Can We Please Talk About…

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The Second Time It Happened? (A Leia fic)

Hey, my loves! It’s been too long since I bestowed a Leia fic upon you. This is part 2/? of the story of how Captain Killian-can’t-get-enough-of-his-daughter Jones can’t stop waking up in the middle of the night because he’s just too stinkin in love with his little girl. Leia is 6 weeks old. This is literally nothing but fluff, AS ALWAYS.

Click here if you missed the first time it happened. 

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The second time it happens, Emma wakes to the sound of whispered words of endearment. “You’re so, so beautiful. But even more importantly, you’re smart. You’re so, so smart. And brave. And loud, especially loud. You just love being loud, don’t you?” Emma snickers, propelling herself backwards towards the middle of the bed, hoping for her back to collide with her pirate’s warm, hard chest. 

She moves a few inches, but still doesn’t make contact. “You’re going to fall off the bed, pirate,” she whispers. “Why are you so far over?”

Killian ignores her. “You’re so special, darling. I don’t know what I’d ever do without you. My beautiful, sweet…” (Emma smiles, wondering what prompted her pirate to get all wordy and cheesy with her in the middle of the night.)

“….perfect love. I love you so, so much, my littlest love.”

Emma’s eyes jerk open wider. LITTLEST?! 

She turns around, and contrary to her prior beliefs, Killian’s side of the bed is empty. He is not whispering loving words across the bed to her. No, no. He is whispering loving words to his daughter. Loving words that just so happen to be flowing audibly through the baby monitor.

Emma scoffs and laughs and groans all at the same time, throwing back her covers and trudging to Leia’s room. This man.

She arrives just in time to watch Killian pepper kisses all over Leia’s tiny face.

“Killian Jones,” she scolds playfully, and he turns to her, the look on his face one of a child who’s just gotten caught with his hands in the cookie jar. “What might you be doing out of bed?”

“I…umm….I…” he stammers, and she’s brought straight back to the Enchanted Forest, as he stumbled to come up with a fake name. 

“Charles. Prince Charles. And I’m Princess….Leia.”

Emma just laughs. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to hand over the merchandise,” she explains, holding out her arms expectantly. Killian sticks out his bottom lip, pretending to pout as he hands Emma their daughter. Emma cradles the sleeping bundle in her arms, holding Leia’s face close enough to nuzzle with her cheek. “What is Daddy doing with you, duckling?” She coos, her voice quiet but enthusiastic, “Is he bugging you? Aren’t you sick of being told how pretty you are? I hope not. You’re so pretty, Leiabear. Especially when you’re sleeping, yes. Mmm, I love you so much.”

Now it’s Emma’s turn to pepper kisses all over. Killian watches his girls with delight, joy overflowing his heart. Emma looks so radiant in her silky white nightgown, bed hair falling gracefully over her shoulders, pretty pink cheek nuzzled against Leia’s matching one. Her hands hold the baby like she’s done it for years, not weeks. He’s so, so proud, and feels way, way too lucky.

“You okay?” she asks him, catching him staring.

“Aye, Swan,” he answers her, “Just admiring my lovely family.”

Emma beams, turning back to their daughter. “You tell Daddy that if he’s gunna sneak out to see you in the middle of the night, he’s gotta learn how to turn the monitor off so Mumma doesn’t hear him talking to you.”

Killian emits a frustrated groan. “That bloody contraption is still on? Bloody hell. I swear, I toggled all of the correct—“

Emma cuts him off. “Daddy’s no good with buttons, Leia,” she continues, rubbing her nose against the baby’s, “We’re gunna have to teach him all over again, aren’t we?”

“Swan, I swear, I hit the blue button, just like you—“

“Red button,” she corrects him, kissing Leia’s nose softly with her lips before turning to set her down in the crib, “The red button turns it on and off.”

Killian grabs hold of her wrist gently as she’s halfway through lowering Leia back into her bed. “Wait, wait,” he insists, giving her a pleading expression. “Can I have me merchandise back? Just for a second?”

She opens her mouth to tease him again, but then she really looks at his face and, as usual, every part of her turns soft. He just wants to hold his daughter and make sure she knows how much she’s loved. That’s all he wants.

Emma hands Leia to Killian, and she makes a small, frustrated whimpering noise. (She’s probably tired of being passed back and forth like a basketball during her precious 2 hour sleeping interval) “There, there, my littlest love,” Killian whispers, leaning her against his bare shoulder and rubbing her back the way he knows she likes. Leia’s body relaxes, slumped comfortably against her father’s. Killian sways as he rubs her back, using his blunted left arm to hold her securely against his chest. Emma watches with a smile, remembering a conversation they’d had on multiple occasions before Leia was born.

“How am I going to hold her when I’m down a bloody hand? What if it scares her?”

“You will find a way and it will feel just right, to you and to her. I promise. And she absolutely won’t be scared a single bit. I promise. You’ll just be Daddy. Every kid adores their dad. I promise, Killian.”

“You promise?”

“Yes. The only thing I can’t promise is that she’ll be a SHE, so you should really stop that.”

“Oh, she’s a she. I can just feel it. You’ve our little princess in there, Swan.”

“Whatever you say, Killian.”

Emma shakes her head at the memory, returning to the present. Killian’s lips are pressed to Leia’s hair, his eyes closed while he rememorizes the scent he’s already banked in his mind thousands of times.

Emma moves to stand next to him, putting one hand over his and using the other to lightly scratch his bare back. She sways in time with him, pressing her lips against his shoulder. “You’re so incredible with her,” she praises him, unable to keep her mouth shut about it, “I could watch you hold her forever. Even though it’s the middle of the night and I’m exhausted.”

Killian lets out a breathy laugh. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

“Who are you talking to, pirate?” she teases him, nipping at his shoulder.

“You this time, Swan,” he clarifies, turning his head away from Leia to press his face into Emma’s hair. “I’ll never stop hoping that this little person right here grows up to be just like her mother.”

“I don’t know,” Emma counters, nodding at the way Leia is so comfortably snuggled in Killian’s grip, “She’s quite the daddy’s girl and you’ve taken her sailing every single day of her life. We’re bound to have a little pirate on our hands, I think.”

Killian tsked. “Tell Mummy to stop teasing you, princess,” he coos at Leia, rubbing the baby’s shoulders with his thumb. “She’s always so calm when we’re on the waves.”

“Of course she is,” Emma agrees, already looking forward to the morning, when Killian would inevitably pack up everything and bundle Leia up for their morning sail, “she’s your daughter.”

And that was the second time.