Disclaimer: I do not in anyway own Once Upon A Time. ABC, Disney, A&E, and whoever else have that distinction. All opening chapter quotes are from "Till I Found You" by Freestyle. No profit is being made, and no copywrite infringement in intended.

AN: I'm normally not a fan of AU, but it works so fantastically well in OUAT. I've read many amazing ones and just had to try my own hand at it. Reviews and constructive criticism more than welcome, as it's my first AU in a very long time, and my first in OUAT. CS as always, but with lots of other familiar characters as well. For those of you reading Stars, no worries, I haven't forgotten about this. But the idea for this story has been on the backburner for a long time, and I finally had to write it. They will both get my attention, I promise.

Until I Found You

by Lady Callista

OoOoOoO

"I had been badly hurt before.

Ever since then, I would ignore any chance for love.

I thought it was a lie."

OoOoOoO

Chapter 1:

"We're gonna miss our flight if she doesn't hurry." Ruby huffed as she loaded her suitcase into the back of her car, automatically checking that the plane tickets were in the pouch of the carry-on before she tucked it into the corner, leaving room for Granny's suitcase.

Emma chuckled as her friend brushed at her bangs in annoyance. "You make sure you've got everything, I'll go get her."

"Emma... she wants to go, right? I mean I know she'd do it for me in any case, but..."

"She wants to go, Ruby, and what's more you said she hasn't taken a vacation in twenty years." Emma grinned as she jogged back up the front steps of the home Ruby had grown up in. For the past twenty years, it had also been a Bed and Breakfast. "She's just nervous about leaving, once you guys are on the beach she'll have a blast."

"We should have picked somewhere other than the beach."

Emma stopped with her hand on the door, turning at the sudden morose tone in her friend's voice. And could have kicked herself, remembering how the last time Ruby had been on a beach she'd been with her. And so had Mary Margaret, and David, and a few of their other friends. So had Peter.

She knew what that was like, how some comment or thought would bring on a memory just when you finally thought you'd begun to move on. And Ruby's loss was much more recent than her own. "I know you're sick of hearing this, Red, but it just takes time. Take it from someone who knows."

"Cause you've moved on so well, Blondie." Emma took a deep breath, but before the barb could even fully register, Ruby was rushing up the porch to clasp her hands. "I'm sorry, Ems I'm so sorry, I just..."

"It's okay." Emma said softly, "I didn't mean you should find some hunk and have a wild affair, I just meant give yourself permission to be happy. Take the time to be with Granny, you're so lucky to have her."

"I know." Ruby reached around Emma to push the front door open, calling in an increasingly louder voice, "But if she doesn't get a move on I'm leaving her behind."

"Oh, hold your horses, girl, I'll be out in a minute. You can come get my suitcase if you want."

Emma grinned as Granny just yelled back, her voice calm and sweet, and turned to tell Ruby, "I'll get it, I'm sure she has a dozen things to remind me of again and it'll be faster if she starts now." She tossed Ruby a wink, surprised when her friend grabbed her hand as she turned away. "What?"

"You're allowed to be happy too, you know."

"I am happy." Emma smiled, and in a way, it really was true. She'd only been in Storybrooke, only known Ruby and everyone else for just over a year, and while it certainly wasn't the life she'd expected, it was the closest she'd ever come to feeling at home.

"You know what I mean." Ruby said softly.

Emma nodded, but only gripped her friends hands for a second before turning and jogging through the house to the rooms Granny kept off the kitchen for herself.

"Are you sure you can manage this, honey?" Granny asked the second Emma walked through her door.

"For the hundredth time, yes." Emma sighed as she picked up Granny's jacket from where it hung over a chair and helped the woman into it.

"Cause I could just stay for a few days, and then you or Mary Margaret could fly down, or..."

"Granny, she's had her time with us." Emma said softly, "And we understand her wanting to get away for a bit. Sometimes you just need to get away."

The accident, only a few months ago, still haunted her memories every time she drove down the road north of town towards the forest, and she hadn't been in the middle of it like Ruby had, she'd only seen the aftermath. And she'd lost a friend, whereas Ruby had lost a fiance.

"I just can't stand to see her how she's been the past few months." Granny whispered.

"I know." Emma murmured back. "You know it just takes time, and we're all doing what we can for her. But she needs this right now, and..." She heard Ruby's shoes hit the tile behind her on the way though the house and hurried to raise her voice, "And you know I'll be fine for two weeks. I can do this."

"I know you can, dear." Granny paused in the act of pulling on her gloves to give Emma a quick hug. She was one of the few people in town who knew just how well Emma understood. "It's not like we're very busy this time of year, the only reservation while I'm gone is Killi..."

"Killian Jones, I know." Emma grinned as she bent down to pick up Granny's suitcase. "He's a screenwriter who just needs a few months peace and quiet to finish a script."

"But he wants both room and board, and..."

"Granny, I know." Emma grinned as she slung her arm around the woman's shoulders and pulled her from the room. She loved the woman who had helped her out when she first came to town, she really did, but Ruby needed her more than the inn did at the moment. "You're the one that taught me to cook, well, stuff for guests anyway. Trust that you did a good job."

"Oh, it's not just that, but with only having the one guest, well, you'll be alone with a man we don't know, and..."

"You do it all the time, and in 20 years you've had what, three problems? Four? People don't come to little towns in the middle of nowhere to be idiots." Emma reminded her.

"I know, I know." Granny said as they moved down the front steps, "It's just, remember that a few years back all the tabloids were saying..."

"It's been almost five years, Granny, and it was ruled an accident." Ruby shook her head as she cut Granny off. "I saw you online, checking up on him since Emma would be alone with him, and other than having a reputation as a bit of a lady's man he's well respected in the industry."

"And we all know I can handle a Romeo." Emma flashed back briefly to a guest they'd had a few months ago, a guy named Walsh who had been sweet enough at first Emma had actully gone on a date with him, the only date she'd been on in the past year. And it had been fantastic, until he'd dropped her off at her apartment and wanted so much more than a kiss goodnight. When he'd tried to force the issue she'd put him down with first an elbow and then a knee. By the time David and Mary Margaret came down from their apartment upstairs, worried by the crash they'd heard, all that had been left for David to do was shove him out the front door.

"And if we don't get going, we won't get to Portland in time to make our flight." Ruby added as she jingled her keys.

"Besides, when did you start believing tabloids?" Emma asked as she loaded Granny's suitcase into the car and closed the trunk. "Or start judging people for their pasts?"

It took a few more minutes and more cajoling, but Emma and Red were well used to that with Granny, and then there was the round of goodbyes, but eventually the two Lucas's were off.

Emma wandered back into the house, the home, that was hers for the next two weeks. It was somewhat fitting, as it was the closest thing to a home she'd ever had. At least in the past 10 years. She'd taken a room here when she first moved into town, not that there was another option than this small inn about a mile out of town. In theory, it was Lucas Manor, but everyone in town called it Granny's. Not to be confused with her restaurant in town, which did actually bear that name.

Emma had hit it off with Ruby right away, and been basically adopted by Granny, which apparently wasn't uncommon when 'strays' came to town. There was a reason the whole town called her granny, after all.

She'd put in nearly as many hours working here over the past year as she had as a deputy, since she was only needed part time there. Her and Ruby had even run the inn, when all five rooms were full, for nearly a week when Granny had a nasty bout with pneumonia.

She knew she could do it, even if it wasn't her ideal job, but she still had to take a deep breath as she closed the front door behind her, looking around the family room. She knew the trust that Granny was placing in her, and there was no way she was going to let her down.

But her only guest didn't arrive until tomorrow afternoon, and so until one Killian Jones showed up Emma didn't have to start being an innkeeper or hostess. She knew Granny had spent the afternoon cleaning and getting his room ready, and she was on leave from the department to watch over the bed and breakfast. Which meant she had a night with nothing to do.

Emma decided to take advantage of the somewhat rare occurrence, changing into comfortable flannel pants and a tank top before wandering into the kitchen. Ruby and Granny had already eaten when she drove out after work, and she'd immediately begun alternating between listening to Granny repeat instructions she had memorized and helping her friend move Granny along. But she knew Granny, and grinned as she pulled out an individually wrapped serving of lasagna, turning the oven on to warm it and wondering if Granny would somehow know if she brought over her microwave for the next two weeks. The older woman hated them, and refused to have one in the house, despite how much easier it would make parts of her job. It wasn't that she was opposed to technology, the house had wifi and Granny updated the inn's Facebook page herself, but there was just something about microwaves.

Shaking her head at the eccentricity, she wandered back into the living room, starting a fire in the deep marble fireplace because she'd always loved it. Then she pulled up Netflix and scanned Granny's list, remembering that she'd been searching for movies by the screenwriter who was coming to stay. When the food was ready, she grabbed a glass of wine and settled in to see what kind of writer her future guest was.

OoOoOoOoOoO

He should have stayed in Portland.

The thought had been running though Killian's mind for the past hour as he navigated the dark country roads at a crawl, the combination of wind and rain keeping him from being able to see more than ten feet in front of him. What should have been a three hour drive had already taken nearly five.

He'd passed the road into Storybrooke nearly a mile ago, and wondered now if he shouldn't just go back and find an open bar. Surely someone would know of somewhere he could stay, because clearly he wasn't going to be finding Lucas Manor in this deluge.

He should have just stayed in Portland for the night as he'd planned, but he'd been strangely awake despite the time zone change from Ireland and desperately wanted to get out of the city. He could write anywhere and generally did, traveling the country and using where ever he ended up as inspiration.

He'd chosen Storybrooke in particular for his own reasons, but the pictures he'd seen of it had indeed shown him a small, quaint New England town, which was the setting he'd wanted for the murder mystery he was working on.

Killian had just decided to turn around when his headlights caught a large wooden sign sitting next to what he was fairly certain was a driveway. It was on the right and just over a mile past town, as he'd been told, but even though he could tell there was a light on the sign, it was unreadable through the storm.

He turned in carefully, following the gravel drive for nearly a quarter of a mile before, to his relief, he saw both a car and a house. He pulled his rental car in next to the old, bright yellow bug, already writing a backstory for it in his head.

It looked to be from the 60's, or maybe the early 70's and he imagined the elderly woman he'd spoken to on the phone and what she was like 50 years ago. Probably a hippie, driving the country with her friends, following bands and spreading free love and pot.

Despite the miserable drive and the fact that he was about to get very wet, the image made him smile. It might be dead on or completely off, but that was the joy of being a writer. The world could be whatever he wanted it to be, whatever he could dream of making it. If only real life worked that way.

Still grinning at the idea of his landlady in bell-bottoms and love beads, flowers in her hair, he pulled his overnight bag from the seat next to him. Everything else could wait in the trunk until Zeus got over his little tantrum.

There were no lights on in the house that he could see as he jogged to it, and he hoped Mrs. Lucas wouldn't be too upset at being pulled from her bed for an early guest. It was barely 11pm, yet he'd stayed at enough B&B's over the years to know how differently they ran from hotels. He preferred them actually, except at moments like this.

He doubted a knock would be heard over the thunder, and to his relief he found the door unlocked. If it hadn't been for the storm he wouldn't have gone in, but it was an inn after all, hopefully a late night guest wouldn't scare his landlady too badly.

He froze just inside the door, his first thought that somehow he was in the wrong place.

Lucas Manor was supposed to be the only house in the area, yet this looked simply like a home. Again, like the unlocked door, not uncommon with a B&B, but the blonde curled up on the couch, sound asleep under a throw, definitely wasn't his landlady, and there had been no cars to indicate another guest.

An empty plate and half a glass of wine sat on the floor at her feet, a fire burned low in the hearth and the credits to something rolled on the TV along with soft music, but he noticed the details only absently, struck by the beauty of the girl who looked to be roughly his age. He was just about to back out, seriously concerned he was somehow in the wrong house, when the wind whipped shut the door he'd left open in his concern.

She startled awake, sitting up at once, and he watched her eyes do a quick scan of the room before finding him by the door. "Can I help you?"

She sounded curious but not scared, which made him wonder if he had the right place after all. "I'm looking for Lucas Manor, but I'm thinking maybe I've gotten a bit lost."

"Nope, you're found." Emma replied, rubbing at her eyes as she tried to make her brain work faster. The man was barely more than a tall, shapeless shadow against the door, but his posture was non-threatening and his voice carried an accent that immediately made her think of the British lead in the romantic comedy she'd fallen asleep watching. She reached behind her to flick on a lamp, and seeing the remains of her dinner on the floor made her realize why he thought he had the wrong house. A guest wouldn't be sleeping in the living room of a B&B with dirty dishes on the floor.

And that thought made her realize that he was probably looking for a room for the night, and she rose hurriedly even as she looked back up at him and froze. He'd moved forward at some point while she was trying to wake up fully, and her first thought was that he didn't just sound like the hot lead from the movie, he looked like him as well.

He was, quite simply, one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. She couldn't make out much of his body under the leather trench that swirled around his knees, but her first thought on seeing his face was that he should be an actor and not a writer. His cheekbones were well defined, as was the jawline covered in scruff. It looked natural on him and was clearly well-kept, and matched the solemn yet full lips. His eyes were the brightest blue she'd ever seen, showing both curiosity and male interest that immediately made heat flush through her. His dark hair was plastered to his head, and she realized belatedly that he was dripping all over the carpet.

"You picked a bad night to travel." Emma broke herself out of her trance and hurried to the fire, tossing on more wood before rising to face him, cursing the blush that rose to her cheeks as he only grinned at the random statement, the twinkle in his eyes clearly showing he'd noticed her checking him out. Yet to her surprise and his credit, his eyes stayed on her face, despite the fact that she was bra-less under her thin tank top.

"I discovered that, lass." Killian took the fire as invitation, and moved towards it as he pulled his coat off. "My apologies for waking you, and I'll extend the same to Mrs. Lucas, but she's expecting me. Although not, I'm afraid, until tomorrow."

"Mr. Jones?" Emma questioned even as she took his coat automatically, moving by him to hang it on one of the many hooks by the door and grabbing a black sweater from one of them and sliding her arms into it before pulling up the zipper.

"Killian." He said automatically, eyes following her with interest as he held his hands up to the fire, grateful for the warmth after the dash through the freezing rain. She was beautiful, all slim lines and long hair, green eyes flashing with intelligence now that the sleep was mostly gone from them.

She nodded, tilting her head curiously as he pulled off his right glove and moved his hand closer to the fire, but left the other glove in place. His eyes caught her attention again, sparkling in the firelight, and she reminded herself that early or not, he was a guest. "Gran...ah, Mrs. Lucas is actually out of town for the next few weeks, but yes, we were expecting you. I can make some coffee or tea if you like, or if you just want to go up to your room..."

"I've been dreaming of tea for the last hour," Killian admitted with a chuckle, "but I don't want you to trouble yourself..."

"All part of the service." Emma smiled, having fully transitioned in her head to what Granny called company mode. Her and Ruby just called it work mode, but whatever the name it was a mindset that she slipped into with both ease and relief. It made it easier to ignore the dimple in his one cheek, the same one with the barely noticeable scar. And the way his voice lilted over his words, his phrasing obviously completely natural to him while being just foreign enough to her to be oddly fascinating.

"Even for unexpected guests, Ms..."

He trailed off again, and Emma realized belatedly that his earlier comment had been trying to get her to introduce herself. "Sorry, Mr... Killian." She corrected herself when he raised an eyebrow. "And it's Swan, but that should never be combined with Ms. I'm Emma, and I'll try to be fully awake from now on."

His grin was quick and breathtaking, and he chuckled as he answered, "It is nearly the witching hour, Emma, and I can only apologize again for waking you. I promise now that I'm here I'll be a model guest. But if you meant it about the tea..."

"Of course." Emma smiled, taking a deep breath at the way his accent caressed over her name even as she noticed his eyes flick down to her bare left hand, "I'll show you to your room, I'm sure you want to get out of those wet clothes..." She stuttered as his grin flashed again. His coat had kept his shirt mostly dry, though the black dress shirt was tailored to show that his body was far from the shadowy blob she had first seen upon waking. His dark jeans were soaked through however, and she could see dark patches on the shoulders and chest of his shirt from where his hair was dripping. "I can bring your bags in..."

He chuckled, "You'll not be going out in that, lass, and neither will I." He moved past her to the front door, absently tucking his right glove into his jacket pocket before picking up his carry-on. "I can get the rest later."

Emma nodded, and crossed the living room to go up the stairs. She wondered why he had left his left glove on, but had enough manners that she'd never ask anyone about something like that, let alone a guest. He followed her up the two flights and down the hallway, nodding as he passed her when she opened a door and reached in to flick a light switch before gesturing for him to go through.

His first impression of the room was comfort and charm. The walls were a soft, relaxing green, enhancing the nature watercolors that decorated them. From the stunning and clearly handmade quilt on the four poster king bed to the vase of buttercups on the matching oak dresser, and a scent of cinnamon and other spices that drew his gaze to a vase of potpourri on the nightstand, the room was a perfect example of why he preferred B&B's.

"This room and the other one on this floor both have doors to the bathroom, but that one's unoccupied at the moment. The doors can be locked from the inside or outside, from both rooms. We generally use it when we have families, but none of the rooms on the second floor have private baths, and since you're the only guest at the moment..."

"It's fine, lass. The room's lovely."

"Granny does a good job." Emma nodded towards the bathroom door. "There's soap and everything else you could need, and towels in the closet. I'll go put the kettle on, the kitchen is straight through the living room, or I can bring it up here if..."

"I'll be down in a few moments, if that's alright."

"Of course." Emma answered, "Just tea, or are you hungry as well?"

"This inn's reputation for hospitality is well deserved." Killian grinned as he ducked into the bathroom, blindly grabbing a towel to dry his hair. "Though at the moment just the tea sounds wonderful, although if perhaps it could be made a bit more Irish?"

Emma's grin flashed as she chucked, and Killian's breath caught at the sight. She really was just as lovely as his first impression. "Whiskey or Baileys?"

"Your choice, love, if you'll join me for a cup."

His eyes twinkled at her, and Emma had to remind herself to breath. The last time she'd been this affected by a man's mere presence had been over ten years ago, and that certainly hadn't ended well. But Ruby's words about having fun echoed in her head, and it wasn't like she would have to risk her heart. He'd only be here for two months, that wasn't enough time for her heart to be broken again. And she couldn't deny that his eyes had sparked a heat in her that she'd never thought to feel again. "Whiskey it is."

His grin was all the answer she needed, and Emma nodded as she backed into the hallway, "Welcome to Storybrooke, Killian."

She closed the door behind her, and it took Killian a long moment to shake himself from his trance, setting his bag on the dresser and pulling out a set of dry clothes. He changed quickly, contemplating a shower but feeling the first surges of jet lag starting to set in. And he wanted a little more time with his fascinating and unexpected landlady.

He hadn't come here looking for anything but a quiet place to write, and maybe an opportunity to covertly collect some evidence or at least gain some knowledge. But he was intrigued by the quiet blonde. By Emma, don't call me Ms. Swan. She'd been sleepy at first, clearly trying to wake up and focus on a conversation, but even then she hadn't been alarmed by a strange man in the room with her.

He'd seen the alertness in her body language, but she'd been polite and clearly unconcerned with his presence. Either life in a small town had left her innocent of the possible danger, or she thought she could handle any problem he posed. The second thought was more appealing than he wanted to consider... honestly, Swan was more appealing in general than he wanted to consider, and he stroked his fingers absently over his right forearm, whispering Milah into the empty room before mentally shaking himself from his stupor and tossing his wet clothes into the bathtub before heading back downstairs, his thoughts turning once again to the intriguing Emma Swan.

She'd recovered quickly for someone roused from a sound sleep, and although he'd been intrigued by her blush at what he would barely consider flirting, he'd backed off quickly when he'd seen the spark of anxiousness in her eyes. He hadn't been able to help checking her hand, but if she was married she didn't wear a ring. Which didn't mean she wasn't involved with someone, but while Killian found it hard to believe such a beauty could be single in a small town, he found himself hoping she was. And feeling guilty that he didn't feel guilty about that.

Once again he absently stroked his fingers over the tattoo under his right sleeve before adjusting the cuff on his left to make sure it tucked into his glove as he entered the kitchen. "That smells bloody amazing, love."

"It's a special blend from Cafe Aurora, best coffeehouse in town. Decaf, with herbs designed to promote a healthy sleep." Emma quoted with a grin as he took a seat at the kitchen table and she reached up to pull the bottle of Jameson from the liquor cabinet. "There's a list in your room of all the town's restaurants, shops, coffeehouses, and the like. You also, as I'm sure Granny discussed, have the option of having any and all meals here."

"Thank you." He acknowledged as she handed him a cup of doctored tea. "I flew in from Ireland, and the time difference means that when I drop, I'm likely to do so for a while. May I request a time appropriate meal whenever I'm back on my feet and we'll go from there?"

"Sounds good." Emma acknowledged, taking a sip of her own tea. She loved this blend, and sometimes the whiskey she added was the only thing that allowed her to sleep. "I'm in the first room on the second floor if you need anything and can't find me around, or press one then pound on any of the house phones to ring all the others."

He nodded, and they sat for a few minutes, drinking their tea as she answered a few questions he had about the town. When he'd finished and said no to a refill, she rose to rinse out their mugs and he headed towards the archway to the living room and the stairs.

"I certainly can't say I mind, Swan, but I hope your granny was called away for fun and not an emergency."

"She's not my... everyone just calls her Granny." Emma explained as she turned out the kitchen lights and followed him up the stairs. Still, a flicker went through her that he'd cared enough to ask. "And let's just say it was a family thing."

He nodded as she made it clear it wasn't a topic for discussion, and smiled at her as she moved out of the staircase onto the second floor. "Thank you for the hospitality, and I'll see you tomorrow."

She nodded and they said goodnight before going to their rooms.

TBC...

Please let me know what you think? It's been a very long time since I've written something like this.