A birthday gift for the wonderful amagicalship
We had one really bad date and never spoke again and now our friends have set us up on a blind date
Do Over
"Come on, Killian, give it a chance." Tink bounced back and forth from excitement in his living room, trying to convince him to agree to a blind date with her new co-worker.
Killian sighed, running his hand through his hair, "Tink, every month you try to set me up on a blind date. Haven't we had enough of this, darling?"
"Killian," Tink said, "I know… but I have a good feeling about Emma. She's actually the type of person you'd go for. I know it, I can feel it."
She was giving him that I want you to find true love look. Not the look. Killian would literally do anything to avoid the look. Because after the look, came the speech. And he hated the speech. That positive, lift-me up, you deserve love in your life speech. He loved his childhood friend to pieces, and he'd give his life for her; but he hated her I wish you'd find the love you deserve in your life speeches.
He lowered his head, admitting defeat, "Emma, is it?"
Tink clapped her hands together, "Yes! You're going to have a great time, I promise!"
/-/
Two days later, he found himself at the entrance of a nice restaurant, asking for his reservation. He was pointed to a table nearby where a blonde was sitting. It seemed Emma had already arrived and was waiting for him; but her head was down so he couldn't see her face, just a blonde mass of curls. Killian walked into the table's direction and cleared his throat the moment he'd arrived.
"Emma?" he asked politely.
The blonde lifted her head smiling and he was taken aback by a familiar face and a set of green eyes. It was a hazy memory, but he remembered her.
"Swan?" he asked hesitantly, trying to recall the name he was given years ago.
It seemed she remembered him too, because her eyes widened in surprise.
"Hook!?" she asked, confused.
/./
Three years ago
He didn't know what he was thinking when he agreed to a blind date. August, his coworker, had mentioned that one of his friends would be a perfect fit for him and that he needed to get over his breakup with Milah. And he'd agreed to the date mainly to prove a point.
But as he entered the restaurant, sporting jeans and a black wrinkled shirt, disheveled hair and slight alcohol intoxication, it was clear he was not proving the point he wanted to prove.
He wasn't over Milah.
He spotted a blonde in a red dress and made his way to the table. She was drinking a glass of wine and drumming her fingers on the table surface.
"Swan?" he asked as he reached the table. She looked up and he just collapsed on the chair in front of her.
"Emma, yes," she said hesitantly. "Are you Killian?"
The sound of his name on her voice unsettled him, a weird sensation running through him.
"You can call me Hook, darling," he responded quickly.
"As in Captain Hook?" She raised an eyebrow at him
"So you've heard of me," he joked, motioning the waiter and asking for a glass of rum. She rolled her eyes at him. "August didn't mention I was funny?" he said, his eyebrows raising.
"That wasn't funny," she retorted.
"It sure was, lass." Killian nodded at the waiter that had just left his drink on the table before reaching out, drinking it in one gulp before he motioned for another.
"Whoa, slow down, would you?" Emma said, "I'm not in the mood to drag you into a taxi at the end of the night, or worse, having to reject your drunken insinuations."
"Oh, don't worry, love. I can hold down my liquor and there will be no insinuations." He smirked.
"You're a gentleman now?"
"I'm always a gentleman." He smirked at her.
"Right," she scoffed, tilting her head and giving him a curious look. "Do you even want to be here?"
He sighed, "I'm that much of an open book?"
"Well, it's not like you are even trying to hide it," she offered.
"You are right," he sighed, "I have no desire to be here at the moment. Don't get me wrong, you seem like a lovely lass, but you can't hold a candle to my ex."
"Then why aren't you at her doorstep begging her to take you back?" she said, slightly hurt.
"I already did, her husband kicked me out." He gulped his second drink and motioned for a third.
She cocked an eyebrow at the information. "She's married?"
"She was separated. She decided to get back together with her ex."
"Oh." It was her turn to down her wine and motion for another.
"Look, I am really not good company, lass." He admitted, defeated, "I thought I would be, but clearly I was mistaken."
"I'm not good company either." She shrugged. "And to be honest, I am done with assholes for a while." Her eyes had a familiar look in them.
"Recent break up?" He asked.
She nodded, "My ex was a snob furniture seller that felt I needed to change my entire existence in order to suit his."
He groaned, "Oh no, never fall for one of those, love. Aim higher," he offered.
"I plan to. Starting tonight. No offense, but I have no desire to spend the night listening to my alleged date mopping around how perfect his ex was and making me feel like shit."
"And you definitely shouldn't," he agreed.
"Alright, let's call it a night, don't you think?" she said.
"And never see each other again," he finished.
"Sounds good." She stood up, reaching to grab his drink and finished it, "You've had enough to drink," she said. "Bye, Hook"
"Bye, Swan."
/-/
Present time
Bloody Hell, he thought, as a blur of hazy memories came back to him. Her features had changed from surprise to apprehension and he cringed internally at the thought of what he could have done in the past.
"Killian Jones, actually." He said as he extended his hand, a sheepish lopsided-smile on his face.
She didn't reach to grab it and he sighed, his hand moving to scratch behind his ear. "Right," he said, "You're Emma... Swan? We did this before, a few years ago. You were friends with August."
"Yep." She nodded in a detached tone.
He shuffled his feet back and forth, not daring to take a seat. She was looking at him with an almost blank expression.
"I was awful to you, wasn't I?" he dared to ask, his eyes boring into hers.
She cleared her throat, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she averted her eyes, "You might have mentioned I was nothing compared to your ex."
His heart sank on his chest, a bitter bile coming to his throat. How could he'd been such a bloody wanker? From what he was seeing, she was an exquisite woman and she didn't deserve to have been treated like he did.
"Bloody hell, what a wanker. I'm deeply sorry, lass," he offered sincerely, meeting her eyes and holding her stare. She needed to see he'd meant it. It probably wouldn't change anything, but he needed her to know.
She held his gaze for a few moments before she nodded sheepishly, "Well, I did call you an asshole pretty much like my ex was. I - I had a few drinks in me that night."
He tried to recall their entire conversation, but could only remember bits and pieces, "So had I. I used to think rum was the solution for everything. A lot of those nights are a hazy blur." He groaned, suddenly realizing of something, "Please tell me I did not made a pass on you on top of everything and asked you to help me heal my wounds in the bedroom…" He averted his gaze, feeling the blush coming to his cheeks.
She chuckled and shook her head, "No, you didn't. You mentioned you were always a gentleman."
She sighed as she got up and grabbed her purse. She offered him a small smile, "Alright, since Tink claims you are one of her closest friends, I am going to let you do the honors and explain about this." She walked past him and headed to the exit.
"Wait, Swan! - Emma." He called as he turned around, acting on impulse more than anything, "Stay," he pleaded.
She cocked an eyebrow in surprise, "You can't possibly suggest that after last time…"
He cut her speech by raising a hand, "No. Gods, no. I recognize a burnt bridge when I see one." He scratched behind his ear, slightly nervous, "It's just - we are both here, let me at least buy you dinner to make up for that terrible night years ago."
She hesitated for a moment, lowering her gaze to her feet.
"Come on, lass, take a leap of faith?" he asked, tilting his head, a goofy expression on his face.
She seemed to find that amusing, because she bit her lower lip and nodded. "Ok," she said as she went back to her chair.
They sat down and ordered some drinks and food.
"I have to admit," Emma said as she took a sip of her wine, "You do look much better than when we originally met."
He chuckled, "I truly hope so. You met me at a very bad time in my life."
Conversation flowed easily between them as they enjoyed their meal. He told her about finally quitting his former job, which had actually been a combination of quitting/being invited to leave, just a few weeks after their fatidic date. Realizing he needed a change of scenery, he'd packed his bag and flown back home to England to spend a season with his brother and family. It was there that he and Liam, his brother, had come up with a game plan for what to do with his life.
Killian had come back to start his own sailboat design business two years ago. The first year had been rough - as it usually was for a new business - but the second one had been a lot better and he was looking into closing the year with a positive balance and a small profit.
"It's not much, I know, but I have a few good contracts lined up for next year. And our reputation is solid, so I think we will continue to grow," he finished with a proud smile on his face.
"Wow, it sounds like a great accomplishment," Emma offered.
"I don't know if it's a great accomplishment, but I am happy with what I've built in the past two years." He shrugged, "What about you? Tink mentioned you are new in her office."
"Yeah, I was a bailbondsperson for several years," she said and he nodded in appreciation.
"Interesting."
"That was not usually the reaction I'd get," Emma acknowledged. "I did it for about five years or so, but I started to get restless and I wanted to try something different." She hesitated and seemed to be pondering something before she continued, "I grew up in the system and let's just say, it wasn't the best experience of my life. A few years ago, I decided I wanted to work in that area and hopefully change that experience for others. I took night classes to get a degree as a social worker. And well, here I am."
"That's impressive." He commented.
"You really think so?" She asked, tilting her head in disbelief.
"You didn't let your own history define you and you are determined to help others. It truly is commendable, Swan."
"You know you can call me Emma, right?" she said, deflecting from the praise he'd given her.
He chuckled, "Aye, sorry about that, Emma."
After dinner was over, he insisted on walking her to her door - I can't let anything happen to you, Emma. Tink would skin me alive - and they fell into an easy walk next to each other. He'd given her his suit jacket to keep her warm in the chilly night, walking with his hands in his pockets. Occasionally, his arm would brush against hers and he would lift his eyes to find her looking at him with a soft smile.
When they reached her building's front door, she smiled at him as she took off his jacket and handed it to him.
"Thank you for dinner, I - I actually had a good time," she acknowledged.
"Too bad this wasn't a date," he said, his deep blue eyes boring into hers with sincerity, "It was the best evening I had in years."
"Yeah... too bad," Emma sighed, lingering for a few moments, caught in his intense gaze. "Goodnight, Killian," she finally said.
"Goodnight," he whispered as he watched her enter her building, without being able to tear his eyes from the closed door.
/-/
Killian paced back and forth in his office, running his hand through his hair for the millionth time. He was trying, but he couldn't get Emma out of his head. He knew he had no chance with her, as he'd unfortunately ruined things years ago; but still, he couldn't stop thinking about her.
It was like he'd been put under a spell and everything in his life was now about finding any excuse to just see her again. He thought about dropping by her place of work, under the guise of coming to see Tink, and perhaps invite them both to dinner. He quickly discarded that far-fetched idea before another one even more far-fetched came to his mind. He knew exactly how to see her again.
Emma lifted her head from the paperwork in which she'd been immersed to see a delivery guy holding a flower bouquet. She smiled when she read the message that came with them.
I feel like I still have some grovelling to do… Meet me at the docks at 11 on Saturday? Wear warm clothes, I'm going to take you sailing.
Killian
She walked onto the pier, her eyes searching for the familiar face until she heard a voice calling for her,
"Swan!"
She turned around and her eyes found Killian standing on the deck of a pristine sailboat. He was wearing jeans, a grey cable sweater and a navy peacoat and he was smiling broadly at her.
"Permission to come aboard, Captain?" she asked teasingly as she made her way towards him.
He reached for her hand and helped her up and into the boat, his body invading her personal space as he whispered, "Permission granted. I'm glad you could make it."
"Well, you did mentioned some grovelling and I couldn't resist," she cocked an eyebrow at him and he chuckled.
"Aye… I have a few things planned, Emma." His eyes bored into hers for a moment. "I hope you like them," he said before he moved to untie the ropes and take the boat to the open water.
He steered the boat for a while, before dropping anchor and pulling a picnic basket from below deck. They sat on deck enjoying a light lunch while they talked of daily things, like the new boat he was designing or the case she was working on. He couldn't prevent his eyes from darting to her lips from time to time, wondering how they'd feel pressed against his, his hand buried in her hair and her own fingers caressing the nape of his neck. But he'd quickly discarded those thoughts and focused on their conversation.
As the afternoon went by, he steered the boat back into the docks. After properly docking it, he pulled a thermos with hot cocoa and bearclaws from below deck.
"Wow, you really went all out," Emma said impressed as she reached for the cup he was handling her.
"Well, I might have asked Tink what your favorite was. I had a lot to make up for," he said and then he noticed her slight shivering. "You're cold."
She nodded, slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, I know you said warm clothes, but I think I underestimated the weather."
"Here," he said softly as he removed his peacoat and motioned her to stand. She slid her arms in the sleeves and put her hands in the pockets. He softly closed the lapels, buttoning the coat and his eyes met hers, "Better?"
"Better… yes," she said mesmerized.
His hands were resting on her arms and he softly turned her around so she was facing the ocean. His arms closed on her waist and she leaned backwards, pressing her back against his chest. They stood there for a while, both of them looking at the sun setting down in the horizon.
"It's a lovely sunset," Emma said.
"Yeah it is," he whispered, resisting the urge to press a kiss into her hair. "Emma…" he sighed.
She turned around in his arms and he reached to softly caress her cheek. "I was a bloody wanker three years ago," he confessed.
"I was no better." She admitted, tilting her head and waiting for him to say something else. But he couldn't find words and she smiled softly, "Killian…" She said in a soft, but firm, tone.
"Aye?" He said, barely audible.
"Are you done grovelling so we can move to the part where you ask me out on an actual date?" She bit her lower lip mischievously.
He cocked an eyebrow at her, "That depends. Would you say yes?"
"Ask me and find out," she countered.
His blue eyes bored into hers, "Would you go out with me?"
She tiptoed to whisper against his lips, "Yes."
He smirked for a second, before his lips pressed against hers and he was finally kissing her. It was better than he'd ever imagined, their lips moving together in unison, their tongues timidly reaching out to taste each other before fully committing to the dance that left him dazzled, breathless and pretty sure that he wanted forever with her.
"I've wanted to do that the entire afternoon," he said raggedly, his forehead resting against hers.
"Me too," she admitted.
"Dinner tomorrow?" he asked, nuzzling her nose with his.
"That sounds good."
(For their first actual date, he took her back to the first restaurant they met at years ago and they toasted to second chances.
The second date was breakfast out the next morning, because she didn't keep anything decent to eat at her apartment.)