Chapter Text
"Love, listen to me…"
Flick, stand, lunge. It would be so easy, Emma thinks, to summon her father's sword and run it straight through his stomach. She won't. She could, but she won't. For one, her father is on the other side of the door to her office and for two—well, Henry likely wouldn't approve of her murdering someone like that in cold blood, regardless of how he feels about Killian.
She can hear him now. "I know he's an egotistical creep, but you're better than that, ma." She is better than that, that's the whole problem. She has allowed this thing between them to go on for way too long and now that she's trying to end it, he's reverted to being… himself, and still she can't kill him.
What she ever saw in him is becoming less obvious the more she lets him try to convince her she's making a mistake. At first he was just this mysterious asshole that she thought was kind of hot, then she became the Dark One and suddenly, whatever appeal he used to have is gone. It was nice to be wanted and all, and maybe it's the darkness talking, but she realizes she deserves better than this—this weak-willed, pathetic puppy dog who has to rely on a woman to be a decent person.
Really. She knows she's always had a thing for the bad boys—and the occasional girl—but this is just sad. Killian Jones may have once been a dreaded pirate captain but in the here and now, he's simply a boy stuck in a grown up body and hoping the one woman who gives him the time of day might one day give him time in her pants.
It pains her to think that at some point in her life she had actually found the vomit coming from his mouth to be charming. Sleazy come-ons and disgusting one liners aside, when he tries, he isn't halfway bad but even then, this is not a man she should ever have considered getting to know, let alone date.
"… good together, Swan. I love you and I know you love me, I felt it."
"You felt it," she snorts. "Oh I know exactly where you felt it, Jones." She stands, no longer in the mood to humour his inability to accept rejection with even a small semblance of dignity. "We're done here."
Lifting the black leather jacket from the back of her chair, she strides from the room with his calls at her back and pauses in front of David who looks up with a hesitant smile. "I'm going to grab some lunch. Want anything?"
"A decent coffee would be nice," he says before his eyes dart somewhere behind her and he stands. She glances over a shoulder to see Killian and watches the way his nostrils flare before he takes a step back, turns, and storms out of the office.
"Maybe a sandwich," David adds, returning to his seat. "Preferably something with ham."
Emma smirks. She can be oblivious at times, but even she isn't blind to what just happened. "The over-protective Dad routine is even more unnecessary now than it was before," she reminds him. "But thanks."
"Being the Dark One doesn't absolve you from being my daughter," he counters with a relieved grin. Emma may be able to fight her battles far better than he ever could, but it will be a cold day in hell before he gives up the rights she returned to him as her father; to protect his little girl. "But you're welcome."
He never did like that pirate.