's a fine one. A perfect gift."
"The man that sold it to me said it's pretty old, but that it still works perfectly. I thought that maybe…" Her voice faded as she disappeared out of the room and returned a moment later with a heavy stand. "I thought that maybe we could put it in here and have a space to look at the stars."
"Aye, another brilliant idea," he said, helping her to settle it onto the rigging and adjust its position to point over the boats and fishing cabins that dotted the landscape. When it was finally stable, she stepped back and gestured for him to have the first look. He looked toward her with a bit of a hesitancy about the propriety of going first, but accepted the lead and squinted one eye shut as he looked out onto the moonlit water. "There is no sight like a full moon on the waves. The view is why I picked this house when I moved here. To be able to enjoy its splendor from inside the comfort of our home is a wonderful gift."
"You are most peaceful when you are on the water or near it," she observed, backing away from him to sit on the bench on the opposite wall. "See that is what I meant by the future, Killian. I want that with you. I want a home. And while moving in together has been a great thing in terms of a place to stay, I realized that what you are really offering me and Henry here is a home with you. You've been so thoughtful to include parts of us in everything, from hanging pictures that Henry has taken on the walls to switching to my bed sheets because I find them more comfortable. Don't think I haven't noticed that you stopped buying two types of coffee and started only getting the kind I drink. And you've turned your schedule and days upside down so that Henry can stay at home and not be shuffled all about town while I work. And so I wanted to give you a piece of that, a symbol, if you will, that when I look out at that horizon I see the future – our future."
"Emma…"
"And you once said that this home together is our future. So I wanted to make sure that you could see it just as clearly as me." She wasn't all that shocked when he tilted the telescope back to resting and joined her on the bench. "You've been fighting for us, fighting for our future. I wanted to thank you for that. And I wanted to show you that you're not alone in that fight."
***AAA***
Liam sat with Elsa in the diner, the back corner having been reserved for those who were not able to attend the meeting for Killian's job at Storybrooke Academy. Ruby was there as well, as she had told her grandmother she was too nervous to wait tables that morning, flanked by Anna and Kristoff. Robin and Roland came in a little later, the younger unaware of the reasons for their visit other than he got his smiley face pancakes and plenty of attention. Having taken a special liking to Elsa and Emma, he had headed straight for the blonde, settling into her side as they waited for both his breakfast and any word.
"Killian might be too angry to call," Liam thought aloud, "Someone might should have…"
"Emma and Mary Margaret both have instructions to text me the moment the meeting is over," Elsa said with Ruby echoing. The two women were just as anxious for the verdict so to speak as the rest of them. Perhaps the only inhabitant of their little enclave that wasn't on pins and needles was Will.
"So I'm thinking we should start a betting pool," he told Jefferson, slouched down in the seat like it was just too hard to sit up. "Could make a tidy sum."
"Put it to rest, Scarlet," Robin groused from his spot. "We're talking about a man's livelihood here, not the latest friendly." The widowed father was balancing his son's backpack of crayons, coloring books, an electronic game, and a couple of picture books as he searched for his own phone in the mess.
"I was only trying to make some fun out of this bloody mess," Will threw back at him. "No need in us all looking down in the mouth while waiting on the news." He continued muttering to himself about nobody listening to him and the lack of ability to actually change the outcome for Killian. That might have been why Jefferson headed over to the counter and ordered a breakfast platter for his daughter and found a new seat with her.
"Roland, I don't think the sky is supposed to be purple," Elsa said as the boy slashed marks with his crayon across the top of the page. "Let's look outside. See that's blue." Actually it was more gray than blue, but her point was the same.
"Emma likes purple and red. Henry told me." He never looked up from the page, only occasionally sneaking a hand out to snag one of the fried potato tot hashbrowns that Granny had included with the pancakes.
"Are you drawing that picture for Emma?" Elsa inquired quietly, wondering what Emma's color preferences had to do with the drawing and finding no other possible conclusion.
"Papa said that Emma and Killian needed to do something about the walls in their house," he explained with the exasperated patience of most six year olds. "So I thought a nice picture would do." He threw down the purple crayon and picked a green one next for the grass. His little tongue tipped out of his mouth as he concentrated on his art.
"You don't want ask about that," Robin said, dropping down in the seat across from where Liam was scrolling through his phone and Elsa was pondering the artistic interpretation of a rising first grader. "There are four basic rules to parenting and childcare, milady. First, if they say they don't feel well, get out of the way before they can succumb to that illness and shower you with it."
Elsa glanced at Roland, who was paying no attention his father at all. "What about the other three rules?"
Robin caught one of the crayons as it began to roll off the table, knocked out of place by Roland's reach for more food. The dark eyed boy wrinkled his nose and passed the tot to Elsa, who accepted it with a surprised look. "It has syrup on it," he said as if he couldn't believe he had to explain that.
"Rule two is that food should not touch each other. It's quite alright to mix the food in your stomach, but not on your plate." The father chuckled, plucking a similarly doused tot from the plate and popping it in his own mouth. "Rule three is don't say anything in front of a lad that you don't wish misinterpreted and or repeated." He leaned over the plate, nearly dragging his arm over the half eaten pancakes. "Henry and I were discussing that perhaps he would benefit from the upstairs room at the house, as it appears there is little insulation in the walls."
"Oh," Elsa said, realization dawning on her. "Oh!"
"No, no, no. There hasn't been an incident yet. Nothing too damaging anyway, as the lad said, but best to be safe about it." Liam stifled a chuckle and muttered something about his brother's lack of control when it came to Emma.
"And the final rule? Do I even want to know?"
Robin barely got that rule out as he chased down Roland, who was headed to the restroom. "Never let them out of your sight," he yells, nearly colliding with Ruby as she returned.
Elsa sipped at her iced coffee, leaning her head over on Liam's shoulder. "You're worried, aren't you?"
Sighing, he tilted his head so that it rested on hers. "Killian loves that job. When Milah died in that crash, I worried for my brother that he might shatter. He came here, had no plan, no goal other than moving past that heartache and pain. And the first thing he found was that job. It saved him. He loves his students. Brags about them as if they were his own lads and lasses. If this git honestly thinks that he can take call this away from Killian because his jealous son…"
"You know that whatever happens, it's going to be okay," she soothed, covering his hand with her own. "He's got Emma and Henry fighting for him. He has friends. He has you."
"I just want him to be happy. He's worked hard to be happy."
***AAA***
"I think it might rain," Emma said absently as they waited in the outer office. It's dark blues and rich burgundy décor seemed almost dreary with the lack of light coming in through the shuttered windows. The whole school had taken on that musty odor of disuse from the summer and this area was no different.
Killian nodded absently, tapping his fingers on the table between them. He wasn't really ignoring her as much as his mind was filled with possible conversations and scenarios. This could all go in so many different ways, he thought. He had a list of things he could say to Gold, a plethora of insults and jabs that might not save his career but would feel damn good to get off his chest. However, he had promised Emma to do his best to stay on track and play up the plan that Mary Margaret had laid out for them.
"Killian, look at me," Emma said, trying to snap him out of the stupor of panic and near catatonic state he seemed to be in at that moment. "You can't let him see you like this. He has to see you as the confident and strong man you are."
"Aye, it's just getting to me. The waiting? I much prefer to be a man of action."
The square shaped room was filling up quickly with other teachers who Mary Margaret and Killian had spoken to about being their either to speak or to show support in other ways. John, the bear of a man who ran the horticulture classes, looked gruff and tall as usual, but had changed out his normal flannel and denim for a crisp pair of pants that could have used a swipe with an iron and a shirt with a tie that didn't quite reach his belt. Gwen, one of the math teachers, was there also. Her smile tight but comforting as she shook Killian's hand and took a seat next to Lance, a history teacher. Mary Margaret was one of the later ones to arrive, a bit out of breath and profusely apologizing and thanking each of them one at a time.
Merida, one of the office staff at the school, gave the group a polite nod, informing them that she could open up another room to allow them to be more comfortable. Everyone refused, preferring to stay together in the smaller space. Her ginger hair was the color of a blazing sunset and wild with untamed curls that seemed to overtake her slight frame. However, Killian knew from experience that anyone who underestimated the feisty woman was in for a surprise. She was one of the few to talk back to the school's head master.
The meeting, which was supposed to commence at 9:30 a.m., but by 9:45 there was no sign of life behind the closed doors to the conference room other than the occasional shadow passing underneath. Killian was watching the doorknob intently as Mary Margaret gave him encouraging nods and whispered with Emma about different things. He saw it move slightly, coming to the jarring realization that this was about to happen. He sat up straighter and saw the figure of the man pass through the door with no acknowledgement for the assembled group.
Mr. Gold's impeccably tailored suit was a dark charcoal with a silk tie and matching handkerchief. His slight limp was almost nonexistent as he leaned upon an ornately designed cane with gold accents. No one knew just how he had become injured, but rumors persisted over the years that included old war injuries – nobody agreed on which war – and even heroic acts of saving a child from peril. Killian had always assumed it was something far more mundane.
"Your wife called, Mr. Gold," Merida said, passing him one of the old fashioned pink phone message slips. "She asked that you wait for her, as she would like very much to speak with you before this morning's proceedings."
"Ah yes, well this shouldn't take long and then I shall be at her disposal," the man said, turning slowly toward the door. "If you could have my coffee waiting when I return."
"She was quite insistent," Merida continued, undeterred by his obvious lack of concern. "Said she was on her way here. I believe the lass is quite anxious."
"All the more reason to get this out of the way," he said. "Please hold all my calls. And see to it that my car is parked out front. I don't intend to be here all day. Has my son arrived yet?"
Emma bristled, feeling in her gut that Neal had not done anything to stop his father. She knew that he must not have, as the meeting was not cancelled. Still it was disappointing. She said as much when Mary Margaret asked if she was angry.
"No," she said quietly as the man retreated back into the conference room with a comment about starting in just a moment. "I'm just disappointed. In him for being such a jerk. In me for actually believing he would do the right thing. How many times am I going to believe that and be surprised when he doesn't?"
***AAA***
Killian had been inside the conference room maybe three times that he could remember. There was his initial interview, a process that had been remarkably simple and painful all at the same time. And then there was the meeting about one of his students being removed from the school due to parents being unable to pay. He seemed to recall a third time when he'd sat in the burgundy chairs that felt remarkably unstable if you leaned too far, but the details were hazy.
"I'm glad you could join us, Mr. Jones," Gold said in welcome to him. There were four other teachers there in a sort of semicircle in front of him. Their hands all folded behind yellow legal pads and manila folders containing his personnel records. He gave them each a nod. "It appears you have brought quite a few friends with you."
So it had surprised the man, Killian thought. It had been hard to read when Gold had walked through the crowded room if he was shocked to see his faculty coming together for another colleague. "I am quite surprised and humbled by the support as well."
"Yes, I'm sure you are. And are all these people planning to be your character witnesses today, Mr. Jones? Because I don't think we are in need of that. After all, the facts are quite straight forward."
"They are here for their own specific reasons," Killian said, trying not to smirk at the man. He was far from winning and didn't want to ruin his chance by seeming arrogant. Still it was hard not to show a bit of brashness when it came to his taunts. "I suppose you will have to ask them each yourself, as I couldn't possibly know the full details of their reasoning."
The school master's lips twisted a bit as he frowned down at the sheet of paper in front of him. "Well, I don't think we need to waste any time. As the files indicate," he said, addressing the others on the panel. "I have already spoken to Mr. Jones about the inappropriate nature of his relationship with the mother of one of his students. At the time, Mr. Jones made no indication of stopping the relationship. And it has now come to my attention that the relationship has not only continued, but progressed. The couple is currently living together with this student. And while we can all be sympathetic to his plight, it remains that his behavior is in violation and disregard of our code of conduct for faculty." He smiled, a sickeningly sweet grin of a man with hidden secrets of his own. "Would Mr. Jones care to comment?"
"Aye," Killian said, realizing from the group's reaction that they were expecting him to stand to address them. He didn't. "There are a few things, but first I would have a question of my own that I would like addressed."
"A question," Gold repeated, looking slightly amused. "And that question would be?"
"Which rule in particular am I accused of breaking?" Killian asked, his eyebrow arching up with sardonic undertone and the crinkled skin around his eyes showing his own brand of amusement. "You see, I have spent a bit of time reading and studying these books of rules and regulations only to find no specific mention of domestic situations and dating. Perhaps you could enlighten me so that I might be able to better defend myself."
"I should think that would be very clear, Mr. Jones." Gold turned to Archie Hopper, who sat in the corner as the representative of the well-being of the child. "Would you please make note of the rule for him?"
Looking a bit startled at the request, Archie thumbed to the page he was looking for and read the same passage that the group had been pouring over before with the vague wording about the student's wellbeing and emotional health.
"I see," Killian said, as if he had never even considered those words. "But I didn't hear anything about dating or cohabitating with someone. How am I supposed to know that it should be interpreted that way?"
"In what other way could it be interpreted?" Gold asked, flicking his eyes down at the page again. "Surely you must see that it is referring to any inappropriate relationship."
"Forgive me, but I don't see any of my relationships as inappropriate." Killian smiled back, trying to remember the tips that Katheryn had given him. Admit nothing. Keep asking questions. Play up the confusion.
"There have been complaints." Gold waited as the others turned in the file to a letter that sat there, signed by Neal several months ago. "And the main concern here is one of our students, not the state of your relationships."
"I see," Killian said, pretending to think this over. "Could you be more specific? I suppose I'm just a bit confused about what we are talking about here."
***AAA***
With the sky ready to open up, a suited Neal placed the newspaper under his arm and pressed the unlock button on his key fob twice. The battery was low, he decided, hitting it against his hand to reactivate it a bit. Pressing it again, the car door released.
"Dad?"
Surprised, Neal spun around to see Henry standing there a few feet from the car. His face was flushed and hair damp. He'd obviously run all the way there from wherever he had been. "Henry? What are you doing here?"
"I…Everyone thinks I'm with Mr. Nolan…David. He was going to let me watch stuff at the station today, but…I wanted to talk to you."
Neal gave a glance at his phone screen, looking at the time. "Yeah, okay. What's going on, kid?"
"Mom and Killian – they haven't really said, but they are at the school today aren't they? Grandpa is trying to fire Killian because of me?" Henry held to the strap on his backpack, searching his father's face for any sign that he was correct about this.
"No, Henry, this isn't about you. It's about…" Neal stopped, unsure of what he could say at this point. Emma had already asked that he back off, which he had done to a certain degree. He had not asked his father to stop the proceedings, but he had stopped adding to the trouble. "Killian broke certain rules when he started dating your mother. How do you even know about this? I thought that…"
"Mom loves him, you know. And he loves her. If I wasn't around then it wouldn't be a problem. So I have to fix it. I have to." He dipped his head a little lower. "I need your help."
Breathing in sharply through his nose, Neal regarded his son with a soft wonder about when his son had become so grown up. "I don't think you can, son. It's too late."
"Maybe I can't, but you can. You're his son. He'll listen to you. He'll stop this for you. He's your dad. You always say that you'll do anything for me because I'm your son. It's the same thing. Please, Dad, just go talk to him. Tell him that it isn't a bad thing. Killian isn't doing anything wrong. He's not." Henry sounded quite desperate as he pleaded, stepping closer to the car and his father. "What if it was you? What if someone was trying to keep you apart from Tamara? You'd fight back, wouldn't you?"
"It's not the same," Neal managed to say, not adding what he was thinking. He wasn't sure if he was responding to the idea that his father might do anything for him or if he would defend his own relationship. "Henry, I don't think this is what we need to do."
"Mom's happy with Killian," Henry continued. "I'm happy. He takes me out on his boat. I've already learned how to do three different kinds of knots and he's teaching me more. He taught me to play the piano. When I was missing Mom the other week, he was there. He's a good guy. I know you don't like him, but believe me. I don't want him to be punished because of me or mom. That's not fair."
It was on the tip of Neal's tongue to say that life wasn't fair, but he held back. "Henry, get in the car. I'm going to drive you back over to the station before David sends out a search party. It's about to rain."
"Not until…"
He wasn't expecting an ultimatum from his son. "Henry, I have to ask why this is so important to you. Why do you want to live with your mom and Killian? You have clearly shown that you hate it when I include Tamara in on things. You ignore her or you roll your eyes. According to your mother, you would prefer she not be around. Yet with your mother and Killian Jones, you're all over that. Why? Why should I…"
"Dad, Killian isn't like Tamara. She doesn't even like me." Henry blurted that out without really thinking, cringing the moment the words hit his ears. "Tamara sees me as a bother, a problem, just part of your baggage."
"And Killian doesn't?" Neal said, shaking his head in disbelief as the air shifted and the scent of impending rain further assailed his nose. "Guys sometimes act that way to get a woman to…"
"Dad, do you even care that Tamara said those things in front of me? Do you? Because she did. I heard her. And my wanting to live with Mom and Killian has nothing to do with that. We're a family. A real family. And I want that with you too, but not if it means breaking everyone apart."
"Henry, Killian's not your father. I am. And I want you protected. I want you healthy and happy. I honestly think it is best if we let your grandfather handle things at that school. What Killian has done is against the rules. What kind of school master would he be if he allowed it to continue?" He was grasping at straws.
"Fine," Henry said, hiking his bag higher on his shoulder. "I thought that…I thought that you would understand. But you don't. That's not going to stop me." Without waiting, Henry turned almost 180 degrees and darted from the parking lot in the direction of the school.
"Damn it," Neal cursed, slumping into his car and throwing it into gear after barely cranking it. He needed to catch his kid.