The white digital numbers on the cable box flashed from 10:59 to 11:00. Right on cure, the door of the apartment opened quietly and slammed shut. Keys jingled as they were dropped on the hall table. Boots clunked into the kitchen and the door of the refrigerator rattled open. There were a few moments of silence and then the newcomer was stepping over the back of the couch to sit next to the man that was already there.

"Hey," Emma said as she settled herself in and took a swig from the bottle in her hand.

"Hello," Killian replied. His left arm, sans hook since he hardly ever wore it inside, easily wound its way around her shoulders. He glanced away from the television and down at her. "What are you drinking?" he asked.

"A beer," she answered.

Killian's lips pulled up in a grin. "No you're not," he said. He snatched the bottle away and took a long drink.

"Hey!" Emma cried indignantly. She sat forward to try to take it back. "That's mine," she snapped.

"Quiet now, wouldn't want to wake the kid," Killian smirked, using the bottle to gesture towards Henry's room. "And once again, you're wrong. This beer belongs to me."

"Does it have your name on it?" Emma asked curtly.

That was exactly what he'd been hoping she'd say. "Actually, love, it does." He turned the bottle so she could see the label.

Emma's eyes widened and then narrowed as she glared at him. "I can't believe you," she huffed. "So immature."

"Honestly, Emma," he laughed quietly, "It's Killian's brand beer. You couldn't possibly think I wouldn't take advantage of that."

"Fine!" the woman snapped. "Have your beer, I'm going to bed."

Killian almost immediately choked on his drink. He dropped the bottle on the end table and scrambled to his feet before Emma could shut the door to their bedroom. "Not without me you're not!"

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

The following day Killian got dressed, kissed Emma goodbye, and then left to walk Henry to school. After that, he made a stop at Granny's for breakfast and to check in on local gossip with Ruby. He finally made his way back to their apartment.

When lunchtime came Killian opened the refrigerator to find something he trusted himself to make without Emma or Henry present. Upon doing so, he found that every bit of food had a white sticker on it. He pulled out a pack of hotdogs. The sticker read, "Emma's." A container of leftover spaghetti was labeled in the same manner.

Desperately, Killian shifted things around until he could see his six-pack of beer bottles. He grasped the neck of one and pulled it out.

To Killian's horror, white duct tape had been wrapped around the bottle, covering up the label. On the duct tape, "Emma's."

"Well played, love," Killian sneered. "Well played."