It was the right thing to do. She couldn’t make Killian sleep on that couch - it was worn with springs that liked to bite you in the ass at the most unexpected moments. And she had a king size bed. Plenty of room.
“Least I can do,” she smiled when he asked again if this was okay, dancing in her doorway with his hip hugging jeans and permanently ruffled hair.
Of course it was. They were roommates, had been for three months now. Craigslist had not failed her for once, providing someone who was neat and gainfully employed. In the time that had lived together in the downtown loft, they had become friends. Amigos. Amis. Etc. But she wasn’t blind. It didn’t hurt that he was just about the hottest man she had even came across. With an achingly beautiful face and a set of manners that would make the most suspicious mother swoon and beg him to marry their daughter. Far too good for anyone as messed as up her.
She tucked that thought away as she dove into the bathroom to change, leaving him to get under the covers. The party had been to celebrate his birthday. It had been deemed a success when her friends had really gotten along with his friends. So good that his best mate was now getting friendly with her best friend in his room. She couldn’t wait to tease Mary Margaret come the morning. Her friend rarely did anything that spontaneous so she knew this must be something special. That realization sent a little pang of longing for her own special someone to her heart. It had been a long time since Walsh and he’d turned out to be such a cliched asshole that she’d well and truly climbed back into her shell when it came to men.
Summary: Emma can’t help but wonder where she ranks. Killian reveals.
Warnings: Mentions of bigotry.
It’s not like she’s kept track, per se.
Emma Swan has never cared about black books or numbers: for herself or her partners. After her first (and rather disastrous) relationship, men had been a one-and-done sort of deal. No sordid swapping of past tales. No coffee and eggs in the morning. And definitely no numbers (she had donated a fair amount to the Save Haiti Hotline when one guy was persistent about her digits.)
A/N: I’ve had a “Snow and Charming are being exhausting with wedding planning and Emma needs a break so Killian takes them out on the Jolly Roger and they have a secret wedding with just the two of them” headcanon for so long and canon gave me the opportunity to write this. Also I’ve had Killian’s vows written for literally a year and wanted to work them into something eventually so here you go.
It has made me better loving you … it has made me wiser, and easier, and brighter. -Henry James
Emma stood at the bow of the Jolly Roger, breathing in the relaxing scent of the cool, salty air. The wind was pleasant and the temperature surprisingly warm for how close the sun was to the horizon. Most importantly, the only sound was the creaking of the ship and the gentle crash of the waves below her feet. She loved her parents, truly she did, but with their arguing over wedding plans and their stubborn refusals to compromise even a little, she had just needed a break. Killian, being the incredibly intuitive man that he was, had suggested taking the ship out, and she had agreed almost before the question was out of his mouth.
She heard his footsteps on the deck behind her moments before he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his nose into the crook of her neck. Her eyes drifted closed, revelling in the peace and security of being in his arms.
“Thank you for this,” she murmured. “I know they mean well, but if I have to hear one more argument about where we should get married or what food to have or whatever argument they’re having now I might just rip my hair out.”
She needs a second job and The Library needs a barista. Who knew she would end up with more than free coffee…
The first time Emma Swan tastes coffee, she is six. Her foster mom leaves a cup unattended as she goes to answer the phone (one of those old kinds with the long, twirling cords that is attached to the wall). It’s bitter. And hot. It burns her tongue and she hates it.
When she is 14 it becomes cool to hang out at the coffee shop, drinking beverages that are more milk than anything else. She has a crush on the barista with the blue streak in his hair. He kisses her behind the store. He tastes like cigarettes. He asks her out on a date but doesn’t turn up at the fair.
She hates coffee again.
At 16, she meets Neal. He takes her to an empty fairground and buys her coffee. (The irony is not lost on her.) She sips and listens as he talks of home and wanting; she falls for him a little after only knowing him for a few hours. He’s real and vital and understands what it’s like: being alone. Feeling lost.
(She should have known it wouldn’t last. Then she’s alone again.)
Years later and it’s become her drug of choice on those cold nights where she needs to stay awake. Bail bonds isn’t glamorous, but it can be lucrative. It’s just unpredictable. Coffee… well, it isn’t. Even the instant kind that clings to the back of your throat has a strange kind of comfort when it’s 4 am and you’ve stared at the same door for six hours.
Pretzel Week: My Best Friend’s Little Sister trope + Aliens among us
“What’s up with you today, man? You’re acting weird. Even for you.”
“Dave…” Killian sighed, reaching to scratch awkwardly behind his ear. “We’ve been meaning to tell you for a while, but - well, you see - Emma and I are together.”
“You’re WHAT?” David spluttered. He shook his head, blinking rapidly trying to process the news. Killian and Emma? Oh… Oh no. What if he knows?What if he doesn’t?
“Killian, no. You can’t- You guys have always been friends, and that’s fine - great even - but dating my sister is just-”
“Easy now, mate. Whatever Emma and I become is up to her as much as me. I know this is perhaps coming as a bit of a shock. I get that. But you haven’t any right to dictate-”
“Wait, wait.” David raised a placating hand. “It isn’t like that. I mean, yes, it is a shock, but that’s not…” David settled his hands on his hips and looked away. He nodded to himself once, seeming to reach some kind of decision, and turned back to look Killian square in the eye.
“You know Emma is my foster sister, right?”
Killian furrowed his brow. “Aye. What of it?”
David took a deep breath, clearly working himself up to something. “She’s, um, not exactly from around here.”
Killian smiled sadly, letting his gaze fall to the ground. He chewed his lip a moment seeming to come to a decision of his own, then widened his arms into a low V, his spread fingers emitting a soft white glow.
“I know, Dave,” he answered, slowly rising until he levitated a few feet above the ground. “You see, I’m not exactly from around here either.”
Yeah, I went a bit rogue, but it still fits with the spirit of the week right?
CS au where after Emma gets out of prison she wants no other innocent person to have to go through the same thing. Years later, she works for the Innocence Project helping convicted felons who claim innocence for their crimes get another chance at a fair trial. Her newest client? Killian Jones, convicted murderer of his ex-girlfriend Milah Gold. Years in prison have been a torment but he has never broken. He’s maintained his innocence since the first accusation, instead pointing the finger at the woman’s ex-husband. When Emma and her team do a thorough search into the evidence, they’re shocked to find that so much of it has been tampered with and that all records of DNA testing have been destroyed. Things get more crazy as the case goes on, with Emma finding herself struggling with strange feelings for her handsome blue-eyed client just as she uncovers a wild conspiracy that points to Mr. Gold having the entire town in his pocket, including the police who handled this case. Killian wants nothing more than to have Gold behind bars so he can move on with his life… perhaps with a feisty blonde he can’t help but be drawn to.
Note: anyone is welcome to use this as a prompt because I won’t be writing it :)
Summary: Emma is devastated when Neal leaves her after 14 years of being together and decides to flee the city in favor of Storybrooke for the summer. There she runs into Killian, her old high school friend, and a tentative relationship forms. Can Emma find the courage to risk her heart for a second chance at love, or will she and Killian remain only friends?
Rating: T for now
A/N: Hi, it’s me! The one who hasn’t written anything in forever. I kind of fell in love with this story, and I have plans for it, many plans. Likely at least 10 chapters. Hope you enjoy!
Emma rested her elbow out the open window of her Bug, breathing deeply as the fresh Maine air blew into the car, ruffling her hair and forcing her to tuck it behind her ears. As the sunlight filtered through the canopy of evergreen trees and onto the road before her, she felt a smile play at her lips.
Welcome to Storybrooke, the faded green sign read.
She remembered this place.
Of all the homes she’d been in and out of - and there had been plenty - the one she had in Storybrooke with Ingrid had felt the most, well, like home.
Colorful memories of her high school years in Storybrooke, those three glorious years of stability and peace, flashed through her mind. Warm summers by the water, hanging with her crew in their secret “castle” and frigid winters blanketed by snow, the visceral memory of her breath frosting into the wool of her scarf, moist and hairy from the coastal breeze, were somehow as real to her now as they had been then.
So many years had passed. She looked over at Henry, slumped in his seat as he gazed at their new surroundings and realized it’d been at least thirteen since she’d lived there, and probably at least five since she’d last visited, a thought that seemed impossible. Yet, when she considered how much in her life had changed since then, she had to accept that it was true.
Summary: Emma Swan has spent a decade killing the soulmates of those willing to pay for immortality, but being suddenly given a partner makes her question whether her life is now the one on the line – either at the hands of her uncompromising boss, or at the hands of a stranger magic altogether.
Big thanks to @nowforruin for stepping up to the plate on a rather last minute beta job (my fault) and for the excellent suggestions that got this where it needed to be.
I think I’d need another 18k to adequately describe how grateful I am to have @nightships in my life, but in the absence of that, let me just say that it has been an utter treat to get to write something for such a wonderful friend, talented writer, and birthday twin. Thank you for inspiring me on the daily to be a better writer and overall human being, and for giving me a reason to write about romance and murder. Happy Birthmas 2.0, fandom soulmate. I promise not to kill you.
The worst part was that they always looked happy.
Even through the scope of her gun, and even alone without their soulmates beside them, her targets all had that same sense of peace and belonging that practically made their skin glow from the inside out. If she caught herself at the right moment she could use that, sink deep into the part of herself that didn’t believe in love or happy endings, and breathe in bitterness until what she had to do became bearable.
Either that, or she reminded herself of everything that was at stake – and of how far the man she worked for was willing to go to keep her locked in this bargain of theirs – and did it.
When your best friend is gorgeous, smart and one of the most decent people you’d ever met, it makes sense that people would think you were a couple. Of course every time this happened to Killian Jones and Emma Swan they’d laugh it off and say there was no chance that anything like that could ever happen.
They were friends - for almost five years - and they quite liked it that way.
Only one time, she had seriously considered it.
They were in the middle of this health kick - running a few times a week after Emma had almost collapsed chasing a skip up a fire escape. Killian had offered to run with her - it wasn’t safe for her to be running around on her own, he’d said - she’d rolled her eyes and reminded him that she could take care of herself and that Storybrooke was hardly the crime capital of New England. He’d still insisted on joining her.
One Saturday he’d knocked on her apartment door, too early for the sun even to have peeked over the horizon. The park was deserted as they pounded the trails in companionable silence until it began to rain. A fine mist at first, it quickly graduated into a heavy downpour with large, freezing drops saturating them in seconds as they raced to the cover of the trees.
Killian laughed when she slipped in the mud, his hands coming up to her waist to halt her fall - they were warm, even through her soaked t-shirt. He was close enough she could really appreciate those damn blue eyes of his that never saw him leave a bar without at least one phone number (wanted or not). His hair had fallen over those eyes. She’d told him a dozen times to cut it and he always just shrugged. Water dripped down those silky tendrils, drizzling across his cheek. Dazed, she’d stared at his perfect face.
For a second, she’d forgotten who he was ( her best friend ) and why they’d never been more than that (she didn’t do relationships or men in general, he just didn’t do commitment). For a moment he was just a handsome, perfect guy who she was very attracted to… so she reached up and brushed away the rogue strands, her fingers sliding down his cheek, reluctant to break the contact. It was okay- just for that moment - to let herself get lost in the smile he gave her and to imagine what it would be like to kiss those lips and for those hands to tighten at her waist and draw her close.
They’d hugged a thousand times. But that was different, because he was her friend and every hug they shared was devoid of that pulling tension she felt right then. Warmth radiated from him as the rain tumbled through the pine trees. She let herself daydream for a few perilous moments about a “them” - a dream of cozy dates and tangled limbs and kisses and-
Then, of course, reality kicked in. The rain vanished, the sun replacing it in the blink of an eye. He’d tugged on her shoulder, rousing her out of the dream as he asked her if she was ready to head back. She’d smiled and nodded, avoiding his gaze until her feet found that rhythm again on the mossy footpaths, each step pushing that idea further away.
The moment Emma Swan realised she was in love with Killian Jones. Word count: 556 Read it on ao3 here ~ Read my other fics here Author’s Note: Dedicated to @bleebug who essentially inspired this fic with this reply. This is my favourite Captain Swan moment and I’ve been thinking about this fic for ages now. I hope you like it!
Emma had known since Neverland that Killian had been in love with her. He didn’t exactly make an effort to hide it. After all, he had come to New York for her; he flirted with her incessantly until his lips had been cursed – during that time he’d tried maintaining his distance; he followed her into another realm, not to mention back in time and now they were in the book together. Hell, he had even traded his ship for her. That was the moment when Emma realised exactly how important she was to him (and how important he was becoming to her). And that was the moment that Emma had kissed him, allowing herself to be open to something new that she had a feeling would last.
While they had shared many kisses since, the main one she remembered was how he had kissed her after she put his heart back – as if he was seeing her for the first time. She had never wanted to stop that day.
It was also the first time she had thought “I…” and trailed off, not allowing herself to complete the thought.
The Queens of Darkness (as Emma referred to them in the privacy of her mind) arrived, turning everything upside down. They provided some distraction from the thought that had scared the hell out of her. She knew Killian had a history with Ursula which led to the talk they had about it. She reaffirmed her faith in him. She remembered the conversation word for word:
“I’m going to choose to see the best in you.”
“And I with you.”
And again, she thought, “I…” and trailed off in her mind. She was glad when her parents interrupted them almost kissing after that – it took her mind off what she had been thinking.
Now they were standing in the cabin, waves of relief still washing over her at seeing Killian alive and having him by her side. And him giving Ursula her happy ending only fueled her pride in him. It was then that she noticed he wasn’t quite as happy as he should have been.
“You have no idea how easy it is to fall back into the darkness,” he explained, making her brow furrow at this. She wanted to tell him that it was okay; that whatever darkness he had, they would fight it together;
“Whatever mistakes you made with Ursula, you fixed,” she said, instead. While she understood his fear, she was a little upset that he thought he had to do this by himself.
“I was a villain,” he said, vocalising his greatest fear and worry. He even used Regina losing her happy ending as an argument, leaving Emma without a response to this.
“If we are to believe the rules of the book, then it’s only a matter of time before I lose mine,” he explained. Emma’s head jerked up looking at him, wide-eyed in curiosity.
“Wait. If you’re afraid of losing your happy ending, that means you found it. What is it?” She realised the answer while asking the question, her tear-filled eyes meeting his.
“Don’t you know, Emma? It’s you.”
She hadn’t even realised that she had been holding her breath until that very moment. She felt herself exhale and it was as if, with the release of air, the wall blocking the thought came down too.
I’m having the biannual struggle of “if you want the fic to exist so badly then you should probably write it” versus “noooooo I just want to read this extremely specific thing catered to meeeeee and my current spiral”
Killian watches her dress flare out around her as he leads her in an intricate twirl. She looks so innocent – so pure – all dressed in white lace, her loose blonde hair topped with a crown of woven flowers. She looks every bit the princess she was born to be, dancing among the lords and ladies of Camelot. He wonders, not for the first time, if this is how her life would have gone had it not been upended by a queen with a curse and a thirst for revenge.
She takes his hook as guides her around the room. Tonight is different from their first time dancing, she dressed in red and he pretending to be a prince. But he’s not a prince, is he? He’s a pirate – a privateer, per the story David has woven to Arthur. Gods, how he hates it. Here in Camelot he’s dressed all in black and leather, and he feels more at home in these clothes than the wool the Crocodile had fashioned him in.
But if Emma lived the life of a princess, where would that leave him? He saw the raised brows of the King’s men as she threaded her fingers through his, claiming him as her own. Improper. Impure. Princesses don’t degrade themselves to men of his stature.
(Of course, those men ignore that their queen had not been born of noble blood, nor their king. But, Arthur is blessed by the gods with a sword, whereas Killian has no heavenly ties.)
But then he remembers the darkness coursing through Emma’s veins, the way he held the archer’s heart in her hands as the Crocodile had done with Milah, and he wants to retch. He wonders, again not for the first time, if the darkness ensnaring her was somehow his doing, if the fates were playing a cruel joke on him.
Killian Jones, the pirate in love with the princess. Killian Jones, the man in love with that which he once swore to kill.
The world keeps on spinning, and he continues dancing along.
If you don’t already know, I’m very much in love with @nightships‘ Surfer AU verse, and while she was writing an extra in that world (it’s beautiful, go read it, no bias here), she was kind enough to let me join her and play around a bit with her characters myself! This is what happened.
Summary: Standing in front of her with a board tucked under his arm, the only explanation Killian could offer was “It’s been a long time.” It hadn’t been, though. Not really. Emma hadn’t even known him as long as he’d been off a board, and even for her, the thought of him in the ocean at the mercy of the waves and the sharks was terrifying. It hadn’t been nearly long enough to erase that fear. And yet here they were.
This fic is a love letter to the characters of Emma Swan and Killian Jones. It is a fic that has been in the works for over nine months and I am so excited to share it with everyone. It started with filming spoilers of our favorite female protagonist being stabbed on a dark, foggy night in Storybrooke and it grew from there. Season 6 Canon divergence.
One night of peace is all they were granted before the next crisis began. One night to recover from the aftermath of darkness and secrets, hell and death, before Mr. Hyde made his presence in town known. But with Killian by her side, it didn’t seem to matter in the long run. The moment she saw him above the place his body had been laid to rest, a question in the call of her name, she decided to fight for her own happiness. Maybe the savior could have a happy ending as well. Maybe this was it.
That was what she had believed before she found herself here.
“Ah, the infamous Savior. Do you really think yourself a match for me?” She can’t see his face, the cloaked figure that’s far too reminiscent of past Dark Ones. With the edge of his blade threatening Henry’s throat, she draws her sword, sighing in relief when the action grants her son’s release. Killian grabs Henry the moment he’s near.
Cold air bites at her skin, slips into the gap between her sweater and back, leaving a trail of goosebumps. She tightens her grip on her father’s sword. “I think you’ll find yourself surprised.”
“Perhaps. But you can’t fight wounded.” She feels the ground give beneath her first - knees stinging with a thud as they hit concrete. There’s a thick sticky crimson covering her hands where she’s holding them at her side and oh god -
The dagger poking out of torn flesh burns - a hot searing pain that stifles her breathing. It hurts. It aches, throbbing with a sharp pain paralleled by nothing she has felt before. Her cry is a high pitched wince as her body curves into itself and dammit it hurts. She tries to focus on the roughness of the unpaved road at her knees, but she can feel the sensation fading, can feel herself fading with it. The moment she moves, a small shift as her legs give out, it comes back with a fury.
Muffled words grow louder as the world around her comes back into focus, Killian’s panicked voice the only thing she can hear.
“What’s wrong? Emma, Emma, love talk to me!”
Her eyes burn too, and she tries to blink against the dust clouding them, moaning in pain at the knife lodged into her side. “Killian,” she breathes, leaning into his chest as his arms wrap around her. Magic pulsates beneath her palms but does nothing to heal the wound or stop the bleeding. “Son of a bitch.” It’s gritted between closed teeth, and she tries again to no avail.
Killian’s hand is cold as it roams across her shoulders and down to her back, frantically searching for something he can’t seem to find. He repeats her name, a panicked fear she can feel rise in his chest with every inhale.
“I’m-” His hand finds hers with calloused fingers pressing further into the wound - adding kerosene to what might have been a dulling spark. She reels forward as the lights flicker on, an anguished cry at the contact. It seems to summon Henry, the absolute last person she wants to see her in this state. But before she can tell him to leave, he’s scavenging for keys as Killian lifts her into his arms. Her request would have fallen on deaf ears anyway.
Smut prompt: David and Killian are best friends and Killian's "lady of the night" is Emma. But he doesn't know emma is davids little sister.
*unbeta’d so sorry for mistakes*
Just a silly, baby bit. Ended up being smutless ;).
They’d met a month ago. She was chasing some guy (part of her job) and had turned up at the bar that he worked at. The guy was a bust - had left hours ago - but she was not.
She was interesting, enigmatic and beautiful.
She explained she was new to town, so he insisted on buying her a drink. They talked until it was closing hour, the other bartender picking up the slack for the totally beguiled Killian.
(She seemed just as smitten, Will his coworker had teased the next day.)
Moving back to Storybrooke had been a fresh start after a bad break up. Her brother had coaxed her home after many years of trying, wanting to mend their fractured relationship. But that was still in it’s infancy, gently working back into each other’s lives after almost a decade wasn’t simple.
And meeting Killian was a not expected development.
She’d not dated in forever. Really thought that maybe that part of her life was over: too many assholes leaving their mark. But he was different. He was warm, funny and devastatingly handsome.
Perhaps she should have declined the offer of a drink, but she was technically off the clock and she found she wanted to (despite herself). They were so similar yet different all at the same time.
Three days later she returned, hair curled, a floral dress that toed the line between casual and dressy was topped with her ever present leather jacket. She took a seat at the bar and waited for him to notice her.
Captain Swan The Enchanted Forest AU: [Part 1| Part 2]
[History repeats itself] Wedding day. Princess Emma and Captain Killian Jones, more known as Captain Hook, were on the way to finally get their happy ending together until The Evil Queen crashes the ceremony to destroy the day, in which she succeeded by purposely making Princess sacrifice herself to save everyone. But Killian won’t stand on ceremony to save his one true love.
Bonus (preview of the pt. 2):
Alrighty! This is set before the second chapter of Bloom, and involves a few people learning about the existence of Baby Swan-Jones!
Ruby was back in Storybrooke, Dorothy and Mulan in tow. Granny had spent much of her time since Ruby’s arrival fawning over her granddaughter and Dorothy, over-the-moon at having the former back and finally meeting the latter. But that had been hours ago, and it was night now, and Ruby had insisted on going out.
“This is the only decent place to get drinks,” Ruby explained to Mulan and Dorothy. The newcomers had spent much of their time in town wide-eyed in wonder. Though Dorothy was more familiar with present-day technologies than Mulan, there was still quite a bit for her to catch up on.
“Everything is so advanced,” Emma overheard her say to Mary Margaret, who was absolutely brimming at having her best friend back.
“It’s a little overwhelming,” Mulan confessed to Emma. She had never been to the Land Without Magic. Emma made a mental note to suggest having Killian talk to her. He’d also experienced the culture shock of coming from the Enchanted Forest, sans memory-altering curse. “On the bright side, these drinks are fascinating.”
She held up her Cosmo with a grin.
“The wonders of modern mixology,” Emma mused. She recalled the first time she had taken Killian into a liquor store, and the way his eyes had widened at the variety.
She took a sip of her club soda. Her normal drink of choice was whisky (through rum was now in her rotation), but pregnancy had her refraining. Not that anyone here except her mother and Belle knew that. As far as everyone else was concerned, she simply wanted to be designated driver.
“Are you liking Storybrooke otherwise?” Emma asked.
“Oh, yes. It’s wonderful to be able to finally see the place you, Snow, and Ruby spoke about in such high regard,” Mulan said, nodding eagerly. Emma was beginning to be convinced that the warrior was well on her way to being tipsy.
“I’m glad,” Emma said with a grin before taking a sip of her drink.
“Emma Swan, you absolutely cannot be not drinking tonight!”
If Mulan was tipsy, Ruby was absolutely drunk. Dorothy looked somewhat apologetic, but Emma waved her off. They were all celebrating, and she would be drinking herself had she not otherwise had other important (and wonderful) life events going on.
“Someone has to drive home, and as Sheriff, it’s my duty,” Emma explained to her friend.
“We can all walk. Storybrooke is tiny compared to the Enchanted Forest,” Ruby insisted. “Or you can get your hot pirate husband to drive us.”
“My hot pirate husband can’t drive.” Well, he couldn’t drive well. He was in the process of being taught, both figuring it was high time considering his position at the station and her pregnancy.
The whole “hot pirate husband” had been a shock to both Ruby and Mulan. Ruby, because the last they’d seen of him had been in the Underworld, and Mulan, because, well, the last she’d seen of Hook, he’d been trying to kill them. But they’d taken it in stride.
“But Emma, we haven’t seen each other since he was dead. He’s alive now, you’re married now. I’m here now! Dorothy is here now. Don’t you think you should celebrate with shots?” Ruby asked. Emma had forgotten how insistent she could be. “Don’t forget, you owe me one. You didn’t invite any of us to your musical wedding.”
“To be fair, I wasn’t there either,” Belle commented, trying to steer the conversation away as Emma mouthed “sorry” at her.
“And while the ceremony was lovely, we all did end up cursed before the reception was even halfway over,” her mother added.
“Fine, no drinks for Emma,” Ruby conceded, throwing her hands in the air. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were pregnant.”
Ruby had clearly meant it to be a flippant joke, teasing Emma about other reasons for not drinking. But something must have shown on her face at the comment, because Ruby’s eyes went wide, and she shouted, “Oh my God, you are pregnant!”
Emma briefly considered denying Ruby’s assertion, but honestly, she didn’t want to. Because really, this was a good thing, something they ought to be celebrating. “Um, yeah. Surprise!”
“Oh my God! That’s amazing!” Ruby grabbed Emma, and pulled her into a tight hug. “Shit, Snow, you’re going to be a grandmother again.”
“Yep! And I couldn’t be happier,” Snow says, beaming. Emma idly hoped she doesn’t find out what it felt like to be a grandmother in her thirties and made a mental note to give Henry the safe sex talk again.
Dorothy and Mulan offered their congratulations, both far more subdued that Ruby. Emma decided that she should make an effort to spend more time with Dorothy and Mulan. They didn’t have the same long-running friendships like Ruby had with Snow and Belle, and even Emma herself. Emma knew how it felt to be the odd woman out, and didn’t want that for the newcomers.
“Dear God, that baby is going to be good-looking,” Ruby continued, waving toward Emma’s stomach.
Ruby continued on like that for some time. Though it felt strange being the center of attention, Emma was happy, because she was quickly learning one thing: her baby was going to be so loved.