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He found David in the barn, grooming one of their two horses. After so long in their cramped loft in town, the Charmings had certainly made the most of owning a farm on several acres of land at the edge of Storybrooke.
“I told you,” David said.
Killian raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“That you’d get bored with the girl talk eventually.”
“I’ll have you know,” Killian said, picking up a second grooming brush and holding his hand out for the horse in the adjacent stall to sniff, “that when I left, the ladies were discussing the best kind of magical bolt for taking down a foe at twenty paces.”
“Ah.”
Satisfied that Snow’s horse, Bluebird, recognized him, he gently rested the flat of his hook on the horse’s back and began to brush her flank. “Admittedly, there was also a protracted discussion of menstruation.”
“Uh huh, like I said.”
“So as I chased Neal and Robyn around the playroom, I overheard more about Zelena’s monthly cycle than I ever wanted to know.” Bluebird huffed, and David made a disgusted face.
“What’s Henry up to this afternoon?” David asked, seemingly eager to change the subject.
“He’s at Violet’s.”
“Remind them they’re welcome to come out here anytime they want to ride,” David offered.
Killian smiled, remembering Camelot, and Violet’s promise to get Henry’s heart racing. “I’ll be sure to pass that along.”
They continued working on the horses in companionable silence for some time.
“Hey Dave, when you were working as a sheriff’s deputy, did you ever have to respond to a domestic disturbance call about Jack and Jill Smith?”
“Oh yeah, a few times.”
“Are they brother and sister, or …” Killian waved his hook around. “You know.”
David laughed. “I was always afraid it was both, so I didn’t ask.”
“Yeah, exactly.”
“There’s a few things I miss about my old job, but that is definitely not one of them.” He walked over and scooped fresh oats out of a barrel, carrying it over to feed both horses. “Are you still liking it?”
Killian shrugged. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be entirely at peace with being law enforcement after so many years of flouting the law–”
“My kingdom’s law,” David pointed out, eyebrow cocked.
“But I get to spend the day working with my wife, and after being pulled apart so many times by death or portals or curses, I don’t take even a second of that time for granted.”
“You may get tired of spending so much time together eventually.”
Killian shook his head. “Perhaps, but just now I can’t imagine it.” He chuckled. “Besides, as Storybrooke’s police force, we’ve been asked to help chaperone Henry’s… what is it called? It’s like a school ball?”
“Prom,” David supplied as the two of them brought fresh water for the horses’ troughs.
“That’s it, prom.”
“I bet Henry was thrilled with that news.”
“I’m surprised you couldn’t hear his put-upon groan from way out here at the farm.” Both men laughed. The horses now taken care of, they left the barn and strolled outside, down toward the area David had planted a vegetable garden in the spring.
“He has to do that, he’s a teenager. Deep down, he loves you. And looks up to you as a father.”
Killian felt his heart clench at that statement. “Baelfire is his father; I’ve no desire to try to replace him.”
“I know, but Henry hardly knew his biological father. Which, given what I now know about exactly what he did to Emma, I have mixed feelings about.” David sighed. “Sometimes I wish he were alive so I could punch him in the face.”
“I’ve had those same thoughts, although Emma’s perfectly capable of doing her own punching. And she forgave him.” He hooked his thumb in his belt. “And honestly, the whole sad tale makes me wonder how much control Emma or Bae had over their fates. She was destined to be the Savior, and to come here and break the curse. Perhaps things had to turn out exactly as they did, not only to bring Henry to Regina, but also to forge Emma into the hero she became.”
“Have we somehow turned this into a discussion about free will?” David asked, smirking.
“Oh, by the way, I overheard something else during the ‘girl talk’ inside,” Killian said. “That you and Snow are trying for another baby?”
David flushed, glancing away. “Snow’s telling people that?”
“Aye. Congratulations in advance, Dad.” Killian grinned from ear to ear.
“We’ll see. We thought another child would be nice, so that Neal could have a brother or sister near his own age. And we’d like to have another baby ourselves, of course. Snow and I always thought, when she was pregnant with Emma…” He trailed off, his expression tinged with sadness. “We always thought we’d have a big family.”
“And so you shall,” Killian said. “Besides, he’s also got Robyn and Gideon to grow up with.”
“And maybe a niece or nephew?” David said, elbowing Killian in the ribs.
“Mate, are you encouraging me to impregnate your daughter?” His hand came up to scratch behind his ear, and he could feel his cheeks flaming.
“I wish you wouldn’t word it that way, but Snow and I wouldn’t be averse to another grandchild.”
Killian sighed. “Honestly, we haven’t made a decision about that. Emma’s got understandably mixed feelings about having another baby. And I have my own doubts about my prospects as a father.”
“What are you talking about? You’re fantastic with Henry.”
“Henry was already an amazing lad before I was around to be a corrupting influence. Starting from scratch provides so many more opportunities for me to ruin a child’s life,” Killian said. He hadn’t necessarily planned on bearing his soul like this to his father-in-law, but it felt good to do so nonetheless.
“You wouldn’t, though. You’ll be a great father, if the two of you decide that’s what you want.”
Killian looked down at his feet, embarrassed by David’s blatant praise. “Thanks.” Reaching for something to lighten the mood, he added, “I promise, if Emma and I decide to try and make a baby, you’ll be the first to know. We can have an indepth discussion of women’s monthly cycles.”
“Shut up.”
“Yes, Dad.”
~*~
Several months went by before the topic came up again. Killian and Snow were collaborating on a Fourth of July trifle to bring to a picnic that Regina was hosting, and the Swan-Jones kitchen was covered in baking supplies and too many containers of freshly washed strawberries and blueberries.
Snow had just finished putting cake pans in the oven, after which she dropped into one of the kitchen chairs, huffing out a breath.
“Are you feeling okay? Can I get you anything, love?”
“Maybe some ice water? And I’m fine, just tired. I swear, this seems more difficult every time I do it.” She and David had told close family that she was pregnant a few days ago, but it was still too early to make a wider announcement. “Probably because I’m getting old.”
“Perish the thought. You are glowing with youth and vitality.”
Snow laughed. “Pretty sure that’s sweat. But thanks.” She took the glass from his hand, drinking several gulps. “And thanks for the water.”
Killian went back to his task of slicing strawberries. “I wonder how Neal will enjoy having a little brother or sister.”
“Oh, he’ll probably be jealous at first, most only children are,” she said, then immediately flinched. “Not that Neal is an only child, of course, but he’s been raised as an only child, in a way–”
“I understood what you meant; no need to explain.”
She sighed. “I’ll never not feel guilty that Emma had to grow up without us.”
“I know, just as she will never completely purge her guilt over missing the first years of Henry’s life, even though giving him up was clearly the braver choice.” He popped a slice of strawberry in his mouth. “This family has enough guilt to last for several generations.”
“Here’s to hoping the next generation doesn’t have to face any of those hardships,” she said, raising her water glass to him.
“Aye.”
“Speaking of, Emma told me the two of you are discussing perhaps having children of your own?” She grinned widely, her eyes sparkling, and it reminded him of a warm hug in a snowstorm; of this woman gripping her binder full of wedding ideas in her arms, overflowing with enthusiasm for his future with Emma.
“Discussing being the operative word,” he said.
“Oh, but wouldn’t it be amazing if we had children the same age?”
Killian set his knife down. “Shall I haul Emma upstairs now, then?”
Snow slapped his arm. “Shut up.”
“You seemed to be in an awfully big hurry for us to make this happen.”
“Well, none of us are getting any younger.”
He snorted. “Maybe Regina could cast a dark curse that would make us get younger.”
“That’s a great idea,” she said, her shoulders shaking with laughter.
“Even after close to a year, I don’t think either Emma or I can quite get our heads around the idea that things have settled down in Storybrooke. It’s been so peaceful, but we’re still sort of waiting for the other shoe to drop,” Killian admitted.
“You can’t live your lives like that, though. You’ve got to take things as they come, day by day. Enjoy these moments.”
“I am.” He popped another strawberry in his mouth.
“And stop eating all the fruit.”
“I’m not.”
~*~
Emma collapsed on her parents’ sofa, exhausted.
“Do you think Neal will stay in bed this time?” Killian asked, just as exhausted.
“I give it an even fifty-fifty chance,” she said. “He’s excited about the new baby.”
Killian glanced at the clock on the wall. “How long do you think she’ll be in labor?”
“What do I look like, an obstetrician?” Emma closed her eyes, leaning against Killian’s shoulder. “It’ll take however long it takes.” She yawned loudly. “Nice that there are no bad guys threatening the product of true love this time, although I’m glad Regina’s at the hospital just in case.”
“Well, the Charmings have made too many ‘products of true love’ now,” Killian said. “Any villain will be paralyzed by the decision of which child to steal.”
Emma laughed, imagining an indecisive villain unable to pick a child to use for their dark purposes. “Yeah, and then you and I could widen the pool even further.” Killian became very silent at that statement, and Emma picked up her head quickly. “That is, if we decide… you know.”
He smiled tightly. “Your mother is disappointed you aren’t pregnant already.”
Rolling her eyes, Emma took his hand. “I know. Are you? Disappointed?”
“Of course not, love. You know that I’m happy with whatever you decide.”
“You can’t keep saying that, you know.” She leaned over and gently bumped their noses together. “You have to have an opinion of your own on something that’s such a big deal. Like, imagine if for some reason it was all up to you. Oh, I know!” She let go of his hand and sat up straighter, tucking one of her feet up under her. “What if you were the one who was going to carry and give birth to the baby? Would you want one?”
He made a face like he’d tasted something bad. “I don’t think so.”
Emma’s eyes rolled back again. “I don’t mean if you were some kind of medical anomaly. I just mean if it was normal for you to be the one to do it. And it was painless. Would you want a baby then?”
Killian sighed. “If you wanted to–”
“Nope, my decision doesn’t enter into it. Just for this hypothetical situation. It’s all on you. What would you do, Killian Jones?”
Her cell phone vibrated, interrupting whatever he was going to say. Emma groaned and picked it up, answering quickly when she saw the caller ID. “Dad? Is there news?”
“You’ve got a sister, Emma.”
~*~
“New babies smell amazing,” Emma said, holding her sister’s head close to her nose as she sat on the room’s lone chair. Killian hovered behind her.
Snow smiled, closing her eyes. “Mm hmm,” she said. David had stepped out to make some more phone calls. “You’ve fallen for my evil plot to seduce you into having one of your own.”
“I’m sure changing her diapers will be an effective antidote.”
Snow snored softly, having somehow drifted off to sleep in the span of a few seconds, and Emma looked up at Killian. “Do you want to hold her?”
His eyes widened. “No, that’s quite all right, I don’t need to.”
Emma stood up, supporting the baby in the crook of her arm. “Come on, Captain, no need to be afraid of a tiny baby. Sit.”
Killian did as he was directed, taking the chair and then holding his arms out to accept the baby. The baby looked up into his face, appearing the study him carefully. Killian tucked her into his left arm, supporting her head with his right hand. “She’s so small,” he said.
“Yeah, that’s how that works; they come out small and then grow up,” Emma teased.
Killian ignored her jibe. “I figured she’d be sleeping.”
“They’re alert for the first few hours after they’re born; remember with Gideon?”
He nodded absently, his eyes locked with his new sister-in-law’s.
Emma grinned at him. “You want one, don’t you?”
“Aye,” he said quickly, then looked up at her in a panic. “But only–”
“I got you!” Emma crowed softly, trying not to awaken her mother and pointing her finger at him. “I got you to admit you want a baby.”
“Swan, that’s not fair, I’m unduly influenced by this little wonder,” he said, leaning over and smelling the top of her head, “who does smell amazing; you have the right of it.”
“That’s okay; I kind of want one too,” Emma whispered.
Killian’s eyes came up and met hers. “Really?”
“Really.” She perched on the arm of the hospital chair and kissed the top of her husband’s head. “Let’s make a baby.”
“Just wait until you get home, please,” came Snow’s voice from the bed.
Emma giggled. “Yes, mom.”
“Yes, mum,” Killian said.