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Killian sat in his captains quarters staring out to sea, watching the waves as the sun set. It was a sight he’d seen thousands of times before, from every possible angle, and yet still remained the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on.
Or it least it used to be.
Until an infuriatingly beautiful, frustratingly clever woman walked into his life and turned it upside down. He was Captain Hook, scourge of the seven seas, lusting for nothing than to avenge his love, and here he was, having just narrowly returned from a land he’d sworn never to step foot in again, with the man he’d swore vengeance against having been his passenger. He lived every second and yet even he could scarcely believe it was true. And yet he didn’t care. He’d found something new, something worth fighting for.
Which is why as he sat staring now, he couldn’t quite wrap his head around why he’d told Neal he’d back off. He’d meant every word, as he sat and watched Emma with Henry, he began to believe he truly was the interloper in something more sacred than he deserved. And having been the one to break up Baelfires family in the first place…
Well, he wasn’t sure he could live with himself if Henry began to resent him the same way.
So he’d be true to his word, keep his distance for a while. Try to support her and her family as much as he could. Prove that he was still trustworthy and reliable while keeping said respectful distance and Hope Emma sees him, not for the man he’d been but the man he wanted to be.
His brought his flask up to his lips, taking a slow sip, savoring the familiar sweet burn, belatedly musing that if he were to stay here he’d need to find a new rum supply as he’d almost depleted what supply he’d brought with him. He idly worried that perhaps this world’s brand of rum wouldn’t be quite as good as he’d found back home. Decades of travel had the tendency to refine one’s taste.
His musings were interrupted by the familiar sound of someone’s footsteps on the deck, something he had not expected tonight. Their foe had been vanquished, this quest complete, he could only surmise whoever was calling at this hour had less than honorable intentions. He grabbed his sword from where he’d laid it previously, listening as the footsteps drew nearer to the hatch leading to his quarters, then stopped right above, almost hesitating? As if they were possibly reconsidering confronting a pirate on his own ship.
But then he heard a gentle knocking on the hatch, and the faint sound of a feminine voice calling out
“Hook? Are you here?” An involuntary grin spread across his face as he recognized it to be the woman he’d just been musing about. He set his sword aside and made to pull himself up.
“Swan? Is that you?” The hatch swung open as she hastily made her way down the ladder, glass bottle of something dark in one of her hands. His smile grew wider when she turned and looked him up and down. He was in his regular sleepwear, which she’d not had reason to see him in before, a simple black pair of linen drawstring pants and one of his billowy pirate shirts entirely unbuttoned.
She was clearly taken aback and he almost made a quip about her seeing something she liked, before he remembered his promise to back off.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked.
“I brought rum. Just wanted…someone to drink with, I guess.” He noticed then the flush in her cheeks and the top fourth of the bottle already missing. He took it from her gingerly, gesturing for her to sit at the table and grabbing two glasses.
“Kraken spiced rum?” He asked examining the label.
“I don’t know much about rum to be honest. That one at least seemed appropriate.” She smiled at him as he poured two glasses, settling in the seat beside her and sniffing the glass, gingerly taking a sip. It wasn’t the worst rum he’d ever had, but it certainly wasn’t one he’d ask for again.
“By spice do they only mean vanilla? We need to work on your palette, love, we can’t have you drinking this swill.” She knocked back the whole glass before reaching for the bottle and pouring a double.
“It was cheap and I didn’t care tonight.”
“Something on your mind?” He asked quietly, sensing that perhaps there was something more than drink that brought her to him tonight.
“I dunno. Everything I guess? Neverland, Peter Pan, all that is real. And Neal is back. And my parents are…my parents?” She took a sip, smaller this time, before setting the glass down on the table and meeting his eyes. “How come I’m surrounded by people who claim to care about me and yet you’re the only one who I fully believe?” He grabbed his glass and took another sip, wincing at the taste as he did, just for an excuse to break eye contact. He looked down into the liquid before answering.
“I do mean it, love.” He cleared his throat, forcing his eyes back to hers. “But I’m certain the others do as well.”
“Yeah, it’s just they all come with some sort of preconceived idea of who I’m supposed to be. In neverland my parents gave me these looks every time I talked about being lost, or growing up alone, like they were devastated about it. But also like they needed to apologize and explain themselves every time,. And they don’t, I get it now, it just doesn’t erase the past. I know it’s not what they meant to do but it just made me feel guilty every time like it was my fault for having had that childhood. But Mary Margaret was the first friend id made in a very long time and sometimes I miss being able to talk as friends and just have her hear me instead of looking at me with this expectation of being her daughter, the savior.” She drained the glass again, slamming it down. He preemptively unscrewed the bottled and handed it to her. She gave him a small smile and nod, pouring another drink and not bothering to recap it this time.
“They mean well, your parents, but I’m sorry that made you lose your friend. Is her confession in the echo caves what brought this on?” He asked.
“No, see that’s the thing. That almost helped. I mean sure I’m a little…wistful I guess? I wish I had them to experience all those things with too, but the thing is it’s just not the reality, and if anything I want that for them, because maybe it’ll help them accept where we are now. I just want to be seen, to be treated like me.” She took a moment to remove her red leather jacket, revealing a simple sleeveless top not unlike the one she’d been wearing on their adventure in neverland, despite the chill in the air. A testament to just how warm she must be feeling from the rum. He drained his glass, determined to at least try and catch up with her, even just to prevent her getting alcohol poisoning.
“ And my parents seem to think that I need to be with Neal. Like when I told Mary Margaret about kissing you, she almost immediately dismissed me, like ‘Neal will understand,’ but I didn’t really care what he thought, I just wanted to talk about a guy with my friend. But I can’t do that anymore because despite me being 28 by the time we met, she’s now my mom first.” He tried to think of something reassuring to say, but she continued before he could even try. “Speaking of which, Neal can’t seem to get the hint either.” She said, clearly avoiding his gaze now. He paused, nervous he’d somehow made her life worse for having encouraged the other man to give it a shot.
“How so, love?”
“He wants me to meet him for lunch tomorrow, claims it’s no pressure, no big deal, whatever. But the things he’s said to me since we found him in New York. It’s like he’s expecting that naive little 16 year old girl he abandoned to come back and fawn after him. I didn’t have anyone or anywhere to go back then so it was easy to just fall in with him, and I thought he was so wise and knew so much more than I did so I hung on every word he said. And I’m not a child anymore and yet he speaks down to me like I should be. I mean, you’ve never once questioned my thing with lying, and sure maybe it’s childish to call it a ‘superpower,’ but he just completely dismissed me and said he never believed me about that. He was smug about having this fiancé that I didn’t trust, like I really was just his jealous ex who he needed to put in her place, only for her to shoot him and send him through a portal for dead. And you know what I think is even worse? He hasn’t mentioned her at all once since then. No apology or ‘I should’ve listened,’ or even any sort of grief for having been betrayed by a fiancée. After all that lording her over me, it’s like she never existed and he’s still expecting me to just bow to his whim just because I told him I’d always loved him.”
Hook had been getting his hopes up through her tirade, but her last few words gave him pause. “Was that your secret? In the caves?” Her eyes snapped back up to meet his.
“Not exactly.”
“What then?” She took a small sip, clearly stalling a bit.
“I told him I was hoping he was dead because it would’ve made my life easier.” She whispered. “I’m not proud of it, but it’s the truth. And he then of course dismissed everything I had said to tousle with you over me.”
“I do apologize for my part in all that, love. It was bad form when we should’ve been focused on Henry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. I’m pretty sure you’re the only thing that kept me sane that whole time.” Her eyes met his again, and he could tell this was the sort of thing she’d never have admitted sober, and yet he couldn’t help his smile, an echo of which appeared on her face too.
“How so, if I may?” She set her glass down, meeting his gaze with an intensity he’d only witnessed once before, when she’d kissed him.
“Mary Margaret asked me why I kissed you, when I told her, and the only thing I could really think of was that I was feeling good. And there’s nothing else about that whole trip that made me feel good. I can’t get it out of my head.” She’d leaned closer to him as she’d spoken, and he could tell he’d involuntarily matched her. But as quickly as it had begun, she broke the spell, like she suddenly realized where she was and who she was with.
She topped up her glass before standing and making her way around the table to stand by the windows.
“You know this is the first time I’ve been down here. The view is stunning.” It took a moment for his brain to catch up with the sudden change. He stood as well, stepping a tad closer but keeping much of the distance she’d put between them.
“Aye,” he said, taking in the view of the dying light outside illuminating her hair like magic, “the sea at sundown has always been my favorite sight. You’re welcome to join me here anytime, love.” She turned to meet his gaze, seemingly weighing her options. She drained her glass once again, before just grabbing the whole bottle and taking a sip.
“There’s something else I’ve been meaning to ask you.” She said, stepping closer again.
“Anything, Swan.”
“Did you truly mean it? If I had trusted you from the beginning. Let you join us instead of leaving you behind at the top of that beanstalk. Would you have stuck with us? Helped us instead of Cora?”
“Yes,” he breathed unhesitatingly, “by all accounts I shouldn’t have survived that particular partnership.”
“And once we got to Storybrooke?”
“I can’t guarantee whether I’d have still went after the dark one or not. Part of why I joined the Neverland expedition was because when I thought I’d succeeded, had finally sated my bloodlust, I felt just as empty as I had before, perhaps more so. I’d like to think you’d have already swayed me by then, but I fear it wouldn’t be the truth.”
She nodded, as if she already knew that was the answer. She probably did, with how well she’d been able to read him up to this point.
“For what it’s worth now, I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I wanted to.”
“I understand why you didn’t. I’m not exactly the trustworthy type.”
“That’s what I’m trying to say though, Killian. You are.” The sound of his name in her voice was almost as intoxicating as the bottle in her hand.
“Is that why you came to me tonight?” She took another swig, the bottle now just less than half full having been mostly drunk by her, before she set it back down on the table. Her eyes met his with that same intense look as before, one he was hoping was desire.
“Everyone else has these expectations of who they want me to be, who they think I should be, but you just want me as me. It’s not a feeling I’m familiar with. I guess I’m not really sure what exactly I want right now, besides just to be…me.”
“Aye, love, you’ll always have that here.” He breathed, and he watched in her eyes as whatever battle she’d been fighting with herself was lost, and she leaned forward, grabbed the open sides of his shirt, and pulled him to kiss her. She tasted overwhelmingly like that cheap rum, but it suddenly was the best thing he’d ever tasted in his life. It was frantic, similar to their first kiss, a challenge and a thank you wrapped in one, but last time he’d been unable to bring himself to touch her much, lest she take it wrong. This time he wanted to be a bit bolder, wrapping his hooked arm around her back and threading his fingers into her hair, pulling her tight against his bare chest. Her arms wound around his neck, turning his head slightly to deepen the kiss, even leaning up on her tiptoes a bit to access him better. It was more than he’d ever dared himself to hope for, especially so soon. He’d expected a drawn out chase before she’d be willing to kiss him again, and yet here she was, having come here seeking his company, expecting to get drunk with him, and he couldn’t quite believe this hadn’t been her end goal all along. She wanted to feel good, and she had already said he was the only thing that made her feel good.
She pulled back slightly, arms still around his neck, as she panted for air. Her eyes were darker than usual, the alcohol combined with her desire making for a dangerous combination. She turned them, walking herself backwards to hoist herself up onto his bed, keeping him close all the while, never breaking eye contact. Pulling him to stand between her legs and letting her hands drift down his chest.
“Emma,” he whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear and resting his forehead against hers. “There’s nothing in this or any world I’d want more. But you’re drunk, love, and I can’t in good conscience…” he trailed off, pleading with his eyes for her to go easy on him. He was truly scared she’d push and he would be too weak to say no again, or be frustrated with him and storm off, which in her current state could be dangerous. To his surprise she just nodded and looked down, sliding back to sit fully on his bed with her back against the wall, pulling him up to simply sit beside her.
“Told you you were trustworthy.” She chuckled slightly, and he sighed in relief.
“Was that just a test then?”
“No, I wouldn’t offer anything I didn’t want.”
“And you want…me?”
“Yeah, actually. I don’t know if you’ve seen yourself recently but you kinda look…unfair.”
“Unfair?” He teased.
“Like how am I supposed to focus when you’re around with your face and your hair and the too low shirts and those eyes.”
“You do know how to flatter a man, Swan.”
“Shut up, I know you know you’re attractive and I’m too drunk to put it into words.” He laughed then, and his heart melted further at the gentle smile she was giving him.
“Speaking of which, you’re welcome to stay here tonight, sleep it off. I can go to the crew’s quarters instead so you know I won’t try anything untoward.”
“I already know you won’t. I’m not kicking you out of your own bed.”
“Well I hesitate to let you go home on your own. I could walk you?”
“I’m not gonna subject you to David being protective over his drunk daughter being brought home by a pirate. I think I’d rather just sleep it off if you don’t mind. I can go to the crew’s quarters, unless…” she blinked happily at him, clearly prompting him.
“Unless, love?” He took the bait, putty in her hands.
“We both just stay here.” She smiled wider, leaning closer to him again.
“Are you just testing my resolve again?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, it’s just cold, and I haven’t felt this good in a long time, and I still have stuff I can complain about, and I don’t wanna leave your side, and I really wanna kiss you again.” She was by all accounts definitely drunk, and Hook felt both blessed and cursed by it. It was like those walls she kept between her and most others were completely down for him tonight, and he could imagine just how much fun could be had if they both were in a similar state, with a more sure understanding of where exactly they stood with one another. But alas, he’d have to just hope against hope that tonight had laid some sort of foundation for that in the near future.
“As you wish, I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.” She grinned at that, a smile he’d never seen before and suddenly desperately wanted to see again, when suddenly her lips were on his again. True to her word, she didn’t push any further than a simple kiss, keeping a small distance between them before busying herself with shucking off her boots. Killian stripped back the covers, laying down but keeping his back fully pressed against the wall, giving her as much space as he possibly could. All for naught, apparently, as when she laid down she fully laid herself against his chest, a brazen hand wrapping around his waist. He was sure she could hear his heart beating out of his chest, and was also sure the little chuckle she let out then was mocking him for it. He couldn’t quite bring himself to be offended.
“You said you had more to complain about, love?” He asked, desperate for a distraction. He felt her stiffen slightly, and worried perhaps he was prying about something she didn’t actually want to share.
“Did you happen to notice anything off about Henry?” She asked, pulling back to look at his face. He paused, thinking back.
“I confess I haven’t had much opportunity to get to know the boy as he is, much less enough to know if he were acting differently. What about him was wrong love? You think he might just be grappling with everything that had happened?”
“I don’t know what it is exactly. He didn’t seem to recognize his storybook when I handed it to him this afternoon. And then he asked to stay with Regina, so of course when I tried to point it out I was dismissed as just being jealous. There’s nothing I can do tonight. But I’m worried there’s something wrong.”
“I swear to you I’ll do whatever I can to help. Is that what mostly drove this desire to drink yourself into oblivion?”
“Everything else has been weighing on me too. I just also had no one who needed me tonight either.” At that, he wrapped his good arm around her waist, pulling her ever so slightly closer.
“I swear to you we’ll get to the bottom of it tomorrow, milove. For now though, you need to rest.” Her eyes were already closed when she nodded into his chest, the exhaustion of the last couple weeks plus the drink finally catching up to her. As he listened to her breaths even out, he let the feel of her against him lull him into a comfort he hadn’t experienced in decades. The lull of falling asleep tangled up with someone you loved.
——————
When she awoke the next morning, it took a moment to register her surroundings and remember exactly how she’d gotten here in the first place around the splitting headache and too bright morning sunlight streaming into the room. She blinked rapidly, doing her best to clear the hazy hangover fog and get used to the light levels. She realized with a start she was still in Captain Hook’s bed, having drunk herself into oblivion and thrown caution to the wind to climb into bed with a pirate.
A pirate who was too honorable to take advantage.
A pirate who seemed to have disappeared sometime in the night.
The realization she was alone was more crushing than she would’ve expected. Last night had been such a blessed escape from the insanity of her regular day to day, an outlet to vent that she’d desperately needed after spending weeks wound up with worry about her son.
And said pirate had not struck her as the type to disappear the morning after, with all his bravado and confidence in winning her heart, she was certain he’d have stuck around, especially with this being his bed on his ship.
She started to get up, pulling the covers off and trying to brave the brisk morning air when the hatch quietly swung open and Hook stepped down, drink carrier in hand and paper bag under an arm as he used his hook to steady himself down, remarkably quiet for how loud the ladder had seemed when she entered the day before.
“Morning love. Sorry, I was hoping to be back before you awoke.” He greeted, setting the drink carrier down on the table and carefully extracting a cup and handing it to her, Atop it two small red pills.
“Ruby swears to me the best hangover remedy in the realm were those small capsules, coffee and a sandwich of some sort.” He pulled an item out of the bag and handed that to her as well.
“You went out this early just to get me breakfast?” She asked, taking the pills with a gulp of the coffee and unwrapping what looked to be a simple egg and sausage breakfast sandwich. She really needed to stop being surprised by his thoughtfulness but so few people in her life had ever cared enough it was hard to accept.
“I couldn’t bloody well let you stumble home hungry and hungover, could I?” He was avoiding her gaze, busying himself with his own sandwich and coffee.
“Did uh…anyone else see you bringing two coffees down here?”
“If you’re asking if anyone suspects you spent the night with me, the answer should be no. I only spoke to Ruby at the diner and she didn’t ask any questions, nor did I volunteer anything.” He was still avoiding her gaze, and she suddenly felt guilty for even asking. Treating him like a dirty little secret to be hidden while he was trying to do something thoughtful for her.
At the same time though, she was nowhere near ready to even admit she might have an interest in him, much less the gossip that would spread like wildfire if she were caught having spent the night on his ship.
She finished her sandwich in silence, gingerly sipping her coffee and watching him dutifully avoid her gaze. He was expecting to be rejected this morning, she realized. Expecting her just to leave without a second glance now that she was sober and in the light of day.
It almost felt like a challenge.
“Thank you, Killian.” She said as she stood from the bed, setting her coffee down on the table and taking the seat next to him, ever so slightly moving it closer as she sat. His eyes snapped back up to hers at the sound of his name, with the same dumbstruck look on his face he’d given her last night when she had first used it.
“For everything.” She placed a hand on his knee briefly, and he quickly looked down at it before he looked back up at her, clearly trying to puzzle out exactly what she meant by that.
“It was my pleasure, Emma. Truly.” It occurred to her that her name said in his lilt was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever heard and maybe she understood the dumbstruck look more than she’d realized. She smiled at him, before standing to get her jacket and boots on. If she stayed any longer she was going to have a hard time leaving, and she had a feeling it was going to be a long day. Before she could quite start her way up the ladder, she was stopped by the cold feel of a hook around her arm and the warm sound of her name.
“Emma, wait.” He said, turning her to look at him, “did…did it mean anything?” He whispered, eyes pleading. All she could really do under his gaze was nod slightly.
“I just… I’m not ready to figure out exactly what. There’s too much…” His face fell slightly at that, and he moved to step back. She was chasing him before she fully realized, pulling his lips to hers and tangling her hands in his hair, trying to convey to him exactly what she just couldn’t say. His eyes were still closed as she pulled away, and she scurried up the ladder and pulled herself out before he had a chance to say anything else, too afraid of what might be.
————————
It felt like a goodbye. She kissed him like she meant it and then left without another word and it was somehow more devastating than if she’d just left without have done or said anything. She cared, just not enough. She was interested, just not as much as him. Somehow it hurt more than rejection.
He’d wanted to follow her, to beg and plead, to make his case, but she’d already made herself fairly clear this morning that she didn’t want anyone to know, he was her dirty little secret and he wouldn’t betray that even if he wanted to.
He busied himself with clearing the cabin of their breakfast, having had cleanliness near beaten into him in the royal navy it felt wrong to have his cabin in anything but shipshape, when he realized her half empty bottle of rum was left there on the table. He gingerly picked it up, pouring a very small amount into a glass and sipping it, suddenly feeling it may be the best rum he’d ever tasted because as far as he was concerned it tasted like her.
He stashed the bottle with his other special effects. Perhaps she’d want it on hand for next time, or at least he hoped beyond hope there would be a next time.
————————-
Killian sat in his captains quarters staring out to sea, listening to the distant shrill of seagulls and letting the lull of the waves calm his nerves. His windows were open, an attempt to stave off the humid heat of the tropical weather they’d been enduring. Nearly a year it had been since that last day, since he promised he’d think of her every day, since he watched her in her yellow monstrosity cross the town line. He’d kept his word, yet it felt almost more devastating each day knowing she had no recollection of him at all.
On the table before him was the lone bottle she’d brought with her that night, the taste of which he’d scoffed at alone yet craved on her lips. The bottle was slowly diminishing, he only allowed himself a taste every so often when he could hardly bear her absence, which unfortunately was more frequently than he’d like to admit.
But at least he had the bottle.
He’d never admit it to anyone, but that night, and that bottle, was the driving force behind his decision to abandon Ariel, let her try and find her prince herself.
In his darkest moments he resented her even requesting him abandon his ship for her in the first place. For him to freely give away the last thing he had that his love touched, to try and find her love who he was sure Blackbeard had already killed anyway.
When he’d gotten his ship back she’d been ransacked, most of his things looted and missing. But of course she was his ship, and his stash was well hidden, where his private effects lay. Where he’d hidden that bottle and felt the closest thing to happy he’d found since landing back in this cursed land.
It was a justification, he knew, and he knew Swan would be ashamed of him for it, but he’d never see her again. Disappointed he’d so easily abandoned whatever progress he’d made to bettering himself.
He didnt like thinking about it.
At least he had the bottle.
His musings were suddenly interrupted by a small bird fluttering through the open window, a curious purple bottle tied to its leg. He carefully removed it with a note, watching as the bird gracefully left, and quickly reading the letter he couldn’t help but grin at the words.
He was going to be able to find his Swan.
He stashed the bottle again.
——————————
So much had happened since he last stood on this deck and watched the sea, she’d been lost to him for too long, disrespected by the worst pirate captain he’d ever had the displeasure of crossing paths with. One of these days he’d like to interrogate the man on how he’d messed up so badly that his ship had been somehow bottled, but mercifully for now he’d no way or reason to ever cross that man’s path again. And he now had his beloved ship back, with the added bonus of having done so to help Ursula regain her voice. An unbelievable win win that he supposed was reward for having actually changed his ways this time.
The ship had been unbearably trashed when he first stepped aboard, though mercifully his stashed items throughout the ship including Ursula’s voice had remained intact, the rest of what had been his supplies, books, tools, and chests had been looted, broken, missing, or thrown haphazardly around. He cursed Blackbeard and his evidently slovenly crew for clearly being the reason he’d been accused on multiple occasions of being a “dirty pirate.”
He’d begun the work of cleaning his ship below deck in the crew quarters, working his way up to the captain’s quarters and the stern. Emma would be meeting him later to help out and she’d seemed excited to see the old girl again. He couldn’t help his own excitement as well, the last time she’d been aboard they’d been nearly nothing but a maybe to each other, and yet had spent a lovely night together. Now they were together, officially, publicly, together. No more dirty little secrets. And on top of that, and unfair lack of privacy with him staying in what was becoming a very crowded Granny’s bed and breakfast and her still staying with her parents, they’d had very little opportunity to be alone.
At least the buzzing nervous anticipation helped him clean, needing the outlet to calm his nerves.
She arrived later that evening, and he happily greeted her on deck. She did a happy little excited jog up the gangway, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him.
“I’ve cleared out the worst of what that fool did to my ship, but I could use and extra set of hands setting up my quarters if you wouldn’t mind love?”
“I’d love to. And I brought dinner.” She said excitedly, lifting a bag she was carrying to prove it. He grinned at her, kissing her on the forehead and taking her by the hand to the hatch leading down to the captain’s quarters. He stepped down first, taking the bag from her to help her ease her way down. She looked around with a small frown.
“Blackbeard wasn’t much for homey decor, huh?” She asked, and he laughed.
“Oh I already cleared out the worst of it. Just fully replaced the mattress and bedding too. You don’t want to know.”
She shuddered at the thought. “What do you wanna start with?”
“Well, there’s one thing I haven’t checked yet that I wanted your help with love.” He sat on the floor at the foot of the bed and gestured for her to join him.
“Ok but maybe then dinner? I’m starving and I’ve been dying for a grilled cheese all day.”
“Of course, love: I just want to know if my things are still here.”
“You have a secret stash in your bedroom?” She laughed, sitting down next to him.
“Pirate,” he shrugged, before putting his hook through a small hole at the base of the bed and turning, the panel easily coming away.
“Like I thought, too much of a fool to find it.” Inside was a small chest, which he lifted and handed to her. Emma recognized a few of the things immediately. His drawing of Milah was there, the insignia from his brothers satchel, a sextant and a spyglass. A few rings and other jewelry she didn’t necessarily recognize but figured he’d tell her about in time.
And a very familiar bottle of very cheap rum.
“Why do you still have this? I thought you hated it.”
“I did, initially.” He scratched his neck awkwardly, suddenly not sure how to properly explain himself. He’d wanted her to see it of course but that night had been so bittersweet for him. “But that was the last time you’d willingly spent time with me.” He tried to cover it a bit with a chuckle. Her eyes met his with a wistful smile.
“That’s why you kept it?”
“Aye, it helped get through that missing year.”
“I thought alcohol in general did that.”
“That one tasted like you.” Her eyes met his, as she gently set the chest with the bottle aside, pulling him down for a chaste kiss.
“Now you can taste the real thing whenever you want.” She promised, kissing him again.
“And I have something for you.” She pulled him to his feet and over to the bag on the table, pulling out the greasy bags of diner food and then a new bottle of a dark liquor.
“I asked around about rum from the enchanted forest compared to what I could get here, and I was told Jamaican rum, specifically this kind, was similar but better.” She also pulled out a new set of glass tumblers, the old ones undoubtedly long since broken and gone, pouring him one before pouring one for herself.
“Well?” She said, sipping her own glass. He sniffed his carefully before taking a measured sip, the gentle burn certainly not unlike what he was used to but somehow more complex and interesting. He closed his eyes to savor it a bit, reveling in how far he’d come with this woman, having gone from “whatever was cheap with a silly name” to “polling the masses to pick the perfect spirit.” He could hardly believe his luck.
“Killian?” He realized he hadn’t answered her, reopening his eyes and returning the small smile on her face.
“Divine, though I may need another taste,” he said, taking a quick sip from his glass as he watched her take one from hers, then setting both glasses aside and pulling her in for a kiss. It was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
“I might be able to toss that other bottle now,” he teased, resting his forehead against hers. “It’s perfect, Swan.”
She kissed him again, hands winding up into his hair, slowly gaining in heat.
“You know the other difference between tonight and that night,” she whispered against his lips, “is that you are currently wearing entirely too many layers.” She was already unbuttoning his vest and shirt, pushing everything down his shoulders and into a heap on the floor.
“I believe last time I was at least allowed to partially keep the shirt.”
“Yeah, well, last time we didn’t do anything but kiss, so unless you wanna keep to that…”
“Point taken.” He pushed her towards the bed, pulling her jacket off before sliding her shirt over her head, kissing her senseless, the task of tidying and organizing the small space all but forgotten, the bottle of cheap rum stashed safely away, unnecessary now he had her.