A/N: HI! This was done as a Captain Swan secret santa gift for the lovely snowqueenemma. Since it grew larger than I first intended to, it will be a multi chaptered fic. Merry Christmas everyone!

Chapter One.

The first time he entered The Busy Bean Emma Swan almost did a double take as she was headed towards the back of the shop.

It wasn't that they never had good looking customers there; Manhattan was filled with a ridiculous amount of people, and some of them were bound to give up Starbucks for the more homey feeling The Busy Bean (and others like it) offered. But there was something about him, something that intrigued her in a way she didn't really want to be intrigued; nothing good ever came out of feeling like that.

Luckily for her she was able to stop herself from looking like a complete goon and continued to the back as if nothing had happened. As if she didn't want to go back and just stareat the poor man for all eternity. But no. She wasn't that kind of a business woman. She was a professional that just happened to stand by the fridges in the back, pounding her head in light thumps against the cold surface, trying to wish away her desire to see if the stranger still was there – which was why she waited for as long as she could before heading out to the front again. So maybe it took her a few minutes longer than usual to bring out three packages of milk. Sue her.

When she came back, she almost sighed in relief when she couldn't see the man, which was closely followed by the desire to hit her head again. You do not latch on to innocent strangers, she thought. You do not get to be so attracted to someone that you can't behave as a functional human being.

She continued to chant the sentences a few times in her head and was only interrupted by Ruby waving a hand in front of her face.

"Hello, earth to Emma?" There was a sly grin on her face, and if Emma didn't know any better she would think Ruby could read minds – which, wow, that would be very inappropriate on so many levels.

"Sorry," Emma replied, running a hand through her hair before picking up a cloth to clean of the counter, very firmly deciding not to meet her friend's eyes.

She and Ruby had met right after Emma got out of prison thirteen years earlier, and while Emma did not regret a second of that friendship she did know how Ruby worked; if she, heaven forbid, saw something in Emma that even looked remotely like attraction to a real human being, she'd latch on to it with all she had. After thirteen years and what felt like a million blind dates Emma did not want to involve Ruby in that part of her life anymore until she had to. "What were you saying?"

Ruby's grin spread wider. "Henry called to say he were heading to Jessica's and that he's going to eat dinner with them. He wanted to make sure you were okay eating alone." She paused to tap a finger to her lips, and Emma knew she was screwed; Ruby always looked very much like a wolf planning her attack on the next prey whenever she thought of a plan – plans that always seemed to involve Emma in one way or another. "I'm thinking you might want to grab a bite to eat with Killian though."

Emma frowned. "Who the hell is Killian?"

"That ridiculously hot guy that made you stumble over your own feet until your forehead met the floor."

"I did not– " Emma hissed, but stopped herself when she saw the expression on her friend's face. Of course Ruby hadn't seen Emma fall over, because it hadn't actually happened. "You are an evil genius and I kind of hate you." She frowned. "How do you know his name?"

Ruby shrugged. "I had to know, it was just a hunch. A very good hunch though, I might add. And please, you adore the ground I walk on." She smacked Emma with a cloth of her own very lightly, laughter in her eyes. "And I know everything. Stop asking stupid questions," she grinned, before turning around to greet the waiting customer.

Emma shook her head at nothing in particular and started to make the cappuccino ordered. It wasn't as if she'd ever see the man again – given the million people living in Manhattan, the odds of that same man setting his foot inside The Busy Bean ever again were slim to none. But that was okay, and it didn't make Emma feel gloomy at all. Nope.

The man, Killian Jones, came back, though. The very next day, actually, when Emma had just opened up he walked through the door as if he'd been doing it his whole life. Since she had put Ruby on coffee making duties that morning, she was forced to greet him with a smile, no matter how much she wanted to hide in the back, safe from any and all inappropriate emotions. (Jesus Christ, I'm fifteen again, she thought bitterly).

"Good morning," she began, swallowing down whatever emotion that wanted to be released. (Get a grip). "What can I get you?"

"Regular coffee, no milk, thank you," he replied without looking up from the wallet that he had picked up from his pocket, and if she melted into a puddle on the floor when she heard his voice – well, that would be between her and herself.

In the corner of her eye she saw Ruby starting to fill a paper cup with his order, a small smirk on her lips but no words leaving her. Emma ignored her friend.

"Okay. Anything else?"

"No, that's fine, love." He handed her a twenty dollar bill and took the beverage from the counter as soon as Ruby had put it there, leaving the shop before Emma even had the chance to give him his money back – which was quite a lot considering they only charged two dollars for a regular coffee. She stared at the bill in her hand in awe, wondering what it was like to be able to hand out that much money and not even think about it.

Soon, he became a regular at Emma's little place. He always came in at the same time and never changed his order, not even to add a biscuit or to put some milk in his coffee. No, it was always a coffee, black, to go.

It wasn't until the fifth time he came in (not that she kept count) that she noticed that what she had thought to be his left hand were, in fact, just a prosthetic. He saw her look at it, so she didn't want to comment on it, despite the fact that she were dying of curiosity.

(Sometimes, other customers would stare at him as if he held the world in his hand and Ruby would only smirk when Emma wondered why. She didn't think it had to do with him only having one hand, because the looks held more adoration than disgust, which was at least something; she'd hate to have to snipe at her costumers for being rude.)

She wasn't sure how to engage in conversation with him, so she stuck with the safe questions – 'What will it be today?' or 'Wow, it's really pouring outside today' – and usually didn't get more than the occasional smile. He barely looked up from the counter, as if afraid to meet the eyes of anyone around him.

One morning, he didn't show up. As the day progressed Emma started to worry, like she might do if Ruby failed to show up at work, or if Henry didn't come home at the time he said he would. It had been over two months of Killian coming in to buy his morning coffee and he had not yet missed a single day up until now; she just knew something was off.

She was alone, just a few short minutes before closing time, when the bell chimed at the door.

"Sorry, I'm just about to – " She froze as she turned around and saw Killian standing there, looking as if he was about to fall apart any second. She couldn't see his face as his gaze was directed at his feet, but everything about him screamed help.

"Coffee, black, to go?" she said instead, not wanting to send him away when he looked as if he'd rather sleep on the floor of her little shop than leave right now.

He nodded, stiff and small, and went further inside to plop himself down at one of the tables before taking off his rather large coat, putting it neatly right next to his seat. Nodding to herself she took the largest cup she had and filled it with two thirds of coffee, before opening a locked cabinet beneath the counter where she kept some booze for herself and Ruby – emergencies only – and poured rum into the cup until it was full, because the only other thing she had was vodka and she guessed that rum would taste better together with the hot beverage than lemon flavored spirits would.

She walked over and put the cup in front of him without saying a word and then went back to stand behind the imaginary safety of the counter. She started to wipe of the surface despite the fact that she'd already done it six times in the past half hour.

He didn't speak, but she saw the small smile on his lips as he took a sip from his cup and she had to hide one of her own. He left her a twenty dollar bill – like he had done that first time – half an hour later and mumbled a goodnight as he headed out into the cold evening air. Emma sighed and sat down on one of the closest chairs.

She frowned as she thought about his mood this evening, and wondered what had gotten him so down. Perhaps a quarrel with a lover, or maybe lost his dog. (She hoped for the latter, but knew it was more likely to be the former.)

She still wasn't sure why he still intrigued her so much, and she was sure she would go crazy before she found out. It troubled her, like an itch she couldn't scratch, but she knew none of it would matter since she didn't want any sort of commitment at all at the moment. Or, well, she wanted to, of course she did, but she knew it was a lot of hassle and heart ache for a short period of happiness that never lasted no matter how much you wanted it to, so why bother at all?

Her train of thought was interrupted by her phone buzzing in the pocket of her jeans and she fished it up.

"Henry?"

"Mom! Where are you?"

"I'm still at the bean."

"It's closer to nine pm, I was getting worried."

Shocked, the lifted her wrist to look at her own clock and saw that Henry was indeed right.

"Sorry, time flew away from me, kid."

"That's okay, Eileen left just a few minutes ago."

Eileen were their next door neighbor, an old lady who kept on insisting to cook Henry dinner on the nights Emma had to close up and it worked out well for all of them.

He didn't sound upset with her, so she breathed a relieved sigh. "I'm closing up this second!" She headed to the back to grab her coat and purse, before darting to the door, keys in a hard grip.

"Good. We left you some fries she made. You're going to need it before I kick your ass at Fifa."

She grinned as she locked the door and put on her gloves, one hand at a time. "Language! And you wish. See you soon."

She tightened the coat around her body as she headed for the subway. She never had liked the cold very much, not even as a child, because that meant Christmas was only a few months away – and she wasn't that fond of Christmas. She always made an effort for Henry, and she didn't carry the same dislike for it as she had growing up, but it still made her hurt thinking about all the kids spending their Christmases just as she had; alone and with not enough clothes to shield themselves from the cold.

She started to wonder how Killian would spend his Christmas this year, and found herself imagining him laughing, arms around his wife and beautiful children. She pressed down the sense of jealousy that popped up just as the subway stopped at her station, and promised herself that she would not think about Killian – someone she didn't even know, for heaven's sake – for the entire weekend she had off.

(As she went to bed a few hours later, her thoughts drifted to him again. She cursed and put a pillow over her face, hoping to drown out the image of his smile.)

A/N: Reviews make life easier! And come say hi on tumblr, I'm Oncestifer!