Chapter Text
Once upon a time a desperate boy chose to forgive a pirate. Together they fought off their foes and led their crew away from the island that tried to trap them. They kept trying to escape that land for centuries, and along the way, they became a family.
Eventually, they found a way to another land. A land without magic.
*~*
Once upon a time a lost girl chose to forgive the desperate woman who offered to be her sister. The woman stopped raving about magic, and instead became the home the girl had always wanted. Together they found new, better lives.
*~*
Once upon a time a twenty-six year old Boston police officer named Emma bought her first house. She and her foster mother toasted the occasion with champagne. Their relationship had issues, but Emma still shared all her most special moments with Ingrid.
For the next three months Emma worked hard and long to finish the basement apartment that tantalized with the promise of covering more than half her mortgage payment with the rental income. And when she was done she hung a sign on her front gate and put a listing online.
After the first half-dozen calls she began to wonder if the landlord gig was such a good idea after all—all the lookers had been definite, immediate NOs. Then she got another call—this one from a middle-aged man with a faintly British accent. He’d just gotten the manager job at a convenience store in her area, and he and his adult son were looking for a place in the area to live. He was trying to get his son away from some bad influences in their current neighborhood.
“Well,” Emma answered, “I’m a cop, so if I was him I’d hesitate to pull any crap while living in my basement.”
The man laughed. He said it sounded perfect, and could he come see the place? They set a time, and Emma thought maybe she’d found the right tenant.
*~*
Bae still didn’t think they needed to move. Killian disagreed.
They’d survived the first year and a half in this realm by stealing and conning their way through life. But once Killian had a clear idea of what prisons were like in this land—and of how dogged and effective the law enforcement could be (better by far than any he’d encountered in other realms)—he’d realized that their only chance for a happy shot at mortality would be to go straight. No more crime. Nothing but an honest day’s work from there on out. His last act as a lawbreaker had been to use his underworld contacts to build new identities and get the legal papers they’d need to get proper jobs.
He and Bae had made a deal. They were in this together.
Killian had kept his end of the bargain. Bae, on the other hand…
Killian wanted to blame it on the lad’s so-called-friends. He hoped that was all it was. But Bae had been lucky to get off with community service and probation. Next time wouldn’t be so easy.
“It’s a better neighborhood,” Killian insisted. “You’ll find a better job there. And better friends.”
Bae only scowled. “Now I’ll have to take a train every time I want to hang with my boys. This is a joke.”
Killian frowned. “Get yourself a proper job and maybe you can buy a car. Until then, I’m the one paying the bills, so we live where I say we live.”
He hoped that would be the end of it, though he feared it wouldn’t be.
The next day he drove out to the new neighborhood to look at three different apartments.
He hadn’t been too thrilled by the prospect of living in a basement—though the price was right—but the instant he got one look at the prospective landlady, he knew this was the place.
Though there were pretty ladies by the hundreds everywhere he went in this land without magic, he’d never seen anyone who took his breath away quite like Emma Swan.
*~*
Emma couldn’t have been more startled when her British expat—one Killian Jones—showed up for his apartment tour. As a convenience store manager with a grown son, she’d been expecting someone in his mid-forties, a bit round about the middle. The stunningly handsome man who, on his rental application, claimed to be thirty-four, was the furthest thing from her imagination. She was so distracted by his vivid blue eyes and charming smile that it took her nearly five minutes to notice the hook-shaped prosthetic he wore in place of his left hand.
“Oh,” she said in surprise when her eyes fixed on it. “Are you a veteran?” It was the first thing that had popped into her mind.
“Aye,” he replied, his accent seeming thicker. “I served in the Navy for a bit, and then on commercial vessels. But this was just from a dumb accident.” He raised the hook, which, she noticed, could open to grasp things when he moved it just so. “It drove me to land, though,” he said. “Couldn’t keep up with the jobs at sea after this.”
“Hence your current line of work,” she said. She’d wondered how a man as charming as him could have ended up in such a dreary occupation. Still, she felt a familiar tingle at the back of her neck that she always got when someone lied to her.
“Exactly,” he replied.
She tried not to be too distracted by the nagging sensation that some of his story wasn’t exactly true as she showed him the apartment and interviewed him a little more. All the references he’d emailed in advance had checked out, as had her quick background check. He had clean credit, a good work history, and always paid his rent on time. On paper he seemed like the perfect tenant. But his son had come up with a recent conviction on his record when she ran a background check. Maybe that’s why her inner alarms were going off.
“That’s why I’m so eager to move. Get him some new friends and a fresh start,” Killian said, when she asked. “He made a foolish mistake, and I want him to do better from here on out.”
Emma squeezed her lips together and folded her arms across her chest. His sentiment about his son rang true. But something else was still off. “You’re too young to have an almost-nineteen year old son,” she prodded.
Killian’s face grew somber. “He’s not mine by birth. I was with Baylor’s mother after she left her husband. When she died, Bay stayed with me. I loved his mother, and I love him. He doesn’t have to be my blood to be family.”
The story tugged at her heart. This kid was exactly where she’d been—a troubled childhood, but a shot at a second chance with a foster parent who loved him.
Emma was a strong believer in second chances.
Maybe this was foolish, but…
She took a deep breath. “I want to rent you this apartment, Mr. Jones. I want Bay to have his second chance. But first you need to do something for me.”
Killian raised a questioning eyebrow. “What?”
“Stop lying to me.”
He looked startled, and his mouth fell open.
Emma spoke again before he could say anything. “You see, I have kind of a super power. I can nearly always tell when someone is lying to me. And even though everything you’ve given me checks out, something about your story is ringing all my bells. You’re hiding something. I don’t care what it is, as long as you’re no threat to me. But if you don’t tell me the truth right now there’s no way in hell I’m giving you this apartment.”
*~*
Killian knew rationally that this was the moment to walk away. To rent somewhere else. But something about her drew him in—almost like she’d spun a spell around him.
He couldn’t tell her the full truth, of course. She’d think him a madman. But, no matter how irrational it might be, he wanted her to trust him.
He lifted his chin and squared his shoulders. “I was a criminal,” he said. “I didn’t lie about the Navy, but after I got out I took up a life of crime—on and off the waters. And when I got together with Bay’s mum, I pulled her into that life along with me. It’s what got her killed. But I vowed that I’d never let that happen to Bay. And when I saw him starting to get into trouble—to follow my bad example—I vowed to change. And I have changed. I’ve gone straight. I confess that some of my past as I’ve presented it to you is a fabrication. Not even my employers know the truth. But I did it for Bay. To give him his best chance. And for nearly four years now I’ve been a good, hardworking, trustworthy employee. I earned the new job on my own merits. I swear on my heart I’m not going back to my old ways. I’m a reformed man.” He swallowed. Her eyes studied him, but he couldn’t read what they saw. Was he building his own cell here? Or could she see the man of honor behind the old pirate?
“I truly do want the best in this life for Bay,” he continued. “I wasn’t what I ought to have been when he was younger, but I am now, and I’m determined to set him on a straight path. Get him his GED and get him into college. I want the best for him. That’s all.” Killian lifted his chin again and met her gaze.
Slowly, she nodded. “Thank you. I believe you.” She stepped toward him and offered her hand. “The apartment is yours, if you want it.”
Killian could hardly believe his ears. “It is?”
“It is.”
He reached out to shake her hand before she could change her mind, and a warm thrill ran through him at the feeling of her firm grip.
He shook his head and couldn’t help but ask, “Why?”
She smiled, and his heart skipped a beat.
“I grew up in the foster system, moving from home to home every few months for my whole life,” she said. “Until I was fourteen, and my foster mom gave me a second chance at a real life when I needed it the most and adopted me. I’m a firm believer in fresh starts and second chances. As long you and Bay are working hard on yours, you’re welcome to live here. On one condition.”
He managed to regain his power of speech after being mesmerized by her story. This was a woman he could understand—and one who could understand him. Maybe fate had a hand in leading him here. “What condition?”
She smiled again. “Bay has to let me tutor him for his GED. And if you never graduated, you have to join in and study to get yours, too.”
He sucked in a deep breath. If fate had brought him here, he must have done something to please the gods. She was simply amazing. “I confess I never did finish my schooling,” he admitted. He tilted his head and flashed a grin. “Are you sure you’re up to the task? We can be quite a handful.”
She smirked and nodded. “I think I’ll manage.”
*~*
Emma helped her new tenants move in a week later. Bay, a young man who was clearly still just a boy at heart, was very much like she expected him to be. With his disheveled mop of brown hair and his large puppy-dog eyes he was handsome (though not as handsome as his foster dad), but he insisted on wearing a sullen frown for the first hour of the move.
Eventually he began to soften to her attempts at conversation, and before the end of the day she finally got a glimpse of the smile that she was certain had already broken several hearts.
With his stubborn “I know best” attitude and his reluctance to trust he reminded Emma so much of the girl she used to be. She’d held onto that attitude for several years after her adoption, and she wasn’t surprised to find Bay still clinging to it several years after his dad’s attempt to go straight.
The more she saw of him the more she wanted to help him. And seeing his dad’s obvious love and affection for the young man reassured her that her impulsive decision to rent to a pair with a shady past wasn’t a mistake.
Plus, from the many boxes of books on topics ranging from science and engineering to history and poetry (plus a well-worn stack of science fiction paperbacks), she guessed that tutoring them for the GED wouldn’t be too hard a job, either.
She doubted Ingrid would approve of her decision, if she knew all the facts. But this was Emma’s home and Emma’s choice, and she was happy with it.
*~*
Killian started his new job a few days after moving in, and was startled that afternoon when Emma and her partner, a middle-aged man, turned up in full uniform at his store.
He blinked in surprise and grinned at the sight of her in her blue uniform bedecked with a shiny badge, her weapon holstered at her side. “You’re looking lovely today, Swan,” he said. At the sight of her amused smile he added. “I always had a thing for women in uniform.” That earned him a laugh.
She introduced her partner, Officer Martinez, and said, “I thought we’d stop in and say hello when I realized that you’re on our beat.”
“You can drop by my store anytime, love,” he replied.
And she did. By the end of the week a midmorning drop-in for some small talk and two large coffees (on the house) had become a ritual. One he looked forward to with bated breath.
Falling for the landlady might not be the wisest thing he’d ever done, but after so many years of clinging to his memories of Milah it felt like a revelation to discover he might finally be able to move on.
*~ *
Bay and Killian had both worn sour looks on their faces when Emma dropped a tall stack of GED prep books on their kitchen table, but the weekly study sessions had quickly turned into anticipated occasions. Killian always had a box of donuts ready and waiting when she arrived (it had taken him all of two days to discover donuts were her guilty pleasure—such a cliché, but she couldn’t help herself), and the three of them would study for several hours before he pulled out the beers. (Emma turned a blind eye to Bay taking one, too. She hadn’t waited until she was 21 to start drinking, either—much to Ingrid’s chagrin—and better he do it at home than out with his friends.) For the rest of the night, until she was too tired to think and had to stumble up the stairs to home, they’d simply talk. Even Bay would open up about his thoughts and feelings—the way he missed his old friends, and his frustrations finding a job with a conviction on his record.
“I know a few of the construction site managers in the area,” Emma said after a long and frustrated vent from Bay. “I’ve helped out with site thefts and vandalism. They owe me some favors. I know you don’t want to do construction anymore, but it’ll help keep the bills paid while you get your GED and get yourself through college. I can ask around, see if any of them have a place for you.”
Bay stared at her with wide, nervous eyes. “You’d really do that?”
“Sure,” she said, as nonchalantly as she could. She remembered feeling shocked every time someone other than Ingrid did something nice for her for a few years after the adoption. Adapting to change can be hard—but it was worth it.
Bay nodded, his features settling into typical teen apathy, but she could still see the gratitude in his eyes. “Cool. Thanks.”
Emma nodded and glanced over at Killian. He wore a soft smile on his face and his eyes glowed as he looked at her in a way that made her core flare with heat.
Damn it—she hadn’t let them rent here to get laid. She’d done it to help them get a fresh start. Her stupid hormones needed to cool it and let her just be the friend and benefactor she wanted to be without complicating things.
She left herself a few minutes later, using an early pre-shift meeting as an excuse. But thoughts of Killian’s smile and his captivating eyes lingered in her mind long after she went to bed.
A little over a week later she discovered that Killian liked to play soccer in the neighborhood park with a few “mates,” as he called them, after work a few times a week.
Emma usually went for a run through the neighborhood after her shift, and when she ran past the park she saw him there with his friends, grinning and laughing as they played. God he was stunning in his tight tee shirt with his smile like the sun and sweat glistening on his forehead.
She didn’t stop running the first time she saw him like that, but soon enough, on the nights she knew he’d be there, she structured her run to have a natural break right there at the park so she could drop in and say hello for a few minutes before her jog home.
She tried to convince herself that it was just a friendly-neighbor gesture, but deep down she knew better.
*~*
Killian was pleasantly surprised when he was invited to Emma’s twenty-seventh birthday party, in late October. Donna, a friend from Emma’s police district, threw the party at her house, but only a handful of close friends and family were invited—including Emma’s foster mother, Ingrid.
Killian made sure to dress in his best trousers and a very nice leather waistcoat, and bought a new shirt for the occasion. He felt the urge to make a good impression on Emma’s friends—and especially on her only family in the world.
Donna’s eyes lit up when Killian arrived, a bottle of wine in hand. “So you’re the renter Emma’s told me so much about.” She looked him up and down as if appraising a new car.
Killian smiled. “She talks about me, does she?”
“Uh huh,” Donna replied, taking the wine and nodding in agreement. “And I can see why. Come on in.”
Killian’s face felt pleasantly warm at both Donna’s clear approval and at the insinuation that Emma thought enough of him to speak of him with her friends. Perhaps his romantic aspirations had a stronger foundation than he’d known.
Still, his nerves flared when Emma introduced him to Ingrid, and he met with the woman’s cold stare. She was younger than he expected—no more than fifteen years Emma’s elder. Emma had once told him their relationship was more sisterly than mother/daughter, and now he understood why.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said.
“Yes. I’m glad to finally meet Emma’s pet project,” Ingrid replied, in a soft, lulling voice that seemed to promise a dose of venom behind the initial sweetness.
They didn’t have long to chat before Emma swept him off to introduce him to her other friends, but he felt her eyes lingering on him.
By and large Killian had a good time at the party, but he felt Ingrid’s gaze of disapproval on him the entire time. Though they barely spoke the whole party, he went home that night with the distinct impression that Ingrid would never approve of him as anything more than a friend with Emma.
*~*
“So do you think you and your 7-11 hottie are ever gonna get together?” Donna asked Emma the next time they saw each other.
Emma sputtered for a minute, completely unable to answer. “I—I—well—you know—he’s my renter. It could be—you know—complicated?”
Donna shrugged. “A man like that is probably worth a few complications. If you’re not interested, I might want to take a shot.”
A hard knot formed in Emma’s chest at the thought of Killian doing anything remotely resembling a date with anyone—especially one of her friends. Yes, dating him would be complicated. In the past five months she’d come to think of him and Bay as close friends, and she’d hate to screw that up. But there were moments when the sight of his smile, or the sound of his laugh, or the way his arms looked in short-sleeves, made her heart race and her core tingle. Was she just making excuses out of fear of getting hurt? It was hard to say. But she knew she didn’t like the idea of him with someone else.
Donna held up her hands. “Hey—sorry. I can see you’ve got some kind of thing going on here. I won’t tread on your toes. He’s all yours.”
Emma smiled apologetically. “Sorry. I guess I’m just not sure what I want, yet. But—maybe there’s something there. I don’t know.”
“Figure it out,” Donna said. “You deserve someone good in your life.”
“Thanks.”
When she saw Killian again that evening in the park, a rope of uncertainty twisted inside her, but she tried to act normal as they joked and chatted.
Killian’s eyes narrowed. “You all right, Swan? Something seems a bit off.”
Emma shook her head. She wasn’t ready for this conversation. “I’m just a little tired. I think I might be coming down with a cold.”
His eyes widened with concern. “You shouldn’t be out running, then. Let’s get you home and get you to bed.” He rested his hand on the small of her back, sending a shiver of nervous excitement through her, and started ushering her down the block toward their street.
“I’ll be okay, really,” she protested. The idea of Killian getting her to bed was giving her all kinds of thoughts that she really didn’t want to deal with right now.
“Nonsense. The community depends on you, Officer Swan.” He grinned and winked.
Emma sighed. He wasn’t making this easy.
She managed to send him away at her door when he seemed poised to walk her all the way to her bedroom. She leaned back against the door after closing it behind him and sighed.
Was his friendship too important to put on the line, or was it worth the risk? And how the hell was she supposed to make up her mind?
*~*
Killian stared at the trays of home cooked food, and, once again, felt a little foolish.
Emma had volunteered to work Thanksgiving and the entire Thanksgiving weekend in exchange for a longer holiday at Christmastime. A sensible thing to do.
But Killian’s response to that news had been anything but sensible. He’d got it into his head to cook her a surprise Thanksgiving dinner—no matter that he’d never cooked anything half that complicated before.
He’d just heard her get home from work upstairs. And here it all was. A roast turkey breast. Potatoes and gravy. Stuffing. Rolls. And pie.
And what the hell was he doing? She was his friend, and Bae’s friend. But in spite of a little casual flirting she’d shown no sign of wanting anything more.
But if he went through with this little surprise of his, he might as well write her a note: “Dear Swan – You do know I love you, don’t you?”
He grimaced at the thought.
The sound of aluminum foil ripping woke him from his reverie of self-doubt, and he watched Bae slap the foil over the top of the trays. “Shall we?” Bae said.
Killian took a deep breath. Well. The deed was done. There was no turning back now. He nodded and picked up his share of the food to tote it up and around to Emma’s front door.
Her tired face broke into a smile when she opened the door and saw them there. “What’s all this?”
“Your Thanksgiving feast,” said Bae, a little smirk on his face. “Dad’s idea.”
Her jaw dropped. “Oh my God! You guys are so sweet. Come in, come in.”
Though they’d had a bit to eat earlier, Killian and Bae joined in as she dug into the meal with gusto. He loved to watch her eat. He’d been without food at several points in his life, and he knew the look of a person who’d trained themself to eat when they had the chance, out of fear of starving. She relished every bite.
After getting over his initial embarrassment they settled into their usual comfortable rapport. After finishing their meal they settled on her couches to watch the football game she’d recorded and swapped stories of the odd characters they both ran into in their lines of work, while Bae sat texting his friends.
And though she sat a little closer to him than usual, their legs almost touching, he tried not to read anything into it.
When the hour grew late he and Bae did the washing up and took their leave. Emma thanked them again and gave Bae a warm, sisterly hug. Killian’s heart jumped when she turned to him with her arms spread wide.
This was something new.
Swallowing his nerves he reciprocated her offered embrace. She pulled him closer than he’d expected, and rested her head on his shoulder. He wondered if maybe her sudden burst of affection was simply a result of the wine, but he hoped it was more.
“Thank you, Killian,” she murmured. “You really are a great guy. I hope you know that.”
He breathed deep, his nose filling with the pleasant scent of her work-day sweat mingled with traces of floral shampoo and pumpkin pie. “Why thank you, milady.”
She chuckled, her body vibrating in his arms, and she squeezed a little tighter. God, it felt good to be holding her. “I’m glad I decided to let you rent the apartment.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
She leaned back a bit to meet his eyes, but still so close he could feel the warmth of her breath on his lips. His heart pounded. Could this really be happening?
Then, a moment later, whatever spell they’d been under decided to shatter, and she slid her arms off of him and stepped back.
“Thanks,” she repeated. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” he replied, stepping back out into the cold night.
*~*
“I still can’t believe you invited those men over for Christmas Eve dinner,” said Ingrid for what must be the tenth time that day as she ferociously kneaded bread dough on the floured counter.
Emma paused briefly in her potato-peeling to grit her teeth. “Please don’t start this again. I want tonight to be pleasant. It’s my first Christmas dinner in my own house. Could you humor just this once?”
Ingrid grimaced and went back to her kneading.
She’d protested that this was supposed be a family dinner, and had blithely ignored Emma’s counter argument that August wasn’t technically family either, for all that he’d been in their lives almost since the adoption.
Emma had no idea why Ingrid disliked Killian so much. Not that she’d liked any of Emma’s other boyfriends.
Not that Killian was even her boyfriend, Emma had to remind herself.
Things between them had changed, lately. Not in a bad way, but definitely in a way that made her even more confused than before. They both seemed to be hovering on the edge of something more than just friends, but neither of them seemed willing to take that leap, yet. Maybe they never would. Ugh.
She really didn’t want to think about it tonight. She just wanted to enjoy her Christmas.
“I, for one, am looking forward to getting to know these friends of yours,” piped up August, from where he sat artistically arranging the fruit in his fancy apple tart—the dish had become a tradition ever since he started joining them for Christmas. “They sound like they have some interesting stories to tell.”
Emma smiled. August’s natural journalistic curiosity had been enough for him to figure out that her tenants were more than what they seemed, but she doubted he’d be able to pry anything resembling the truth out of them. She wasn’t worried. “Thank you. At least I know someone here is on my side.”
“Always,” August replied with a grin, before winking at the still-frowning Ingrid.
Emma still hadn’t determined whether or not the two of them were back on at the moment. She’d given up trying to decipher the complexities of her foster mother’s relationship with their oldest friend a few years ago. It didn’t matter to her whether they were sleeping together at the moment or not, just so long as they were still getting along.
August was somewhere in between her age and Ingrid’s, and had been a strange mix of cool older brother and quirky stepfather to Emma ever since he came into their lives.
Their odd little family might be far from conventional, but Emma loved them both, and they loved her. That was more than she’d had for the first fourteen years of her life, so she was grateful for it every day, no matter how bizarre it might look to outsiders.
*~*
Killian took one last bite of the amazing apple tart and then sank back in his chair with a contented sigh. In spite of a few poisonous glares from Ingrid, the dinner was going very well. Ingrid’s boyfriend August was a charming fellow, and they’d all been getting alone quite well. Killian had even managed to convince Bae to stop texting his new girlfriend, Becky, for the night.
Killian hadn’t met Becky, yet, but he already liked her. Bae hadn’t mentioned his old mates once since he started going out with her. A job and a girlfriend had been just what the lad needed to move on with his life.
“This was a wonderful feast,” Killian said. “Thank you all very much.” He tried to catch Ingrid’s eye in particular, and finally won an almost-smile out of her with his thanks.
After dinner they shifted to the family room for a board game and more wine. By the time the game ended they were all getting a little tipsy. Killian grinned at the way Emma giggled and made naughty jokes when she was a bit drunk. He’d only seen her like this two other times, and he couldn’t get enough.
Ingrid and Emma went to do the dishes while Bae went to the bathroom, and Killian was left alone with August to clean up the game.
“Hell of a snowstorm out there,” said August casually.
“Aye. Took me a few years to get used to these winters when Bae and I first came to Boston, but I think we’ve adapted by now,” replied Killian.
August nodded and picked up a few more cards, stacking them neatly in a pile before adding, “Ingrid loves the snow. Reminds her of home—back in Arendelle.”
Killian froze, a brick of ice dropping in his gut. The man couldn’t have said what he just said—could he? Killian had yet to come across a book or fairytale that mentioned Arendelle in this realm. Perhaps he misheard.
Playing it cool and casual, he nodded. “Good for her. I may be used to the snow, but I’m not sure I’ll ever love it. But the world takes all types, eh?”
August studied him with narrowed eyes, as if trying to read his mind. “Yes. It does.”
August made no other such comments for the remainder of the evening, but that one offhand remark was enough to set Killian on edge. He tried to put on a happy face for the gift exchange—Emma seemed delighted with the book and gloves he and Bae got her, and Killian was certainly pleased with the new soccer ball she got him. But the ice in his gut never quite thawed.
As soon as he got home for the night, he turned on his computer and typed “Arendelle” into a search engine. Nothing resembling the land he’d visited many a time on the Jolly Roger turned up.
He had to have misheard August. But a nagging instinct told him he hadn’t. There was more going on here than met the eye.
And things with Emma suddenly felt even more complex.
*~*
“You should go out with me and Becky, tonight,” Bae nagged as Killian dressed for work on New Year ’s Eve.
“There’s no one to fill in my shift. And I’d be a terrible third wheel,” replied Killian.
Bae sighed. “You could ask Emma.”
Killian frowned. Over the past week he’d discovered the downside to Bae’s new relationship—he’d started nagging Killian about his own love life.
“She’s working, too.”
Bae rolled his eyes. “Only because you gave her no reason not to work. Seriously, Dad. This thing with her is never going to go anywhere if you don’t step it up and ask her out.”
Killian shook his head. “You know things are complicated.”
“Not as complicated as you act like.”
Killian hadn’t told Bae about the incident with August, yet. No need to worry the lad over something that was probably a misunderstanding. But it still made him hesitant to act until he knew for sure. What was he really getting mixed up in here?
But did it really matter? If somehow Emma’s foster mother and her boyfriend turned out to be from a magical realm, would it change the way he felt about Emma.
No. Nothing would.
Bae stood up and ambled over to him. “Look, Dad, I hate to be so blunt, but you need to stop living in the past. I never expected you to stay loyal to my mom forever. And I’m not a kid anymore. You don’t need to put all your focus on me. It’s time to think about yourself once in awhile. It’s okay to let yourself be happy.”
Killian glared at him. As much as he enjoyed seeing Bae so confident and happy, he could do without the lecture. “So I’m to learn from your wisdom and experience now, am I?”
Bae smiled and chuckled. “Exactly.”
Killian shook his head and turned back to the mirror to finish combing his hair. “So you think Emma is the key to my happiness, eh?”
Bae shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. But you’ll never know if you don’t try.”
On that point, at least, the lad was absolutely right.
*~*
Emma was just getting off her shift when her cell rang. She saw Killian’s name pop up, and knew this was the call she’d been waiting for. “Well?” she asked, in place of her usual greeting.
“We got the scores,” Killian said, his voice light and happy. Emma began to smile. “We both passed with high marks. You’re now talking to a man who’s earned his GED.”
“Yay!” Emma bounced a little in excitement. She knew it didn’t mean much for Killian’s current career, but it could help lead to better things down the road for him and Bae both. She was delighted for them. “Congratulations! This calls for a celebration. I’ll pick up some booze on the way home and we can have a toast.”
“Ah,” replied Killian, “it may just be the two of us. Bae seems intent on taking Becky out on the town tonight.”
“That’s…” Emma hesitated. They’d been dancing around this thing between for long enough. Maybe tonight was the opportunity they’d both been waiting for. “That’s fine. We can celebrate just the two of us.”
He hesitated a second before answering. “Perfect. I’ll, uh, get some Chinese takeout, you bring the booze. It’ll be great.”
“Yeah. It will.”
Butterflies danced in Emma’s stomach as soon as she hung up. Well. Time to take a leap.
*~*
Killian knew he was in for it when Emma showed up wearing a slightly see-through black top over jeans that hugged every delicious curve and waved a bottle of good rum at him with a grin on her face. He swallowed hard.
He’d still found no resolution to the puzzle August had put in his mind. But in the end it didn’t matter—did it?
Emma smiled at him and licked her lips while she opened the bottle. His heart started to race.
For centuries he’d believed he’d never be able to move on from Milah—that he’d never be able to love again.
But here was proof to the contrary standing right in front of him. He knew he was on the verge of giving her his whole heart if she made a sign that she was ready to take it.
Perhaps Bae was right. Perhaps it was time to let himself be happy.
*~*
After the Chinese food and more than a few toasts with Killian’s favorite rum Emma found herself sitting snuggled up against him on his sofa while they joked about a ridiculous commercial they’d just seen on television when she suddenly felt his arm wrap around her shoulders.
She tipped her face up close to his and held his gaze, searching his eyes. There was want there. She could see it. She could feel it.
With the television still playing in the background and both of them more than a little drunk, it was hardly the most romantic of moments. But it was him, and it was her, and they’d already been playing this game too long.
She leaned a little closer, and kissed him.
Heat surge through her as his lips parted against hers—eagerly—hungrily.
He pulled her closer—God his arms were strong—and she threaded her fingers through his thick hair and caressed his cheek with her thumb. This felt even better than she’d imagined.
She felt her breath shaking in her throat when they tilted apart.
His hand cradled her face and his other arm held her close even as he whispered, “Is this a mistake?”
“No,” she breathed, and kissed him again.
*~*
The past month had passed in a whirlwind for Emma, as she learned what it was to date Killian Jones. He’d proved to have a ridiculously romantic side that including fancy dinners, surprise flowers, and even snippets of love poetry.
There had been awkward moments, too, as there were in any new relationship. But Emma savored those just as much. Every day they got to know each other better, and learned new things about each other. It was an adventure of the very best kind.
She’d never pictured herself with a convenience store manager—it was hardly the stuff of fairytales. But she wasn’t exactly a fairytale princess, either. Besides, reality was better. After just a month she’d begun to think that Killian was someone she could build a life with. Maybe she’d found her own kind of happily ever after.
Now that she knew this was the real thing, the time had come to break the news to Ingrid.
That week at their regular Sunday lunch she fidgeted with nerves all through the meal until Ingrid finally burst out, “Clearly you have something on your mind, Emma. Why don’t you just tell me what it is and get it over with.”
Emma took a deep breath. “Well—you see—” Better keep it fast, liking pulling off a Band-Aid. “Killian and I have started dating. And it’s going really well, and I’m really happy. That’s what I wanted to tell you.”
Ingrid squeezed her lips together and slowly, deliberately, set her fork neatly beside her plate. “Oh.”
Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head. “See—this is exactly why I was nervous to tell you. Why do you hate him so much? Why?”
Ingrid met her eyes with a firm expression. “I don’t hate him. I just don’t trust him. Those are two different things.”
“Well, I trust him. And it’s my life. So you’ll just have to get used to it.” Emma folded her arms across her chest. Damn it—why did Ingrid have to ruin this?
Ingrid shook her head. “I just want what’s best for you. I want you to be happy. That’s all.”
“I am happy,” Emma said. She couldn’t take this. “Look—I’m going. Just—try to get used the idea, because he’s not going anywhere.” She stood up and left the table at the restaurant without looking back. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
*~*
Fresh snow was falling outside Killian’s store when Ingrid barged into his store, still wearing her work scrubs that she wore to her job as a nurse’s aide at the hospital under her coat, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail.
She glared at him with a hard expression. Emma had warned him that Ingrid hadn’t taken the news of their relationship well, but this visit still took him by surprise.
“Hello, Ingrid. This is a sur—“
“We need to talk,” she barked. “In private.”
Killian squeezed his lips together and looked around the store. She was the only customer at the moment. Not many people were out in this weather. He nodded and turned to the other employee working that day. “Lamar—watch the till for a bit. I’m going on break.”
The young man nodded in assent, and Killian grabbed his coat from the back room before following Ingrid outside. They walked around to the back of the building. Ingrid paced, wearing a track in the fresh snow, for a minute before meeting his eyes. “August says you’re one of us. Is he right?”
Killian’s heart contracted in his chest. He’d set his fears about August aside, but now they came flooding back. His mouth hung open.
Ingrid took another step toward him. “Arendelle. Misthaven. Agrabah. You’ve heard of them, haven’t you?”
His hand began to shake, and not from the cold. Finally he nodded. “Aye. My ship used to dock at all three lands.”
He saw tears rise in Ingrid’s eyes. She shook her head and stepped over to the building to lean back against the cinderblock wall. “She’s like a magnet. She draws us all in, whether we want it or not. And she still doesn’t know it. She has no idea.”
Killian narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
Ingrid ignored his question, instead asking one of her own. “August says you’re Captain Hook, and Bay is one of the Lost Boys. Is he right?”
Killian sighed. There was no more doubt they were on the same page. No more question. But what did it all mean? “Aye—more or less. Not what you expected?”
She shook head. “I should know better, by now. None of us fit the picture the stories of this world spin around us.”
“Who are you—and August?” Killian asked.
A weak smile spread on her face. “August is Pinocchio. And I’m the Snow Queen. At least I don’t have a Disney image to contend with, yet.” She sighed.
Killian’s head was spinning. How many more like him were out there, trying to live normal lives? And Emma…
“Why did you say she’s like a magnet? What do you mean? Are you talking about Emma?”
She nodded, looking as mysterious as her alter ego implied with snowflakes dotting her hair and eyelashes. “Yes. None of us brought our magic with us, except for her. She doesn’t know how to use it, of course, but it still radiates around her like a whirlpool, pulling us all in. There were a few others that I managed to turn away before she ever met them. But I missed you.” She laughed a hollow laugh. “You blended in too well. I wasn’t even sure, until after August talked to you.”
Killian shook his head and leaned against the wall beside her as he tried to wrap his mind around what Ingrid was telling him. “Do you mean to say that Emma is one of us?”
Ingrid nodded slowly, and Killian’s heart all but stopped in his chest.
“Yes. But she doesn’t know it. She was born a princess in Misthaven, but was sent here through a magic cabinet minutes after her birth, in order to escape a curse woven by the Dark One and cast by an evil queen. August came with her, to protect her, but he was just a boy of eight. How could he look after an infant in a world like this one? There was no way.”
Each word she spoke hit him like the blow of a blacksmith’s hammer. “The Dark One. Rumplestiltskin?” he whispered.
“The same. You know him?” Ingrid looked up at him curiously.
Killian swallowed hard. God—what would he tell Bae? Had he led the boy back to his doom without knowing it? “We’ve had our run-ins. None of them pleasant.”
“I know the feeling.” Ingrid looked away, and stared down at her feet. “The Dark One foretold that on her twenty-eight birthday Emma would somehow find her parents and break the curse placed over her kingdom. Ever since I learned of that prophecy I’ve lived in terror of her birthdays, knowing that each one of them took us closer to her being pulled back into that world.” Tears rolled down her cheeks.
Killian could hardly breathe. Less than a year—they had less than a year left.
“When I first came here,” said Ingrid, “when I first found her—I meant to take her back to that world with me. I tried to tell her the truth, but it terrified her. I almost lost her before the adoption was even complete. I had to take it all back. I promised to go to therapy and get medication—I called it a mental illness. The medication was just sugar pills, but the therapy was real. And it helped me realize that I’d been all wrong. I didn’t need to take her back to be happy. The life we had here was enough. It was all I really needed.”
Ingrid smiled, but tears continued to well in her eyes. “You see why you being together frightens me? I want her to be happy, but I also want her to escape that fate. August thinks she needs to find her parents and fulfill her destiny. But I just want her to stay here and be happy.”
“Would breaking the curse put her back in the path of the Dark One—and this evil queen you speak of?” Killian asked, already suspecting—and dreading—the answer.
Ingrid nodded. “Yes. It would.”
Killian closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the cold wall. All his old enemies—everything he’d tried so hard to save Bae from—the new happiness he’d only just found—he could feel it all crumbling to dust around him.
“I love her,” he admitted for the first time out loud.
“So do I.” Ingrid laughed. A bitter, mirthless sound. “Fate’s a tricky bitch, isn’t she? Just when you think you’ve got her beat, she comes back to bite you.”
“Aye. That she does.” Killian opened his eyes and stared up at the falling snow. “So what do we do, now?”
Ingrid looked up at the frozen sky along with him. “I have no idea.”
TBC