A cute little one-shot of Captain Swan. It's a little OOC but I think after Neverland, both Emma and Killian are going to be a little different. I'm hoping, at least haha
Hope you guys enjoy! I'll edit any mistakes at a later date, point them out if you see any bad ones!
xoxoxoxo
He had been stuck inside the apartment for days. Well, it definitely seemed like days to the impatient pirate Captain. Emma had left for work and in doing that, she also left Hook to his own devices.
He had been staying at Emma's ever since they had recovered Henry and returned from Neverland.
Neverland.
The events that occurred on that mysteriously beautiful but dangerous island had certainly changed things between the two of them. For the better. They learned to trust one another. Emma being forced to depend on him and his expertise of the land definitely expedited the process. But by the end of the mission, it hadn't been as reluctant as it had started out. It was natural and it made him feel so...so...well, it made him FEEL. The innermost workings of his heart were beginning to warm up and work again and it was all thanks to a certain stubborn blonde.
Gone were the scowls and the glares he had been accustomed to from her. The utterances bursting at the seams with sarcasm were few and far between now, though she still rolled her eyes at him whenever he'd toss a saucily placed innuendo her way. Emma trusted him now and dare he say it...she seemed to be a little fond of him.
Thus, what led to one Captain Hook crashing at Emma's apartment.
This would be a fresh start. A new life.
Full of possibility.
Full of hope.
But currently, this life was bored and wandering aimlessly around the apartment, stopping to look at framed pictures and portraits, wondering how he could become so lucky as to be in one of them someday.
"You're going soft, lad." Killian said to himself with a little smirk.
Perhaps he was going soft. For once, the idea wasn't terrifying. It actually brought him some hope that even he could change. That he could be different.
With a sigh, he walked into the kitchen and examined the contents of what Emma had been calling "The Fridge", a magical device that kept food products cold til consumption. As his eyes panned the shelves, he suddenly felt the urge to thank Emma for her hospitality and her seemingly never-ending patience with him. She had been so very tolerant of his ignorance to this world and had been working so hard since they got back, that he suddenly got the brilliant idea of wanting to cook her dinner tonight.
The question was...how would he do it?
Sure, Emma had shown him how to use the devices in her home and he wasn't a complete novice at it by now...but, Captain Hook simply did not cook. Let alone cook for a beautiful lass. But, Killian had found himself doing a great number of things he had never thought he would do before and it was all thanks to Emma. And Emma wasn't just ANY lass. So, cooking for Emma would not be as emmasculating as he had previously thought it might be. It would bring them closer which was what he silently yearned for. Somewhere between the Enchanted Forest and Neverland...he had fallen in love with her. And somehow, he believed that she knew it.
He wanted to make her happy with him. To get on what Henry called Emma's "good side", which confused Killian because he was fairly certain that all of Emma's sides were good sides. Bloody gorgeous, if he was being completely honest with himself.
"You can do this, Jones. You command the greatest ship to sail the realms, you can make a bloody dinner." Killian said to himself as he pulled out a wrapped tray of raw chicken and set to his task of making the perfect, romantic dinner for his Swan.
Rapping her pen against her desk, Emma stared at the clock on the wall. The damn thing seemed to take forever to move from one minute to the next. Not that she was anxious to get home or anything. It was nice to be alone...not that she minded Killian staying with her. Hell! It was her idea to start with. But being around him threatened to expose things that she wasn't quite keen to reveal. Not even to herself.
The man had grown on her like a damn rash. His roguishly handsome face and boyish grins...the way his eyes sparkled when he looked at her. It was like he was doing it on purpose and she wished he'd stop for the love of her sanity.
It was horribly endearing the way he needed her here...similar to the way she guessed she had needed him in Neverland. But, something told her it wasn't just her ample knowledge of her world that kept him so close, so interested. He was acting differently towards her.
Something about him was softer.
He was sweet...well, as sweet as Captain Hook could be.
He was helpful around the apartment. When she'd come home from a long day at work, he'd always greet her with a warm smile and take her jacket for her, hanging it ever so carefully in the closet like it was the most precious thing he'd held. He'd fix her a drink and they'd talk about their day. It was becoming a routine of theirs.
A routine she feared she could get used to.
When the clock finally struck 10 pm, Emma shot out of her chair and locked up the station, barely casting it a second glance and she drove in the direction of the apartment.
"Pirate?" Emma called out from the door when Killian had not come down to greet her. She sniffed the air briefly and fear washed over her as a distinct burning smell entered her nasal passages.
"Hook?!" Emma called out a little louder this time, hoping to God the pirate hadn't gone and set himself on fire trying to cook a Hot Pocket.
"In the kitchen, lass!" He called back.
He didn't sound hurt.
Still, he didn't sound right either. Hurriedly, she made her way into the kitchen where a gush of smoke met her. Fanning it away with her arm, she caught sight of the fearsome Captain Hook perched on the kitchen island, sulking down at something in a Pyrex dish.
"What's going on in here?" She asked.
"Well...I tried to..." He began sadly.
"Out with it." She smirked at his hesitance.
"I tried to prepare you dinner." He sighed dejectedly, motioning to the table to their right side. Her face softened at that as she turned her head to look. Sure enough, the table had been set exquisitely for two.
Wine glasses.
Daisy's from Mary Margaret's garden in a glass tumbler...
Candles?
It dawned on her that this hadn't been intended to be just any dinner. It was meant to be romantic.
"I'm sorry, Lass. I'll clean it up." He replied, hopping off of the counter gracefully and placing the glass dish on it as he began to gather the rest of what he had made, most likely meaning for them to go in the trash.
Biting her lip, she walked over to him and stopped him just as he was about to toss the contents of the plate into the trash can.
"Whatchya got there, pirate?" She asked curiously, her hand on his wrist, coaxing him to set the plate back down.
"Well, Love, it was supposed to be roasted chicken...but, turns out I'm not much of a cook." He chuckled in that self deprecating way she had gotten so used to. He only did it when he was unsure of himself.
"But why?" She asked, tilting her head to the side, considering the pirates softened demeanor. He was acting so strangely lately.
"I wanted to make you dinner...to thank you." He replied, his blue eyes finally meeting hers.
"For what?" She chuckled.
"You've been very...tolerant of my presence here and I just thought it would be a nice gesture to show my gratitude for your kindness. There's not much a pirate can offer in a home when he's lived on a ship for 300 years, but I wanted to try." He said.
Emma nodded at that and let her eyes observe the plates and dishes in front of her. Not all of it had been burned. Some of it even looked good. And at this moment, Emma was so hungry, she'd eat a dirty sock.
"Looks like you succeeded here." She smiled slightly, pointing to a bowl of roasted potatoes. At this, the pirate raised his brow in surprise.
"Yea?" He asked, his posture straightening.
"Yea, I mean, maybe the chicken's a little crispy, but people in Louisiana call that Cajun! That's a style of cooking here." She replied with a grin that made the pirate smile.
"You're just trying make me feel better, Lass..." He accused with a smirk.
"No, seriously! Looks great!" She smiled as she popped a piece of roasted potato into her mouth and was pleasantly surprised at the taste that filled her mouth.
Ooooooh, did he use garlic?
"And...the table looks pretty. Are those from Mary Margaret's garden?" She asked. Killian nodded eagerly.
"See, you did good." She replied, reaching out and giving his arm a reassuring pat before she brought a few of the dishes to the table, Killian following with a bottle of wine.
"No rum for you, Captain?" She mused as she watched him stick his hook into the cork and yank it out with a twist and a proud smirk.
"Well, I thought wine would be more suitable, but if you insist." He replied, before pouring her a glass of wine and going off the the liquor cabinet and pulling out one of his bottles of rum he had brought from the Jolly Roger.
"That's better." She laughed as he poured himself a generous glass, practically filling his wine glass with rum.
As they ate, they went about their usual routine of talking about their day. Killian, who seemed in much better spirits, told her of his kitchen adventures, making her laugh when he told her about how his hook got caught on the over rack when he tried to take the chicken out, nearly dropping the entire thing to the ground.
"We'll work on your kitchen skills." Emma reassured him.
"We will?" He asked hopefully.
"Well, sure, you're going to be living here awhile...a-aren't you?" She asked, a hint of hesitance in her delivery. Their eyes met at that and their gaze held for what seemed like forever. The look in Killian's eyes one she hadn't seen yet. Gone was the usual playful sparkle they usually held, instead it was replaced by something tender. Something warm.
"Am I?" He asked gently.
"I mean...can't have you living on the Roger forever..." She explained.
"I guess we can't." He replied casually, knowingly as he watched her fidget under his gaze.
"And, well, it's been nice having you here..." She went on, not noticing that Killian had moved his chair closer to her.
"Mmhmm." He agreed.
"And...I...I...who am I going to call when there's a spider where I can't reach, right?" She chuckled nervously.
Why was she so nervous?
"Of course, Love." He smirked slightly, watching as a blush crept over her cheeks.
"Stop looking at me like that." She said, looking up, his handsome face closer to her, his chair right beside hers now.
"How am I looking at you?" He murmured, his eyes drifting down to her mouth as she whetted her lips.
"Like...like I'm dessert." She chuckled.
"Who says you're not?" He whispered with a smirk.
"Killian..." She sighed softly.
"Aye?" He said huskily. He was so close now.
Had she moved closer, too?
"We can't..." She began as he leaned in and captured her lips with his softly. Her eyes closed instantly as she welcomed his kiss. He was gentle. He was sweet.
"We shouldn't..." She whispered as their lips parted from the surprisingly chaste kiss he gave her. He brushed his lips to hers slowly and slowly kissed the corner of her mouth, his hand resting on her knee while his thumb ran gently up and down it soothingly.
"No one will understand..." She whispered. Having heard her and simply not caring, Killian leaned in once more, kissing her with more passion this time. More fire. This time Emma kept quiet minus a soft gasp of pleasant surprise as his tongue brushed gently passed her lips and plundered her mouth.
Giving up her futile attempts at prolonging the inevitable, she turned to him and buried her fingers in his dark hair, kissing him back with equal fervour.
They could. They should. And it damn well didn't matter if anyone else understood it.
They understood each other, they always had.