"Good evening Sir, good evening Madame," the host at the door says with a warm smile. He stands at a podium examining the next hour of reservations when both Emma and Killian approach.
"Hello," Emma says. "We have a reservation under Jones for 7 o'clock."
"Ah yes, here it is, would you like to follow me?" the host says after checking the book. He then takes some menus and begins to lead them to their table.
Emma takes a moment to examine the décor of the restaurant. It looks rather fancy with carpeted flooring, fancy plants and ornaments littered around the place, modern light fixtures, and even a pianist playing soft melodies in the corner. Clearly, she and Killian are not the only couples having a quiet date night, several other couples are sitting at their tables, either toasting with an expensive bottle of wine, eating fine cuisine, or merely just talking in hushed tones to one another. The atmosphere is what surprises her the most. It's quiet, with the exception of the piano music, which could be considered barely audible unless someone really listened hard. Emma had been unsure as to why Killian had picked this place considering how expensive it seemed, but now she understood. He wanted them to have a quiet evening to themselves. No hormonal teenagers playing loud video games, no crying babies screaming for a bottle and no phone calls from friends asking them how the new arrival is doing.
It seems that her docks man boyfriend understood her better than ever before... He knew she needed to get away from the house, the stress of their chaotic lives and simply be with one another. Despite the fact that they saw each other every day and slept in the same bed every night, the two of them had barely had time for one another; had time to talk and simply connect with one another. While she is still very much in love with Killian, she could feel the strain in their relationship with baby Sophie and her secret... the secret that is eating her alive. And while her blue-eyed Prince Charming may not know what she knew, they were having this date so they could relax and forget about everything... He understood her plight and pain the most, despite not knowing everything that had been occurring...maybe she'd always be an open book to him.
Once they are seated by a set of windows that look out onto the dark Boston street, both of them examine their menus. Emma is looking at the prices. They aren't crazy expensive, but they are not cheap either.
"Anything you want Love, I'm paying tonight," Killian says with an earnest smile.
"Killian, I can't possibly ask you to..."
"Swan, we share a home, a mortgage, a child, and a life now, allow me to pay for this... remember it's the anniversary of our first official date. I paid back then, and I'm going to pay now. And nothing you can say or do will stop me from doing so."
Emma gives a grin. "Nothing?" she asks cheekily, raising her eyebrow. She reaches across the table and caresses his left hand gently. She slowly begins to stroke his forearm, leaning closer and closer. She smiles when she sees his cheeks flush.
She then impulsively leans over and kisses his lips, knocking over an empty glass as she does so. Neither of them cares who might be watching. They are both lost in each other. The sexual tension between them is almost impossible to cut.
"How about now?" she whispers. All the terrible thoughts in her minds seem to have melted away. No flashbacks, no feelings of fear, no dread in the pit of her stomach... just pure love, everything else was forgotten at that moment. She knew how much it hurt Killian when she refused to intimate. He understood that it was all from her trauma with Arthur King, but she knew he missed those moments when the world seemed to stop, and it would just the two of them. Even though they had only experienced one another sexually a few times, she'd missed the softness of his skin, the feeling of his hair going through her fingers, the scent of salt and rum on his breath. It had been so intoxicating, like a drug she wants to continue getting high on, and now she wants that feeling of lust back, shoving the horrible memories aside to simply kiss him again.
"Aye," he breathes, doing his best to hold back the passion. He bites his lip, knowing what Emma was after. Despite her aversion to contact because of the kidnapping, he wants to savour this cheeky and impulsive move by her. His heart ramming against his chest, he wants to pull her across the table and into his lap, hold onto this fleeting moment when there was no fear or trauma standing in the way of their love. He embraces the taste of her lips, feeling as if it had been forever since he'd last feasted upon them.
The couple then remembers that they are in a public restaurant and Emma sits back down, trying to collect herself. She puts the knocked over the glass back up and fixes her dress.
"Good evening to the both of you," a waiter says, bringing a pitcher of water for them. "Can I recommend a glass of wine or perhaps a bottle for the both of you?"
"Thank you, but no thank you, we have a baby at home who is nursing," Emma says politely. "But Killian you can drink something if you want."
The couple both knew that Emma longed for a drink. Both had used the benefit of alcohol to numb their pains of loss before, making them forget their pasts, but the blonde has never had that experience since she'd been rescued and was pregnant. And again, now with nursing, her daughter, not a strong drink could be consumed.
"No Love," Killian says. "As long as you are not drinking, neither am I."
"Killian don't do that to yourself..."
"No Swan, it's all right. In fact, let's still have something with bubbles. Do you have any sparkling cider?" he asks the waiter.
"We do, shall I bring you two glasses of that?"
"Yes, please."
Emma looks at Killian with a grateful smile. For a brief moment she'd forgotten that it was their anniversary, and even though she couldn't drink anything strong, they could still celebrate.
Her boyfriend reaches across the table and strokes her hand with his thumb. The two become lost in each other's eyes for so long that the waiter has to clear his throat several times to get their attention.
After they've ordered, the couple sits in silence for what seems like forever. It feels rather awkward and Emma swallows as she realizes that her happy, impulsive moment of passion has faded and she's back to being nervous. It makes her sad that she seems to pull away from the man she loves again. It felt like she had been submerged in deep, dark water for a long time, being pushed and weighed down by fear and anxiety, only to float briefly to the surface, allowing herself to breathe and see Killian's face, feel his arms around her before she's pulled back under again. Her chest tightens as her mind goes to her baby daughter at home.
She begins checking her phone repeatedly, waiting for anything... a call from the police saying Henry was in a car accident or someone had broken in, a call from her best friend saying that Sophie's in the hospital with some illness, a call from the fire department to say that they'd lost everything or even a call from him... threatening everything that she loved.
"Do you think something's wrong?" Emma blurts her thoughts aloud.
"What? No Love, of course not."
"What if something happened and she can't get to the phone..."
"Emma..." Killian says, reaching over and grabbing both her hands, forcing her to drop her phone. "Love everything will be fine."
"What if Sophie needs more milk or she can't find the diapers..." she stares out the window into the dark street, so very afraid.
"Emma!" he says strongly, waiting for her to face him. He gently rubs circles into her hands with his thumbs. "Everything is fine. Mary Margret knows what she's doing and Henry's there to help too. I know it's hard to leave our little lass at home, but she's safe... you're safe... we're all safe."
The blonde gives a reluctant smile and takes in a deep breath to calm herself down. She knows she's being irrational and paranoid, but she can't help it very much. With Sophie always at the forefront of her mind and from her horrible experiences in captivity, it's clear she can't let go as easily as she'd like. She understands that Killian just wants to help her relax and smile again. She knows she's been focusing so much on the helpless baby, she forgot about this amazing man in her life that she seems to be taking for granted.
"You're right, I'm sorry."
"No need to be sorry love, you're a wonderful mother and this just shows how much you care. And I love you for it."
Miss Swan blushes and smiles, Mr. Jones winking and then gently kissing her hands the way a gentleman would.
"I just hope you're right," Emma mutters to herself.
...
There's a knock at the door. Mary Margret has just gotten Sophie to finish her evening bottle and is trying to burp her. The baby makes soft noises as the teacher walks back and forth, rubbing the back of the infant. She walks past the kitchen island where she's Henry's nose in a comic book rather than studying his notes. She snatches the comic away and puts it on the kitchen table. The teenager opens his mouth to protest, but Mary Margret shoots him a stern look, warning him what fighting this might do. He goes back to reading his notes as another round of knocking starts.
"I'm coming," the teacher says, patting Sophie gently before opening up, not thinking to check behind the white curtains draped over the window of the door first.
"Hello? How may I help you?" she says in a cheerful voice.
A dark figure stands at the edge of the porch, his face hidden by shadows. His big, thick work boots seem planted on the wood beneath him and he's dressed in all black. His hair is difficult to distinguish shade, and he holds a large bag in his hand.
"Does Emma Swan live here?" a dark harsh voice asks.
This catches Mary Margret off guard, the deepness of the voice and the edge to his question immediately unsettles her. She holds Sophie close and holds onto the door in her hands.
"Y-Yes, she does, but she's out for the night. Maybe you can come back tomorrow?"
The feeling of dread is filling her stomach with each passing moment. She immediately regrets answering the door.
"But I need to see her now, it's an emergency."
The raven-haired woman can vaguely see the man's eyes, staring hungrily at her, or to be more precise, the baby.
"She has something that I deserve."
"I...I think you have the wrong address. Please leave."
The man steps closer, but Mary Margret begins shutting the door.
"You cannot make me," he sneers.
"I can if I call the cops," she says sternly. She pushes the door shut, but a thick boot stops her from doing so. His hair fingers curl around the door's edge and he looks into the woman's hazel eyes. Mary Margret's blood runs cold and she swallows a large lump in her throat as she tries to shut the door.
"I'm afraid I can't allow that Miss Nolan..." the voice sneers, using his strength to push it open and enter the house.
A/N: Sorry for the long hiatus, my Descendants and Once crossover is doing so well, the demand to update constantly is hard to meet sometimes. Please review. Special thanks to Sammii16 and randa180 for their recent comments.