Chapter Text
Going out was the last thing Emma wanted to do tonight. She had a long week dealing with a tough case at work, the weather reports were calling for snow, and she had a headache- not to mention the fact that she didn’t feel like being hit on by some drunk low life.
“Those are all reasons for you to go out then,” Ruby insisted when Emma relayed all of this to her over the phone. “It’s Friday night. You need to come let loose with your friends and forget about whatever else is on your mind. And you know I’ll gladly fight off anyone who bothers you.” It took similar texts from Elsa, Graham, David, and Mary Margaret for her to finally give in and join them. Which is how she found herself sitting at the bar at one of their favorite burger and beer places downtown.
She was drinking one of her favorite beers, with Graham on her left side flirting with the guy behind the bar, and a stranger on her right who had been talking her ear off about some upcoming movie since he sat down an hour ago. Emma wasn’t all that interested- in both him or whatever this movie is- but she listened anyway. She didn’t have the energy to join the rest of her friends at the dart boards, and at least this guy wasn’t trying to flirt. So when he suggested she add him on Facebook before he left, she’d had enough to drink that she saw little reason to object.
It wasn’t until he was gone when she opened the Facebook app on her phone and realized she wasn’t one hundred percent sure of his name. He’d introduced himself when he first took the seat beside her, but that had been several beers ago, not to mention the loud music in the bar making some of his words hard to hear.
It had been something different that she’d never heard before. Killiam James, maybe? she thought as she typed it into the search bar.
“I should’ve known.” Ruby appeared behind her, holding a glass of whatever she’d picked for her poison tonight. “Don’t tell me you came out just to sit on your phone by yourself.”
“I’m not by myself. Graham’s he-” She turned and saw that the man in question had apparently slipped off with the bartender without her noticing.”Huh. Or maybe not.”
Ruby sighed. “Come on, Emma. You know you wanna watch Mary Margaret kick David’s ass at darts.”
That was a statement she couldn’t argue with. “Hang on. Let me do this first.” But Ruby instead grabbed her by the arm and dragged her toward the dart boards, causing Emma to hit “add friend” for the first option in her search results without paying much attention to the name or profile picture.
The guy from the bar and the friend request had been forgotten about by the next morning when she woke up with a pounding headache and wondered exactly when she’d started getting old.
The events of that Friday night didn’t cross her mind again until the next weekend. She’d gone to see Captain Marvel with David and Mary Margaret, who were always willing to join her to watch any superhero movie despite both of them losing track of the plot at least half an hour in. It wasn’t the same as getting to experience it with someone as invested as she was, but years of going to the movies by herself when she was younger made Emma grateful for their company regardless.
They arrived at the theater early, battling the lines at the ticket booth and again at the concessions stand for overpriced popcorn and candy. The theater was already filling up after they’d gotten snacks. Emma stepped on quite a few feet to get to the only empty three seats together. Once they were settled, she pulled out her phone and opened the front camera. “Smile, guys!” Mary Margaret got the memo, but David looked like a deer in headlights in their selfie. This was definitely getting posted.
She made a few adjustments to the lighting before posting the photo on Facebook and Instagram. It’s Captain Marvel time!
The lights in the theater dimmed as the first movie trailer began to play on the screen. Emma silenced her phone and dropped it into her purse before grabbing a fistful of popcorn and settling into her seat.
It was over two hours later when the movie had ended and the three of them had arrived back at David and Mary Margaret’s house before she thought to check her phone again. There was a new text from Elsa about the shirt she’d borrowed last week and a handful of social media notifications. She opened Facebook first to see the response to her pre-movie selfie. It was when she started scrolling through the list of various reactions that an unfamiliar name caught her eye. Of course since she’d tagged David and Mary Margaret in the photo, several people who’d liked it weren’t Facebook friends of hers or people she knew. But this one stood out- it belonged to a person she’d never heard of before, and one who was apparently on her friends list.
Killian Jones. She frowned and clicked the link to open his profile page. They had no mutual friends, but sure enough, they were friends with each other. The brief amount of information listed under his personal details told her he lived in London and worked for a company named Ship Shape.
Emma quickly began to question just how she knew this Killian Jones. They hadn’t gone to college together; his profile listed him as an alum of a university in London she’d never heard of. He wasn’t in her line of work, so that wasn’t a possibility.
What if he had been a previous one night stand? No, that definitely wasn’t the case. She rarely got men’s names when those happened, let alone befriended them on social media.
And there was no way she would have forgotten a face like his. His current profile picture was taken from a distance on a beach somewhere, which made his features a bit harder to notice. The handful of previous ones were closer shots though. There were a few that looked like they were taken at some kind of professional event and a selfie with a dog she presumed was his. He was gorgeous, she realized as she quickly flipped through them. Piercing blue eyes, a head of dark hair that successfully toed the line between messy and polished with a five o’clock shadow to match. Yeah, she definitely would have remembered him.
Emma scrolled through a few more photos before she started to feel like she was crossing some sort of line. She had zero ideas on who this Killian Jones even was, and yet there she sat combing through the details of his Facebook profile as if they were close friends.
Contacting him seemed like the most logical thing to do. She opened Messenger, still annoyed that the feature wasn’t included with the regular Facebook app anymore, and typed out a brief message. Hey. Sorry if this seems weird, but I was wondering how you and I knew each other?
Her phone chimed with a response only a few minutes later. Not weird, love. Although I was wondering the same thing considering you’re the one who added me.
She stared at her phone screen and read the message again. There had to be some kind of mix up. Her friends list was on the small side, mostly former classmates and coworkers, and the people she regularly interacted with now. What reason would she have for sending a friend request to Killian Jones all the way in London-
And then it hit her. “Killiam James,” she groaned, remembering the guy from the bar the weekend before. If that was even his name. Emma blamed the combination of beer and loud music for the mix up, which explained why she’d added this guy with such a similar name.
What was she even supposed to say to Killian Jones now? The truth was ridiculous, and she couldn’t think of a lie that sounded even moderately believable.
Honesty won out in the end. “What does it matter? He’s never gonna meet me anyway,” she muttered as she started to reply. So, funny story. I thought I was sending a friend request to a guy with a name that’s really similar to yours and I just now realized my mistake. I’m sorry again because I know how weird this all probably sounds to you.
She hadn’t expected another reply. He’d probably delete her from his friends list after learning the reason behind the mishap and forget all about their brief interaction. What she got instead was a huge surprise. That’s quite alright. I suppose it could have happened to anyone. But, while we’re here, can I ask how the movie was?
Movie? Oh, right. She’d gone to see Captain Marvel tonight. His liking her photo was what started all of this. I liked it a lot. Keep in mind I haven’t read the comics, so I don’t know how accurate anything was. But it’s a great addition to the MCU if you ask me. And the cat was awesome.
I’m glad to hear that. I don’t know much about the comics myself, I just like the films as well. I’ll have to keep my eye out for the cat you speak of when I see it for myself.
This conversation was already a positive changed compared to the ones she usually had about Marvel movies. Most people, men especially, would make fun of her or call her a “fake fan” when she admitted she wasn’t familiar with the comics and didn’t really have plans to change that. Not only was Killian Jones not making fun of her preferences, he actually seemed to share them.
Emma soon found herself discussing everything from Endgame theories to the newest Spider-Man: Far From Home trailer with him. It wasn’t until her eyes grew heavy and she started yawning that she realized it was after midnight. Had this guy really stayed up until five in the morning to talk superheroes with her? Crap. I just realized what time it is. I’m really sorry if I kept you up. You’re probably exhausted.
No worries, Swan- can I call you that? As coincidence would have it, I’m a bit of an insomniac. I likely would still be awake now regardless. Plus, I work for my brother, so he can’t fire me for sleeping on the job unless he wants to lose his kids’ favorite babysitter.
Swan is fine- after all, it is my name. Although I still feel like you may need to apologize to your brother on my behalf.
Truthfully, she didn’t expect to hear from Killian again. Sure, they’d had a long conversation about a shared interest of theirs, but that didn’t mean he had any desire to continue talking to a stranger in the middle of the night. Or at any other time, for that matter.
Which is why Emma was caught off guard when she received another Facebook message from him a few days later. Hello, Swan. I know it’s the middle of the day where you are so you’re probably working, but I just saw Captain Marvel with a friend of mine and I needed someone to discuss the end credits scene with since he’s not nearly invested in this.
Their conversation soon left movies entirely and shifted to their everyday lives. Within the next hour, she learned that he was thirty-one, worked as a marketing executive for the shipping company owned by his brother, was the proud uncle of a nephew and two nieces, and spent most of his free time hiking or reading whatever fantasy novel was next on his to read list. Emma was more hesitant when it came to sharing specifics about herself for several reasons: talking about herself wasn’t exactly something she enjoyed, she barely knew this guy, plus, what if he really wasn’t the person he claimed to be?
If there’s one of us that ought to be suspicious, it’s him , she thought. You added him first; you could be the one Catfishing for all he knows.
Their once sporadic conversations soon became a nightly occurrence, switching from Facebook Messenger to texts once they felt comfortable with sharing numbers. (The short amount of time this took didn’t go unnoticed to Emma. She refused to let herself think too much about it.) Over time, it soon became easier to open up to him about a number of different things. Some days it was her favorite color or flavor of ice cream, others it was conspiracy theories she believed that dealt with people like Marilyn Monroe and Kurt Cobain. Emma rarely brought up her upbringing or personal life, and he never asked.
On nights when Killian’s insomnia was particularly brutal, they watched Netflix together, one of the few pastimes they could share considering the distance between them. They usually chose comedies, preferring shows like The Good Place and Parks and Rec so they wouldn’t miss much of the story if they got caught up in whatever conversation they were having at the same time.
The first phone call happened by accident when they’d been talking about three months. Emma had just got in from work and was debating between Chinese and pizza for dinner when her phone began to vibrate. She froze at seeing Killian’s name on the screen. Why was he calling her? They had never talked outside of Facebook and texts. Phone calls had never even come up once in their conversations.
“H-hello?” she answered after a moment. “Killian?”
“Oi, Jones, is this your girlfriend?” Not Killian then, although another man with an accent who sounded far from sober. She heard some sort of commotion in the background, followed by, “Give me back my bloody phone!”
“Um, hello, Swan.” His voice sounded exactly as she’d imagined. (Not that she’d spent that much time thinking on the subject. Not at all.) The accent was there, of course, but his voice was softer and he sounded considerably more under control than whoever had greeted her. “How’re you doing?”
“I’m fine. Killian, don’t take this the wrong way, but why are you calling me? Where are you?”
“Well, you see, a few of us brought Liam to the pub tonight for his birthday, but I realized I’d forgotten to tell you about it earlier. I know you wanted to start Brooklyn 99 tonight since we finished New Girl. Anyway, I was in the middle of typing out a message to you explaining all of this when Will took my phone and called before I could stop him.” He sighed. Emma had a feeling Will would get an earful as soon as this conversation was over; she heard a lot about him from Killian, mostly complaints. “I’m terribly sorry, love. I’m sure this must be awkward for you.”
“It’s fine, Killian. I appreciate you for telling me, but I know you probably have better things to do on a Friday night than watch Netflix with a stranger in Boston.” Although that was the gist of their relationship from an outside perspective, Emma’s heart sank at her own words. She thought more for this virtual stranger than she did most of the people she saw in person on a regular basis.
“Don’t talk like that, Swan. Besides, it would’ve been bad form to leave you hanging without an explanation.”
She should have known he would be a stickler for manners, even for something as trivial as a regular Netflix binge. “Thanks, Killian. Seriously though, go enjoy your night out. Sing ‘happy birthday’ obnoxiously loud to your brother and maybe don’t let anyone else take your phone. We’ll catch up on Netflix later, alright?”
“Alright, love. Goodnight.”
The next time Killian called, it was intentional. Neither of them thought much of it.
The calls (via WhatsApp to keep from spending a fortune) soon became a semi-regular part of their “routine.” They didn’t happen as often as the texts, however, since it was harder to both talk and vaguely pay attention to whatever show they were watching at any given moment. Talking on the phone often made it easy to forget the difference in time zone and the ocean between them, even when Killian said something particularly British, like “tosser” or “knackered.”
She and Killian had their first shared experience with FaceTime the night before the surprise party she and Mary Margaret have planned for David. Emma had been asked to make cupcakes, something she now regretted agreeing to as she stood in her kitchen dumbfounded by the assortment of ingredients strewn out across the counter.
As if on cue, her phone vibrated.
Killian: How are the cupcakes coming along?
Emma: They’re not.
Do I really have to mix the wet and dry ingredients separately? They all go in the same bowl in the end. And how much batter do I put in the cupcake liners without them blowing up like mushroom tops? I don’t get why I had to pick a recipe that calls for baking soda AND powder too.
Basically, I need to be able to snap my fingers and have a professional chef in my kitchen to take care of this.
Killian: I’m no professional, but if you want to FaceTime, I could possibly help walk you through it.
Of course he could. She’d quickly learned that Killian Jones was one of those people who was unfairly good at most if not all things.
Emma opened the camera app on her phone to get a look at her current appearance. An old Rolling Stones t-shirt that probably should have been thrown out years ago, her-square rimmed glasses, hair thrown up on the top of her head in a messy knot, and no makeup, not to mention the zit on her chin that she hadn’t gotten the chance to get rid of yet. It would have to do. They were friends, and he already knew what she looked like thanks to social media. And she didn’t have time or energy to freshen up before she got the stupid cupcakes taken care of.
“Here goes nothing,” she muttered.
Her phone screen was taken up by Killian’s smiling face seconds later. “Hello, Swan.”
“Uh, hi.” Somehow he was even better looking in real time. It wasn’t fair. “You sure you’re up for this?”
“Come now, love. How hard can it be?”
“Consider who you’re dealing with, Killian. I almost cooked an oven mitt last week.” She didn’t add that it had happened due to their intense conversation on nineties one hit wonders and she’d been so distracted she hadn’t paid attention to where she’d placed the mitt after taking pizza out of her oven.
He barked out a laugh. “Something tells me chocolate cupcakes will smell much better. Do you have the recipe up?”
“Yeah. I’m sending it to you.”
Killian, being the good sport that he was, spent the better part of the next two hours going through the recipe step by step with her. Which was much easier said than done.
“You mean to tell me that not only do I have to mix the wet and dry ingredients separately, but I can only mix half of each together at a time?”
“Aye, that’s what the woman recommends.”
Emma had long since forgotten the name of the woman who’d posted the recipe online, but she had quickly become her worst enemy. “I should’ve just told Mary Margaret to make the damn cupcakes herself.”
“I highly doubt she could’ve gotten away with making cupcakes for her husband’s surprise party in their own house,” Killian noted.
How was it that he seemed to know her own family better than she did. “Yeah, well, then I should have bought cupcakes from the store and brought them to the party on one of my plates.” It would have at least saved the trouble of having a kitchen covered in flour, butter, and the other dozen or so ingredients she’d added to the mix.
She had just began pouring batter into one of the slots in her cupcake tin when Killian spoke up. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Swan.”
“Killian, I may have the cooking skills of a dustpan, but I do know that cupcakes have to be baked.”
“Right you are, but what about liners?”
“Come again?”
“You know, the paper things? You’re going to have an awfully difficult time without them.”
Of course. “Shit!” Hurling the mixing bowl at the wall now seemed like a great idea. “I can’t believe I didn’t think about that.”
“Hmm.” She heard the sound of computer keys typing as Killian looked something up. “Do you have parchment paper? Several sites list it as a possible substitute.”
“Wouldn’t that look kind of tacky though?”
“You don’t exactly have a lot of options, love, unless you’re willing to make a trip to the store.”
Emma glanced at the clock above her oven. It was past ten. A handful of stores would be open, but she didn’t have the energy or motivation to change into decent clothes to leave the apartment. “Parchment paper’s fine, I guess. What does it say I’m supposed to do?”
He quickly walked her through the process, which was much simpler than she presumed. After cutting the parchment paper into squares and folding them around a glass that was the same size as the slots in the cupcake pan, the problem was solved. They rewatched one of their favorite episodes of The Good Place while the cupcakes baked. She was so caught up in the show that she wouldn’t have remembered to turn off the oven if Killian hadn’t reminded her.
“So far, so good,” she told him once the pans had been taken out of the oven and placed on her counter. “They smell incredible.”
“Don’t rub it in,” Killian groaned. “The only form of chocolate I have in my flat is unsweetened cocoa powder.”
“Well, that’s just depressing.”
The icing process, while tedious, went over much more smoothly than the baking had.
“Swan, you’ve got chocolate icing all over your cheek now.”
“Maybe so, but I’ve got two dozen nice looking cupcakes. Isn’t that all that matters?”
“I suppose,” he agreed. “Although you’re just giving me something else to make fun of you for.”
He laughed when she stuck her tongue out at him.
She’d gone this far without sampling anything, too concentrated on not botching the cupcakes. But the sound of her stomach growling reminded Emma she’d never eaten dinner. “You think I can justify having a cupcake now if I don’t eat one at the party tomorrow?”
“After all the work you’ve put in, I believe you could justify two.”
“You, Jones, are a bad influence,” she said, taking the nearest cupcake and pulling off the parchment sheet liner.
“A bad influence who reminded you of the importance of cupcake liners.”
“Ugh. I hate it when you’re right.” Emma took a hearty bite of the cupcake and couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped her lips. “Ohmgod.”
Killian was quiet for a moment. Then, “I presume it’s good?”
“It’s not good, it’s fantastic. I never thought I’d say that about something I made.” Another bite elicited the same reaction, her eyes closing as she savored the rich chocolate taste. This caused her to miss Killian blush as his eyes shifted away from the screen.
“Erm, well, I’m very glad to hear that.”
The cupcakes, thankfully, are a hit. Several people at David’s party ask Emma for the recipe, a few eve complimenting the unique choice of liners. Her own brother was skeptical that she’d made them herself.
“I did!” she insisted. “I mean, Killian provided moral support via FaceTime, but all the manual labor was my accomplishment.” Her family and friends have known about her unconventional friendship with Killian for awhile now. Most of them went along with the idea, although a few were skeptical that her virtual friend was really the person he claimed to be.
“You and this guy have gotten pretty close, haven’t you?” David was one of those skeptical people.
She shrugged. “Kind of. I guess we’re as close as friends can get when they’re on opposite sides of the pond and have never met in person.”
“And you’re sure he’s not, what’s the word, fishing with you?”
“The term is catfishing , David. And the answer is no, considering we FaceTimed during the cupcake ordeal and his face matches the one in all of his pictures.”
“If you say so. I just don’t want you to risk getting hurt.” He almost always went into Protective Big Brother mode whenever Emma referenced a guy in any capacity, and this was no exception.
“I appreciate that you care about me, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about considering the circumstances. The chances of the two of us meeting are basically nonexistent.”
A few days later, they were on their third episode of Schitt’s Creek of the night and discussing each other’s uneventful work days when he brought it up. “So, uh, Liam has been talking about sending me away for work sometime soon.”
“That’s cool. Does he want you to go back to the Dublin office again?” Emma remembered that he’d taken a short trip to Ireland for business not long after they’d became friends.
“Actually, no.” He paused. “He’s made a few comments about Boston this time.”
Any interest she had in the episode they’d been watching was long gone. “Oh really?”
“Yeah. Sometime next month, if nothing changes.”
Her next words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. “I know a semi decent tour guide who lives in that neck of the woods if you have some free time while you’re here. And, y’know, if you’d be up for that.”
“I think that could be arranged.” She couldn’t see Killian, but somehow she knew he was smiling.
Emma didn’t start freaking out until the day before his flight. She was at Elsa’s apartment with Mary Margaret and Ruby, drinking wine and eating Elsa and Anna’s homemade cookies at the kitchen table. She was on her third- okay, maybe it was her fourth- snickerdoodle, only half participating in the conversation when she glanced up and saw the three of them staring at her.
“Do I have something on my face?”
Mary Margaret gave her a knowing look. “Have you been listening to anything we’ve said?”
“Yeah, of course I have.”
“Emma, I just said that Granny was having surgery next month, and your response was, ‘that’s cool,’” Ruby deadpanned.
Her face flushed red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. Just have a lot on my mind I guess.”
“Is something goin- oh!” Elsa exclaimed. “Aren’t you finally meeting that friend of yours from London tomorrow?”
“Yeah. His plane is supposed to come in at two, then I’m meeting him for dinner and a little sightseeing before his meetings start the next day.”
“That’s really all you’ve got planned for him?” Ruby waggled her eyebrows over the rim of her wine glass.
Emma rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Ruby. He’s just my friend.”
“Your very attractive male friend, who you talk either to or about nonstop,” Mary Margaret added.
She shot her an annoyed glance. “I thought family was supposed to be on my side.”
“I am on your side! I want you to be happy, and I’m just saying maybe you should be open to the possibility that Killian could have something to do with that.”
Leave it to her sister-in-law to bring Emma’s love life (or lack thereof) into the conversation. ““Don’t get any ideas, Mary Margaret. I love that you’re an eternal optimist, but everything else aside, he lives over three thousand miles away. I never thought we would actually meet.”
“People do long distance all the time,” Elsa chimed in. “Anna and Kristoff did for several months when he was away doing research about climate change in the North Pole. It wasn’t easy, but they got through it and are happier than ever now.”
She wanted to remind Elsa that her sister and her fiance had been together for over two years before this, but disregarded the thought. “I know you all mean well- even though it seems like Ruby just wants me to get laid- but can we change the subject? Killian is my friend. That’s all there is to it.”
Even as she said the words, Emma wondered for the first time whether that was actually true.
Her intention had been to sleep in the next morning since she’d gone ahead and taken the day off. But, much to her dismay, she was wide awake at seven. By ten she’d gone for a run, showered, eaten breakfast, and cleaned most of her apartment. It was tempting to blame the random burst of energy on wanting to be productive while she had the time to spend at home, but that wasn’t it.
She was excited to see Killian. And the closer that came to happening, it terrified her too.
For starters, what if they didn’t mesh as well in person as they did online or over the phone? It sounded silly just to think about, but maybe actually being in each other’s space for the first time would somehow change how their friendship worked.
The conversation she’d had with her friends the day before wasn’t helping matters either. What they’d said shouldn’t have been getting to her like it was. Every argument she’d made against their insinuations about her and Killian had been true.
Then why have you barely paid attention to other guys since the two of you started getting close? The thought came to her once she’d started walking laps around the apartment just to keep her busy. Dating for her had been a rare occurrence since Neal almost ten years earlier. Walsh was the one exception, and things with him hadn’t gone much better. One nighters happened now and then when she wanted to scratch an itch without having strings attached. But even one of those hadn’t happened in months.
She didn’t even know whether or not Killian had been seeing anyone. Her first assumption was no. He’d never once mentioned dating, and, regardless, he’d spent the majority of his nights over the past handful of months talking to her. His unconventional friendship with her on top of his job and his family didn’t give her the impression he had a lot of time for dating.
Emma glanced at the clock on her phone. It was just after twelve. “Dammit.” Even with traffic, it would be at least another hour and forty-five minutes before she needed to leave unless she just wanted to drive in circles around the airport.
“Screw it,” she said at one-thirty after she’d won her fourth game of solitaire. TSA might give her hell about parking if she had to wait a bit for Killian, but she couldn’t sit around her apartment much longer without losing her mind.
There was a knock on her door just as she was pulling on her jacket and boots. She went to the door and found her brother standing with his arms crossed over his chest. “Hey, David.”
“Oh, good. I was hoping I’d catch you in time.”
“In time for what?” she asked. “I’m about to leave for the airport.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m coming with you.”
He’d known she was going to meet Killian today for over a week and had yet to mention this to her. “What? Why?”
“I don’t want you going alone, Emma. It’s not safe; you’ve never met this guy.”
She rolled her eyes. “Seriously? I could understand if I’d met a guy on a dating site or something, but I’ve known Killian for months now, David. I’m pretty confident that I’m not picking up a serial killer.”
The frown on his face hadn’t budged. “Either way, I’d still like to meet him before I leave you alone with him. Gotta let him know what he’s dealing with if he hurts you.”
Emma checked the time on her phone again. “Ugh. Let’s go,” she groaned. “You’re not gonna let this go, and I don’t have time to argue with you about it.”
Any nerves she’d felt before had briefly been alleviated by the desire to strangle David. The drive to the airport was spent with her hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel so she wouldn’t wrap them around his neck instead.
“Are you gonna insist on spending the day with us too?” she asked as she pulled into the airport’s parking lot and looked for the garage for short term parking.
He shrugged. “Not sure yet. Ask me again once I’ve met him and had a chance to evaluate.”
“You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“I’m your older brother. That’s my job,” he insisted.
Emma parked in the short term garage connected to the airport. There was no point in trying to wait at the curb since she knew they’d be asked to move. She and Killian had decided to meet at the landside area, so she sat and waited for a text that he’d arrived and tried to ignore David tapping his fingers against the passenger door.
Her phone vibrated a few minutes later. Hello, Swan. Just wanted to let you know I’m waiting for my luggage and then I should be good to go.
Emma swallowed hard as she got out of the car on shaking legs. This was it.
She was too anxious to object when David followed her out of the garage and into the airport; she’d known better than to expect him to wait in the car for them.
When they’d entered the waiting area, Emma quickly scanned the room for a familiar face, coming up short. This was the place where they’d agreed to meet, wasn’t it? He’d sent her the text just minutes ago confirming their plans. What were the chances the nerves had gone to her head and made her mix something up?
She was so lost in thought she failed to hear the footsteps coming up behind her. “Someone in particular you’re looking for, love?”
They’d FaceTimed on several occasions and shared more ridiculous Snapchats than necessary. Emma knew what to expect. And yet, somehow, she’d been all wrong. His eyes were so much brighter and vibrant in person, there was no way to accurately capture that on camera. There was a tinge of red to his hair and scruff she’d never noticed. She liked it. A lot.
“Hello, Swan.” Shit. His already perfect smile was somehow better in person too. It wasn’t fair.
“Killian. Hi.” How could she have talked to him for hours on end over the past few months and be at a loss for words now?
They stood in silence for a moment, each trying to take the other in. Emma wasn’t sure how she was supposed to greet him. Was their friendship advanced enough to permit a casual hug? Or should she stick to a handshake?
David solved that problem for her, stepping between the two of them and extending his hand to Killian. Emma had all but forgotten that he’d come with her.
“So,” he said, using what could only be called his Protective Big Brother voice, “you’re the British guy.”
“Seriously?!” Emma hissed loud enough for only him to hear as Killian accepted the handshake.
“Aye. And you must be David.”
Her brother looked taken aback. He must have been under the impression Killian had no idea he existed. “Uh, yeah. Emma’s mentioned me then?”
“Oh, yes, several times. She tells me you’re quite the Orioles fan.”
Uh oh . This had the potential to be a recipe for disaster. David did not take comments about his notoriously terrible favorite team lightly. If Killian made any patronizing remarks about the Orioles, any chance at getting on her brother’s good side was doomed.
“I’ve caught highlights from a few games online before,” Killian continued. “Always admired Ripken.”
Emma let out an audible sigh of relief. Killian may very well have been lying through his teeth to appease David, but at least he’d avoided making a bad first impression. “Yes, well,” she butted in, “David’s just here for the ride. We’re dropping him off back at his apartment on our way.” She shot her brother a look that told him not to argue.
The first few minutes in the car were filled with awkward silence as Killian fidgeted in his seat, clearly used to a steering wheel in front of him on the right side, while she tried to ignore David’s presence in the back.
“How was your flight?” she asked after a moment as they headed in the direction of David and Mary Margaret’s building.
“All right. Bit of turbulence, but nothing terrible. The airplane food, on the other hand.” Emma saw him cringe out of the corner of her eye and tried not to laugh. “I’ll be more than happy to see what restaurants you have to recommend in the city.”
“Anything particular you’re up for? Most places aren’t gonna be busy at this time of day. And no, he’s not coming,” she added, glaring at David in the rearview mirror before he had a chance to chime in.
Killian pursed his lips. “Eh, would you judge me if I said I just wanted a good, American cheeseburger?”
She laughed. “That was the last thing I expected. But no judgment here, Tony Stark.”
“I’m perfectly fine with that comparison.” He grinned. “Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist…”
“I’m sorry, playboy ?” David questioned. Someone didn’t know his movie references.
They arrived in front of David’s building minutes later. “Okay, here we are, you’re welcome for the ride home, talk to you later, bye.” Emma must have gotten her point across since he got out of the car with no objection other than a shake of his head.
“I’m really sorry about that.” She glanced at Killian apologetically as she pulled back out into traffic. “I didn’t know he was going to show up and insist on coming with me, or I would have warned you.”
“It’s quite alright, Swan. He was just looking out for you. If I’m being truthful, not wanting you to be alone when you met someone you’d come across online isn’t an unreasonable request.”
“I totally get that to a certain extent, but I know you well enough to trust that you’re not, like, a serial killer. Unless you have something you wanna tell me.”
He barked out a laugh. “Rest assured, love, I have no blood on my hands. At least, none but my brother’s when we were lads.”
“Let me guess, it was always Liam who started it?”
“Sure. We’ll go with that.”
Traffic was light at that point in the afternoon, the two of them arriving at Emma’s chosen destination sooner than she was expecting. “This place might not look like much,” she told him as she pulled into a parking spot in front of Granny’s, “but she’s got the best burgers and fries, excuse me, chips , in town as far as I’m concerned.”
“And grilled cheese and onion rings as well, I presume?”
“You’re a smart man, Killian.”
The diner was fairly empty as well, just an older couple drinking milkshakes at the bar and a group of college students crowded around a table with a stack of textbooks.
“Is there anywhere in particular you’d like to sit?” she asked Killian.
“No. It’s your pick.”
They took a booth near the back of the diner. Emma handed him one of the plastic menus and flipped through one herself, even though her order had been virtually the same over the years. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt her to branch out a little more with her choices, even if it was just getting a burger or chicken club instead of a grilled cheese for once.
A waitress came to take their orders after a few minutes. Killian requested the cheeseburger he’d wanted with fries, the American term sounding foreign on his lips. She ordered the same.
“No grilled cheese and onion rings? Are we sure this is the real Emma Swan?” Killian asked, feigning concern.
She shrugged. “I’m trying to live a little. And for someone like me, that’s apparently as simple as ordering a burger. Or maybe you’re just a bad influence,” she teased.
“Oi! I wasn’t a bad influence when I helped you make cupcakes in your time of need.”
“Yeah, yeah, technicalities.”
There was a long pause as Emma tried to figure out what to say next. She wondered if Killian was having similar thoughts. This was an easier problem to remedy when they were texting or talking on the phone and she could turn the conversation to whatever show they were on at the time. Even still, there wasn’t the added component of having him across from her to sense any awkward tension between them.
Killian broke the ice. “I’ve been meaning to ask, Swan, have you ever seen One Day At a Time ? Been seeing a lot about it online lately.”
“I haven’t actually.” She should have remembered most of their best conversations began with shows. “You know how I feel about good sitcoms though.”
“Aye. Perhaps we’ll add it to our unofficial to watch list?”
“I like the way you think, Jones.”
They talked for awhile about the season of Schitt’s Creek they were working on until the waitress brought their food a few minutes later. The conversation had somehow turned to which of Moira’s wigs would look best on him. It was hard not to laugh as Killian nearly swallowed his beloved cheeseburger whole.
“Don’t judge me,” he said through a mouthful of fries when he noticed Emma snickering. “I was bloody starving.”
“Clearly.” She dipped one of her own fries in the generous pile of ranch dressing on the side of her plate. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have so easily done away with all that English charm us Americans aren’t civilized enough to have.”
“What do you mean ‘done away with’? I’ll have you know I’m always charming, love.”
“Says the man who has ketchup on his chin.”
Killian’s face reddened as he grabbed a napkin and wiped off said ketchup. It was barely enough to be noticeable, but she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to tease him a bit.
As they ate, the conversation shifted from shows to Killian’s work and what he’d be doing in Boston over the next few days. She didn’t know much about his job, other than that he worked for Liam and their company provided parts and equipment for ships. While the company’s primary clientele was located in the London area near their home office, they were looking to expand to other areas as well, hence the meetings Killian had flown over to attend.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but why were you the one to make the trip instead of Liam?” she asked. “I don’t really know how a lot of business procedures work, but it seems like he would be the one to handle stuff like that considering he’s over everyone else.”
“Aye, you would think so. But the truth of the matter is, Liam’s tied up with so much within our office. Not to mention he doesn’t like making trips now since he’s got Belle and the kids. From both of those angles, it makes more sense for me to handle as much of the international business as I’m qualified for since I truly have nothing tying me down in London nowadays.”
Emma hated the way her heart skipped a beat at his words. If he had nothing tying him down at home, did that also mean there was no girlfriend there too?
(Could she ask him something like that without him seeing right through her?)
“That’s, uh, great,” she told him, trying to get back to the point of the conversation. “That you’re able to travel for him. I’m sure you get a lot of cool opportunities and stuff.”
“Opportunities like getting to eat an American cheeseburger while I have a face to face conversation about sitcoms?”
“Exactly.”
Killian asked a handful of questions about her job, how she liked her boss and coworkers, if she’d dealt with any major cases lately.
“Not really. It’s mostly the usuals, cheating husbands and deadbeat parents.”
He frowned. “Pity situations like those occur enough to be ‘usuals.’”
“It’s enough to make me want to throw in the towel sometimes if I’m being honest. These people are lucky enough to have a family in the first place, and they just throw it to the side like it means nothing to them.”
Emma didn’t realized what she’d said until it was too late. While she’d become comfortable enough with Killian to share certain details about her personal life over the past few months, her upbringing in foster care was the one subject she’d avoided. She’d heard stories of his and Liam’s upbringing by their single mother, who died when Killian was in college. The only family she’d ever mentioned to him was David, and he didn’t even know they weren’t actually siblings.
But that wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have at Granny’s in the middle of the afternoon. She wasn’t sure how much time he had free to spend with her, or when she would see him again. If you even will , she thought.
Sensing her discomfort, Killian reached across the table and gave her hand a squeeze. “Is everything alright, love?”
The feeling of his hand in her own stopped Emma’s train of thought. She almost hated how comforting it was. “Yeah, it’s nothing.” She gave what she hoped looked like a genuine smile. There was no need to waste her time with him focusing on bad memories. “What do you say we pay the bill and go do some sight seeing? Boston isn’t New York or LA, but it can be fun. I think so anyway.”
“Sounds like a plan, love.”
They bickered at the cash register over who was going to pay. Killian wanted to be a gentleman, Emma wanted him to feel like her guest in some way. She somehow won. “You can buy me a bear claw at my favorite bakery later if you really want to,” she told him as she swiped her debit card through the reader and he stood to the side pouting.
She and Killian were heading for the door when a familiar face entered the diner. The sight of Ruby made Emma consider grabbing Killian and hiding him.
“Emma!” Her friends’ eyes lit up when she spotted them, red lips breaking out into a grin.
“Hey, Rubes. I didn’t think you were working today.” She would have taken Killian to eat somewhere else otherwise. Emma loved her friend, but something told her Ruby would have less of a filter than usual around him.
“I wasn’t, but Ashley had a doctors’ appointment and asked me to cover her shift.” She glanced around Emma to get a look at Killian. “Oh, is this the English guy? You didn’t tell me he was hot.”
The urge to crawl under the nearest table was tempting. “Uh, yeah,” she said, her face reddening, even more so when she realized it sounded like she was agreeing with Ruby’s comment. She turned to Killian. “This is my friend, Ruby. Granny’s is, well, her grandmother’s.”
Ruby held her hand out to him. “It’s so nice to put a face with the name. Emma talks about you all the time.”
Emma shot her a death stare as Killian accepted the handshake and brought her hand to his lips. “It’s a pleasure, love. I’ve heard quite a bit about you as well.”
“Such a charmer.” Ruby’s grin widened. “I love it.”
“Yeah, well, we were just leaving, and I know you have to get to work.” She grabbed Killian’s hand and pulled him out the door before Ruby had another chance to embarrass her. “Bye!”
Emma groaned as soon as the door to Granny’s had shut behind her. “I’m sorry about that. She means well, but she tends to come off a bit strong.”
“No worries, Swan. I can’t say I have many objections with a woman who so freely acknowledges my good looks.” He smirked, and she couldn’t help but think how much she wanted to kiss the smile off of his face.
Which she wasn’t going to do. Because that would be ridiculous. “Yeah, I’m never gonna let her live that down.”
She moved her car to a free public lot and spent the next hour with Killian, walking around downtown Boston to show him some of her favorite spots in the area. She pointed out the precinct where she often dropped off bail jumpers, the library, her favorite coffee shop, and the bakery that made the best bear claws in town.
“You can definitely return the favor from lunch now,” Emma told him when they entered the shop and she caught a whiff of something that smelled like butter and cinnamon.
“Whatever the lady wishes.”
“The lady definitely wishes for a bear claw. Or five.”
In the end she requested one, although Killian told the attendant to add another to her bag. “In case you’d like one for the weekend and don’t feel like making the trip.”
“Bold of you to assume I’ll let it go uneaten for that long.”
They sat at a bench outside the bakery since the weather was nice. Mid September in Boston was often ideal since it was still warm without being unbearably hot. Emma took one of her bear claws out of the paper bag and bit into it, letting the warm dough melt in her mouth. “You don’t know what you’re missing,” she told Killian, who had started eating his blueberry scone.
“I’ll take your word for it, Swan. You know I’m not fond of raisins.”
“Whatever.” She feigned disappointment. “More for me.”
It occurred to Emma that she had yet to ask another important question. She had no idea how long he would be in Boston, and if she would get to see him again after today. Killian had mentioned in previous conversations that he had a handful of meetings over the following two days, but nothing about what his schedule looked like or when he would be flying back.
Killian picked up on her unspoken apprehension. “What’s going on in that head of yours, love?”
She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Hadn’t she decided she wasn’t going to waste time worrying while he was there? “It’s nothing,” she insisted again. Killian’s expression suggested he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t press the issue.
“Did I tell you my nephew is into Peppa Pig now?” she asked, knowing he might like this change of subject. “He’s, like, fascinated with the British accents and tries to talk like the characters all the time now. It’s hilarious.”
His eyes lit up. “Is that so? I like this lad already. Although I do prefer Percy Pigs myself. It’s a type of candy,” he explained when her eyebrows shot up. A quick Google search provided a photo of what he was referring to, which was, as suggested, a gummy in the shape of a pig’s head.
It was weird, if she was being frankly honest, but Leo would love them. “Kid’s definitely getting an order of these for his next birthday.”
Emma finished her bear claw and wiped her mouth with a napkin from the bakery. But she must have not done an adequate job. Killian leaned over. “You missed a spot, love,” he said, brushing his thumb at the corner of her mouth. Any reply she had was forgotten with the gesture as she became hyper focused on the brief but startling feeling of his touch.
“Uh, thanks.” The words came out raspy and uneven.
Her reaction seemed to make Killian realize what he’d done. “Apologies, Swan. I wasn’t thinking.”
She couldn’t stop herself from blurting out the question that followed. “What are we doing here, Killian?”