Wow, it's really been a while since I wrote. School caught up and a lot happened, so writing just drifted away from me. I came back here with an idea, but really my writing sucks more than ever. Anyway, I hope you still enjoy. :)

If she heard another giggle, she knew she wouldn't be able to handle it anymore.

For God's sake, they were right across the hallway! Surely the walls would be able to muffle the noises the other class was making because of Killian-freaking-Jones. And the fact that he looked as if he just came out of a shower with that messy flop of dark hair was making her blood boil (take note that she was annoyed and not attracted to the man). Then she remembered the class he was teaching right now.

Latin dance.

That meant 95% of his students were his fangirls (there were some fanboys from tine to time). That also meant more noise and more giggling. Then she heard his lilting voice asking his students for any volunteers to demonstrate the steps to the class.

There it went. She was certain everyone was starting to shift around, flicking their hair, batting their eyelashes, puffing out their chests. Disgusting. Then more giggles. Ugh. She tried to ignore the sounds and continue with her own class, but when she heard them squeal. Oh God, she just couldn't handle it anymore.

She brought her whistle to her lips and blew a bit harder than usual, making sure that it reached the other room. The silence that came after it was enough to make her feel better and continue her own class. Okay, now she was certain that the whistle works and, maybe made sure to use her whistle every single time he was having a Latin dance class beside her class for the next few days. You really couldn't blame her when their noise was making her distracted from her own class.

And of course, he had to tease her about it like he always does during their breaks.

"You've been using that whistle quite a lot, Swan." he said to her one time.

She made a show of patting the whistle around her neck. "What can I say? I love my whistle."

He chuckled, and nope, she wasn't going to say that she was affected by the sound. "It is a fine piece of work, love, but you know what I mean."

She just shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I do need to talk over the noise from the other class."

The bastard laughed, the deep sound sending shivers down her spine. Before he left the office, he called out to her. "It's all in the day's work, hm?" he winked at her.

Bastard.

It was really no secret that the majority of the school population knew the hot PE teacher teaching physical fitness and Latin dance a.k.a. the bastard that is Killian Jones. They were in a university for crying out loud. These kids aren't even kids anymore. They're already adults who were in touch with their sexuality and not afraid to show it. She'd honestly be surprised if no one knew of the hot teachers around the campus. Not that she was implying that she finds him hot. Just nope.

She knew he had almost all the girls under her spell. Even a portion of the male population wanted him. There was no way he was going to run out of classes because she was sure that everyone was scrambling to get a spot in his class.

But if the female population had Killian Jones to get crazy over, the male population had Emma Swan. Golden blond hair. Green eyes. Lean muscles. She looked like a model with her attractively angular facial features that spoke of softness and hardness at the same time. Some people called them "Captain Swan". That really didn't make sense to her. The "Swan" part was pretty obvious, but "Captain"? Someone told her it was because most of his photos on social media had something to do with the ocean. (See? He has plenty of stalkers and she's not one of them.)

But they really weren't a couple. Not when, they were both in a different relationship.

Yep, both in a happy relationship. A happy one.

Speaking of a relationship, her phone rang in the faculty office now full of people, preparing to go home. An old photo of her boyfriend lit up on her screen.

"Hey, babe." His voice spoke on the other end.

"Hey." she said in a low voice.

"I'm free tonight. Wanna go out for dinner?" Neal replied.

"Sure."

"Meet you at Granny's?" he asked.

And Emma tried to stop the sound that was coming up her throat. It wasn't that she didn't like Granny's. She actually loved it. The food's good and the discount Granny had for her always didn't hurt. But she had to admit, it wasn't the most private and date-worthy place, and maybe she wanted a bit of pampering on some days.

She mentally sighed. Still, a date was better than no date. "Pick me up at 7?"

"Of course, babe."

"Bye." she said, quickly ending the call before she heard those three words once more. Words that she still wasn't ready to say even though they've been together for almost a year.

Well, sleep was going to have to wait. She had a date, after all. She grabbed her bag and went straight for the shower room, wishing no one was using the showers when she got there. With a sigh, she pulled her arms over her head, stretching the sore muscles of her back. She then pulled her shirt above her head.

She was about to pull her tights down when she heard a surprised yelp. That sounded like a man's voice. She whipped her head to the direction of the sound and found herself looking into a pair of bright blue eyes, wide with horror.

She quickly grabbed her towel and wrapped it around herself. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, feeling her face heat up both in anger and in embarrassment.

Killian turned his head to the side with the unmistakeable pink tinge on top of his cheeks. "I-Swan, you do realize that..." He paused to scratch the back of his ear, a habit she had grown to notice when he was nervous.

She crossed her arms over her chest in a defiant position. "That?" she said in a challenging tone.

He cleared his throat. "That this is the men's shower room."

It felt as if cold water was splashed on her. She stood there frozen as Killian shifted uncomfortably, cheeks still burning red as he avoided looking in her direction.

"Wh-what?" she stuttered.

He huffed and turned around instead, unable to bear the awkwardness of the situation. "I suggest you cover yourself up before, ehm, someone else comes in." he said with a slight tremble in his voice.

It took her a few seconds before she realized what she was supposed to do. She quickly put her clothes back on, and caught sight of the man standing by the door with his back to her. She studied the muscles etched on his back as he brought his hand to scratch behind his reddened ear once more.

Her eyes widened.

Honestly, she didn't expect him to be flustered at the sight of her. Well, maybe he would be shocked but not flustered like he was right now. She was certain he'd seen many women naked now. She wasn't even full naked.

More importantly, her body was exposed to someone and of all people, Killian Jones. No one had to know. If people knew, her reputation was going to be ruined. Word would spread. Words would turn into rumors and rumors would turn into scandals. The whole school would know and, she can't lose her job. Not when she was starting to climb back up from her past.

"Hurry, Swan. I think someone's coming."

His voice pulled her out of her thoughts, and her eyes fell on him, still facing away from her. As she walked towards the door, she was trying to arrange her thoughts, trying to come up with something to say, without making her look like a fool (actually she already was one).

Their shoulders brushed as she exited the room, causing to pause for a moment. Gathering her courage, she opened her mouth to say something. To say anything.

Then he started. "Don't worry about me, Emma. I can keep my mouth shut."

Emma. He used her first name. Her name on his lips almost sounded foreign, yet it also sounded so right that a part of her longed to hear it roll off his tongue once more.

And it felt like they were standing too close.

She could smell his scent, a mix of dust and sweat yet there was something spicy underneath that scent that screamed Killian Jones - almost like the sea. It was surrounding her, overwhelming her senses. She could feel the sparks that went down her spine as the hairs on the back of her neck stood. Then his mouth opened to take his bottom lip between his teeth. Damn it! Her body was reacting so much to him. Even though his body language said something else, his eyes (those goddamn eyes) told her so much more. They told her promises of honesty and sincerity, and her whole body was growing numb under his silent gaze. It's just too much.

And she did what she did best. She ran away.

That night, she was trying really hard to enjoy the food, Neal and everything. To just enjoy the date with her boyfriend, but she really couldn't, not when her mind kept returning to what had happened earlier and to those bright blue eyes.

After the incident, she found herself hoping that each day would be as normal as any other day. A part of her was always preparing for the awkwardness that would come between them. But it just never really came. He would still greet her with a smirk. He would tease her during breaks. He would disturb her class with the noise his class was making.

It was as if nothing had happened.

Really, if she was being honest, it was irking her. Still, she kept on telling herself that it was for the better. They were both ignoring the incident, and that meant she would be able to keep her reputation. He, on the other hand, well, had a way to blackmail her (she really hoped he would never). It was a win-win situation for both of them, so she told herself it was for the better.

Then the day had to come. Of course.

Emma didn't only teach sports, she also taught Latin dance. Yes, Latin dance, just like Killian Jones right there beside her. Every year, the finals for all dance classes was a recital in front of an audience. Oh, that was fine. The fun part was that they were the teachers, and it had already become a tradition for all the teachers to perform a dance as well. The only ones teaching Latin dance was him and her.

So here they were standing in the middle of an empty room, preparing for their routine. They were professionals, for god's sake, so she closed off all thoughts of what could happen and focused on their routine. Soon, the board was filled with steps and transitions to guide them as they tried the routine.

"Ready, Swan?" he asked as he held his hand out.

Not wanting to say something stupid, she just placed on top of his warm hand.

The thing is Killian Jones was a complex man, more complex than you could imagine. He was different as a PE teacher, as a colleague, as a friend, the list could go on, but Killian Jones as a dancer was something else. There was something about him when he danced that makes him seem so much more than the man that teases her endlessly.

The way he moves. The way his face softens. The way his whole being just lights up in flames and it felt as if she could see the man underneath the bravado.

The joy. The sadness. The peace. The pain. Everything. And that scared her. it scared her so much because the more she saw the more she understood the connection between them. That maybe they weren't so different after all. That he was a kindred spirit. That he was just like her.

The warning bells inside her head just went off, and she pushed aside everything to focus on the steps instead.

"Swan, are you alright?" he asked her, steeling his arm to stop their movements. "Do you need a break?"

And the sincerity in his eyes and voice just oozes out. This wasn't the Killian Jones she was prepared for. She didn't think she would ever be prepared for this version of him.

"I'm fine." she said, her tone a bit too harsh for her own taste. If he noticed it, he didn't comment on it and just took her hand to start the routine over again.