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Quite a few things fall within the top ten category of Annoyances in Emma Swan’s Life (trademark pending).
There’s the day to day stuff that barely scratches the top fifty. The skips that make her break a heel at least once a month fall into the top twenty-five.
Having no say whatsoever in chaperoning Henry’s eighth grade field trip to New York City? Well, that would be a top fifteen situation, if it weren’t for the fact that she managed to get out of work for this and spend some much needed quality time with her son.
Finding out she’s sharing a room with another chaperone? That’s definitely a top fifteen situation, because the last time Emma shared a room with anyone it was with her cousin, Anna, and she quickly found out that the girl was just as talkative asleep as she was awake.
Finding out she’s sharing a room with Mr. Killian Jones, Henry’s science teacher and cough guy Emma slept with exactly ten months ago and quickly put a stop to things because she so does not sleep with her son’s teachers? That quickly falls into a top ten situation.
Opening the door to see they’ve been crammed in the most economical size room - one double bed, one desk, one dresser with a television from the stone ages (or at least back when Henry was born) and one arm chair all fit perfectly like a Sims room, with just enough floor space for two people to walk single file?
Yeah, now she’s definitely tapped into the top five.
“There’s no use,” he says when Emma picks up the phone to call the front desk. “This is their last room, remember? There’s a conference nearby and our children snagged a good portion of the double rooms.”
She narrows her eyes at him. “They just say that to make you feel special. Like you’re the one-hundredth caller and you won something.”
“Be my guest, then, Swan.”
She ignores the chill that crawls up her spine at that name, because she’s always been Miss Swan everywhere else.
(Except for that one night. God, it’s been ten months and that one night has haunted her like the best and worst dream yet.)
She also ignores the smirk that appears on his face, hands folded in his lap, as the front desk confirms what he said. They’ve booked up the last room. They just assumed—since the other chaperones were Avery’s parents and had insisted on a single, double bed so as to not occupy a needed bed—that the same applied to them.
“Come on, love,” he says, getting up from the chair to grab his bag. “It’s only a weekend. Sharing a room won’t be that bad.”
It’s not the room she’s worried about. It’s the bed.
She puts on a smile either way and heads for her bag, unzipping it on the floor to grab her things for the night. Just a weekend , she reminds herself. Then Henry’s off to high school and she never has to bump into Killian Jones again.
-
(She’s off to a bumpy start, however, when she steps out of the shower and realizes she only packed her shorts and tank top as pajamas. She only takes two steps out of the bathroom before Killian catches sight of her, halfway to the bed.
“Shower’s all yours,” she says.
The tips of his ears are pink and he’s looking down between them, and it’s only when she crosses her arms over her chest that she picks up on the fact that she’s not wearing a bra—and this air conditioning is doing wonders for such a small space.
“I-thank you,” he quickly says. He turns to one of the drawers and grabs something before disappearing off into the bathroom.
Curiosity gets the best of her, so she walks to the drawers. They’re here for a weekend and he’s packed everything away—even going as far as leaving half of each drawer for her disposal.
Stupid, blue-eyed, overly organized science teacher, packing things away for a weekend trip.
She trips on her suitcase on the way back to bed and in a huff, throws everything into the open spaces, folding be damned.)
-
She almost falls off the bed in the middle of the night, only stopped by his arm around her pulling her back toward the center.
“I’ll sleep on the floor if it’s uncomfortable for you, Swan.”
She shakes her head in the darkness, too aware of his arm still around her. It feels different than what she remembers from ten months ago, probably because then they had gone to bed and done the deed with his brace still on.
“No, that’s okay. We’re adults here, right?”
Her hand reaches down to the arm around her, fingers only brushing along the marred skin briefly before he abruptly pulls away.
“I’m sorry,” she quickly apologizes. “I didn’t mean to—”
But the sound of hair brushing against fabric greets her as he shakes his head (she thinks).
“It’s, um, it’s all right. It’s just…been a while since anybody…since I’ve…”
“It’s okay.” She shifts onto her side, tucking her hand underneath her pillow. “It’s been a while since I’ve shared a bed with someone, too.”
There’s a joke about kicking people out of bed lingering on the tip of his tongue, but he’s far too afraid it’d hit too close to home.
-
(They wake up a mess of tangled limbs the following morning, jolting apart only when Henry’s knocking turns incessant.
He forgot to charge his phone the previous night and Emma didn’t set an alarm.
“Quite the pair we make, Swan.”
A retort hangs on the tip of her tongue but the wetness on her cheek takes precedence.
“Sorry about that,” she says, wiping the drool off her face as she motions to his shirt.
“It’s all right. I packed a spare.”
He didn’t, but she doesn’t need to know that.)
-
Their main destination of the day is the American Museum of Natural History. They work their way through the museum, engrossed in the fossils and dinosaurs and other exhibits of wildlife the museum has to offer.
She doesn’t notice Killian’s eyes lighting up until they reach the Big Bang Theatre, all filing in to the sphere to watch the small show.
She walks side by side with him, engrossed in his explanations as he leads a small group (most of those part of his astronomy club) down the Cosmic Pathway.
He grabs her hand once they reach the bottom, leading her to each planetary station to calculate her weight.
“Now here,” she says, pointing down to the scale on Mars. “I’d definitely want to live here.”
“Not even the Manhunter would want to live there, Swan.”
“Well yeah, I wouldn’t want to live in the same place where my family was killed and I was tortured. Would you?”
He raises a brow at that. “You—”
She shrugs at that.
(She definitely won’t tell him about the time she almost caved at Henry’s insistence they invite Mr. Jones over for Monday TV night because, “Mom, he loves Supergirl, too!”)
“Come along, Swan,” he says, offering her his arm. “I believe we have a planetarium show to take these rascals off to.”
Emma rolls her eyes but takes his hand anyway, trying—and failing—to keep the smile off her face.
And, well, if she finds herself having fun, that’s not such a bad thing, is it?
-
(”You’re not wearing a shirt,” she says, blanket pulled up to her chin as she observes him out of the bathroom.
“You know, I normally give my students a gold star for being that observant.”
She rolls her eyes.
“It seems I’ve forgotten to pack a spare sleeping shirt. Will that be a problem? I can always—” He turns to look back at his worn button down from earlier.
“No,” Emma says quickly. “It’s…it’s fine. Just come to bed.”
“As you wish.”
She doesn’t realize how bad it really is when she wakes up in the middle of the night with her chest pressed to his and her head tucked against his neck. She makes only the slightest effort to move before his arm tightens around her.
It’s a lost cause anyway.
They’ll just pretend it didn’t happen come morning.)
-
Not talking about it does not mean pretending it didn’t happen. Not talking about it does make it easier to ignore the fact that their last day in the city felt like a date.
Stroll through Central Park? Check.
Visit the zoo? Check.
Walk through Times Square before a show? Check.
Stop at one of those amazing halal trucks for food, sharing a plate instead of getting one of your own so that you don’t spoil dinner? Check, check, god dammit, stop with the checks!
She doesn’t even realize it’s happening until they’re at the top of the Empire State Building and Avery’s mom’s cornered Emma on the Pepsi Cola sign side.
“You know, with the way Henry talks about Mr. Jones all the time, I had a feeling you two were together,” the woman says. “Some of the PTA moms and I had our suspicions, what with him always politely declining Kathy’s offers to go out, but this explains it.”
Emma glances down at Killian who seems to be hellbent on fishing out a quarter from his pocket to help Henry look through the binoculars and can’t help but bite her lip at the sight.
“Wait, me and Killian?” She motions between the two of them. “You all thought the reason why he wouldn’t go out with… Kathy is because he and I were secretly dating?”
Avery’s mom’s eyes light up at she nods.
Emma just groans and starts gathering everyone for their dinner reservations, reminding herself that even if she could, it’d be frowned upon to throw someone over the top of the Empire State Building.
Even though she wants to. She really, really wants to.
-
(She avoids him all throughout dinner.
She avoids him on their way back to the hotel room.
She even avoids him in the shower—for obvious reasons, of course.)
-
Avoiding doesn’t work so well when they’re leaving in the morning and she’s packing everything back into her bag, in the hotel room with not enough space to be moving at the same time but they are because she needs to keep busy somehow.
It’s not until she bumps into him a third time that night that she turns to him, arms crossed in front of her chest.
“Why didn’t you ever go out with Kathy?” she asks.
She figures she must be a sight right now, hair up in a messy bun, make up scrubbed off for the day, mismatched pajamas because they would help with the hotel heat all the while bringing up another random person into a random conversation.
“I’m sorry?” he says. “I, uh, I don’t think I follow, love.”
“Avery’s mom told me about how she had asked you out and you, what was the word she used? ‘Politely declined’ her offer. Why?”
He furrows his brows. “Why does it matter?”
“Because!” she exclaims. “She and all the other PTA moms thought you were ‘politely declining’ her offer because there was something going on between us.”
The small uptick of his lips has her simmering even more than before. She can see the way his eyes begin to light up, as if he’s proud they all thought there was something between them.
Granted, they weren’t wrong. There was something between them. A one-time thing . A never going to happen again thing because you’re Henry’s Favorite Teacher Ever (trademark pending) and I’m Henry’s Mom .
“They weren’t wrong, Swan,” he says, all calm and cool, aggravatingly so. “There was something between us.”
“Once.” She holds up a finger to emphasize her point. “Not an ongoing thing.”
“Quite right at that,” he agrees. “I seem to recall us having an amazing night together, waking up with you in my arms as you promised to call, seeing you at Open House and then never hearing from you again.”
Now it’s her turn to furrow her brows, arms going from crossed over her chest to hugging her sides. “I have a thing.” Her voice comes out softer than she intended.
“A thing?” He raises a brow.
“Yes, a thing, okay?” She sighs, taking a step back from him. “I don’t date my son’s teachers. I don’t stay the night, either and I woke up that morning trying to convince myself that one broken rule wouldn’t be bad. Then the Open House happened and Mr. Jones was there and what do you know it’s Killian—”
“I see.” Killian nods then goes silent.
He glances over at something behind her. She turns her head to follow his line of sight, spotting the clock on the wall. She really did have to hand it to this place. Talk about space saving.
“Killian?” She turns back to face him. “Hello? Earth to Killian! We’re having a conversation here.”
“I’m well aware of that, Swan.”
“But?”
“But in precisely one minute, I will no longer be your son’s teacher. So if we could quite possibly postpone this discussion until then, I’d—”
She reaches forward then, grabbing onto the opened collar of his shirt to bring his lips to hers. They’re just as warm as she remembers them to be, just as inviting. Her body ends up flush against his, their thin layers of clothing being the only things separating them as they pull away for air, foreheads and noses touching
“Is this the part where you say rules are meant to be broken?” he asks, still panting.
She shakes her head. “That clock’s five minutes too slow. I just thought I’d save you the trouble.”
“Noted,” he grins.
She pulls him back in for more.
-
(And maybe, just maybe, sharing a room with Killian Jones isn’t so high on that list of annoyances after all.)
-
“Hey!” Henry catches up with Avery before they’re set to go, already off the bus.
Emma stands by her yellow bug, motioning to Henry that they need to be on their way, as Killian makes his way toward her.
The minute she signaled to her son might as well be ten as she laughs at something Killian says before they’re both leaning against the bug to watch him.
Henry holds up his hand briefly before he reaches Avery.
“Tell your mom I said thanks, for switching rooms with my mom and Mr. Jones. It all worked according to plan.”