All I saw from that 5x16 promo still of Killian was a father who was seeing his daughter come down the stairs in a short dress and it dissolved into this Captain Charming fluff piece.

As always enjoy, and reviews feed the muse!

Emma had dealt with every fairytale creature imaginable in her twenty years as Savior of Storybrooke - talking snowmen, a mad scientist with a split personality, genies, the Wicked Witch of the West - but she had never faced anyone more formidable than Captain Hook and Prince Charming waiting for their daughter and granddaughter to come down for her date.

The two men in question were currently sat in her living room, her husband on one end of the loveseat with his legs splayed with his hook tapping against his thigh and her father in the recliner with his arms crossed, an identical scowl on both their faces. Neither were happy about tonight's big event or, really, anything that had lead up to it. Lilian, Emma and Killian's eighteen-year-old daughter, had apparently taken a shine to Philip and Aurora's son over the past year and at some point between Jafar trying to take over the world and Neal's wedding last week, the young man who helped August out at Marco's old shop had asked their daughter on a date.

Which had promptly sent her husband and her father into overprotective mode.

They couldn't forbid Lilian from dating. She was eighteen and one stern look from their respective wives had warned them not to even utter a word toward it but they were stubborn men, and had insisted on being there when Philip Jr. came to pick up the light of their lives - even Emma and Snow couldn't say no to that. Emma had to bite back laughter all week long at the dark cloud that came over her husband's face anytime Lilian gushed about her date and had listened to his grumblings about "No man being good enough for his little girl" and "The boy better not lay one finger on her" as they got ready for bed each night. Her own father had been in a foul mood all week and more than once she had caught him sitting outside Marco's workshop with a death glare on the place instead of patrolling the quiet little town. Honestly, Emma would have found the entire thing hilarious if it weren't for the fact her husband had a hook for a left hand and she knew her father had hidden his sword somewhere in her own living room.

It would look bad if the sheriff had to arrest her own husband and father for attempted murder.

"Will the two of you stop it," Snow whisper hissed as she glided in from the kitchen, depositing a small tray of drinks onto the coffee table. "You look like you've just been told we have to venture back to Neverland."

"I would rather navigate that infested jungle for another three centuries than let my daughter go on this date," Killian muttered. David nodded in silent agreement, his own eyes locked on the front door like he expected a horde of flying monkeys to burst through at any second.

Emma shared a knowing look with her mother. "Were you able to find dad's sword?"

Snow shook her head. "No, but I bought my bow and arrow to keep the boys in line just in case."

David huffed. "No arrow is going to keep me from giving this boy a talk, even one shot by you, Snow."

"Not before I give him one, mate."

"We'll do it together."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Neither one of you are going to give him 'a talk'," she said sternly, sitting next to her husband on the loveseat. "You're going to smile, nod, tell Lillian she looks beautiful and that's it."

Both men looked at her in shock.

"Swan, it is my natural right as her father to warn whatever second rate deckhand comes to court her of what will happen if he exercises bad form with my daughter."

"And don't think for a second I'm not going to give him the same warning at the tip of my sword when it comes to my favorite granddaughter."

"She's your only granddaughter," Snow pointed out, sitting in the chair between her husband and the front door.

"Not the point."

Sighing, Emma ran a comforting hand down her husband's arm. "You both knew this day would come sooner or later."

The former pirate glanced at her from the corner of his eye before returning his gaze to their front door. "Should have been later," he grumbled, the tapping of his hook on his thigh increasing. "Like when she was thirty or forty."

"She's only eighteen for God's sake."

Snow threw her husband an incredulous look. "David, do I have to remind you that at eighteen I was robbing a royal carriage and hitting you in the face with a jewelry box?"

"That's my point!" The prince exclaimed quietly, emphasizing his point with a wave of his hand. "She didn't have to live a life on the run like you did, Snow. What if this boy tries something with her tonight?"

"I taught her how to shoot a bow and arrow and her mother taught her to fight," Snow dead panned, giving her husband a look that dared him to question her archery teaching skills.

"And I vividly remember the two of you teaching her how to use a sword from the time she could walk," Emma added, internally smiling when the two men deflated slightly at the reminder. They had both ensured Lillian could use a sword - because when you lived in Storybrooke you never know when you were going to need that skill set - even if half their lessons had dissolved into a contest on which of the two men were the better swordsman.

"Our daughter's skill with the blade aside," Killian began, "I don't agree with this lad courting her unchaperoned."

"Killian, we are not tagging along on our eighteen-year-old daughter's date. I don't care how many times you and my father insist it would have happened back in the Enchanted Forest."

"But, Swan-"

"Killian, no."

A tense silence fell over the living room and mother and daughter shared amused looks as their respective husbands maintained their unhappy scowls and death glares on the front door. She wasn't completely surprised they were acting this way. From the moment Lillian was born she had been the center of Killian and David's worlds and they had protected the little blonde girl fiercely from the villains that attacked Storybrooke, skinned knees, and the pretend monsters beneath her bed. The problem was their little girl wasn't so little anymore and was beginning to spread her wings, discovering there were men in the world other than those who made up her very complicated family tree - no matter how much her father and grandfather wished for her not to.

Realising neither one of them was going to drop the over protective act without assurance, Emma leaned forward and picked up her cell phone that was sitting on the coffee table. A few taps later she patted Killian's leg to get his attention.

"If it makes you feel any better Daddy and Papa Bear, I installed a tracking app on her phone six months ago."

His attention caught, Killian leaned forward on the loveseat, his index finger coming up to tap thoughtfully against his lips. "We will know the exact location of where the lad and Lillian go?"

"Technically," Emma answered slowly, unsure about the sudden glint in her husband's eyes. "But we aren't going to sit here all night watching it like-"

"What do you think?"

Looking away from the ever increasing mischievous smirk on her husband's face, Emma saw their daughter bounding down the stairs and she couldn't help but smile. Lillian's blonde hair fell in perfect waves around her shoulders, the left side pulled back and pinned elegantly at the side of her head with a diamond encrusted hair pin that Snow had given her on her sixteenth birthday. Her make-up was light, highlighting her natural beauty and causing the ocean blue eyes she had inherited from Killian to sparkle even more. She had watched her daughter try dress after dress on all week to find the perfect one and she had picked a winner Emma thought - a black dress with thin straps that fit her perfectly, paired with simple black heels.

"Lillian, you look amazing," Emma said, smiling as her daughter did a little twirl to showcase the low cut back of the dress.

"Agreed!" Snow said, clapping her hands enthusiastically. "He's not going to know what hit him!"

"What the bloody hell are you wearing?"

Emma turned in shock at her husband's dark voice to find him in the same position he had been in seconds before, leaning forward slightly with his index finger still pressed against his lips as he stared at their daughter intently, just as angry as he had been the night he punched his past self for kissing her.

"What's wrong with what she's wearing?" Emma asked, more than a little confused as to why her daughter's dress choice would provoke such a reaction from her pirate. "She looks beautiful."

Killian turned toward her, dark eyebrows shooting almost to his hairline. "What's wrong with it? It's short enough for the bloody wanker to get an eyeful without even having to try!"


"I agree with your father," David interjected sternly. "It's too short. Wouldn't a pair of jeans work better?"

"David, our granddaughter is not wearing jeans on a date!"

"She would be covered up at least!"

Killian motioned toward their daughter. "Swan, are you honestly telling me you see nothing wrong with that dress?"

"No!" Emma argued, looking back at their daughter. It was a basic date dress, one Emma would have worn on a date before she arrived in Storybrooke. In fact, she was certain there was a red dress just like it hanging in her own closet currently. "Killian, I have one exactly like it and it's much shorter."

"That's different."

"Oh of course it is!" Lillian exclaimed, tossing her hands in the air. "You're allowed to oogle mom in short dresses but a guy isn't allowed to do the same thing to me."


Lillian crossed her arms and even from a few feet away Emma could see the muscle in her daughter's jaw tick, a clear sign she was quickly losing her own temper. "Do you know how hypocritical that sounds, dad?"

"Doesn't matter. No man, even if he is technically a prince, is going to get an eyeful of my daughter before he comes groveling for her hand in marriage."

"Oh, so you asked every woman's father for her hand in marriage before you got an eyeful in your many years of touring taverns?" Lillian asked innocently with a raised eyebrow.

Emma had to bite her lip to repress a snicker of laughter as she watched the tips of her husband's ears turn pink at their daughter's words. He shouldn't be so surprised - Lillian had inherited his sass, after all.

"That's… It's not…Those women…."

"Cat got your tongue, dad?"

"While your father may not be exactly innocent in that matter," David interrupted, and Emma could see her father trying not to think of his son-in-law's extensive tavern trolling days, "I can assure you I am and I'm in agreement with him - the dress is too short."

Snow snorted with laughter. "Are you telling me you never got an eyeful of a farmer's daughter in all your years of living on a farm, David?"

"No," the prince answered indignantly, crossing his arms again. "You were the first."

Snow rolled her eyes. "Sure I was." Turning back to Lillian she said, "I think you look lovely, dear. You're perfectly dressed for a quiet date."

Killian, recovered from his embarrassment, shook his head furiously, the muscle in his jaw ticking. "You are not leaving the house in that dress and that is final."

"I'm eighteen, I can leave the house in whatever state of undress I want!"

"I don't care if you're 300-"

"Well, you would know about that, wouldn't you?"

"-This is still my house and I did not raise you to exercise such bad form, Lillian Margaret Jones!"

Lillian huffed. "You know, living in this house is hell sometimes!"

Throwing his arms up Killian turned to look at Emma with a faux look of shock. "Well that's it. Swan, she knows about the basement!"

Emma sighed in exasperation. "Killian, you of all people should know there is a clear difference between Hell and the Underworld-"

She was interrupted by a knock and before she could even look up Killian and David were standing and heading toward the front door, her father pulling his sword out from beneath the rug - seriously, how had she not seen that there?! - as her husband brandished his hook. With a flick of her wrist both men were poofed back to their seating positions, her father without his sword and Killian his hook, which dangled from a light fixture across the room.

"You are both going to sit there and behave like adults," she chastised, smirking internally at the look of surprise on both their faces that she had actually used her magic on them.


She gave her husband a pointed look. "Killian Jones, if you say one threatening word or make one more remark about your daughter's dress so help me, you will be sleeping on the couch and those quiet moments you love so much will be shelved for the foreseeable future."

Killian's eyes narrowed but he remained sitting. They both knew her second threat was meaningless - she could never deny him when he turned on his full charm and swagger - but her first was a very real threat, one that she had exercised before after a few of her father and husband's drunken antics. From the corner of her eye she saw her father open his mouth and her mother promptly elbowed him.

"Goes for you too, Charming," the former bandit warned.

Knowing her husband and father were slightly under control, Emma stood and motioned for Lillian to answer the door as the next round of knocking came. Fixing her hair in the mirror that hung in the hallway her daughter threw a weary glance at her overprotective male family members - Emma was beyond thankful Henry was on vacation with his family in New York - before opening the front door. Philip Jr stood on their front porch, dressed smartly in a pair of dress pants and a sweater with a bouquet of tulips in one hand.

"Good evening, Mrs. Jones."

Emma smiled. "Hello, PJ. Sorry for making you wait… had a family issue to dissolve first."

He of course wasn't listening to her, his eyes fixed on her daughter who stood off to the side smiling shyly. "Lillian, you look… amazing," he breathed, smiling widely. Emma heard a low growl from behind her and turned to give her husband a warning look.

"So where are you taking our Lillian tonight, Philip Jr?" Snow asked, beaming with excitement as the young man handed Lillian the bouquet of flowers.

"Oh, ah… the little Italian place down by the docks, Mrs. Nolan."

"Same place Lillian's father took me for our first date," Emma mentioned, momentarily dropping her stern face to give her husband a wistful smile. Killian returned her smile, obviously remembering their date they had amidst the Snow Queen drama all those years ago but a poke from her father had his death glare returning, apparently remembering his role as overprotective father. The next few minutes went by in a blur - Lillian handing her the flowers to put in a vase, Snow insisting on a few pictures that made Lillian roll her eyes and Emma laugh. David and Killian sat through it all, scowls on their faces and looking like kids who had their candy taken away from them. After indulging her grandmother in a few pictures Lillian was ushering them toward the door, clearly ready to get her date started and as far away from her father and grandfather's withering looks as possible. Just as they were about to cross the threshold Philip Jr turned, his hand modestly placed on Lillian's lower back.

"Mr. Jones, Mr. Nolan. I just wanted to let you know that I'll take care of her and have her home by a reasonable hour."

Emma wasn't surprised in the least bit when Killian and David said nothing, just continued to glare at the poor guy like he was Peter Pan incarnate. Her and Snow saw the young couple off, waiting until they were both in Philip Jr.'s car before shutting the front door. Without a word Emma and her mother made their way to the kitchen, knowing a bottle of wine was going to be needed while they babysat Captain Hook and Prince Charming for the remainder of the night.

(In the end, their husbands out smarted them. While they were in the kitchen getting liquid substance the two men slipped out of the house quietly, taking Emma's phone with them. Half an hour later Snow's phone rang - apparently in a bid to get a better vantage point of the young couple, the former pirate and prince had ended up falling into the harbor and caused quite the scene as they bickered about how to best get out of it.)

(They slept on their respective couches for a week.)