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They were a non-traditional couple in many ways. From what he understood most couples didn’t have a ‘Damsel in Distress’ board in the kitchen that tallied who had rescued who over the course of their relationship, (it was leaning in her favour at the moment, thanks to his habit of getting into trouble and her habit of rescuing herself), nor did they have a ‘How We Met’ story that involved a pile of heartless bodies and ogres, or a first date that happened under the looming shadow of a fifty foot wall of ice. The peculiarities of their relationship didn’t worry either of them, what outsiders might see as impossible strangeness they saw as the bonds that held them together.
Killian had taken over much of the so called woman’s work in their home. It made sense for him to do the majority of the cooking, (“We’d eat nothing but grilled cheese and onion rings if I left it to you, love.”) and he liked doing the laundry because the appliances of this realm made it so easy for a one handed man. Emma worked hard all day in her role as Sheriff and Saviour, so if he could lighten her burden by keeping their house shipshape what was wrong with that?
There was one task that he’d not thought about when he and Henry had picked out this house. In his defence never in his long life had he had to consider such a thing, which is why come Spring, he found himself standing on the porch wondering how to tackle the jungle that had sprung up in their yard.
His first port of call was David who unhelpfully suggested that he get some sheep. Killian didn’t take offense at his friend and soon to be father-in-law’s dismissive response. Young Neal had just started to crawl and was leading the prince on a merry dance by getting into all sorts of places that weren’t safe for a little one.
Anton had gone into enthusiastic detail about soil quality, compost, fertilisers and plant types. Killian had to admit his eyes had glazed over at some point and he’d made a polite excuse to leave before he offended the giant.
Regina had handed him a business card for the local landscaping company. In the Enchanted Forest they had been gardeners at her palace and must be good since they came with a glowing recommendation from Madam Mayor. He considered calling them, but decided to try this on his own first. He headed home wondering if he was being too proud about this. He had a vague notion that yard work was something done by the man of the house in this realm and he felt he should at least make an attempt. He found Henry sat on the porch next to a strange contraption.
“You forget your keys lad?”
“Nope, just didn’t want to drag this into the house.”
Killian waved his hook at the thingy; “And this would be?”
“A lawnmower. I borrowed it from Violet’s dad.”
“And why would he loan you a lawnmower?”
“Because I explained that I needed to help my step dad tidy up the yard.”
Killian gave him a knowing smile; “I assume this is the sort of behaviour that makes you look like a good prospect in the eyes of the knight?”
Henry grinned at him; “It doesn’t hurt. Plus I want the yard to look nice for Mom.”
“Right you are, lad. How do we achieve that end?”
There were a few rough moments. Disturbing the wasp nest hadn’t been fun although Henry had proved he had an Author’s grasp of colourful language, (“Please don’t use that in your Mothers’ hearing, they’re bound to blame me”). The entire frog population of Storybrooke had apparently decided to move into the overgrown yard and were less than pleased to be relocated, (carefully shooed out of harm’s way by Henry and occasionally with gentle prompting from the toe of Killian’s boot). By the late afternoon they were both grass stained, nursing a few stings and sweaty, but the yard looked presentable once more.
Emma came home to find the two of them asleep on the porch swing, Henry’s head resting on Killian’s shoulder, and a half empty bottle of soda dangling precariously from Killian’s hand. She snapped a few pictures before she woke them up and suggested a barbeque to celebrate the victory over the yard.