This Isn't Everything You Are (3/?)
Title: This Isn't Everything You Are
Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Pairing: Emma Swan/Killian Jones
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Prompt: In fairy tale land, Hook saves Emma from Cora, and in Storybrooke, Emma saves Hook from Rumple.
Spoilers: Through 2.06, Tallahassee
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.
Author's Note: Computer issues, blah, blah. Sorry this is so late! I hope you enjoy it anyway.
Chapter 3
Emma stared out at the ocean. She'd always wanted to live near the ocean. Granted, she'd pictured a place more closely associated with warmth and palm trees, but there was something to be said for the cool tempestuous nature of the northern Atlantic. At this moment, it was almost a direct reflection of the emotions swirling around her head.
She had kissed Captain Hook. Not just a brush of her lips against his skin either. No, it had been a full on open mouthed, tongue dueling, climb up into his lap kiss. She still had trouble believing it had actually happened, despite the way her lips still tingled. What was that? It was like nothing she had felt before. But even more importantly, Emma was disgusted and ashamed of herself. What was she thinking? Emma had absolutely no idea what had come over her.
Well, that wasn't quite true. Emma would had to have been blind not to recognize that he was attractive. Between the leather, the scruff, the smirk and those blue eyes, he was pretty much the epitome of male attractiveness. Clearly, it was pointless to deny to even herself that she was attracted to him. She was, end of story. But that didn't explain why she had practically tried to inhale him.
So what then? Was it simple gratitude for saving her life? That didn't make sense. Her mind went back to the look in his eyes when she asked him why he'd saved her. It said that he was just as blindsided by whatever was going on between them as she was. They barely knew each other for god's sake. And yet, he'd managed to see through her with ease. She felt so open, so exposed when he looked at her. It terrified her. How could she hide behind her walls when Killian made them non existent with one look?Emma knew nothing could come out of what she was feeling. He was a pirate, loyal to no one but himself. Besides, he had a mission to avenge someone he loved. How could she even begin to compete with that? No, it was better to just lock away her feelings until they inevitably went away.
Emma heard a plank in the dock creak behind her. Inwardly, she groaned. If there was ever a time she didn't want to be bothered by her newly found family, this was it. Reluctantly, she turned around.
“Look, I know you mean well, but I really would like to be alone right--” Emma closed her mouth abruptly when she set eyes on her visitor.
It was Killian.
A thousand things ran through her head. How did he find her? What in the hell was he wearing? And how did he mange to make a simple gray tee paired with those blasted leather pants look sexy? Most importantly, why had he come after her? She had to remind herself to breathe.
“That's a pity, Emma,” he replied. “And I don't think anyone has ever accused me of meaning well.”
“That I can believe,” Emma shot back, determined regain her composure. “What do you want, Hook?”
“Do you really need to ask that, darling?”
Emma frowned. “Yes, I do. And how did you even find me anyway?”
Killian smiled and Emma had to remind herself to breathe again. Stupid pirate. “You're not as unpredictable as you like to think, love,” he reminded her. “A sailor can always recognize a kindred soul. A few well placed queries and here I am.”
“But why?”
“Honestly, Emma, are we going to do this? We both know what's going on here. You kissed me, as I recall.”
Emma looked at the ground, sheepishly. So much for the ignoring the elephant in the room. Now that she was face to face with Killian, her plan of boxing away her conflicting emotions seemed less practical. But what choice did she have? There was no way in hell she was trusting him. And yet, she'd be lying to herself if she didn't find the effort he'd put in to find her endearing. She couldn't recall anyone ever doing that for her before.
Get a hold of yourself, Swan, she thought. He's just an untrustworthy pirate. Nothing more.
Resolve back in place, Emma looked Killian in the eye. Better to get this over with, like ripping off a band aid. “That was a mistake, Hook. I'm sorry if you thought there was more to it. It was a moment of weakness, nothing more.”
Killian fixed her with a stare. “It didn't feel like a mistake to me, Emma.”
“Well...it was.”
“Liar.”
Emma actually laughed. “Captain Hook calling me a liar? That's rich.”
But Emma was not prepared for the speed with which Killian closed the gap between them. He stopped centimeters from her face. She could feel his breath on her skin; she shivered unconsciously. “No, Emma Swan. Killian Jones is calling you a liar. You want play this game? Fine. You want to pretend that this,” he grabbed her left hand with his right and it felt like fire against her skin, “isn't happening? Fine. I'm a patient man, Emma. Remember that.”
With that, he turned and walked away. Emma remained rooted to the spot where she stood, staring at his retreating back. She was so screwed.
For the next few weeks, Emma avoided Killian as much as she could. This was made difficult by the fact that he was still staying in the apartment. Emma just didn't know what else to do with him. Her duty as sheriff wouldn't let her just turn him out onto an unsuspecting Storybrooke. In addition, every time she mentioned it to Mary Margaret, her mother would get that look and remind her that the infuriating pirate had saved her life. David tried to steer clear of any involvement, but he was civil to Killian whenever the two men happened to be in the same room. Henry was the least help though. The kid had taken a serious shine to the pirate, despite Emma's best efforts. How was Emma supposed to get rid of him if her own family was against her?
It was late afternoon at the sheriff's station; Emma was sorting though some paperwork. She'd been busier after her return from the Enchanted Forest. Now that all the townspeople remembered who they really were, old resentments flared up all over the place. Rarely a day went by that she didn't get a call about some incident. Quite a few of them involved Mr. Gold, to the surprise of no one. Knowing what she now did about him in addition to her first hand experiences made her more wary of him than ever. And she still owed him that favor. She couldn't fathom what he could need from her. Wasn't he supposed to be all powerful now or something? Whatever the favor was, Emma was certain it was nothing good. She'd just have to cross that bridge when she got to it, like she had everything else in her life.
Emma was stirred out of her thoughts by a rap on the glass of her office. For a terrifying second, Emma thought it would be Killian. He hadn't gone out of his way to antagonize her since that day at the dock, much to her surprise. She'd expected him to keep pushing her buttons just because he could. But Killian had respected her space, which just served to confuse the hell out of her.
Fortunately, her visitor was David. She smiled. “Hi, David.”
“Everything going alright?” he asked, his expression neutral. Suddenly, Emma had a bad feeling about this conversation. A very bad feeling.
“Sure,” she replied, trying to sound more assured than she felt.
“You haven't been home much, Emma. I'm worried about you.”
“Honestly, David, there's nothing to be worried about. I'm fine.”
“Emma,” David said, sternly. It was the first time he'd really used his father voice with her. It felt nice. But Emma knew she had to nip this line of inquiry in the bud. It would lead to nowhere good.
“David, I've taken care of myself my whole life. You really shouldn't worry. I am a grown up, you know.”
David crossed his arms and continued to stare her down. It struck her that it must be the same look she got when talking to Henry sometimes. “You may be an adult, Emma, but I am still your father. It's my prerogative to worry about you.”
Emma smiled. It really was striking how much she and David were alike. In her fantasies growing up, she'd always imagined herself as a daddy's girl. And now here she was playing it out in real time. Emma got up and went over to him. She put her hand on his crossed arms and squeezed.
“Really, David, I appreciate the concern. But this is something I need to work out myself.”
“Is it the pirate?” he asked. “Has he done something? Because I have my sword, still.”
Emma chuckled. The idea of David and Killian in a swordfight over her was both the most ridiculous and most endearing thing she'd ever heard of. In different circumstances, she'd almost want to see it. If Henry's book was accurate, the man in front of her was quite the swordsman.
“You should probably keep the sword sheathed, your highness,” she teased.
David half smiled. “I'm serious, Emma. Maybe not about the sword thing, but I am about the pirate. Something happened in the Enchanted Forest, didn't it?”
“You mean other than him saving my life? Absolutely not.” It was what had happened in Storybrooke that was the problem.
“Twice, Emma. Snow said he saved you twice.”
Emma winced. She kept forgetting that. Or rather trying to forget it. “Your point is?”
“He must have had a reason. Did he tell you why?”
Emma squirmed uncomfortably. “Sort of,” she said, finally.
“Well, what was it?”
Emma sighed. “He said it was the honorable thing to do,” she said, using air quotes around the word honorable.
David's reaction was completely unexpected. His eyes went wide with shock. “Are you sure?”
Emma's brow knitted in confusion. “Yeah. Listen, what's the big deal? Killian, sorry, Hook is a pirate. I don't think he even knows what the word honorable means.”
“I can't say I've met many pirates, Emma, but they do have a code. Maybe not the most morally upstanding code, but a code nonetheless.”
“That's what Hook said.” She paused. There was something David wasn't telling her, she could tell. “David, there's something else, isn't there?”
It was David's turn to look uncomfortable. “That is the exact same thing I said to Snow the first time I saved her life.”
“What?”
David smiled. “She'd stolen something precious from me. I captured her so I could get it back. We got attacked by some of Regina's soldiers. Snow got into a tough spot and I saved her. She returned the favor when she saved me from some trolls.”
Emma looked at her father in disbelief. “You guys met because she stole something from you?”
David nodded. At least now Emma knew where her own thieving ways had come from. “Emma, didn't you read Henry's book? It's all in there. Mostly.”
“I must have skipped that part,” Emma said, dryly. “What did she steal?”
“Oh, a pouch full of coins, a few precious stones. And my mother's ring.”
A light went on in Emma's head. “Is that the ring Mary Margaret wears?”
“The very same. Your grandmother said that true love followed that ring. And she was right.”
Emma scowled. “David, if you're insinuating what I think you're insinuating, stop. Just stop right there.”
“I'm not insinuating anything, Emma. You jumped to that conclusion all on your own. But it is an interesting coincidence.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “There is nothing going on between me and Hook.”
“Then why haven't you been home for more than a few minutes for the last three weeks?” David asked pointedly. Suddenly, they were back to why he'd come to talk to her in the first place.
“Fine,” Emma huffed. “Would you like me to spend some time at home? I can do that.” She hoped.
“I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with, Emma. But I know Snow misses you. And Henry.”
He was totally guilt tripping her, wasn't he? Her own father was guilt tripping her! Honestly, though, Emma missed them just as much. She'd just have to suck it up and deal. She could do that.
“OK, I'll be home in a little while. Just let me finish up a few things, alright?”
“I'll let your mother know.”
“Thanks.”
Just before he left, David poked his head though the doorway. “Oh and Emma?”
“Yeah?”
“I missed you too.”
Emma felt herself grinning. “Right back at you...Dad.”
Dinner that night went better than Emma expected. If you counted Killian charming the pants off her parents as better. David was nicer to the pirate than she could ever remember him being before. Seriously, did saving her life really carry that much weight? Emma was sensing a conspiracy. Rather than listen to all the chatter, Emma tried to talk to Henry, but that proved hopeless. Her loving son kept asking Killian about life on a pirate ship. It was maddening. What made it even worse was the way Killian kept looking at her when he thought no one but her was looking.
Eventually, Emma kicked him under the table. Childish, but effective. Killian must have decided he'd had enough, because he rose shortly after. “Another culinary masterpiece, your majesty,” Killian said. “Thank you.”
Mary Margaret smiled. “I'm glad you enjoyed it, Captain.”
Emma rolled her eyes. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.
“Now I really must turn in. I'll not keep you from Emma's sparkling company, which I fear is suffering due to my presence,” he grinned at Emma, knowingly.
“Night, Killian!” Henry said, as the pirate disappeared behind Emma's bedroom door.
Emma groaned. “I really wish you wouldn't encourage him, Henry.”
“But Emma--”
“Henry, he's a pirate. He can't be trusted.”
“But pirates have a code, Killian says.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Emma saw David smile. She ignored him. “I don't care what Killian says. Why can't you just trust me on this?”
“Henry's never been a boy who does what he's told, Emma,” Snow interjected. “You should know that better than anyone.”
Emma threw up her hands in frustration. Her whole family was against her apparently. Snow and David exchanged glances across the table.
“Henry,” David said, “how about we go over to the stables to check on your horse?”
“Sure!” Henry said. He reached out to hug Emma before they left. “He likes you, you know,” Henry whispered.
Emma rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Sure, kid. Have fun with David.”
Emma then decided to make herself useful and started clearing the table. Mary Margaret helped. They worked in silence for awhile, but Emma had a feeling it wouldn't last.
“Henry's right, you know. About Hook.”
“Oh god, not you too. How many times do I have to say it? There is - nor will there ever be - something going on between Killian and I.”
“Then why is he still here?” Mary Margaret asked.
“Because...because I don't know what to do with him! I can't just let him wander Storybrooke! He wants to kill Gold, remember?”
“But that's only half if it, Emma. If Hook really wanted to leave and go after Gold, he would. He's a resourceful man. And if you haven't noticed, you aren't exactly keeping him under lock and key.”
Emma blushed. That was true. She'd been so busy avoiding him that she hadn't bothered to make any arrangements so he couldn't leave. And yet he was still there. Why?
Emma put down the dish she was drying. “I don't know what he wants,” she said. Which was only a tiny lie.
“I think right now all he wants is a chance,” Mary Margaret said gently. “Look, Emma, I'm not saying you have to trust him. Your wariness is more than fair. But how can you know for certain if you don't take that chance?”
“I don't know how,” Emma said quietly. And it was true. She spent so much time protecting her heart that she didn't know how to use it.
Mary Margaret grasped her by the shoulders gently. “It's not a science, Emma. Just start slow. Spend some time with him instead of avoiding him like the plague.”
“That obvious, huh?”
“Yeah,” Mary Margaret replied, smiling.
“I'll think about it, OK?”
“OK, we'll support you no matter what. You know that, right?”
“I know.” Emma hugged Mary Margaret tightly. Emma wasn't sure what she was going to do yet, but knowing that her family was there for her made her less afraid.
Killian was disappointed the next morning when he woke up and Emma was gone...again. He was so sure she felt something for him, especially after overhearing her conversation with her mother the night before. Why else avoid him? It seemed clear to him that she was trying to wait him out. Eventually he'd give up if she ignored him long enough. And he'd thought about it. Often. But then he'd close his eyes and remember the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her skin. And he'd be lost all over again.
But his thoughts of Emma were not without consequence. The fleeting pleasure he got came with guilt. He'd spent the last three hundred years plotting his revenge on Rumplestiltskin, to avenge his Milah. And now that his Crocodile was within his grasp, he did nothing. There were times when he had trouble remembering Milah's face. That was when the guilt nearly became overwhelming. Yet still he couldn't bring himself to leave the sanctuary of Emma's family. He had a feeling that if he left now, he would ruin any chance of gaining Emma's trust. And that was something Killian was not yet ready to give up. So he waited.
That evening, Killian sat in one of the large armchairs that Snow had placed in Emma's room for him. He picked up the book that Henry had given him to help Killian familiarize himself with this realm. Over the last few weeks, Killian found himself in Henry's company often. He remembered Emma's edict on his interaction with her son and chuckled. Not listening to their elders was obviously a Charming family trait. Killian found he enjoyed the boy's company and it was better than mind numbing boredom.
He was reading about something called steam engines when there was a knock on the door frame. Killian looked up, expecting to see Snow or Henry and was surprised to see Emma standing in the doorway. Long seconds passed in silence. Finally Killian broke it.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, princess?”
Emma rolled her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?”
“Why shouldn't I? It's what you are. The daughter of a prince and princess.”
“Maybe in your world,” Emma shot back. “But definitely not here.”
“I wouldn't be too sure about that, lass. And last I checked we were from the same world.”
“Whatever, semantics.” Emma looked down, trying to find the words for whatever she came to say. When she looked up, her stormy eyes were determined. “Listen, I'm grateful to you for saving my life. And Mary Margaret's. But I don't know what you want from me, Hook. I have nothing to give, aside from that.”
His poor, broken Emma. Did she really think that he wanted or needed her gratitude? Saving her life had been selfish, for his benefit as much as for hers. What he wanted was her. In the weeks since they kissed, he'd come to recognize that much. Did he love her? Even Killian wasn't sure of that. But there was a spark when he was with her that he hadn't felt in a long time. And Killian Jones was selfish enough to want more of it. Here she was reaching out and Killian intended on taking full advantage.
“As lovely as your gratitude is, darling, I was thinking of something far more concrete.” Casually, he let his gaze wander over to the bed.
Emma followed his gaze. “Don't even think about it, Hook.”
Killian smiled. “Are your thoughts always so dirty, my dear Emma? Something I'll need to keep in mind for future reference. I was talking about a drink.”
Emma raised a skeptical eyebrow. “A drink?”
“Yes, a drink. With me. Is that so difficult?”
“Yes! I mean no, it's not.”
“Afraid you won't be able to keep your hands to yourself, love?” Killian said, suggestively.
“You wish.”
“We could test that self control now, if you like.”
Emma scowled. “Now...is not really good. Besides, it's late. I need to say goodnight to Henry and go to sleep myself.”
“Tomorrow then,” Killian countered, determined not to give up.
“Fine,” Emma sighed. “It's probably better to get it over with anyway.”
Killian rose from his chair and crossed the room. He stopped in front of her just as he did on the dock, but this time in happiness rather than frustration. She was going to allow him a foot in the door. And that was all Killian needed, really. A chance. Gently, he grasped her hand and lifted it to his lips, placing a kiss on her knuckles.
“Until tomorrow then, love.”
Emma nodded slowly and took her leave. This was definitely a challenge that Killian was going to enjoy.