This is actually a drabble, but it has delusions of grandeur.

The fair wasn't exactly what she expected when the girl at the diner–Ruby, as her nametag said–gave her a flyer, telling her to explore the town more. She'd only moved here a few weeks ago, but she knew the way from work to the diner and back home, which was enough for her… For now. But admittedly, it had piqued her interest a bit when it became clear to her that this town was quite fond of its legend and held the fair just to tell the story.

The fair wasn't as crowded as she thought it would be, the visitors mostly locals, but the atmosphere was enjoyable. It almost seemed like it was just an elaborate neighbourhood party. Very elaborate, with a Ferris wheel, a carousel, many food stands, and other activities for children to do.

But Emma's favourite part had to have been the secluded campsite, where a group of children had gathered around a campfire, and a man told the story of Mary and her beloved William.

The man was handsome, there was no denying it, though it wasn't that that had captured her, but the way he told his story. He enjoyed entertaining the kids, he told the story as though he respected the characters, as though he believed it was real, and it made the children hang on his lips.

He told the story like he was a local, yet his accent betrayed he wasn't.

"So as her beloved did not return to her, she waited for him each day. And some say," His eyes locked with hers, leaving him momentarily distracted, though, to his audience it merely seemed as if he was building the suspense. His voice was low as he continued, "That she is still waiting. And on the night of Hallows Eve, you can see her waiting for him by the cliffs."

Emma shook her head slightly when the little kids screamed as he ended the story with a loud 'boo'.

He appeared satisfied with himself, watching the children leave his campsite with a smug grin on his lips. Though something made Emma remain in her spot, until they were mostly alone.

"Did you like the story, lass?" He asked her and stepped closer, his accent was even heavier when he wasn't telling a tale.

Emma smiled, crossing her arms before her. "Sure did."

He tilted his head a bit as he looked at her, "You know, you look like her."

"What the girl from the story?"

"Aye." He nodded.

"Ah," She said quietly, "Well, that is because she's my great, great, great grandmother."

He arched an eyebrow. "Really?"

Emma laughed loudly at that. "No!"

"Could have been the truth," He shrugged, "Some versions of the legend say she was with child at the time of his disappearance."

"So it is just a legend isn't it? Not real?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," He grinned, inching just that bit closer.

"You told it like it was."

"That is what I'm here for, love. How about I tell you if it's real or not over a cup of coffee? My shift ends in half an hour."

"A bold move, asking a girl out without even introducing yourself."

He smiled brightly, extending his hand. "Killian Jones."

"Emma," She shook his hand, "Swan."

"What do you say, Lady Swan, care to find out if it's real or simply a legend?"

Emma bit her lip, nodding her head. "I guess I will meet you in thirty minutes."

She walked back to the campsite, where Killian stood by the side leaning against a tree as he watched someone else tell his story of the girl who waited.

Killian turned around with a smile as she tapped on his shoulder. "Hey," He whispered so as to not disturb the story. He offered her one of the two steaming styrofoam cups of coffee he held. "Care for a walk?"

"Sure," She answered, walking by his side as he headed in the direction of the house by the cliffs. She knew the museum was locked for visitors tonight, but Killian procured a key from his pocket and unlocked the door for her. "It seems a bit weird to hold a fair themed around this house, and then not open the house from the story to the public," She noted as she stared at the tall curved staircase in the foyer.

"Up until two years ago, they did open it to the public during the fair, but we're kind of understaffed these last few years, so we can't keep the house open. The fair doesn't attract the public it used to."

"Oh," Emma said quietly. "Sucks. I'm having fun."

Killian chuckled. "New people usually do. But the story gets old when you hear it year after year. So eventually people stop coming."

"How'd you know I was new?"

"It's a small town, Emma Swan. I'm sure I would have seen you around before. Also, only new people ask me if the story is real or not. Locals already know the answer."

Emma laughed softly, sipping her coffee. "Fair enough, so?"

"It's real," Killian said then as he started ascending the stairs. "But like any story, there are many details that either get lost or get added as a new generation starts to tell it. There was a Mary, and she had married a sailor." He pointed at the paintings on the walls. Mary did look a bit like her. Green eyes, blonde hair, similar facial features.

"Records say his ship disappeared in 1813, which would have been about three years after their wedding. To this day they still haven't found the ship. Mary kept journals, but as the years went by, she lost hope of ever seeing her husband again, and eventually she stopped writing the journals. As I mentioned, some versions of the legend say she was with child, but all we really know is that Mary mentioned feeling ill a few times."

Emma nodded, following him through the hallways of the house. In her short time residing in the town, she hadn't been to the house yet, but she had to admit, she quite enjoyed the private tour–and her tour guide. "So where does the legend come from that she's still waiting?"

"The story has no end, it's unsatisfying," Killian explained, opening the door to a drawing room. "People want so badly for this story to have an ending that they fabricated one. We don't know what happened to Mary, perhaps she waited until his ghost came home to her and they rejoined in the afterlife, some think she died of a broken heart, others think she threw herself off the cliffs, or perhaps she simply remarried. Some people even claim they have seen her ghost on the cliffs."

Emma walked over to the window, it had a perfect view of the ocean. And just like that it became so easy to imagine Mary standing by the window waiting for her loved one to return to her. "What do you think happened?"

"It's sad to think that to this day she's still waiting for her husband to come home, so I hope she remarried. Or perhaps his ghost did come home to her and they haunted happily ever after." Killian shrugged, sitting down behind the piano to play some soft music.

Emma chuckled. "So how did you end up telling the local story of a town that isn't your hometown?"

"We moved here when I was pretty young, so it's as much my hometown as my birthplace, I suppose. As for telling the story, it was my brother's task first," Killian said, pursing his lips as though he was debating to tell her or not. "After he passed I guess I just did it to feel closer to him, now I simply enjoy telling the story."

"And what do you do when you are not scaring children and taking women on private tours?"

Killian chuckled, "I work by the docks. And I swear to you, Swan, you are the first woman I've taken on a private tour."

"I'm honoured," Emma turned around to face him. "So here's an idea, why don't you get actors? Have a girl walk around the house or by the cliffs dressed as Mary?"

One year later.

Emma stood in the foyer of the house, her phone still in her hand. She'd caught a reflection of herself in the mirror, in full historical outfit but with a smartphone in hand and it had made her grin.

She'd opened the town's instagram, scrolling through feed in search of the photo of her and Killian. The town seemed pretty intrigued by the idea of having Mary and William roam the premises of the fair, it had even attracted a large number of tourists this year.

Emma and Killian had volunteered for it, though all they had to do was look ghostly, and call out for their beloved's name. And by the end of the evening, the people could decide their fate. With the three options being either eternally separated, the lovers' ghosts' finally finding each other, or perhaps they lived happily ever after, haunting the house together–the latter being Killian's suggestion.

"Maaaaaaaaary?" Killian's singsongy voice came from upstairs.

"In the foyer," Emma answered, tucking her phone into the hidden sewn-in pockets of her dress.

"There you are, my love, I've been looking for you," He said, coming down the stairs, he wore an outfit based on one of William's paintings. "For two hundred years."

Emma chuckled, walking towards him as gracefully as she could. "You are taking far too much pleasure in this."

"I certainly am." He grinned and pulled her closer for a quick kiss. "Shall we go out and see what our fate will be tonight, darling?"

"We shall."

Killian left the house first, and through the window, Emma saw him walk into the crowd.

They would roam the premises for two hours, searching for their loved ones, asking fairgoers if they'd seen them, looking generally ghostly. And then someone would signal them the public's choice.

Tonight, David had held up two fingers at Emma, and so she made her way towards the cliffs, looking lost and stepping through the fog created by the smoke machine, until Killian emerged from the crowd that had gathered and she ran towards him.

He picked her up and twirled her around, making her giggle.

"You came home to me," Emma sighed, loud enough for their audience to hear.

"For you, my love, I will always find a way," He said and kissed her.

Like I said, this was supposed to be a drabble, but it became a bit larger than that. It's also just something that I wrote because I had an idea for a short story, and the words just kept flowing I guess, so it's just for fun and I haven't really proofread it, so sorry about the mistakes :|

Anyway, hope you still liked this little ficlet!