Waterlogged + A GFSS Gift
A very belated Merry Christmas to @kat2609 :] ‘tis I, my friend - your tardy GFSS! Thank you for being so patient with me and my fickle muse. It’s been so fun chatting with you and picking your brain (even though Tumblr likes to eat our messages). I hope you had a lovely break from school and are dreading going back as much as I am haha. So here it is, 4.7K words about a distractingly wet pirate. Rated M for a bit of smut!
“A fish? Really?”
Emma shrugged with an apologetic yet entertained smile as she leaned over to get a peek at the section of the classic text he was perusing. They hadn’t had much time to discuss many of the town’s new visitors - especially what with her traveling to some alternate dream or wish or whatever reality - but now that they’d found some very rare breathing room, Killian had brought along the novel Henry had loaned him to clarify a few details of his past.
The fact that present day film had turned the seafaring tale he was trying to share into an animated under the ocean adventure wasn’t her fault - but the amusement she found once again as he failed to comprehend the modern world’s mysterious ways was something she’d take the blame for.
“Swan - no,” he argued, shaking his head as he sighed in exasperation with his hand on his coffee mug. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I think I’ve heard in this realm. Nemo is a sea captain - not a damn cartoon animal.”
“Hey, you asked me if I already knew anything about his story,” she grinned, propping her elbows up on the table. “I can’t help it if things got lost in translation between that world and this one.”
“I just don’t get….why would a fish even be in a doctor’s office in-” he huffed, folding his arms in annoyance. “-whatever that place is called.”
“Australia, Killian, and it was a dentist office,” Emma reminded him. “The movie was very cute actually. Don’t be such a grouch.”
“Love, I can assure you that I’m not at all like that green monster who makes his home in a trash can,” he countered, his pride quite evident over recalling a morning show he’d encountered when they babysat Neal one weekend. “Nor is Nemo a clown or a fish. Bloody hell, this realm truly has a way with skewing the facts.”
“Is this you still being salty about a certain pirate with a waxed mustache and an awful perm?”
“No, this is a whole new level of insult,” he pouted, narrowing his stare playfully at her. “Though I will always be bitter about that one.”