Happy holidays to OptimisticGirl! I know when you and I joked about this particular situation, it was mostly just silly, but this ended up becoming really serious for some reason. Oh well - I think it still works!

And now, for your reading pleasure: Emma and Killian have an unpleasant run in with Walsh.

"Happy first anniversary, Mrs. Jones." Killian raised his Bloody Mary for a toast as they were finishing brunch.

"Happy first anniversary, Mr. Swan," Emma replied, toasting with the remains of her coffee. It was much too early, in her opinion, for booze or for chastising her husband about her last name. She'd wait till dinner for both.

"I know, I know," he said after taking a sip. "I just couldn't resist."

"Hm?"

"Your last name. You know it doesn't bother me that you kept it, right?"

"That's good, since I love you more than anything in this world and still couldn't care less if it bothered you."

He grinned in reply. "I know. Honestly, I'm glad you didn't change your name. You're my Swan Princess—it just wouldn't be right if you weren't Swan anymore."

It was hard not to smile at the mention of the letters; sometimes, she'd reread some of her favorites, and her heart still fluttered when she'd read his sweet greetings. My dearest Swan, my beloved Princess. "Which is why it wouldn't do for you to be promoted to commodore or anything like that."

"Oi!" He pulled his pirate necklace out from under his shirt. "Pirate, love. Captain's the highest rank."

"Oh, stop, it's not like I was suggesting you'd be demoted."

"Fair enough. How's your Belgian waffle? Or what's left of it, I suppose—you demolished it. "

"Fucking amazing, as usual. What did you get again?"

"Crab cake Benedict. Would you like to try some?"

"Sure." She waited for him to set aside a couple of bites for her to grab; she knew better than to just eat brunch food off his plate. "Oh wow, that is great."

"Aye, it's stupendous."

"Want any of what's left of my waffle?"

"No offense, love, but I'm not sure how you can eat something so sugary for breakfast."

"No wonder you can't handle breakfast cereal." He chuckled with his mouth full of Bloody Mary.

And then, into the restaurant, walked Walsh. Emma froze.

She wasn't exactly practiced in the art of bumping into one's ex, mostly because she didn't really do relationships. She'd seen Neal plenty on campus before they'd both graduated, and every time it had happened, she'd felt sick and desperate and miserable. But since Walsh was the first real boyfriend she had after that, it really was the first time in about a decade she was dealing with this situation. And all she really felt was a strange sort of embarrassment, and an intense desire not to have to deal with him.

She let Killian continue their lazy breakfast conversation as she eyed her ex, who was now sitting at a booth just close enough to make her uncomfortable. He seemed to be alone, but Emma could tell he was waiting for someone; he had that irritated look on his face that she'd always caught a glimpse of if she showed up late to dinner.

She kept one eye on him as casually as possible, just to see if he'd spotted her, as she and Killian discussed their plans for the rest of the day. As she agreed with Killian about their post-brunch plans (he was currently speaking in thinly veiled innuendo about how hard he was going to fuck her when they got home), and made some suggestions regarding what movie they should watch post-coitus (he was insisting on Who Framed Roger Rabbit while she was pushing for The Princess Bride), a woman came in and sat across from Walsh, whose impatient expression didn't change.

Emma tried to stay focused on her husband. It was her first wedding anniversary with the most incredible man she'd ever met—she shouldn't be distracted by an unpleasant ex on a date. But as she and Killian finished their meal, the conversation from Walsh's booth became more audible, even over the din of the other diners.

"I just don't see why we'd have to have this conversation in public," he said loudly to his dining companion. Her reply wasn't clear (she was obviously using her indoor voice), but Walsh didn't really like it. "You can't just break up with me without letting me have my say."

Ugh. She'd heard this bullshit before, for hours and hours the night she'd broken up with this woman would run like hell to freedom.

She flinched as Killian turned in his seat, a curious look on his face; he was looking straight at Walsh. He turned back to her. "That seems like an unpleasant situation."

"Yeah."

"Well, I don't think that's a good reason to throw away a perfectly decent relationship," Walsh continued loudly. He was beginning to get the attention of plenty of other patrons. Mercifully, the check arrived; Emma had never whipped out a credit card so quickly in her life. Meanwhile, she could tell that Killian was still listening in on Walsh's breakup conversation, clearly intrigued by the drama.

"Poor lass," he said softly. "I can't imagine what she's dealing with right now."

"I can," Emma replied, rolling her eyes. "We should get out of here."

"She should get out of here," he corrected. The server returned with the receipt, and Emma hastily scrawled in tip and her signature before stuffing her credit card back in her bag. "Wait, hold on."

"No, come on, let's go," she said insistently.

"Wait."

"I don't think you know what I'm capable of," Walsh was saying. Emma remembered him well enough to know there was probably no bite behind the bark, but damn if he didn't sound threatening. The comment certainly didn't carry the implication that he was capable of being a better boyfriend; it sounded much more ominous.

"Oh, that's not all right," Killian growled. "Oi, mate!" Emma practically ducked behind her jacket, which she had been in the process of putting on. "The lady is trying to let you down easy—might be best if you let it go, aye?"

"Oh god," Emma whispered. She prayed to every deity in the book that Walsh wouldn't recognize her.

"Mind your own business, buddy," Walsh replied angrily. "We're a little busy here."

"Suit yourself." She felt Killian tugging at her elbow. "Come on, love; I'll have a word with the hostess before we make our exit."

"Okay." She kept her head down as they wound around tables to get to the entrance to the restaurant. "I'm going to wait outside," she added, leaving Killian at the hostess' podium.

She gulped at the fresh air; she wasn't sure what would have happened if Walsh had recognized her, but given the fact that he was in the middle of a dramatic breakup, he'd probably lose his shit.

Killian was by her side moments later, a dazed expression on his face. "That was surreal."

"Let's get out of here."

"We should; if that man recognizes me, I'm going to get a fist to the face."

"What?"

"Never mind. What matters is that I've alerted the hostess to the issue. Anyway, I'm sorry, love; I know this isn't an enjoyable way to end breakfast on our first anniversary."

"Nah, I don't mind having a heroic husband." She grinned. "Now, let's get the hell out of here before he comes out and follows us."

They were halfway to their car when Emma felt a tap on her shoulder. "Excuse me!" She turned to find the woman who'd been attempting to break up with Walsh.

"Oh, are you okay?" Killian asked as he recognized her. "Do you need any help getting home safely?"

"I'm fine, just wanted to say thanks for stepping in. I knew he was going to be hard to break up with, but I was hoping that he could have stayed calm in public." She laughed nervously. "Obviously, I was wrong."

"You couldn't have known," Emma said gently.

"Eh, I should have guessed," the woman replied wryly. "He gave me this long lecture towards the beginning of the relationship about how his last serious girlfriend had dumped him over the phone, and how horrible it was that she did that, so I thought this way, he'd have fewer things to get mad about."

"He sounds like quite the catch," Killian said sarcastically. "Men like him should come with a warning tattooed on their foreheads."

"He just wants you to call him a gentleman," Emma explained. Killian grinned widely.

"Ah. Well then, thanks. You were quite the gentleman."

"Why, I only do what's right," he said, bowing with a dramatic flourish.

"I hope this hasn't ruined your day," the woman continued.

"Definitely not," Emma replied. "I hope it hasn't ruined yours."

The woman laughed. "Nah, not at all. Well, thanks again."

Once the woman was out of earshot, Emma finally burst out laughing. "What is it, love?"

"That was Walsh."

"What?"

"Walsh. That asshole was my ex-boyfriend." Killian raised an eyebrow in confusion. "The one I was with when you started leaving me letters? The one who sold furniture? Remember? The Anti-IKEA Asshole?"

Recognition dawned on her husband's face. "No!"

"Yes!"

"Emma, I've had this conversation with him before."

"What are you talking about?"

"I bumped into him outside our building of all places, and he was on his phone, leaving someone threatening messages. They were along these same lines—whoever was breaking up with him couldn't do this to him, had no idea what he was capable of, et cetera. I alerted the doorman at the time—he may have called the cops on him."

"Oh my god."

"Wait, she mentioned a breakup over the phone—"

"That was me!" she exclaimed. "Oh my god!" Laughter continued to bubble out of her.

"Really?"

"Well, when did it happen? Before we were together?"

His brow furrowed in thought before his jaw dropped. "It was towards the beginning—you'd just told me you were single."

"I wrote that letter after I spent three hours on the phone, breaking up with him."

"This is absurd! I can't believe—"

"Hey!" They both turned to find Walsh, who'd spotted Killian and was storming up the sidewalk towards them.

"Shit."

"Shall we run?"

"Hell yeah."

An hour later, as Killian thrust into her, Emma's phone rang. "Oh no you don't," Killian grunted, thrusting even harder as if to prove a point.

"I wasn't going to," she managed to say, but then he shifted so that she was on top. It was hard to think about the phone ringing when his lips were on one of her nipples. The call went to voicemail and Emma came.

Later, when Killian was in the shower, she grabbed her phone. The number was vaguely familiar—with a local area code—and whoever it was had actually left a message. So at least it wasn't a spam call. She opened her voicemail app and listened.

"I don't know what you thought you were doing earlier, but you know I have a great lawyer and I'm sure—"

She shrieked and threw the phone across the bed.

"All right there, love?" Killian called out from the shower.

"Uh, yeah?"

"You don't sound so sure!"

"Just … I'll show you when you're done!"

But he was out of the shower only a few moments later, dripping all over the carpet. "Hey, I said I'd show you when you were done! You're getting water everywhere."

"Emma, my love, we've been together for three years now. Are you surprised that I can sense when you're troubled? What's upset you?"

"Just … okay, listen." She grabbed the phone from where it had bounced and landed on the floor. She hit play and speaker, and soon, Walsh's irritated voice came crackling out.

"I don't know what you thought you were doing earlier, but you know I have a great lawyer and I'm sure you also know that what you put your accomplice up to constitutes harassment. Clearly, it wasn't enough for you to throw away a perfect relationship for no reason at all—no, I finally find another great relationship, and you have to ruin that through public humiliation! You can tell your boytoy that I'm coming after both of you for this, you know—I told you not to underestimate me!"

They stayed silent for a few moments after the voicemail ended, with Emma sitting huddled on the bed, suddenly very self-conscious about her nakedness, and Killian standing beside her, a towel wrapped around his waist and his fists clenched at his sides.

She finally broke the silence. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For ruining our anniversary."

"How on earth did you ruin our anniversary?"

"I mean … well … this!" She pointed at the phone.

"Did you call him and ask him to leave an angry voicemail?"

"Oh, stop it, you know what I mean."

"Did you provoke him at the restaurant? Encourage him to be a right git to that poor woman?"

"Killian."

"Did you teach him to be belligerent and disrespectful and entitled when it comes to women?"

"Stop it. Please stop it." She sighed. "I should have stopped you!"

"Love, please, do you really think this man is a threat?"

"Well, I guess not, it's just a huge mood killer!"

"The mood's not killed at all, love." He sat on the bedspread, and she sighed—he was getting everything damp. "Now tell me, as honestly as you can: is Walsh going to make good on this threat?"

She shrugged. "Probably not? I ignored his voicemails after we broke up, so I have no idea what threats he made without following through. I do know that our breakup was going the same way as the one we saw today, though."

He reached out and caressed her arm. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"You had no one to intervene. You had to endure that man's absurd and unfair arguments for a prolonged length of time."

"I was okay," she said, shaking her head. "Anyway, that's not an issue anymore. This is."

"It's really not," he said emphatically. "The only reason I ask about the seriousness of his threats is that I'd prefer not to waste time and resources and worry on an empty threat. However, I can assure you—as an actual attorney, I have all the experience, skills, and connections necessary to quash this insignificant little issue." His hand moved up to her face to cup her cheek. "Please, my dearest love, believe me when I say he's full of hot air."

"The day's still ruined." She was only going to get one first wedding anniversary—she hoped—and now it was tainted forever by Walsh the assface.

"Not the way I see it."

"And how's that?"

"Absolutely delicious brunch? Check." She rolled her eyes at him, but he continued on anyway. "Intensely passionate afternoon delight? Check." She snorted at that one. "Dinner at one of our favorite restaurants this evening? Check. Putting the piece of human trash that is your ex-boyfriend in his place? Check. Rescuing your successor from a terrible fate? Check. What's there to be sad about?"

What was there to be sad about? The discomfort and embarrassment she'd felt earlier was just a memory now, and she was looking forward to the rest of the day. And knowing that Killian—her Captain, her love, her husband—had inadvertently made an enemy of Walsh twice by doing the right thing was simultaneously entertaining and moving.

"You know what would make me feel better?" she asked, batting her eyelashes as innocently as possible.

"What's that, my dearest Swan?"

"Watching The Princess Bride."

He laughed, and the tension fled her body. "As you wish, my beloved Princess. As you wish."

I hope you enjoyed this additional scene, and I'd love to know what you think! I'd like to take a moment to emphasize that I had planned to write this piece for OptimisticGirl for a very long time, but that I'm not taking additional requests/prompts set in this universe.

Happy new year, everyone!

I am no longer posting stories to FFnet. For new stories, check out my page on AO3 (same username, phiralovesloki; there's a link in my profile as well).