Things had been decidedly less exciting around Storybrooke since the final battle. Emma felt as if she was taking the world’s longest exhale. No curses. No monsters. No dwarves screaming of impending doom. There was something profoundly wonderful about the luxury of being bored. With all the madness aside, sheriffing had become a normal job. A few drunks getting too rowdy for the Rabbit Hole and every now and then she had to bust teenagers for vandalism. She even wrote a parking ticket yesterday.
As she strolled into the office that morning, she practically beamed. Bringing her to go cup from Granny’s to her lips, she savored the earthy dark roast. Taking a deep breath with a satisfied exhale as she settled at her desk, delighted by the monotony of paperwork.
“Hello wife” Killian greeted her from his desk with a soft smile. They usually tried to drive together, but as it was the first day of high school she couldn’t resist driving Henry to school…much to his disdain. Suddenly it wasn’t cool to hang out with mom in public. Teenagers…
“Hello, husband” she replied congenially as she watched the color rush into his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Something was still so, so sweet about those words. Even two months later.
She took in the stacks of paperwork: incident reports for car accidents, tickets, budget information, and of course, complaints. She took note that her sweet husband was kind enough to separate Leroy’s complaint letters out from the others. Chuckling to herself, she grabbed the impressive stack and headed toward the filing cabinet. She passed by his desk with an extra bounce to her step as she deposited the letters in the file marked “Leroy…again”. They didn’t really even read them anymore. A barking dog was not an emergency.
As she turned back, she caught him with his eyes fixed to her body, a slight blush creeping up on her cheeks. His tongue pressed between his teeth as if he hadn’t already had her once before work.
“Down boy.” She said with a musical laugh as she stopped to kiss him quickly on the cheek.
“Can you blame a man, Swan? You look positively radiant today” He waggled his eyebrows and scratched behind his ear as he grinned at her.
“Well, you know, I’ve got 99 problems but a curse ain’t one” She threw over her shoulder as she walked back toward her desk.
“99 problems? Is there something you’re not telling me, love?” His face scrunched into one of concern.
“Oh, um, no. It’s Jay Z.”
“Jay who?” He cocked his head in confusion. She scrambled to think of how to explain modern music to him. He still sings sea shanties.
“He’s a rapper”
“Oh. What does he wrap?” It was all she could do to contain her laughter. He was so innocent sometimes and so not innocent other times…she snapped her thoughts back to the present.
With a smile twitching on her lips, “Not wrapping like presents…rap as in music. He’s kind of a musician. It’s like a poem set to music” And there’s a lot of bitches and hoes, but she didn’t tell him that part.
“Oh, well I gather that would be quite pleasant” He said, no doubt thinking of those Walt Whitman poems he had found set to some charming and wistful violin.
“I’ll show you some time.” She said with a smirk.
A few days later, she sat at the kitchen table wrestling with her broken coffee maker. “Stupid motherfucking thing, just fucking-” She cursed as she jammed the screwdriver in with more force. It was still early and he was still asleep. He’d been up late last night making her toes curl and her voice hoarse. She had a hard time getting comfortable all night and after waking up three times, she decided to just get up for the day. It didn’t mean she couldn’t grumble about it.
“Oi! Love, what did that poor contraption do to you?” Killian asked sleepily as he entered the room, taking in the hilarious sight in front of him. He’d awakened suddenly, feeling bereft without her by his side. He ambled after her guided by the loud and quite angry sounding music and a few colorful words from his wife. She jammed the flathead into the toaster again and with more force. She didn’t appear to know what she was doing at all, unless she was trying to destroy it.
“It deprived me of coffee and for that it must be punished” She seethed. She jabbed the machine’s guts again, hoping that maybe hitting it would somehow cause it to freaking cooperate. Hechuckled and made his way to her, carefully taking the screw driver from her hand and safely depositing it back on the kitchen counter.
“Easy, love. Surely we can remedy this affliction with some Granny’s?” He affectionately rubbed her back with his hand.
“I’d have to put on real clothes and drive there though” He sighed. Taking in her indecently short pajama shorts and her tank top pressed tightly to her chest so as to hint that she was not wearing a bra, he decided he didn’t want her to change clothes. He liked her just fine like this.
“You’re fortunate that you’re actually quite adorable when you’re acting like a petulant child. Not to worry, your dashing husband will fetch it for you.” She smiled up at him. Yep, he was a keeper.
“Aw, thank you Killian” she said coming up to meet his lips.
“No offense, wife, but do you mind if I turn this music off? It’s putting a bit of a damper on what is to be a very romantic kiss.” She laughed and pressed the pause button on her music. “Ah, thank you. What is that stuff?”
“It’s rap. Remember I told you about it?” She said, grateful for the silence. While “I Don’t Fuck With You” is exactly the sentiment she had meant for her worthless coffee maker, it wasn’t great for when she was very tempted to take her husband on the kitchen table. Because let’s face it, she does fuck with him. She does it a lot, in fact.
“It’s…it’s a tad louder than I expected” Well. It certainly wasn’t Walt Whitman with a violin, she bemused.
“Not all of it is that way. I listen to it when I’m working out some times”
“Or when you’re destroying our appliances” Killian added unhelpfully, if she was being honest.
“Hey! That thing started it” She pouted despite the obvious smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. He gave her a kiss and headed to the diner for her precious coffee.
He was cleaning the kitchen when she first heard it. Killian rapping. It wasn’t great technically speaking, but at the same time she was convinced it was the best thing that had ever happened in the history of time. She hid behind the corner of the wall and watched.
“Sit down! Be humble!” He said along with the music as he swept the floor. He was just a bit behind the beat and a little too eager to get the words out. She didn’t take him for a Kendrick Lamar fan, much less a rap guy at all. He was full of surprises. She wasn’t even aware he’d been listening to it since she said it in passing. But then again, Killian has always tried to learn as much as he could about new things. He’d almost gone a month with his iphone before he’d cracked the screen.
“Captain Hook has bars…who knew?” She cackled, revealing herself. His face flushed enormously and he scrambled for composure.
“I’d hardly say that, but I am enjoying the rap music”
“The rap music? How old are you, 75?” She couldn’t contain her giggles, reminded of the grandfather types she had seen on television. He certainly didn’t sound like her thirty-something looking pirate.
“Much older, so you’d do well to listen to me, lass” he joked back, though his crisp tone as he said ‘lass’ definitely was giving her some ideas. He ran his hand through his dark hair, laughing freely as he took in the interest in her eyes. It had all been much less intense as they settled into a normal life. There was more freedom to make fun of each other and less pressure on keeping things romantic all the time.
“Oh okay, I’ll make a note of that, sir” She winked. She thought maybe she saw a tinge of lust color his eyes, but she ignored it. It wasn’t every day that you could make fun of a pirate for rapping.
“Seriously though, what’s your next single? Walk the Plank feat Smee?”
“Very funny, Emma. If you must know, it’s got a nice beat and I happen to have a lot in common with some of these rap artists.”
“Oh, really? What’s a centuries old pirate have in common with a rapper?” She asked incredulously. His eyes lit up mischieviously and she realized far too late that she’d set him up for the punch line.
“They both love booty” She laughed despite herself.
“You’re ridiculous.” She rolled her eyes and snatched the broom from him. “You know, I pictured you as more of a Foreigner or Journey kind of guy.”
“Are those musicians?”
“They’re bands. Rock. You’ll like them” He smiled and wrote himself a note on the notepad on the counter.
“Any other suggestions?” he quirked his eyebrow.
“Boston.” Seeing his confusion. “It’s a band, not the city… Def Leppard…”
“A hearing impaired jungle cat?” His eyes widened comically, but the glint of humor showed her he was kidding.
“You did that one on purpose” He chuckled and nodded his head.
“That one came up on the radio a few days ago. Something about sugar.” He admitted. He stepped closer into her space as he smiled at her.
“Pour Some Sugar on Me.” she answered.
“If the lady insists…” He licked his lips, moving closer but she stopped him right before with a finger to his lips.
“You’re annoying” she said, but her smile stretched wide and her tone was affectionate. She trailed her finger down his lips over his chin then stepped another step closer, pressing her body to his. “But you’re cute.”
“My special super power. Everyone has one, Swan.” He teased. Bringing his lips down to hers, he kissed her. She pulled his shoulders closer and deepened the kiss. Staying there for a moment, tangling their tongues and nipping at his lip. He gently pulled away and rested his forehead on hers.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, boo.” He said sweetly, but he couldn’t keep from teasing her just a little more.
“Oh my god, stop!” She pushed back and started to walk away.
He laughed and caught her arm. “What? I’m just trying to holler at you!”