She doesn't know why she's surprised when he mentions it. He obviously has food in the house, and it has to come from somewhere – never mind the suddenly stocked baking supplies which appeared seemingly overnight.

It's been three weeks. She has yet to witness an assistant running his errands. Killian is oddly particular about doing things for himself.

But still, she stares at him blankly and asks dumbly, "You want to go grocery shopping?" Of all the things he might have suggested for their afternoon after a morning on the beach – Regina's requirement – the grocery store is about the last thing she would think of.

His lips curl into a smirk that's already become familiar, bright blue eyes dancing as he leans on the counter. "Aye. I enjoy a good meal, but it does require one stock the refrigerator. It does not magically fill itself, no matter how many times I wish it."

"Is this another Regina assignment?" she asks suddenly, a flush creeping into her cheeks. She's been assuming his request is because he wanted to spend time with her – a dangerous thing to allow, but they're becoming friends. And friends spend time with each other.

But if this is all just because of Regina, and it's one more thing they need to fake, she should know.

A scowl flickers across his face before the smile returns, but this one doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Swan, not everything I say to you is a script Regina provided. I merely thought perhaps you'd like to stay for dinner. Dinner requires a trip to the store. If you rather…"

"No," she cuts in, smiling sheepishly and toying with a strand of her hair to avoid his gaze – he's seen through her since day one. "We can go. That's nice of...dinner is good."

It's not like she has anything better to do tonight – and it's not like her empty fridge is going to suddenly yield up anything more appetizing than cheap beer.

There's also a part of her – a part she ignores – that likes that Killian goes to the grocery store himself.

"All right. We'll make a list and go."

"A list?" Killian's eyes find hers again, except this time she's the one to wear a smirk. "You make a list?"

"Aye. You don't?"

Emma shrugs, her eyes once again on the counter. "Not really a list person. More like I just run in and grab what I need."

What I can afford.

Killian only shakes his head at her, like her lack of grocery shopping organizational skills in a tragedy. He pulls a pad of paper out of a drawer and starts writing while she watches, but her quiet laughter makes him look up again.

"They have apps for grocery lists you know," she teases, pointing at his phone on the kitchen counter. "Less messy."

"Messy, Swan?" He glances back down at the paper and pen. "How does one make a mess with a grocery list?"

"If you make a paper list, you have to bring a pen with you to the store to cross stuff off. And then there's ink all over your hands. And you have to hold the list and the pen and throw stuff in the cart. And...this doesn't happen to you, does it?"

He shakes his head, an amused chuckle escaping his lips. "No, Swan, I have yet to be defeated by a pen. I prefer my list, even if it is a touch old-fashioned."

She nods, falling into a comfortable silence as he works, until she's too curious to help herself. Emma moves to stand next to him, firmly ignoring the heat of his body as she peeks over his arm at the growing list. His handwriting is surprisingly neat, but that's not what makes her laugh suddenly. "You can't just write milk on the list? You have to specify two-percent?"

"It doesn't hurt to be precise," he replies, a hint of a huff in the words, but he grins as he pulls the list further away from her, nudging her with his hip in the opposite direction. "I think not, Swan. You've mocked. Your list privileges are revoked." His eyes dance with delight, clearly enjoying teasing her.

"You are definitely not what I imagined you would be," she says with a roll of her eyes, not-so-subtly trying to get another look at his list.

His voice is surprisingly soft, all sign of joking gone, though he doesn't stop writing honeycrisp apples or turn to look at her. "What did you expect, love?"

An arrogant, drunken movie star with no sense.

A man too full of himself to use his own dishwasher or make grocery lists.

Someone easy to hold at arm's length.

"Emma?" He's stopped writing now, curious eyes watching her.

"I..." Her eyes flicker away from his, darting back toward the list. She's about to tell him she didn't expect him to be so genuine, that she didn't expect him to care about things like home cooked meals, but that's too much like a confession she's not ready to make. So instead, she grins, pointing at the paper on the counter. "I didn't except any self-respecting man to write Lucky Charms on his grocery list."

There's a second's hesitation before he laughs, a moment where his eyes bore into hers and she can see that he knows she's just deflecting, but then it's gone, his deep laughter filling the kitchen. "Aye, Swan. What can I say? The luck of the Irish and all that."

"Uh huh. Can you put some grown up cereal on there for me?" The question slips out without her intending to ask for anything, her cheeks flushing. "I mean, I can just grab it while we're there. You don't have to put my stuff on your list…"

But he's already writing again, his precise letters spelling out boring cornflakes right under his ridiculous cereal.

She tells herself it's just a stupid grocery list, but there's something about the way he fits her into his routine that makes her feel a whole hell of a lot more than she ever wanted to about cornflakes.

The warmth Killian's smirk brings on when he grabs the box and throws it in the cart is a whole other matter – one best left unexamined.

But she still smiles every time she sees boring cornflakes written out in his flowing script right below his Lucky Charms.

This started as a follower milestone project on Tumblr, so no idea how many outtakes there will be, but this is where you'll find them! Unbeta'd because onceuponsomechaos is on vacation and focused on the main chapters of TWFI :)