Notes: Did I actually finish a story? Yes, internet, I did. And if you’re reading Once and Future and Playing Off Foul, I promise I will get back to it soon before I post my law school au. Anyway, this has been a wild ride and I have honestly loved all the responses I’ve gotten on this, particularly all of the panic and questioning of whether this last bit would be as angsty as the last bits. I’m going to say….you can be relax. This isn’t angsty at all. In fact, I think you’ll quite like it. Anyway, a special thank you to @katie-dub and @shireness-says for being so supportive. A thanks to @cssns and @drowned-dreamer whose gorgeous art will feature at the bottom of this epilogue. And as always, a huge thank you to @aerica13, my amazing beta. I couldn’t have done it without you babe! Word Count: 4,100+ AO3: [LINK] Chapters:Prologue | One |Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Epilogue Rating: T+
The Vineyard Sound was calm, the surface of the water almost as smooth as glass as Emma Swan sat down on the front porch of the yellow beach house. There wasn’t a single soul on the beach across the road, but it was only May and she could only imagine how crowded it got once the vacationers arrived. She knew from what Granny Lucas had told her that the beach was a private one and meant only for the residents of the neighborhood but Emma assumed the majority of the houses here were rental properties and soon the street would be crowded with strangers.
Emma hadn’t expected to remain on the Vineyard past November but something had felt wrong about returning to Maine, especially with Killian in tow. Nothing was waiting for her there while Memensha was full of ghosts, full of history that she had yet to uncover. So, she had given up her shitty loft apartment and decided to stay. She had appealed to the Lucases to remain in the house, offering to pay extra in rent. Ruby and Granny were more than willing to let them stay in the house but had refused their money, claiming that the property should have been hers in the first place because it had been Ruth Nolan’s before it had fallen into their possession. Granny had even forced Ruby to return the rental money, something that Emma was certain had more to do with her guilt than the debatable ownership of the beach house. Feeling awkward about the situation, she had insisted on paying utilities which they relented on.
Emma had taken to working shifts at the diner over the winter on top of working as a freelancer investigator alongside Killian. The majority of their work was on the mainland but Emma sensed that he enjoyed their near daily-ride over to Hyannis, his eyes glued to the ocean. He had yet to go near the water since he had lost his hand. More than once she had caught him looking out over the Atlantic with a mixture of longing and anxiety.
It All Starts With a Dance 