Inspired from the lyrics of Lucinda Williams' 'Those Three Days.' Title also taken from the same song. Thanks to the lovely tnlph and lenfaz for letting me bounce an early version of this fic off them. Thanks also to lifeinahole27 and justanotherwannabeclassic for their beta services and reading multiple drafts. This fic is all the better for your input.

You built a nest inside my soul
You rest your head on leaves of gold
You managed to crawl inside my brain
You found a hole and in you came

You sleep like a baby breathin'
Comfortably between truth and pain
But the truth is that nothing's been the same
Since those three days

Did you only want me for those three days?
Did you only need me for those three days?
Did you love me forever just for those three days?

He laid on the deck of the Jewel, stars twinkling above and the occasional wisp of cloud obscuring them. The shallow waves of the bay rocked the ship from front to back. Killian gave thought to getting up to turn ninety degrees, but instead tipped his head and drained the remaining contents of his flask down his throat.

He shouldn't have come back.

Robin had called, though, and Killian couldn't deny him of all people. He was his only family with Liam long gone and he'd be damned if he left Robin alone now that Marian was gone as well.

And seven years should have been enough time to heal a broken heart, right?

It was the sound of the unsteady slapping of small feet on the deck that pulled him from his brooding and he turned on his side to find Roland wobbling towards him. He reached out as Roland neared and the boy dropped next to him, tucking himself into Killian's chest.

"You all right, lad?" he whispered.

Roland nodded but a sniffle racked his chest and Killian soothed his hand along his small, protruding belly.

He began to hum, hoping to unlock a tune from the recesses of his brain. He was struggling to recall what it was his mother used to sing to him, the opening notes eluding him. He settled instead for starting in the middle, and as he went the remaining notes came back and he sung quietly against the crown of Roland's head.

"She's the sheriff?" he asked Robin as they both nursed cups of coffee at the diner the next morning.

Robin shrugged and held another sugar cube at the surface of his coffee, watching the color bleed across before dropping it in.

"How long has she been back?"

"A few years. Graham had hired her as a deputy, before, you know," he said with a frown. "Not sure how he found her."

Killian wondered if anyone would notice if he drained his flask into his mug.

"I'm sorry," Robin continued.

"For what, mate?"

Robin narrowed his eyes. "I didn't think to tell you. I didn't think you'd still have –"

He was rescued from having to hear the end of that sentence by the waitress bringing them their breakfast and the two of them getting lost in trying to cajole Roland into eating at least some of his pancake.

She was standing at his slip, leaning against the Jewel's hull when he returned to the marina that evening. Her tight blue jeans and fitted blue and grey flannel button up were a far cry from the flowing sundresses, oversized cardigans, and combat boots he remembered. For a moment he considered turning back, pretending he didn't see her, but his exhaustion and the length of the walk back to Robin's pushed him forward.

"Can I help you, Sheriff?" he called.

Emma stiffened at his words and he couldn't help the victorious smirk that curved at the corner of his mouth. He could see her note it, her frown deepening as her brow furrowed.

"Killian," she started, moving towards him. He shifted his shoulder away as he stepped past her and onto the Jewel.

"Mind if I come aboard? I was hoping we might..."

He looked to where she stood below him. "If it's all the same to you, I'm not in the mood for a social call just now."

She wrapped her arms around herself and gave a nod, and the victory he felt moments before morphed into a dull ache beneath his breastbone. He glanced past her to the water, working to summon the courage to invite her aboard, but by the time he shifted his attention back to her she was halfway up the dock back towards the parking lot.

That night was the first night he had dreamt of her in at least a year. He woke covered in a sheen of sweat despite the cool September weather, half hard with the taste of her skin on his tongue. He flipped the light next to his bed, but that almost made it worse. All he could see in the cabin were memories of her there with him – sitting cross legged on his bed in one of his shirts, her hopping up on his desk, crooking the finger of one hand at him as the other reached back to unhook her bra, her face as she rocked above him, eyes closed as she chased her release.

He had worked so hard to excise the memories of their scant few days together, but two days back in town had laid them all bare again.

He shuffled from bed and threw on whatever clothes were strewn on the floor before heading in towards town. At two AM, nothing stirred and he took his time weaving his way to back to Robin's. He was oddly grateful to find a light on when he arrived, though he pulled the spare key beneath the porch rather than knock.

"Couldn't sleep either?" he asked as he handed Robin a beer from the fridge and sat down on the couch next to him.

"How do you live amongst so many memories?" Robin asked.

"I don't know," was his whispered confession.

Life in a small town had its charms. One of them, however, wasn't the ability to hide out unnoticed.

About a week after Marian's funeral, Granny brought a stack of food trays to stock Robin's fridge and shooed Roland out of the house with her and Ruby, promising to bring him back the following afternoon. Without the boy to keep them distracted, it became quickly apparent they needed to get out of the house as well.

They ended up at the same pool hall where they'd passed many a misspent hour of their early 20s. The beer seemed better now, or maybe it was they had more money, but the walls were still covered in horrid gold paint that was only more apparent without the once omnipresent cloud of smoke. They weren't half a game in when Emma walked through the door, joining two women he didn't recognize a few tables over.

Robin took his shot, failing to sink the 6 in the corner, and nodded towards Killian once the ball bounced off the pocket's edge.

"All right there?" he asked.

Killian shook his head ruefully and picked up his cue from against the wall, trying to focus on the table and what remained to be played and not the way Emma's jeans clung to her thighs. He sank the 15 but faltered on the 12 when her laugh carried through a lull in the music. Robin clamped his shoulder and smirked as he passed him to take his turn.

The bartender kept the beer coming and they played two more rounds. He was almost, almost, able to ignore the table in the opposite corner. He was able to keep up the pretense until Robin stepped out to check in with Granny and say goodnight to Roland. Killian sat at the bar and ordered another beer, his eyes on his phone as he idly scrolled through his Facebook feed and trying to ignore the fact he could see her making her way to him from the corner of his eye.

Emma slid her empty beer bottle across the bar as she ordered another round for her group. He kept his head forward as she seemed to search for something to say. "You in town long?" she finally settled on.

He shrugged, keeping his gaze on his phone as he continued to thumb along the screen. "As long as Robin and Roland need."

"That's good. I'm glad they have you."

"What do you want, Swan?" he bit out, turning his head just enough to glance over at her. His words came out harsher than he'd intended, but it was near overwhelming to have her near and he had to curve his free hand on the bar keep from reaching for her.

"I –" she stammered and then took a breath. "I wanted to apologize. You didn't deserve how I treated you."

"Aye," he spat bitterly.

"I was scared."

"Aye," he repeated. "And you think I wasn't? You were - we were -," he stumbled on his words and shook his head. "You could have told me, but you chose to walk away and shut me out."

"I should have," she conceded and Killian turned towards her, surprised.

He closed his eyes and let a breath out. "You should go back to your friends."

"But –"

"I can't do this now. Not tonight."

"Ok," she whispered, picking up the beers the bartender left for her and heading back towards her table.

It wasn't two days later when David finally cornered him, and Killian was surprised he held off even that long. He hovered at the end of the diner booth Granny was allowing Killian to squat at for the afternoon.

"Dave," he said and gestured to the empty booth bench across from him. David slid in and ordered a cup of coffee and a slice of pie as the waitress walked by.

"You staying this time?" he asked.

"Nice to see you too, mate."

David sighed, curling his hand around his coffee mug as soon as the waitress finished filling it. "It would be good if you stayed."

Killian waggled his eyebrows and took a sip of his coffee. "Miss me?"

"You're impossible," he grumbled but Killian could see the smile fighting at the corner of his mouth. "But, yes, it would be nice to have you in town again."

"I think the wife and kid are making you soft."

David laughed and speared his fork into his slice of pie. "Probably," he conceded as he took his first bite.

They sat in silence, David working on his pie and Killian staring at the computer screen, the shades of the color scheme before him all bleeding into one blue monolith.

"Thank you," David said after a few minutes.

He shrugged. "For what? We're just sitting here."

David sunk back against the booth. "I don't know when was the last time I've sat and done nothing. Months probably."

"I hear that's what you get when you have a baby," Killian answered with a laugh.

David closed his eyes and Killian wondered if he might nod off. Instead, after a few minutes he mumbled, "She could use her friend again."

Killian sighed and shut the lid of his laptop. "I don't know if I can be that for her again."

David gave a nod. "She's different than she was. She might surprise you."

"We'll see."

"I can work with that," he replied, eyes still closed.

Robin returned to work and Killian fell into the routine of walking Roland to pre-school three times a week and working in the hours he was out of the house. Somehow September faded into October and Killian didn't feel any urgency to return to New York, so he docked the Jewel in the harbor's storage for the winter.

He didn't talk with Emma, but grew used to seeing her on the Wednesday and Friday walks, nodding to her as Roland waved and skipped past the sheriff's station. He found himself developing a fondness for her progression from t-shirts and button-ups to sweaters and down vests as the temperatures cooled.

"Buy you a coffee, Captain?"

He looked up from his computer screen to find Emma standing at the stool next to him, paper coffee cup in hand. He was prepared to turn her offer down, he had a client's deadline to meet and he still had time some time before he picked up Roland. But his eyes caught on how the fingers of her free hand drummed against the badge at her waist, her nails causing a tinny clink against the metal, and how she was chewing on her lip as she waited for him to answer. They hadn't spoken since the pool hall and Killian still wasn't sure he wanted to, but her standing there looking more nervous than he could ever remember cracked his resolve.

"Sheriff," he said with a smile, lifting his newly filled mug. "Appears I'm good on coffee, but you're welcome to join me anyway." He reached over and shoved his strewn belongings closer in order to make room for her at the counter.

They made awkward small talk about the weather and Killian's most recent run-in with Doc & Leroy. The conversation wasn't strained, but it lacked the easy play they had had with one another even when they first met years ago. The sudden pang of want in his chest took him by surprise.

"I've got to get back out there," she eventually said with a tilt of her chin to the front window.

"Of course," he replied as she stood. "See you around?"

She flashed him a crooked smile. "I'd like that."

David talked him and Robin into coming over for Thanksgiving. He knew he should turn it down, knew it would mean spending the evening in Emma's company, but Roland's widening eyes at the prospect of pumpkin pie were more than a match for Killian's resolve.

Plus Robin scoffed and rolled his eyes before Killian could even begin to form a protest.

After dinner was over, David pushed them all out of the dining room and kitchen, picking up dish duty with Robin. Mary Margaret perched in one of the chairs in their living room, deep in conversation with Ruby, a bottle of wine between them.

He sprawled on the couch, feeling pleasantly drunk and well past comfortably full, with Roland on the floor in front of him, his stack of wooden train tracks spreading across the carpet in a series of bends that seemed to be going nowhere. Emma flopped down on the opposite corner of the couch. "Too much stuffing," she groaned.

They'd been dancing around one another all evening. Polite remarks about the food and seeing one another were given, small jabs with words that were playful rather than mean during conversation around the table. It still felt a little foreign, but he was glad to have her join him now.

"I think the Brussels sprouts did me in," he agreed.

She scrunched her nose and he wanted to laugh at the sight. "I still don't know how you can eat those, let alone enjoy them."

"You don't know what you're missing, Swan."

She hummed a disbelieving little noise and sunk down into the couch, eyes closed and head resting against the back. Her hair fell in waves over the back of the couch and down her shoulder.

"Heard you stored the Jewel for the winter," she said after a few minutes.

"Uh huh," he started, wondering who she'd been talking with.

"You're going to be around a while longer, then?"

"Probably, why?"

"We were talking about going out to Mary Margaret's family's cabin to watch the Geminids in a few weeks. Thought you might like to come, if you were still in town."

Killian swallowed, the memories of many a camping trip with all of them swirling in his head. His response of "I'd like that" was out of his mouth before he realized.

Roland crawled up on the couch between them, burrowing next to Killian and handing him a book. "Like what?" he asked.

Killian grabbed the book and opened to the first page. "Emma & David are planning a trip to go see some falling stars. Do you think you and your dad would like to go with them?"

He watched Roland peer over at Emma, a shy smile on his face as he nodded then buried his head into Killian's stomach with a muffled word.

"What's that, lad?" he asked, pinching his side as Emma bit back a grin while she watched them in return.

Roland giggled and squirmed. "Her hair's pretty," he said in between laughs.

The blush that spread over Emma's cheeks was worth any discomfort he might have felt at the idea of a few days with her in the middle of nowhere Maine.

"Aye, that it is," he said with a smile down at the boy curled against him. "Now did you want me to read you this?" he asked, tapping on the open page of the book.

He felt more than heard Roland's 'yes' against his shirt. Emma shifted on her end of the couch, pulling her feet beneath her. Killian glanced up with a raised eyebrow, but she merely tipped her chin to encourage him to continue. He took a breath and plunged in.

"The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind and another…"

It shouldn't have surprised him that left in the hands of Mary Margaret, a one-day trip out to watch a meteor shower would turn into a four-day trip out of town for the lot of them. As he tossed clothes into his bag, he tried not to focus on the tight quarters he knew would be waiting with seven of them and two children in tow.

He managed to avoid being alone with Emma until their third night there. After the late night watching the meteors the night prior, everyone had retired early. Feeling wired from too much coffee, Killian stoked the fire in the living room and pulled a book from the shelves lining the room before curling up on the sofa. He was about three chapters in when he heard the bedroom door off the kitchen creak open.

Emma padded in, a flannel robe tied tight to her waist and her ponytail completely askew from sleep. She picked up a bottle of bourbon and two glasses on her way to the couch, placing them both on the coffee table before sitting cross-legged on the cushion next to him and pulling the coffee table closer. Without asking if he wanted anyway, she poured two generous portions and recorked the bottle.

"Cheers," he whispered when she handed him one of the glasses, settling his book on the back of the couch.

"Couldn't sleep?" she asked

He shook his head. "Was too early for me, thought I'd take advantage of the quiet," he said with a glance to his abandoned book. "You?"

"I always seem to wake for an hour or so in the middle of the night." She took another sip of her drink. "Thought I heard someone out here and figured it was better than staring at the ceiling until I fell back asleep."

He took a deep sip of the bourbon as the quiet settled over them and the fire popped intermittently.

"You think you'll stay in town?" she asked after a while.

He turned and leaned back into his corner of the couch, watching her as she kept her eyes focused on the flames dancing in front of them.

"Not sure," he answered honestly. "Probably won't be able to pull out the Jewel until late April, and that's if the weather is even remotely decent."

She laughed and he wondered if she could remember his eagerness to get out on the water each season, pushing the limits of what could justly be described as warm enough to stand out on her deck in the water. That it was his way of keeping Liam close, a tradition he had learned at his feet in the cold waters off the coast of the Irish Sea. Killian loved those first few days and weeks - the utter bite to the wind, the layers they would need to pile on to keep the cold at bay, the icy blue color of the churned up water.

"I reckon here's just as good as New York for the winter," he continued, "and prettier by far. We'll see where Robin's at and what he needs come spring."

"And you can just do that?" she asked, finally turning to look at him with a puzzled twist to her brow. "What are you doing these days anyway?"

"Graphic design," he said with a shrug. "Doesn't matter if I'm working from my apartment in New York, a diner in Bar Harbor, or a cabin in western Maine. As long as I'm available by email and Skype, and can get in town for the occasional in person meeting, the clients don't much notice where I am."

Emma hummed and turned her attention back to the fire as it burned lower in the fireplace. They both lapsed back into silence, the only sounds in the room were the continued pops from the flames and the gentle whir of the refrigerator in the kitchen behind them.

"What brought you back?" he asked after he finished off the remains of his bourbon.

Her slow exhale of breath was quiet, but it pulled his attention to her. He watched as her eyes fell to the empty glass in her hands and she tipped it back and forth between her fingers.

"Graham," was her only answer for a few beats. She took another deep breath and continued, "There was a cop I sometimes worked with in Boston who knew him and he turned up one night." She ran a finger around them rim of her empty glass. "I hadn't seen him since, well, you know," she said with an absent shake of her head. "He'd barely said hello before he offered me the job."

A tiny smile quirked at the corner of her mouth as she continued to stare at her glass and the flash of jealousy that rose in his chest took him by surprise.

"I was lonely," she admitted once she schooled her expression into something more neutral. "And tired of running. Coming back here felt like the most natural idea in the world, ya know?"

She finally looked over at him at that and he gave a nod of his head.

"Aye," he said, reaching for the bottle on the coffee table. He poured one more measure out for each of them and drank his down in one go. He then stood and gathered up his book before heading towards the stairs.

"Thanks, Killian," she murmured as his foot hit the first step. He turned to glance back at her.

"For what?" he asked.

"For this." She gestured between them with the hand that was holding her glass. "For talking."

He bent his head towards her and then turned to continue up the stairs. "Night, Swan," he called about halfway up.

"Night," she replied softly after him.

It got a bit easier from there. His short nods to her as he and Roland walked to the schoolhouse morphed into smiles and broad grins combined with hellos. Sometimes on his way back from the drop off, she'd fall into step next to him as she started her daily patrol. They'd chat for the few minutes it took to reach the turnoff towards Robin's and she'd head down Main Street.

He would comment to her on how it seemed far too cold to patrol on foot at this time of year, but even after all this time he was far too greedy a man when it came to Emma Swan.

April arrived, warmer than anticipated, and he talked David into helping him pull the Jewel from storage and get her out on the water. The following day, when he returned from a brief run out on the bay, his cheeks frozen and eyes alight, Emma was waiting on the bench near his slip.

"How was it?" she asked as he tossed the rope line to her, more than happy to take her up on her silent offer to help tie the ship to the dock.

"Perfect," he said with a wide grin. Once he closed everything up and made his way to her, he gratefully accepted the thermos she held out to him.

"I still think you're insane," she said, swaying slightly into his space as they walked towards the parking lot.

Trying to avoid thinking about the way his skin buzzed with her near, he gulped down some of the hot chocolate and tightened the scarf around his neck. "Most likely," he offered, "but it's tradition."

She smiled. "Do you need a ride?" she asked when they hit the line of parked cars.

He shook his head. "I've Robin's truck. Need to pick him up on my way back to the house."

"Ok," she said with a nod before turning on her heel and making her way to her patrol car. He watched as she opened the door and glanced back to offer him a wave. "Good to see you out on the water again, Jones."

He smiled to himself and pulled Robin's keys from his pocket.

That night after Roland was put to bed, Robin joined him on the couch. "What's your plan?" he asked, prying off the caps to two bottles of beer and handing one to Killian.

Killian sighed and drank down a third of his bottle. His mind flashed back to the ends of Emma's hair whipping around her chin, despite being tucked beneath her knit beanie, as she stood on the dock waiting for him. It was so reminiscent of her standing at the prow of the Jewel and he found that he very much wanted to see that again. "Wondered that myself most of the morning," he finally answered.

He didn't want Emma to factor into any decision he made, but he'd be lying if he said their tentative truce wasn't a tick in the stay column.

"You know everyone would love to have you back on a permanent basis."

"Aye."

"What's keeping you in New York anyway? Your family is here."

He sighed again and took another drink. "You said it yourself, there are a lot of memories to live with here."

"They're not all bad," Robin murmured, his eyes on the mantel littered with framed photos.

"Perhaps not," he conceded, "but those that are cut."

Robin took a long drink from his bottle. "I'm not going to tell you what to do. But don't let whatever it is that went or is going on between you and Emma stop you from making the decision you want to make."

"There's nothing –"

Robin leveled him with a stare that clearly said he wasn't buying it. "You know what you want, Killian. You simply need to decide to stop punishing her – and yourself – for decisions made long ago, no matter how stupid they were."

"She left me, mate. It was so good. We were so good," he whispered, the sadness in his words palpable even to him.

"And? Is there anything she's done in the last few months that tells you she hasn't been trying to make amends? She's different now, and you know it, David knows it, and hell, even I know it."

Killian grunted as he ran his hand across his face and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"And I should have gone after her," he said even more quietly.

He squinted to peer out at Robin, who kicked at his foot. "Is that what this is about?"

Killian shifted focus to the empty beer in his hand.

"You're an idiot," Robin grumbled, standing to collect both their bottles and heading towards the kitchen. "You know you are welcome to stay here," he continued when he reached the doorway. "For as long as you like. But you'll be happier once you make a decision about where it is you want to be."

Killian closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the couch, letting Robin's words bounce around his head.

He started eyeing rental ads, but only in the safety of his bedroom at night once Robin and Roland had gone to bed. He still wasn't convinced staying in town was best, but with each passing week, returning to his flat in New York felt more and more alien.

And then he found it.

It was a small house on a hill, a couple blocks from the docks. There was a large enough shed in the back to store the Jewel in the winter. The living room had a small fireplace and walls lined with built-in bookshelves. The windows of the master bedroom were plentiful and held a spectacular view of the bay.

In sum, it was perfect.

He didn't discuss it with anyone. Simply signed the paperwork, handed over his deposit, and called around for a service to pack up his flat in the city and have everything shipped.

When he finally told Robin a few days later, his friend's smile and the tackling hug from Roland were all the confirmation he needed that he made the right choice.

He wanted to hold off telling anyone else, but knew the likelihood of a three-year-old keeping a secret for any length of time was nil. So the next night, after he picked up the keys, he walked the several blocks to what he was told was Emma's place and knocked on her door.

She gaped when she opened the door and found him on her porch. It was May and the nights still cool, but she was wearing a pair of green sleep shorts and an oversized sweatshirt with the sheriff's station logo emblazoned on one corner. Her hair was a mess, falling over her shoulders in tangled curls. He wanted to reach out and smooth out one particular snarl just behind her ear, but instead dug into his pocket and dangled the key ring he found within from one of his fingers.

Her eyebrows knitted together. "Hi," she said, the question evident in her tone.

"Hi," he replied, rocking back on the heels of his boots.

Emma cocked her head. "Do you often show up on a girl's front porch and shake a set of keys?"

"Nope," he said with a grin.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on or will I have to play twenty questions?"

"Got the keys to my new place." He jangled them again for emphasis. "I thought you might like to know."

Emma pulled her door shut and lowered herself to the wood-planked floor of her porch. "Where are you moving to?" she asked, gathering her legs up and wrapping her arms around her knees.

Killian sat down next to her. "The grey house with the dark blue shutters over on Maple."

"What?" She began to unfold herself as she looked over at him. He smiled at her as he watched her realize he meant to stay in town. She reached out to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. He stiffened for a moment before letting himself wrap his own arms around her waist.

"You're staying?" she asked against his shoulder and he smiled into her hair.

"I am," he whispered.

"Does David know?"

"Not yet. You're the first after Robin and Roland. Wanted to be sure you heard it from me."

She looked at him through her eyelashes and smiled.

He smiled back. "Everything should be arriving from New York on Friday morning. Would you like to come over after your shift ends and help me with some of the unpacking?"

His heart skipped as her smile deepened and her eyes crinkled. "Really? You want to put me to work?" she teased.

"What if I promise pizza and beer as part of the deal? There can be a movie in it for you too, if you help manage to find the Roku."

"Deal," she said.

Killian stood and offered her a hand, pulling her up with him. "See you around 6?"

"Sure."

He let go of her hand and bounded down her steps. He turned back to her and walked backwards down her front walkway, watching as she opened her door and slipped inside.

"Killian?" she called from around the door as he reached her front gate.

"Aye, Swan?"

"Glad you're back."

He waved and started down the street towards Robin's, smiling to himself and whispering, "Me too."