Chapter Text
Row upon row of books ringed Emma Swan while she bent over her notebook. The library was quiet and the lights dimmed as most of the other students had hurried off to grab food in the dining hall before it closed for the night. She scribbled a note in the margin of her paper when the boy slid into the seat across from her.
Emma glanced at her phone and noted that he was forty-five minutes late for their first scheduled tutor session.
“Apologies lass, I was otherwise indisposed.” She raised an eyebrow and noted his messy hair. It looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. For all she knew he had. He squinted at a crumpled piece of paper, raised his eyes to her and caught her gaze.
“Emma Swan, yeah?” He stuck out his hand, “Killian Jones.” She glanced at it, put down her pen, and closed her book with a sigh.
She’d been hoping to get a few students to tutor to defray the costs of attending college in Boston. It had been hard for her to get into this university, she couldn’t imagine not putting everything into her studies. She’d spent hours busting her butt to be granted an academic scholarship.
Her English professor had paired her up with Jones because he had a flair for creativity but little regard for structure and grammar. The teacher thought they’d be able to offset each other's strengths. Emma was a stickler for rules but struggled to be overly descriptive and emotionally vulnerable in her work. “Dry” was how her assignments were often critiqued. She slid her notebook aside.
“Let’s see your paper,” she gestured at him. He dropped his hand and pulled a battered notebook out of his satchel. Flipping it open to a worn, smudged page he spun it towards her.
“I’m hoping you can shed some light on what the professor is complaining about. I can’t flunk this writing course.”
Emma pulled the notebook closer to read the title and glanced through the first paragraph. The professor had noted in the margin that it was very descriptive and showed a real passion for the subject matter, but that it needed to be cleaned up.
“How to eat pizza without burning the roof of your mouth? This is what you picked for your paper?”
She circled misspellings and attempted to punctuate in the correct places. Killian lounged across the table resting his chin on his crossed arms and watched her mark up his writing.
“Were you eating pizza as you wrote this?” He nodded while she pointed to an oily discolored spot on his paper, “is this a sausage stain?”
“Pepperoni,” he grinned.
She didn’t return his smile because his lax attitude was rubbing her the wrong way. She took this class very seriously, and from his choice of topic it didn’t appear that he did. She shook her head, “Do you not have any grasp on the English language?” she asked exasperatedly, continuing to mark up his work. “This is like stream of consciousness with no focus, structure or any attention to verb tense. Don’t get me started on your marginal attempt at following grammar rules and your spelling. It’s a mess!” she threw her hands up and pushed his paper back across the table.
“But that’s why I’m here,” he leaned in closer with a smile, “for you to teach me.”
Emma flushed pink, sat back, and pulled out her own paper to shove across at him. She’d run across too many guys who thought they could drift through school with their good looks and charm, she wasn’t about to let Jones get away with it on her.
“Why don’t you look over my paper so you can see what the professor means by ‘cleaning up your copy.’”
His eyes flicked over her paper while his fingers toyed with a pen. It rolled back and forth between his thumb and forefinger before tapping a steady pattern on the page. His fidgeting was beginning to grate on Emma’s nerves, before he abruptly shoved back his chair and wandered off towards the vending machine. Emma crossed out another misspelled word and frowned. At least he wasn’t a distraction anymore; she bent her head back to the task.
She startled when his arm was suddenly draped across the back of her chair as he slid into the seat next to hers. With his other hand he shoved a bag of chips under her nose and raised his eyebrows in question. “Hungry?”
“No, thank you,” she fought to reign in her irritation. Emma pushed his notebook at him and tried to refocus his attention. “It’s like one big run on sentence, and you don’t even state your topic.”
“It’s inferred,” he explained smoothly.
“Implied,” Emma corrected.
“Whatever,” he bounced up out of the chair. “Let’s get out of here.” He grabbed his notebook and shoved it into his bag.
Emma ran her hand through her hair in frustration. It was like babysitting a five year old. “Aren’t you even interested in correcting your paper?”
“I can think of a lot more enjoyable things to do on a Friday night, Swan,” he smirked at her, “Live a little, the paper can wait till tomorrow.”
Emma gathered her books and packed them away. If Killian Jones wasn’t going to take his tutoring session seriously, why should she waste her time trying to help him?
“No, I am not going to interrupt my study session because you’re bored,” she scolded him.
“See?” Killian nodded at her backpack. “The professor noted that your paper was cold, not enough of you in it. How are you going to be able to write if you don’t live a little?”
She frowned at him. It irked her that Jones had pointed out exactly what her professor had criticized about her writing. How was he able to zero in on the fear that she’d spent most of the semester too wrapped up in studying? Had she missed out on the fun part of college life? Emma glared at him and stomped off, vowing that this was the last time she agreed to help him. Damn Killian Jones for being able to read her too well.
“Come on Swan!” he called after her, “let’s go see what’s up on the roof.” He pushed open the door to the stairwell leading up, but she turned away from him with a roll of her eyes and slipped out the library exit, intent on heading back to her dorm to study in peace.
Leaves tumbled across her path lit by the streetlight as she trudged along the sidewalk. A paper airplane whizzed by her ear and fluttered to the ground in front of her. She turned and frowned up at the roof of the library.
“You have no sense of adventure, Swan!” he called out, leaning dangerously over the edge of the building.
“You’re a crazy person!” she shouted back and spun away, gripping her books tighter. She bent to grab the paper he’d tossed from the roof. Unfolding it she noticed that he’d penned a message to her, “you only live once!” followed by a smiley face. She grumbled and shook her head before escaping Jones’s laugh and retreating to the quiet of her dorm.
The following morning, the wind had picked up, tossing Emma’s hair into her face as she made her way to the campus bulletin board.
Jones’s teasing had given her just the push she needed. She’d been toying with the idea of making the trip across the country over winter break. Now, instead of just thinking about it, she was taking action and looking for a way to make it happen.
It was chilly, the tips of her ears burned and she dug her hands deeper into her coat pockets. The posters and cards rustled together and she had to pull her hand out to smooth down the postings to read them. She scanned through the scraps of paper advertising used books, pleas for a drummer, and desperate roommate searches. Finally her eyes picked out a promising post in the ride section. She ripped the fluttering e-mail off the bottom of the sheet and scanned the barely legible information before she shoved it into her pocket. She turned and rushed across campus to avoid being late to her final class.
Emma settled into her seat at the front of the class and dug the slip of paper with the rideshare e-mail out of her pocket. She crafted a brief message on her phone, looked it over twice before sending it. A shared carpool wasn’t her first choice of transportation out west, but with last minute planning she didn’t have much in the way of options. There was no way her old VW was going to survive a cross country trek. With no family to speak of, Emma figured an escape from the cold of the east coast would do her some good. A long distance relationship with Neal hadn’t been optimal, but at least it gave her a destination for winter break. She tucked her phone into her coat pocket and flipped open her notebook.
The professor slowly paced back and forth at the front of the classroom. His grey hair and tweed blazer cultivating the perfect image of a man who spent most of his time lost in the corridors of the university library. The light flashed on his glasses as he spun back towards the board and lifted his chalk to write instructions.
“Let’s begin. I’d like you all to…”
The door to the room burst open and a late student rushed in, hand raised apologetically. Emma recognized him from their failed tutoring session.
“Jones, nice of you to join us,” the teacher admonished sarcastically, his gaze sharp.
Killian tossed his backpack to the floor and slid into the desk next to Emma’s at the front of the class.
“Sorry...” he mumbled to the English professor as he rooted around in his backpack, searching for something to write with. He pulled out a crumpled piece of notebook paper and flattened it on the surface of his desk.
Emma glared at Jones for his rudeness and shook her head in disbelief. Was this guy ever prepared for class? He breezed in with no consideration for the professor or the other students.
He gave her a lopsided smile, and she shook her head before casting her eyes back down at her paper. She refused to acknowledge the fact that he looked adorably rumpled.
“As I was saying…” the professor continued, “I’m sure you’re all dreaming of vacation already, so I’d like you to do something over break that will inspire you for this writing assignment.” He paused, facing the class before exclaiming enthusiastically, “Life is the ultimate experience!” His gaze scanned the students before settling on Emma. She scribbled away as he laid out their task. When he paused she glanced up, pen poised. “But you have to live it in order to write about it.”
She stared at the words she’d jotted across the page. She’d lived plenty already. She frowned at her note from the last assignment. Jones had pointed it out last night in the library. Not enough of you . No one needed to be apprised of yet another ‘orphan breaks out of the system to go on to success’ story. She put her pen down as the professor gave her a pointed look and turned back towards his briefcase on his desk. “8 page essay on what you do over vacation due on your return.” The class gave a collective groan.
“You sure take a lot of notes,” Killian whispered, raising his eyebrow at her page. She glared at him and dragged her notebook to the other side of her desk to shield her paper with her arm.
“Live a little, write about it. Class dismissed.”
She heaved a sigh of relief and packed her notebook away. It was time to start preparing for vacation. She’d find some way to have an adventure and write about it.
This spontaneous ridesharing seemed like the perfect way to kick off her adventure. It had been months since she’d seen Neal. Late night Skype sessions, texts, and e-mails helped keep her up to date on what he was doing, but seeing him in person was going to be a nice Christmas present to herself. She only had tonight to pack before catching her ride in the morning.
She dragged her suitcase toward the curb while simultaneously checking her e-mail to confirm she was at the right place at the right time. Communication with her ride had been brief and rushed (her own fault for waiting till the last minute). Heck she didn’t even know who she’d be sharing driving duties with. Just the brief text she’d received:
Glad to share the trip. Leaving at 7am tomorrow in front of Smith Hall. Blue Volvo.
Right on time, her cross-country ride pulled up along the curb. It was a battered looking wagon that had seen better days, but Emma didn’t care as long as she made it to the west coast by Christmas Eve.
Killian slammed the hatch down after he tossed in his duffle bag. He was beyond ready to kick off winter break. The cool wind ruffled his hair and he briefly regretted not wearing his favorite hoodie, but it wouldn’t matter because soon he’d be in sunny California. It was a trip he’d always meant to take with his brother. A couple of weeks crashing at Robin and Will’s place to start and then maybe a trek north into wine country. He had no set plan, just flying by the seat of his pants. Life was too short to miss out on. He glanced at his phone again. For once he was on time. He stuck the phone in his pocket and slid behind the wheel.
The car sputtered to life and Killian gnawed on his lip, wondering if this jalopy would survive the trip across the country.
“Hurry up, Granny!” Jefferson griped from the front seat.
“Don’t rush me! You’re the one that’s to blame for me scrambling to find another co-pilot for the trip.”
“Sorry, but matters of the heart only have me riding as far as Illinois,” Jeff grinned.
Killian slammed the car into gear and headed across campus to pick up his final passenger. “You were the one that was supposed to find me more people to split the cost. Now I’m stuck with God knows who after you decided to ditch me.”
Killian was scowling out the windshield when he saw the blonde waiting in front of Smith Hall. The car slowed dramatically and he sunk lower in his seat, cursing under his breath.
“What?” Jefferson asked, his eyes perusing the reasonably attractive blonde at the curb.
He nodded at the figure waiting on the sidewalk, “She’s in my English class and I’m pretty certain she hates me.”
Jefferson rolled his eyes, “Well, we’ll just have to charm her and win over her affections,” he unsnapped his seatbelt and grinned, “before we’re out of Connecticut.”
Once they pulled up to the curb Jefferson jumped out to grab the suitcase for their new passenger.
“Hi,” he shook her hand and introduced himself, “Jefferson. Glad you could make the trek with us.”
She eyed the dented back door, but managed to pry it open and slip into the backseat. As she settled in and buckled up, Killian could see her eyes widen as she noticed him. Jefferson bounced back into the front seat.
“You know Killian, right?” he grinned.
“Y-y-you!” she stammered.
“Swan,” he slowly turned his head to give her a slight grin.
Emma shook her head and muttered, “What the hell,” before she slumped back in the seat, looking less than thrilled. “Can we get going?”
He caught her eye in the rearview mirror before they lurched away from the curb. This vacation was already starting off on a sour note. He could practically feel the glare from Emma boring into the back of his skull. He tried to ignore the awkward silence from his passengers and gracefully steered his vehicle onto the highway headed west.
Jefferson pulled a battered road atlas out from beneath the front seat and flipped open to squint at the map. It was a veiled attempt to break the tension in the vehicle, but it didn’t seem to be doing much good.
“Use my phone to navigate, Magellan,” Killian grumbled as he shifted slightly to grab his phone out of his jeans pocket and toss it towards him.
Jefferson juggled the phone before dropping it into his lap. He scooped it up and typed in his address before he slumped back, grinning.
“Fifteen hours till I’m home.” He looked back at Emma.
“You’re not going the whole way?” she asked. Killian could hear the trepidation in her voice.
“Alas no Swan, it’ll just be you and I from the Midwest to the coast,” Killian replied softly, breaking the news. He wasn’t sure what reaction Emma would have, so he kept his eyes on the road and hoped that he’d be able to at least keep her from killing him.
Jefferson leaped behind the wheel after Killian’s five hour turn driving. They’d made a quick pit stop for fuel and snacks. Wandering the aisles of the Gas and Go, Killian had grabbed some trail mix and a bag of Pirate Booty, Emma drifted towards some sketchy looking fresh fruit, while Jefferson had eyed the six packs of beer. Killian had frowned at him and shook his head no when he’d raised an eyebrow in askance.
“Bad form, you can wait a few more hours before you celebrate winter break,” Killian scolded.
Emma looked surprised at him nixing the beer purchase. She obviously didn’t think he’d keep to any sort of “good form.” They gathered at the cash register where the bored looking attendant rang them up. Jefferson had offered to pay for his leg of the trip since he wouldn’t be with them the whole way. Killian scooped up the bag before Emma had a chance to and gallantly held the door for her as they headed back to the car.
Back on the road, Jefferson took over driving duties and Killian reclined in the back with his legs stretched across the seat. Emma grabbed the edge of the dashboard, apparently anxious with Jefferson’s wild driving style. He was the complete opposite of Killian, weaving in and out of traffic with a penchant for accelerating to speeds that made everyone else in the car uncomfortable. They’d agreed to do five hour shifts to get to the Chicago area.
“So Emma,” Jefferson asked, “what’s out west for you? Family?”
“I’m going to surprise my boyfriend.”
Killian snorted from the backseat. “He doesn’t know you’re coming?” He noted the blush creeping up her face. “You really think that’s a good idea?” He couldn’t help but needle Emma Swan.
“I don’t see why it’s any of your concern,” she snapped, rolling her eyes. He smirked at her and settled back to return to his nap.
Emma ignored the stab of disquiet she felt when Killian pointed out what she’d already been second guessing herself on. This spur of the moment decision to catch a ride was very unlike her. There’s no way Neal would be expecting her to do something so spontaneous. What if Neal wasn’t happy to see her? The doubt gnawed away as she thought about how reluctant he’d been to offer solutions for her traveling out to see him, or him coming east for visits all semester. But he had to miss her right? Why wouldn’t he be pleased to see her?
She closed her eyes, exhausted, if she could just manage to catch a bit of rest, she might survive Jefferson’s turn behind the wheel in blissful ignorance of his reckless driving.
The jolt of the car as it stopped roused her from her nap. She looked out the window blearily, trying to figure out where they were. From the line of cars in the lot and the building off to the left she gathered it was a rest stop. There were a bevy of families walking dogs and allowing children to run around the highway rest area. They got out, stretched, and shuffled their seats in the car for the next stretch of the journey. The fresh air helped blow some of the cobwebs from her head and she cracked her knuckles before heading to the driver's side of the car.
Emma slid behind the wheel, while Killian slouched in the passenger seat next to her. Jefferson bounded into the backseat and occupied himself with a book. A sense of calm at being in control allowed her to relax. The car rumbled to life when she turned the key, and she piloted their way back onto the highway. It only took her a few minutes to get familiar with the feel of a different vehicle. The old Volvo seemed to have similar quirks to her Bug. She felt some of the tension drain away from where her fingers had tightly gripped the wheel.
She glanced over at Killian as he dozed. Once they dropped Jefferson off with his family, she’d be stuck for the remainder of the trip alone with Killian Jones. She snapped her eyes back to the road and tried not to be distracted by his long tapered fingers curled in his lap. By the end of her turn driving, they’d be almost 15 hours on the road. It was a good thing that he was resting now. He was much easier to take when he was sleeping and not bickering with her over what music to listen to.
Emma slowed the car as they turned onto a maple lined street the GPS had alerted her to take. Jefferson had given her perfect directions as they’d approached the suburb of Chicago. It was well past dark now. Five hours was a long stretch to drive. Dropping off Jefferson was giving them the perfect time for a break.
Jefferson cheerfully introduced his parents to his fellow students, explaining how they’d managed to make excellent time sharing the driving. Emma bit her tongue to keep from grumbling about him breaking the land speed record. Killian smirked at her as they were ushered into the house, a knowing look passing between them. It was a miracle they hadn’t been pulled over for speeding.
Smells of food kept warm greeted them when Jefferson led them into the kitchen. His mother had heated up a chicken pot pie and apple crisp for the travelers. After they inhaled the late supper Emma wandered down the hallway toward the bathroom.
She lingered, gazing at the rows of family pictures that lined the wall. Emma had to admit it was nice to see the welcome and love Jefferson got when he’d burst through the front door. She glanced down the hall where Killian rounded the corner and stopped abruptly when he saw her. He took in her perusal of the family photos and raised an eyebrow at her.
“Holidays are always the worst don’t you think?” he said drily. She caught his eye and recognized a similar flash of envy in his own expression.
Kindred spirit or not, she wasn’t about to let him in. She chose to remain silent.
“Get that bathroom break in, we should hit the road soon. We don’t want to be stuck in the middle of Iowa before we find a place to stop for the night.” He turned and made his way back to the kitchen.
Once they said their goodbyes, a care package of chocolate chip cookies tucked beneath Killian’s arm, he and Emma hit the road. A quick swing through the Dunkin’s drive thru to grab coffees and they were on their way.