It started with little things.

Small, subtle things that would require a bit of hard work to take note of.

But, strangely enough, it all started once he'd moved in across the hall.

Maybe she shouldn't even be blaming him. Maybe she should be blaming Ruby.

It was Ruby's fault that he had even moved into the building. Apparently they were good friends, who met at whichever bar Ruby used to work. When they'd heard that their neighbor David was looking for a roommate, she didn't even wait two minutes before calling him over.

Emma had made his acquaintance a few times before, once or twice at the bar. He'd even come over to hang out with Ruby, a fact that did not go over well with her fiance, Victor.

And why would it? He had a tall, toned body, perfectly tanned skin, thick, dark hair that could never seem to be tamed, a dazzlingly white smile, and eyes bluer than the clearest of clear skies.

Not to mention his accent. It literally turned anything he said into instant sex.

Killian Jones was everything a girl could ever want.

Thankfully, Emma Swan wasn't a girl anymore, and it would take more than a pretty face to calm her down this time.

She rolled out of bed on Sunday morning— her first day off in too long— eager to complete the crossword in her morning paper over a bowl of cereal. She settled her glasses on the bridge of her nose, deciding against her contacts, because, hey, it's the weekend.

She checked the pile of mail that was waiting for her on the kitchen counter. But, her paper wasn't there.

"Hey, Ruby?" Emma called, "Where's the paper?"

Ruby emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her chest, and another wrapped around her head. "I dunno. What's there is whatever Killian brought up last night."

Emma's ears pricked up at the mention of his name. "Excuse me, what?"

"Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you." She unraveled the towel on her head and began to dry her hair. "I gave Killian a key to our mailbox." Ruby shrugged the words off like they didn't mean anything.

"No, Ruby! Bad! Bad idea!" Emma felt as if she were scolding a naughty puppy. "You know he probably only took it to mess with me, right?"

Ruby snorted out a quick laugh. "Yeah, right. Maybe you guys oughtta fuck and just get it over with."

Emma cringed at Ruby's choice of words. "Ew. No."

But she wasn't going to lie and say she'd never thought about it…

"I'm going to get my paper." Emma huffed, to herself mostly, as Ruby was already heading back in the direction of the bathroom.

She banged on the door to apartment 3C, hoping that David wasn't still asleep. She would hate to make him suffer for the antics of his insufferable roommate.

A minute later, the door was opened by a very tired and groggy David.

"What is it, Emma?" He sighed out the words, eyes still half-closed.

"Where is he?" She asked, wanting to cut directly to the chase.

David grunted in response, turning away from the door. "Of course. The girls never come to see me. Hey, Kil!"

Emma stood in the open doorway waiting for Killian to show himself. A moment later, he was standing in front of her, wide awake and shirtless, a pair of pajama pants slung dangerously low on his hips.

When she finally saw him, Emma forgot why she'd even come. Before she could stop it, her eyes dropped to his chest, admiring the way the hair there was totally unruly, splayed out in all different directions. Her eyes fell even lower, following the trail the hair made from his chest downward, wondering what it would be like if she followed that same trail with her fingers or maybe her tongue or— wait a fucking second.

The newspaper.

When she finally returned to his face, he was looking at her with amused eyes.

"Can I help you, Swan?"

She struggled against the blush that crept up her neck as she tried to bring back some of her previous anger. "Yes, you can. My newspaper. Where is it?"

He tapped a finger against his chin, as if deep in thought. "Ah, yes." He stepped aside and motioned for her to follow him in. "I've got it around here somewhere…"

He turned away from her and her eyes followed him, watching the muscles in his back as he looked around his living room.

"Ah-ha! Found you, you sodding thing!" He brought it over to her in a mess, each section completely disturbed and haphazardly thrown together.

"What the hell is this, Jones?" Emma asked, trying to keep from shouting.

"This is your paper, my dear. I had a devil of a time trying to find the sports section."

She took the mass of newsprint from his hands, at a complete loss for words. "What?"

"I wanted to know who won the football game last night."

She gave him an angry glare. "You could've just asked me! The Giants beat the Eagles by seven."

"What?" He made a confused face, then shook his head at her. "Heavens, no. I meant real football. Or," he heaved a deep sigh and rolled his eyes, "sock-er. You yanks and your need to rename everything."

"Are you kidding me? You have to be kidding me, right?" She huffed aloud and threw the papers down onto his coffee table. "It's the twenty-first century, pal! You want to know the score, you can Google it! Not steal your neighbor's newspaper."

He smiled and walked closer to her, one hand resting just above the waistband of his pants. "Like you said, Swan: twenty-first century. Why are you even reading a newspaper?"

He had her there.

"I don't read it, I do the crossword puzzle. But that's not the point." Emma clarified, taking a step back. She felt way too vulnerable right now, and she was beginning to regret her decision to come over here in a tank top and pajama shorts. "I don't want to have to write another letter to the super about you."

Killian stifled a laugh. "Another angry letter, darling?" His eyes dropped from hers down to her chest, and she was instantly reminded of the fact that she'd not put on a bra. "I can't help but wonder if those hands of yours couldn't be put to better use." He ran his tongue over his bottom lip for emphasis, and dammit she did not just shiver.

"Just— quit stealing my paper, alright?" She turned on her heels and left, slamming his door shut behind her.

Killian chuckled to himself and laid back on the sofa, turning on the TV.

David emerged from the kitchen a moment later, a mug of coffee in each hand and a bagel seated between his teeth. He handed Killian a mug and bit the bagel before taking it away from his mouth.

"Thanks, mate." Killian sighed appreciatively as he sipped from his mug, turning his head to see David eyeing him warily.

"Is there a problem, Dave?"

David shrugged his shoulders and leaned back into the couch. "I just don't get you, man. Why do you rile her up like that?"

Killian smiled against his mug as he brought it to his lips. "Tell you the truth, I don't know. But I will tell you one thing: seeing her all angry and passionate is terribly sexy."

David scrunched up his face, stuffing more bagel into his mouth. "Whatever, Kil. As long as she's angry at you, and not me."

The next Sunday, Emma was pleased to find her newspaper perched atop the pile of mail. However, there was a note attached.

She picked it up, and read its message:

"Swan, I trust you'll find everything in order with your mail this morning. I'll admit, I was tempted to keep your paper just so that you'd come and see me again. Maybe you'll come see me anyway? I suppose it's up to you. —Jones."

She smiled at the note and its sentiments. Maybe she should stop underestimating Killian Jones' capacity for mature adult interaction.

Emma sat down at the breakfast bar, eager to start her puzzle. She picked up her pen and turned to the page it was on.

When she found the page, she dropped her pen as her mouth fell open.

That bastard.

He filled out the fucking crossword.