A/N: Based off a kind of prompt I've seen on tumblr (kudos to the people who figure it out) for a while now and the idea of which has been plaguing me for a while now. Decided to celebrate my win at NaNo by sharing this with you all!

Day One

She was going to be late and she blamed Michael.

Damn it, Michael.

It wasn't like there was a lot wrong with her car, it just needed to be checked over for whatever was causing her problem even though she was about fifty percent positive it was the spark plug. That was two weeks ago so she clearly her skills as a mechanic had slipped over the years, growing lax as her new job as deputy for the Storybrooke Police Department demanded more and more of her attention.

The streets of Storybrooke were busy for the hour and the relatively small size of the town, meaning that as she headed towards the harbor, she couldn't just say fuck it and cut across the entire intersection without being pummeled. The corner loomed into view and she picked up her pace as the signal to walk began to count down, breezing past Gold as he kissed Belle on the cheek, past Ruby as she changed the open sign for Granny's, just approaching the street as a man with dark hair reached the other side when it turned red and the cars zoomed past.

Damn it. Emma Swan was more positive than ever that Michael would pay. Never mind the fact that he was probably distracted by his newly found twin children.

Day Two

The very next morning, after a very pointed conversation with Michael who promised that the part just came in yesterday and yes, he would have her baby back to her safe and sound soon, she tried to leave her place early. She wanted to actually get to work on time, just to avoid her boss laughing at her for being completely late because of a stoplight. In a town that was about the size of just her neighborhood from Boston.

So far, so good though. Emma would get there with time to spare. Her victorious smirk widened as she managed to get past Gold as he picked up the newspaper, Belle nowhere in sight for her morning greeting. She held back the urge to punch the air.

Storybrooke was a routine, the same thing everyday, and she was going to master it. Come hell or high water, she would figure out how to make it work.

"Morning, Emma!" Ruby greeted enthusiastically, waving her hand around, the jewels on her nails flashing in the morning light as she opened up Granny's front doors to let in the air and entice people with its warm aroma of freshly baked goods. The scent of cinnamon and coffee drifted out to her nose, she moaned, looking down at her watch to see if she could risk getting a donut and a coffee.

She was early, wasn't she?

As she walked out again, stuffing her face with a donut in such an unladylike manner that Mary Margaret would have scolded her, she noted a dark haired man striding past her, completely at ease, and recognized him as the man from yesterday morning.

Oh, shit. If he was in front of her then her lead was running out. She finished stuffing her face because no donut left behind, chortling to herself about the usual police cliches, and walked to catch up with him.

He was at the corner, she wasn't far behind him.

He was crossing the street, she was almost at the corner, and the numbers started to countdown.

He was across the street already, the light was red, and she was standing on the corner.

She didn't make it and she blamed Ruby this time.

Day 23

Needless to say, Graham had laughed himself silly again and she had punched him in the shoulder, thrusting her still warm but not as war coffee into his hand on her way to her desk. At this rate, she would settle for getting to work on time since being early was turning into a failure more and more every day.

Her routine continued like this for several weeks, never quite beating the man with the dark hair to the corner, though she had made it before the light turned red finally. She just hadn't beaten him, he was always a step ahead of her, no matter how early she left or how much coffee and donuts she had refused.

If she could run, she would pass him. Somehow, that wasn't nearly as fun as trying to win. It was a game, one that he likely wasn't even privy to, but Emma saw the competition regardless of his knowledge, regardless of how silly the whole thing was.

During the course of the game though, she had learned a few things about him. She might not have seen his face at all, just the flash of his tousled dark hair and the point of his ears through his hair, but she knew that he didn't like coffee because when Ruby was handing out free coffee on International Free Coffee Day he had taken only a drink of it before throwing it away.

She knew he liked donuts because a bag of donuts swung from his hand the past five days.

She knew he was hot because when she passed Granny's one morning, running later than usual, Ruby was still on the steps swooning over him.

The next day, she learned he wasn't married from the way Ruby tried to throw herself at him and her friend might have had little boundaries, but she had class enough to not go after a married man. Whether he was single or not was something that Ruby had yet to determine, but the glint in her eye said that she didn't mind figuring it out.

Apparently Emma wasn't the only one who found it to be a game and that only made her feel worse because at least Ruby had spoken to him. He didn't even know who Emma was, but she was practically stopping him. Harmlessly, she scoffed at herself, because this whole thing was just a game, a trick to help her get used to a routine and what better way to do that than to challenge her?

Emma didn't back down from a challenge.

She learned the next day that he didn't either because either he had a fetish for obnoxiously large hats with flashing blue and pink hearts or he had lost a bet with someone and was paying the price for it. She tried not to laugh about it when she saw him ahead of her, nearly dismissing him as someone else until she saw the familiar messy hair. One look at Ruby's flabbergasted expression when he passed her and Emma couldn't help it, peals of laughter bursting from her lips.

Needless to say, she was late to work that day, if only because she needed to put space between them if she wanted to come to work with a straight face. She also failed at that because her lips twitched as she walked inside, shutting the door behind her, and Graham clicked his tongue, tapping his watch at her.

("You're late, Swan. Get stuck behind the light again?"

"No, of course not. There was just a spectacle in the road again." Never mind the fact that she hadn't gotten stuck behind a light because by the time she got to the corner, the rush was long gone and the man's hat was a twinkle in the distance.)

Day 29

Everything changed one morning when she passed by Ruby, who was laughing at something Whale had said, and realized belatedly that he wasn't in front of her. Nobody was in front of her and she thought she was early, but, no, there was Belle greeting Gold, a soft, loving smile on her face and a look of open affection on his, yet still no man with dark hair.

What the hell?

She wanted to say her question was about whether this counted as a win or a draw, but the real one was something as simple as where is he that made her frown. She didn't even know him, he didn't even know her, she couldn't have affection for a man when she didn't even know what he looked like.

Sure, she knew the color of his hair, the fact that his ears were a bit pointier than most ears, that he was taller than most guys but leaner, she knew that he disliked coffee but loved donuts, she knew that he had a sense of humor because when he laughed the day after wearing that hat and shit, his laughter was so attractive.

Emma, stop being a stalker. He doesn't even know her. She resigned to herself, right then and right there, her steps dragging across the concrete from reluctance, that her game was over. Because this was ridiculous, she couldn't be attracted to him even if, according to Ruby, he was ridiculously attractive - and Emma agreed because she had looked at his butt while he walked more than once, but she didn't tell Ruby this.

There were rapid footsteps behind her like somebody was sprinting across the sidewalk and she turned, frowning, sidestepping in case she was about to be run over by a hooligan, when she caught sight of his nose, his eyes (such a startling blue), the smirk on his very kissable lips. She was looking at him, for the very first time, and she agreed then that he was attractive.

Too attractive. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his when his sprint began to slow and though it only lasted a moment as he continued to jog away from her, she swear he took her breath away.

She really needed to get a hold of herself. No more, Emma.

Then he shouted over his shoulder, his sprint turning into a jog: "I've been winning for a month now, I can't stop now! Good day, see you tomorrow!"

She stared at his back, coming to a sudden stop, gaping over at him for so long that Ruby stepped away from Granny's to pat her on the back with a cackle. Whale appeared to be long gone. "See, I told you he was stupidly attractive," she said, sighing dreamily. "Shame he's always in such a rush in the morning or I wouldn't mind stopping him for a few minutes."

Emma felt her cheeks heat up and cleared her throat, muttering about having to get to work.

He was always in a hurry because he had seen the game as well.

Day 30

The next morning, he wasn't even walking when she turned the corner onto main street, adjusting a tan beanie on her head. He stood talking with Ruby, holding two cups of something in both his hands, laughing at something she said. Emma paused a little ways away, squinting at them, confused because this wasn't part of the routine, even Ruby seemed tame in comparison, talking with wild hand gestures that she reserved for friends. Were the man and Ruby friends now? Not that it was hard, Ruby was easily likeable, it was part of her charm to instantly like her.

His eyes lifted, catching hers, and once more she was struck by the blueness of his eyes. God, was is possible for somebody to have eyes like that? Not just color, but intensity. Uncomfortable, she looked away and continued walking, shaking off the goosebumps on her arms despite the warmth of her jacket. She knew better than this, after Neal and after Walsh, even after her brief fling with Graham even that ended civilly, than to allow herself to be struck dumb by another man.

"Not even going to say hello, love?" He said, appearing at her side with an absent wave at a too amused, too ready to gossip Ruby, melting her this time with his accent. Irish, clearly, but not the same as Graham's.

Then his words registered to her. "I'm not your 'love'," she said sharply.

He laughed. "Aye, not yet, but someday," he said, winking at her.

She fought the urge to punch his shoulder because not only was it childish and violent, but she was also positive that Ruby, and maybe even him, would classify it as flirting. No, she wasn't going to do that. Resist the urge, Emma. She had a lot of practice with that too. "In your dreams."

"Ah, one could hope," he retorted, his voice losing a fraction of his joviality. He turned to face her, a grin making its way across his face once more. "I don't suppose I'll learn the name of my competition? Come on, just tell me."

"Emma Swan," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Emma Swan," he repeated, rolling the name around on his tongue. Then, he struck the cup of liquid in her direction, unable to shake her hand. "Killian Jones. Here, it's hot chocolate, I'm not a huge fan of coffee."

"I know," she replied, looking at him critically, trying to decipher the motive in his eyes.

He pushed, shaking it gently at her. "And Ruby said you're a fan of both. She whipped us up some real quick. Come on, Swan, we've known each other for a month now, I think that's enough for us to get a cup of cocoa together."

"I didn't know you, we've just seen each other for a month-" No, wait, that's not what she meant! She stopped herself from finishing, frowning at the way it sounded when put like that. Like they were dating or something.

He laughed. "Well, let's count this as the anniversary date then, yeah?" He waved it under her nose again and she caught a wiff of cinnamon. Just the way she loved her hot chocolate.

She stopped walking, turning to face him. "Are you stalking me?"

The lowered, he raised his brow at her. "Pardon?"

"How'd you know how I liked my drink?"

"Like I said, love, Ruby whipped it up for us, she was quite willing when I told her it would be for you," he explained, shaking his head. "Besides, aren't you the one stalking me, you didn't even tell me about the game."

She decided right then to play dumb. "The game?"

"Yeah, the game. The race. The whatever you want to call it. I'm always in the lead so you always see more of me than I get to see of you," he said, looking her over with studious eyes, committing everything he saw of her into his memory. Like she was something precious.

She blushed under his gaze, taking the cup from him as an excuse to look away and sip it. Before she could say anything in response, or even turn her head to look at him again, he was walking ahead of her to the corner of the street, beginning to cross the road in quick, sure strides that confused her.

Until she saw the countdown and realized that he had beat her once more. Killian - 30, Emma - 0.

Day 60

If Emma expected their routine to change much after finally speaking to each, she was both right and wrong. Right in that he waited outside Granny's with a drink for her (always hot chocolate) and would talk to her about anything and everything. It was difficult at first given how guarded both of them were, but they eventually figured out which topics could be talked about (like the weather, the economy, where they worked, how long they worked, what they actually did, and so on) and which ones they should avoid (like family, which seemed to be the main thing for both of them). Wrong in that he still managed to beat her almost every time except the two times she was unlucky enough to pass him with no acceptable reason to stop and had to continue across while he talked on the phone in exasperation.

Emma was starting to realize that having the lead sucked because she didn't get to look at him at all and now whenever it seemed like she was going to get the league, she would pause and find something to do or strike up a longer than normal conversation with somebody. He must have realized this too because he stopped trying to win, content with watching her back, and that lead to her wasting a lot more time talking to people in an effort to get him to pass her. She severely underestimated his ability to procrastinate when he wanted to and ended up in an annoyingly long debate about books with Belle before giving it up when he pretended to read the newspaper.

When she finally waved bye to Belle, who couldn't look more pleased at losing their debate about Harry Potter, she walked right up to him, leaning over the railing to peek at his newspaper. It was, on her part, a brave and calculating look to see the level of their friendship after a month of getting to know each other. On his part, he merely turned his head to look at her, flashed a grin that made her pulse spike, and tilted the newspaper so she could get a better look at what he read. It was an old newspaper and, after a moment, she recognized which one it was.

"What the hell? How did you even get this?" She asked with a wince, recognizing the picture of her across the second page from when she crashed her bug into the Welcome to Storybrooke sign. Some people had only just forgiven her for it too, namely Regina Mills, Henry's adopted mother, who enjoyed making cracks about any sign she saw Emma by. She always swallowed her pride and acknowledged that it was jokes now at least.

"I collect newspapers."

"You... collect newspapers?"

"Aye, not obsessively mind you, I only keep the last two years then recycle the other ones. Unless there's important ones."

"Is this an important one?" She asked skeptically.

Correctly assuming that she thought he was a stalker for finding her first day in Storybrooke, he hastened to say, "I assure that I had no idea you were inside it, I read the paper from two years ago on the day it was printed and today happened to be the same day as it was then... That's made a lot more sense in my head."

"It probably did, yeah, but I think I got the gist of it. This is just a happy coincidence?"

"Aye. I must admit, that's a really lucky one, I had no idea you were the one who demolished our fair sign," he laughed.

She nudged his shoulder, only remembering half a second later that it was still considered flirting. "It wasn't demolished, just a little... dented... and broken. And it was not my fault, an animal ran across the road," she said with less sternness than she should have while explaining her awkward entrance into the town.

"I thought you weren't supposed to swerve."

"I had no intention of ruining my car."

"Yet you ruined your car anyway, didn't you?" He said, looking at his watch and getting to his feet.

"...Yes," she admitted reluctantly, leaning off the railing and sighing as the pressure on her stomach was eased.

"You alright there? I doubt that railing was very comfortable."

"No pain, no gain."

"Am I the gain or the pain?"

"Which one do you want to be?"

"Oh I assure you, I only want to be the gain."

"Well, you're the pain," she lied, shaking her head when his eyes lit up and his tongue swiped across his lips. She looked away, not blushing, but positive that she was blushing. "Come on, Romeo, we have to get going." Damn it, she hadn't meant- Not like we, but we as in both of them.

"I'm offended by that, I am not a Romeo who intends to get us both killed only a little while after knowing each other," he protested, offended, focusing on that part rather than the other to which she was disappointed. Only slightly though because, come on, she couldn't very well admit that we sounded nice because she didn't know him.

She patted his hand, but pulled back abruptly at the warmth and the softness and the spark it sent across her fingertips. "Yes, yes, I'm sure, Jones," she said, swallowing.

"Emma," he said quietly, shaking his head, his hand curled into a fist by his side, reluctant to continue as they began to walk. They were just approaching the line, the marked end of their game for the day, when he caught her hand. A little shock went up her fingers, but she didn't pull away, turning to face him as he tugged her closer, lifting his other hand to swipe hair behind her ear. "I say," he dropped his hand from her face, staring at his fingers as though he was betrayed, "that we should go on a date tonight and end this game."

"End it," she repeated, skin tingling, trying to sound flippant.

"Well, I'd be much more content walking with you to work rather than racing you there," he said, a hesitant smile flashing across his face, quite different from the normal roguish grin.

"Walking with me."

"I didn't realize I was trying to ask a parrot on a date," he teased, hiding the tension in his hand and the flash of hurt acceptance in his eyes.

She stared intently at him, trying to decide what to do, ignoring the fact that her heart was raising and her eyes kept flashing to his lips because, damn, did she want to feel them on her lips and on her skin. Then, he began to pull his hand away and, the decision made in her eyes, she tightened her grip on him, yanking him forward, pressing her lips against his. They were surprised and unsure, still beneath hers, until his brain caught up with him, she could feel the change abruptly as his hands snaked to hold her face, keeping the kiss gentle and sweet and, unfortunately, short before he pulled back, staring at her.

"Is that a yes?" He said, grinning at her.

"Yes," she said, shrugging, feeling the weight of stares on their back and, for once, only slightly caring.

She didn't care at all when he kissed her again, just as gentle as the first, like he was sealing a deal. He only pulled back when it was safe for them to cross the road, offering her his elbow and leading her across the street, the very first tie since their game began.