Loosely based on a prompt by riphaerry for .com: "I asked you to babysit one time and now my child keeps asking when you will spend time with them again"

Unlike most people in the city, Killian Jones actually did interact with the neighbors in his Manhattan building on occasion. He would help the older woman on the first floor bring in her groceries or give a polite hello to the guy who lived upstairs.

And then there was his next door neighbor. Emma Swan. He actually knew her name, which helped when their mailman mixed up the mail for apartments 2C and 2D. Every once in awhile, he would get a knock on his door or would have to knock on hers to pass over the credit card offers and coupons. He wasn't sure if she actually used them or not, he just thought it was a nice neighborly thing to do.

Of course, there was also the issue that Emma was gorgeous. Sure, he would bring home the occasional fling or have a relationship that would last a few months. But none of those women could compare to Emma. And if he was being honest with himself, he would feel a bit of guilt whenever Emma caught him saying goodbye to a woman at his doorstep. Emma was a tough lass - he knew she was a bail bonds woman - and, he could admit, a bit intimidating. But she also had this blonde hair that he wanted to run his fingers through and skin that looked so soft he could only imagine the silkiness in the palm of his hand.

That's why he would never have the balls to actually ask her out. She wasn't going to be an easy conquest, and she probably wouldn't have the patience for him acting like a fool in front of her. And of course, she would be the only woman who could make him act like a fool.

Oh, and the fact that she was his neighbor. Imagine dating someone and then breaking up with someone, but they still lived next door to you. Worst idea ever.

Which is why he was lucky that he didn't have a chance to think about the knock on his door that woke him up on a Sunday morning. Barely aware of the world, he wandered to the front door, his hair probably a disastrous mess, and opened it without thinking to check who was on the other side.

It was Emma.

And judging by her momentary look of shock, he just realized that he had answered the door wearing only the pair of sweatpants he slept in and no shirt.

And it was Emma.

He tried to keep himself calm, hoping he was acting natural while also trying to calm his racing heart down.

"Um…" Emma cleared her throat and finally looked up to make eye contact with him. Her cheeks were a bit red. "Hi. Hey. I hope I'm not bothering you."

"No bother," he replied quickly.

"Right. Good," she said, nodding her head to her own response. "So real quick: are you allergic to cats?"

"Cats?" he asked her. "That's a strange question for whatever time it is on a Sunday morning."

She looked down at her watch. "It's 7:30. Anyway, I have to go catch a guy upstate, and I'll probably be gone for three days, and the automatic cat feeder I usually use when I'm away is broken. So you can you take care of my cat?"

The whole spew of words had come out so quickly that Killian was trying having trouble understanding exactly what she had just said. "Wait, you have a cat?"

"Yea."

His eyes narrowed. "I've lived next door to you for almost a year and never realized you had a cat?"

She just shrugged. "She's a quiet pet, not a dog or a parakeet or something. Anyway, she needs to be fed twice a day, and I've got to leave now so I was hoping you could help me out."

Killian shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "Sure. Yea, I can help you out," he replied. "I guess I just need some instructions and a spare key or something."

Emma held her arm up and for the first time, Killian noticed she hadn't come over empty handed. "Instructions. Pretty self explanatory. Spare set of keys."

He held his hand out, and she dropped both of them in his palm. "My number is on there in case you need anything else, but she's a pretty easy cat to take care of."

Killian started to look over the directions. "What does this princess thing mean?"

"That's her name."

"You have a cat named Princess?" he asked.

"Yea," she replied, acting as if it was the most logical thing in the world for a tough-as-nails bonds woman to have a cat with such a name. "Oh, and could you clean out her litter box if I'm gone more than three days? It's just one of those robotic ones, but after awhile, you need to clean it all out."

Killian just nodded in understanding as Emma seemed to relax a bit in front of him. "Thank you. I really do appreciate it."

"No problem, Emma." He looked down at the paper and keys in his hand. "Oh wait, which key is which?"

She grabbed the pair of keys in his hand, her fingers brushing over his palm in a way that set his whole body on fire. It didn't help that the gorgeous blonde hair he so admired was teasing his fingertips with her so close.

"I put a black X on the one for the deadbolt."

She held up the keys in front of him, and he definitely noticed the way her eyes left the keys to take a glance at his bare chest. He wasn't going to call her out on it. Just something he would remember for another time.

"Black X. I got it."

He grabbed the keys from her hand and noticed how she quickly looked back up to his face.

"Right," she replied. "So I'm leaving. Should be back by Tuesday night. And thank you. I really do appreciate this."

"No problem, Emma," he said with a smile. "Go get your bad guy."

She nodded and walked away as he closed the door. Now that she was gone, he had a good chance to actually look at the instructions she had given him. No nonsense lined white paper, but there was something feminine and sweet about her handwriting.

He figured it was just another contradiction from the tough woman next door with the cat named Princess.