My holiday present for my enabler of all enablers, always-been-a-pirate! I've sold my writing soul to her for her Sharpie Killian (if you have not read her MC As Real As You Want It To Be, DO SO NOW AND THANK ME LATER) so I must give her Dr. Killian Jones until the end of time. Small price to pay to have Sharpie Killian. :)

Part 1

There weren't many people in Doctor Killian Jones' life that he could rely on - his father had abandoned him and his older brother when he was four, Liam had left him through death, his first love had left him to go back to her criminally insane husband - hell, he couldn't even rely on his own damn hand to stay attached to his arm. But the one person he knew would always be there was David Nolan. Through bar fights, irritating patients, annoying (yet sometimes hot in the case of Emma Swan) fellows, and Belle's vomit inducing Christmas parties David was there. He was Killian's best friend, the one person who had stuck with him through the loss of his hand and every rum-induced coma he had put himself in since the accident.

Which was exactly why he had to terrorize the oncologist.

Adjusting his feet on the patient's bed, Killian took another bite of his roast beef sandwich. This was by far his most ingenious prank yet. He had stumbled across something while setting up his previous prank - it wasn't his fault Dave had left the tape lying around in a double locked drawer in his office - and upon viewing it had known exactly what to do with it. It was a copy of a student film David had obviously done in college, probably in the early days of his and Mary Margaret's marriage when money was tight, and was filled with his best friend acting the part of a cheesy modern day Prince Charming in a remake of the Snow White tale.

It was an opportunity the Head of Diagnostic Medicine couldn't pass up.

Tossing his half eaten sandwich into the tray resting on the bed, he reached for his drink that was currently being held in the crook of the unconscious patient's arm. It had only taken him a few days on the computer and the printing services of the local Walgreens to bring his prank to life - 27" by 40" movie size posters of his best friend in various dramatic poses and dressed in a red doublet with a ridiculous cape. He had spent the morning pasting them in David's office and every room in the clinic (as well as a few patient rooms - they were a work of art, after all) and was now sitting back and waiting for David to find them. It didn't hurt that the timing of his latest prank would keep his morally compassed best-friend out of his hair while he dealt with an old score-

Hearing the door open Killian looked up to see the man of the hour himself walk in, briefly pause as he took in the scene in front him, and then roll his eyes.

"The man is in a coma, Killian."

Looking toward the patient Killian shrugged. "He didn't seem to mind."

"You're getting crumbs all over him!" David stage-whispered, moving toward his best friend.

"Why are you whispering?" Killian asked as David gathered the sandwich container and bag of chips off the patient. "He's in a coma, he can't hear you."

"Doesn't matter," David muttered, tossing the container in the trash can. Turning toward him the oncologist put his hands on his hips. "Actually, it does. Some people believe they can still hear."

"Then they need to put radios in the rooms, not tvs." Finishing his drink Killian sat the empty cup back in the crook of the patient's arm, ignoring David's huff. "What brings you to my sanctuary anyway?"

"Belle's looking for you," David answered, sitting in the empty chair on the other side of the bed.

"Why do you think I'm having lunch with Sleeping Beauty?"

David pinned his best friend with a hard look. "Something about her book collection and how she was going to take your other hand?"

Killian grinned. "I may have broken into her office last night and rearranged her books from Z-A."

"Such maturity," David mumbled. "Do you ever do any work around here?"

"Occasionally. Although, my fellows do most of the work nowadays, I must confess."

"Yes, your fellows," David agreed, drumming a finger on his lips. "How are things with Miss Swan?"

Avoiding the knowing gaze of his best friend Killian adjusted the brace on his left arm under his dress shirt, his mind wandering to the blonde doctor in question. Emma Swan had been one of his fellows for a year now and he could still remember the day she had literally barged into his life. He had been in the middle of conducting an interview for the last fellowship position, an act Belle had forced on him, when she had marched into his office and slammed her resume down on his desk, all flowing blonde hair and fiery personality as she demanded to know why he hadn't called her in for an interview. Truth be told he had taken one look at her resume in the earlier stages of the hiring process and deemed her too inexperienced for the job, but having the flesh and blood woman in front of him had made him second guess his first impression. She was beautiful, there was no denying that, but it wasn't her looks or the fact she was a highly skilled immunologist that had captivated him - although they certainly didn't hurt - no, it was the look in her eye. The look of a lost girl, of a soul who had endured countless loss and who had been broken until only a shell of her former self remained.

She had immediately intrigued him, his sense of a challenge tingling and he had hired her on the spot without an interview.

The past year had been spent trying to figure the elusive creature that was Emma Swan out. She was a contradiction, open and comforting with the patients but guarded and cold when it came to herself. In the beginning it had been simply to slake his thirst for a challenge, wanting to know what made her tick so he could eventually use it against her. But ever since the night of Belle's Christmas party four months ago when he had found her curled on the floor of an empty patient room crying, it had turned into something different. It wasn't about the challenge anymore but about getting to know her, to breakdown those mile high walls around her simply to see what was behind them.

It was a fact David had apparently picked up on, much to his dismay.

Feigning disinterest he replied, "The normal - she's trying to mother every patient and annoying me to no end about eternal hope for mankind." When no response came from the other side of the room he chanced a glance at his best friend, noting the contemplating look on the older man's face.

"She doesn't annoy you as much as you pretend she does. I'd almost chance to say you like her, Jones."

The statement hitting a little too close to home, Killian immediately fell back on old habits to change the subject. "I'd like to bend her over my desk, yes."

He couldn't help but smile at the scowl on David's face. From the moment the oncologist had met his only female fellow there had been a strange connection between them, David almost taking on the role of protective father and it gave Killian countless hours of enjoyment bringing that side of David out. The fact was if it weren't for David's odd fatherly affection for the blonde immunologist Killian would have slept with her long ago. She was a gorgeous woman and he hadn't exactly averted his eyes whenever a low top or short skirt came into his line of sight.

He was a doctor, not a saint.

"It's more than that and you know it," David retorted, shuddering as if the mental image of his best friend and the young fellow was revolting. "She's good for you, Killian."

It was Killian's turn to scowl. "What in the bloody hell does that mean?"

David shrugged. "Over the last few months you've been less… difficult. Belle has noticed it too, even remarked that you've taken on cases with almost no bickering." Tilting his head in thought the oncologist continued, "From her first day here you've been different but something happened recently that's completely changed how the two of you interact. You still try to goad her at every turn but it's not with your normal malice anymore. It's… it's almost lovingly done."

Before Killian could respond - not that he had a way to respond to that - the door to the patient's room opened again and it took Killian a few seconds to realise Emma herself was stood there.

"What is it, Swan? Can't you tell we're in the middle of a very important discussion about the ramifications of Pluto no longer being a planet?"

Ignoring his sarcasm the blonde immunologist walked toward him and tossed a file into his lap.

"We have a case."

"I'm sorry, I must have missed the day when I stepped down as head of the department and you took over." Despite his sharp remark he maneuvered the file so he could open it with his good hand. Quickly scanning the contents, he closed and tossed the file onto the coma patient next to him. "The burn unit can handle it."

Once again completely ignoring him Emma reached over his propped legs for the file - giving Killian an excellent view of her ass in those dress pants - before dropping the file back into his lap.

"If they could handle it they wouldn't have asked for you. Although it is telling they brought the file to me instead of you."

"That's because they know you are really my secretary," he quipped, grinning at the murderous look that crossed her beautiful face. Feeling the piercing gaze of his best friend Killian flipped the file back open and was about to suggest Belle doubling his salary if he was going to do the burn unit's job as well when something caught his eye.

"Kid's heart race is a mess," he mumbled, uncrossing his legs and moving them from the patient's bed to the floor.

"Hence why they asked for you," Emma responded, crossing her arms.

"Wouldn't tachycardia be explained by the burn?" David asked.

"I'm assuming the burn unit doctors aren't complete morons and knew that," Killian replied as he stood. Handing the file back to Emma he said, "Gather the thief of Sherwood and the sorcerer for a differential diagnosis."

"Do you even know your fellow's names?"

"Yes," Killian said, turning to look at his friend, "But when you name your kids Robin Loxley and Merlin Knight and they are both British, you are kind of expecting people to make fun of them."

Emma rolled her eyes. "So what's mine then, Swan Princess?"

Killian grinned lecherously at her. "I was actually thinking FILF - Fellow I'd Like to Fuck."

Green eyes flashing, the blonde turned and muttering about diagnosticians who needed a good punching, quickly left the room. As the door closed with a loud bang Killian looked to David and winked.

"Oh yes, I think she likes me."

She didn't care if he had tenure and was the best diagnostician in the world, she was going to kill him - but not before chopping his other hand off.

Taking a deep breath and trying to purge her mind of murderous thoughts towards a certain blue eyed doctor, Belle picked up a book from the pile of books on her office floor and glancing at its cover, sat it in a separate pile. She had spent the last two hours alphabetizing her book collection from Killian's little stunt and she still wasn't even halfway done. Her office looked like a library had exploded in it with various stacks of large, leather bound books piled on her desk, end tables, couches, and even the windowsill. How the man had completely reorganized her vast collection in a few hours by himself and with one hand she would never know.

She was most definitely not impressed. Okay, she was a little, but she was still going to murder him.

As she reached for a first edition Lougraime's Anatomy she heard the door to her office open. Glancing up Belle saw one of the clinic nurses, Ruby, stick her head in.

"We need an audio visual set up for the lecture hall," the brunette announced with a smile.

Sitting the book down in the designated L pile on the end table Belle asked, "What for?"

"For the lecture."

Belle blinked at the nurse in confusion. "What lecture?"

"Dr. Gold's lecture." Ruby reached into her scrub pocket for a folded piece of paper. "He's a neurologist. The memo you sent out said he'd be giving a lecture on some new migraine prevention medicine this afternoon."

Pausing as she reached for another book Belle narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Can I see that memo?"

Walking into the office Ruby handed the paper to her. Opening it Belle scanned the contents of the memo detailing this Dr. Gold's lecture time and the list of staff that was required to attend, her eyes falling on her signature at the bottom. Only it wasn't her handwriting - only one person in the entire hospital wrote in that fancy style.

"I'm going to kill him."

Ruby smirked knowingly. "Dr. Jones?"

"Yeah," Belle replied as she stood, moving around the piles of books. "Ignore the code blue that's going to be called from his office. It's just going to be a doctor being choked to death by a former librarian."

"Oh yes!"

Watching the EEG machine of the comatose patient light up like a Christmas tree, Killian grinned widely. Gotcha, Crocodile! Humming to himself in delight Killian picked up the patient's chart to document the new medication that had been administered, carefully balancing the clipboard on his maimed arm. He had been waiting for this moment for years, quietly biding his time for the Crocodile to make a mistake and he finally had. Revenge was going to be swift and glorious.

Hearing the door to the patient's room open, he didn't have to look up from his charting to know Belle had finally found him, the click-click of her impossibly high heels announcing her presence. Really he was shocked it had taken her this long to track him down.

"Did you issue this memo?"

Ignoring the irritated question from his boss he sat the patient's chart back down. "Look at that."

"The patient that has been in a coma for two years and counting is still in one, congratulations" Belle observed, thrusting the memo into Killian's hand. "This is not my signature. I don't know anything about this Doctor Gold and I'm suppose to introduce him? Make nice over-" She paused in her tirade, eyes glued to the EEG machine. "The coma patient has a migraine?"

"Oh, no," Killian responded, turning to smile at the petite brunette. "I gave him medication to prevent a migraine."

Belle shook her head, pointing toward the machine flashing a multitude of red lights now. "That's a migraine, Jones. Increased flow velocity in his cerebral arteries…"

"Well, I did subsequently give him nitroglycerine which could possibly-"

Belle turned to stare at him. "You induced a migraine headache in a coma patient?!"

"I gave him a little headache," Killian corrected, emphasizing his point with a finger, "Similar to the one you're giving me now, actually."

Belled rolled her eyes. "Have you even read an ethical guideline?"

Scoffing and raising an eyebrow he responded, "Well if you are to try out a new migraine prevention medication on someone who can actually feel pain-"

"Wait." Belle held up her hand, blue eyes narrowing as she stared at the Englishman. "Does this have anything to do with Doctor Gold and the fact he's releasing a new migraine prevention medication?"

"Of course not," Killian replied quickly, perhaps too quickly if the knowing look in Belle's eyes was any indication. "I'm just doing my due diligence as a doctor."

"Yes, because you are suddenly Doctor of the Year and care if a migraine prevention medication works."

As Killian went to respond with a witty remark about how he, in fact, did care if medications worked considering 90% of his job relied on medication working properly, his pager went off. Handing the memo he had yet to glance at back to Belle he looked at his pager.

"Oops, got to pop out, love."

"Killian…"

"Really, Belle," he mockingly admonished as he moved to leave the room, "You complain when I don't do any work and then you complain when I do."

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know, I thought I might do a little light doctoring this afternoon," he responded with a sarcastic smile, quickly exiting the room before the brunette could ask him any more questions.

None of this made sense.

Emma stared at the whiteboard, her eyes roaming back and forth from abnormal heart rate to seizure. There was no telling if the two symptoms were related to the 40% body burns the kid had received or if he had experienced either of them prior to his accident. They couldn't just ask him because of the medically induced coma the burn unit had him under and even if he survived infection from the burns, both symptoms could be the beginning of a much larger problem if they didn't catch it in time. Add all that to the fact she was sure Jones was going to have a sarcastic comment about how the last procedure ended-

"I know you found my nickname for you repulsive Swan but did you really have to go and electrocute my patient in retaliation?"

- And there it was.

Glaring at Jones as he walked past the table and straight into his office - she only let her eyes wander down to his jean-clad ass briefly (she was only human, after all) - she briefly wondered why on Earth she put up with him.

In the year she had been working for him she had been subjected to every innuendo under the sun (and he was coming up with new ones daily), snide remarks on how she handled their patients, and more than once had been put in physical danger. And yet she was still here, sparring with him and putting up with his lewd remarks that she would have punched any other man for making. She could tell herself it was the pay (ha!) or the experience she had gained from working under one of the best diagnosticians in the world, but the truth was he had somehow endeared himself to her.

It hadn't been like that in the beginning - no, in the beginning he had been obnoxious and had driven her to almost quit (she still had the sixteen letters of resignation on her computer, each one listing a different reason why he had driven her to resign), but ever since Belle's Christmas party his behavior toward her had changed. It had been subtle at first - him not cracking a sexual joke when a male patient grabbed her ass, genuinely listening and agreeing with her in a non sarcastic way when it came to a particularly hard diagnosis - but when he started surprising her with hot cocoa some mornings she had really begun to notice the change in how he interacted with her. The innuendos were still there, like his sexist nickname for her this morning, but they were few and far between nowadays and with less malice.

And if she was being honest with herself, she had put up with every sexual remark and danger to her life long before his behavior toward her had changed because she had seen something in him from the start. Beyond the devastatingly good looks and sharp wit lay a man who had been scarred many times over, and not in the physical sense. It was something that called to her own broken soul, a kindred spirit who had seen the worst of what the world had to offer and was just as screwed up as she was.

It was comforting in a way to know she wasn't the only one walking around hiding her scars, and was the driving reason she had never emailed a single one of those resignation letters - although the temptation had been great.

"He had a seizure," Merlin pointed out, breaking Emma from her internal thoughts. Shaking her head slightly she got up to follow her co workers into Jones' office where the diagnostician was rummaging through his book case.

"So if we go with the theory that Swan didn't electrocute him-" Emma had to bite her cheek to keep from throwing something at his dark head as he moved from the bookcase to his desk drawer, "What does the seizure tell us?"

"What on Earth are you looking for?" Emma asked as he opened drawer after drawer.

"Same as you - love, acceptance - although at the moment I'm looking for my bloody rum."

"Fourth book from the bottom, the green lupus book."

Jones paused in searching through his top desk drawer and looked up at her, a dark eyebrow raised. "How do you know where I keep my secret stash of rum, Swan?"

Emma rolled her eyes. Really. "You like pirates. Of course you have a couple of hollowed out books with bottles of rum in them like some kind of pirate's treasure."

Jones pursed his lips as he stared at her. "That kind of observation requires a great attention to detail," he said, a cocky grin spreading across his face. "I knew you couldn't resist my good looks, love."

"You're an alcoholic, Jones - doesn't take a genius to know you'd have a secret stash in your office."

Robin sighed from his chair in front of Jones's desk. "Are we going to listen to you two banter back and forth for an hour or are we going to try to find out why the kid seized?"

"Could be epilepsy or seizure disorder?" Merlin suggested as Jones moved back to his bookcase.

"Not with the tachycardia," Emma replied, internally rolling her eyes again as she watched Jones locate the lupus book, cradle it on his bad arm and pull the small bottle of rum out with a large grin. "It could be a virus in his brain."

Merlin side eyed her. "Your specificity is impressive. Adrenoleukodystrophy."

Tilting his head in thought and ignoring the smacking sound of his boss's lips as the diagnostician took a large swing of alcohol Robin said, "Could be MS, seizures could be caused by plaques and lesions on the brain."

Placing the bottle back and re shelving the book Jones said, "Well let's find out which, get an MRI."

"No nuclear imaging," Robin pointed out, earning him a scowl from his boss. "He wouldn't survive the move to radiology so MRI and CT scan are both out."

Jones sighed as he ran a hand through his dark locks, completely disshelving them to a point that made Emma wonder if that was what he looked like after a good round of sex before quickly slapping herself internally for the thought.

"Ok," the diagnostician replied as he shuffled through the papers on his desk, "A lumbar puncture will tell us if his proteins are elevated and at least we can exclude MS."

"Can't do a lumbar puncture either," Merlin cut in, causing Jones to mutter 'bloody hell' under his breath.

"Don't tell me, no skin on his spine."

"We'd be inserting a needle into an area that's teeming with bacteria," Merlin replied. "If he doesn't have a brain infection already, we'd give him one for sure."

Emma shrugged. "There's no other way to look at a brain."

"Transcranial doppler sonography."

"She said brain, not pregnant woman's uterus," Merlin dead panned, "They do sound alike though."

Jones glared at him as he picked up a file from his disaster of a desk. "So sorry the rest of us can't use our sorcerer magic to look at a brain, oh great Merlin."

Robin shook his head. "You're not going to get a diagnosis of MS from a sonogram!"

Jones sighed as he made his way toward his office door. "Not definitively but patients with MS have more reactive neurons in their occipital cortex." Pausing when he reached the doorway he turned back toward them, blue eyes moving between each of them. "No rebuttal to that? Good, I've somewhere to be."

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" Emma asked, eyes narrowed at him. The man never rushed off to do anything unless it was to drink rum or spend half the day at a strip club.

"I've a lecture to attend Swan!" he called back as he walked out of his office, leaving his three fellows looking after him with baffled expressions.

Sitting in the lecture hall, Killian was reminded of why he never attended these things.

To begin with they were down right boring with over inflated doctors droning on and on about some new miracle medicine or how a specific procedure had saved lives. He wasn't against saving lives - he was a doctor, after all - but his philosophy was you learned from action in the field, not sitting in a cushioned chair while another doctor described something. The setting always reminded him of medical school when he had to sit there and listen to a lecture when all he wanted to do was get his hands dirty. He wanted to be where the action was, to see what the disease was doing and put the pieces together like a puzzle until he had the answer.

The room was also stifling hot, although that possibly was because of his current wardrobe. He needed to blend in with the sea of faces around him until the last possible minute and his normal attire was very… distinctive. Not many doctors went around the hospital in jeans, t-shirt, and a vest after all. He had nicked a lab coat from the surgical lounge on his way to the lecture hall along with a pair of aviator sunglasses and his own red hat that read 'It's A Pirate's Life for Me'.

He hated attending these things - and he certainly never gave lectures, no matter how much Belle pleaded - but he was willing to make an exception to see his revenge unfold.

Killian watched as Belle fumbled her way through introducing Dr. Gold, clearly still not sure what the doctor was doing at their hospital and he felt a momentary pang of guilt for deceiving the brunette. Despite their back and forth and her constant attempts to reign in his reckless doctoring style, she was one of the few people who had stood by him over the years. The feeling quickly passed though as the side door opened and the man of the hour walked in.

Robert Gold, top Neurologist and founder of the Gold Center for Pain was every bit the crocodile Killian remembered him to be. In his early 50's, the doctor was dressed in a tailored black suit with a dark purple shirt and matching tie, looking more like a loan shark out to collect a debt than a man who studied people's brains. Which on thought, was a fairly accurate description of the ego-hungry neurologist considering what he had taken from Killian, both professionally and privately.

Killian's jaw clenched as a phantom pain shot up from his missing left hand, and he forced himself to concentrate on the impish doctor through the physical reminder of what Robert Gold had taken from him. Gold was cracking a joke about not remembering Belle's name which earned Killian a glare from the tiny brunette. He raised a dark eyebrow in answer but the amused grin that started to spread over his lips faltered as her annoyed glare flickered to a knowing look as she walked past him.

He didn't have to wait long to find out what that look had meant as he felt someone sit next to him. Turning he saw David staring at him in utter confusion as Gold began to recount his professional background.

"What in the hell are you wearing?"

"I hear doctor's tend to wear these white things to show their prominence among the lesser social classes."

David continued to stare at him. "And the sunglasses and ridiculous hat you got in Disneyworld?"

"Sudden chills and light sensitivity - inexplicable," Killian replied before glaring at his best friend through the dark glasses. "And this hat is not ridiculous, it's a national treasure that Johnny Depp touched."

"That's because it was his and you stole it from him!" David whisper-hissed.

Killian shrugged. "Semantics. What the bloody hell are you doing here anyway? Don't you have patients to coddle or an office to sit in and research ways to not let them die?"

David turned his attention to Gold. "Belle found me while I was on my rounds and told me about your little memo forgery. She figured this guy was important for some reason if you went to the trouble of getting him here and are willingly attending one of these things."

Killian started to make a witty comeback but in the silence after David's response Gold took that moment to divulge his medical school background.

"I received my medical degree at Johns Hopkins University, where I studied under Pan and Cora."

David looked thoughtful. "Hmmm, he must be good. You went to Hopkins and studied under Pan and Cora."

"Shhh!" Killian whispered, looking back down at his notes. He didn't needed his morally compassed best friend to figure out-

"This helped me to win the Doyle internship at the Mayo Clinic."

"You were suppose to get the Doyle internship but didn't because-" Killian could tell the moment realization dawned on the oncologist and he chanced a glance at his best friend just as David turned to him, eyes wide. "That is Robert Gold? The guy who cost you to lose your hand when he found out you were having an affair with his wife?"

"Thanks for the reminder there, Dave."

David ignored him, more pieces of the puzzle falling into place. "That's Milah's husband?"

"Aye," Killian replied tensely.

David looked between him and Gold as the neurologist moved on to his work of preventing migraines. "Why on Earth would you invite him, let alone sit through a lecture from him after everything he did to you?"

"Because he's a bad scientist who deserves to have his professional life mucked with," Killian said through gritted teeth. He hadn't known David in his early medical school days, only meeting the oncologist after the accident that had caused him to lose his left hand. David knew the entire torrid story though of young love and betrayal, the real reason Killian so frequently sought the bottom of a rum bottle. The physical pain of his injury had dulled over the years but the emotional scars left behind by his first love's betrayal were still very much present for the diagnostician. However he knew his best friend, knew that David had never had a vile thought about another human being in his entire life, and was certain he was about to get a lecture on letting past grievances go.

"So you've stalked him for the past five years just for this shot to humiliate him?"

"Revenge is a dish best served cold," Killian muttered as Gold began to talk about control subjects and two-way ANOVAs. "He doesn't even know what that means."

David sighed. "You're going to interrupt him, aren't you?"

"If I have question, yes."

Side eyeing him David asked, "And what's that going to accomplish, exactly? Other than making yourself look like an ass which you have a host of degrees in."

Killian huffed in annoyance. "Why can't you just let me enjoy this, Dave? Why can't you be happy for me?"

"Because normal human beings don't plot out revenge, Killian, even if the guy deserves it," David whispered, shaking his head as he crossed his arms. "You have got to find less debilitating outlets than humiliating people - especially Emma. She's going to punch you in the face one day, you know. I hear bowling is more fun than stalking."

"Can't bowl with one hand, mate," he said, wiggling the fingers of his good hand. "Although there is plenty I can do to the Lady Swan with just one-" the murderous parental glare David shot him had Killian clamping his mouth shut, once again wondering why David was so damn protective of Swan. "Besides, I'm better at this."

Before David could reply Merlin appeared in the aisle next to Killian, taking only a second to be confused by his boss's abnormal outfit before crouching down. "We found a subarachnoid bleed."

"Bleed in the head isn't causing seizures," Killian muttered, eyes glued to Gold's back as he wrote on the board.

"It could be," David interjected, "10% would damage the cerebral cortex and cause a seizure."

"Or bacterial meningitis," Merlin supplied.

David leaned forward in his seat slightly to look at Merlin. "Viral encephalitis?"

Merlin shrugged. "There's no way to tell without-"

"Will you two shut up!" Killian exclaimed, a little louder than he intended. Really, what did a guy have to do to get some peace and quiet while he enacted his revenge? He immediately saw Gold turn around, eyeing the three of them with disdain. "Do you mind not interrupting my lecture?"

"Because it's so rife with medically acclaimed parlor tricks?"

David groaned. "Oh God, no."

"Excuse me?" Gold asked, snapping the lid of the marker back on. The air in the room thickened and Killian licked his lips at the taste of revenge just within his reach.

"We'll figure out why later," he whispered to Merlin, never taking his eyes of Gold. "Fix the bleed or he dies - talk to you in a few hours."

He waited until he heard the door of the lecture hall close before clearing his throat. "I have a question, doctor."

"He knows his field better than you do," David muttered, trying to hide his face behind his hand.

Killian ignored him, his pen steadily beating out a rhythm on his notepad. "It's always been my understanding that unless you follow a daily regimen, no drug can prevent a migraine."

"That's why they call it a breakthrough, dearie," Gold sneered.

"Actually, you're the only one calling it a breakthrough."

"On the contrary," Gold responded, setting the marker back on the podium like a man who was about to deal out an assassination rather than defending his work, "The pharmaceutical company sponsoring my clinical trails also hails it as a breakthrough."

Killian scoffed. "I'm sure your wife and lawyer do too." Tilting his head he asked, "Is there anybody who doesn't stand to make a fortune from it calling it a breakthrough?"

Gold studied him for a long moment. "Who are you?"

"Just a lunatic who desperately needs a hobby," David muttered, non-to-gently knocking his leg into Killian's, a sure sign for the diagnostician to shut up already. But Killian could taste the moment he had been waiting years for, and nothing short of a crew of pirates was going to stop him now.

"And, how exactly did these studies work? You give this drug to a bunch of people and if they don't get a migraine you go 'viola, my drug works?' Just curious, one scientist to another."

Gold straightened his tie. "We had a very specific control group-"

"Yeah, in India," Killia scoffed, once again ignoring his best friend's attempts to shut him up, "Where we know the law of medicine isn't as rigid."

Slowly beginning to make his way up the steps with his cane, Gold asked, "Do I know you?"

"I know your skills at having politicians in your back pocket helps you advance your shoddy medical career."

"Touche," David reluctantly muttered.

"You sound familiar," Gold mused, continuing to make his way toward Killian.

"Now, what I want to know is why you published it in an obscure journal in India if it was such a breakthrough. Why not publish it in a respected American medical journal so the masses would flock to you?"

"Neuroscience New Delhi is a respected journal."

"Get a hooker, volunteer part time as a Captain Hook entertainer," David muttered, "Anything but this."

"I'm sure it is," Killian conceded with a nod, "But it's also the perfect place to publish a half baked 'miracle breakthrough' because you can just bribe anyone there. Isn't that right, Gold?" Killian could see David facepalm beside him but he couldn't back out now, not when the imp was so close to getting what he deserved.

"I know I know you," Gold muttered, shrewd eyes locked on Killian and his ridiculous disguise.

"Ah, that you do, crocodile."

"The name's Robert," Gold responded, coming to a stop directly beside Killian.

"My apologizes, it's something to do with your face. Or perhaps your penance for taking people's left hands."

He saw the moment realization dawned for Gold, dark eyes flashing with unrestrained hatred as he leaned heavily on his cane.

"Jones."

"In the flesh - well, mostly in the flesh," Killian replied cheekily, waving his prosthetic hand around.

"I see you haven't changed since your medical school days, still trying to goad bigger fish than you."

"And you're still an egotistical demon who will try to murder someone to further his own career."

There were a few gasps around them, and Killian took pleasure in knowing others would know what kind of doctor Gold really was.

"Your accident was no one's fault but your own, dearie," Gold calmly replied, and it took every ounce of self control Killian had not to stand and punch the man with his one good hand. "You were the one who got behind the wheel of that car drunk."

"I was sober," Killian growled through clenched teeth. The bloody crocodile would not win this! "You hired someone to tamper with my car and then completely ignored your hippocratic oath by refusing to save my hand!"

Gold laughed. "And how exactly do I have the resources to pay someone to do that? I am nothing but a simple neurologist trying to help people."

"The bloody hell you are!" Killian snapped, "You used your connections to the mob to pay the authorities to look the other way, same way you're paying the pharmaceutical company to look the other way now because your drug doesn't work!"

"You would like to believe that dearie because it plays right into your fantasy."

"Unlike you I'm a doctor who cares, which is why I tested it."

"Oh really?" Gold sneered, his cane tapping the ground. "What were your parameters? Where's your study?"

Bloody hell this wasn't going how he had envisioned it. Quickly throwing David a look and praying his best friend kept his mouth shut he replied, "Room 2134."

Gold scoffed. "One patient?"

"The coma patient?!"

Killian gave David a murderous look, one the oncologist couldn't see through the sunglasses Killian still wore.

"You really haven't changed," Gold chuckled, "You tried to take what wasn't yours in Med school and you're trying to take something of mine again. It won't work, dearie." Leaning forward Gold continued, in a whisper that only Killian and David could hear, "My wife does send her regards however, Jones, considering how thoroughly I fucked her last night. Something you could never give her she says."

Killian saw red at Gold's words and if it weren't for David's hand shooting out and holding his arm in a vice-like grip, the diagnostician would have been out of his seat and decking the grinning neurologist. Instead he was forced to struggle against David's hold as Gold walked away, grinning like the crocodile he was.