My first OUAT fic and it's AU, hope it's okay. There are some deeper things touched upon, their past and such, but it's not really explored. It's just something they tell each other. Because I'm guessing in relationships, past relationships usually come out.

Rating is T, but a little suggestive. I have plans to up the rating if this fic generates interest and I add on more.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, ABC and Disney does.

Leaning over the kitchen sink, Emma pulls back the blue curtains, and tugs hard at the old window. It opens with it's regular shrill creak. The usual strum of the guitar and a husky sounding voice greet her.

She first heard the faint strains of the guitar a week ago, the first day she arrived in lovely Marais, Paris. Her body still thought it was one in the morning like back home, but in Paris it was ten am. Wanting nothing but to strip off her sweaty clothes, (that ten hour flight had not been good to her,) and flop onto the bed; the first few notes of an older Maroon 5 songs drifted to her ears, coming from somewhere around the old apartment building.

At first, she was annoyed. She couldn't leave the windows closed because it was hot and there wasn't a fan. But when a voice sang the opening line about the eighteen year old beauty queen, she was intrigued.

Also a bit turned on. Emma blushed fiercely at that thought, but that voice was so warm and sexy and she really couldn't control her rising temperature and dear god she missed her trusty shower head back home.

Emma wouldn't dare admit aloud what a nice sounding voice did to her.

So she keeps the window ajar, curtains flapping in the breeze, and falls asleep to the stranger's lulling voice and guitar.

The second time Emma heard it was only a few days after. She still hadn't really gotten used to the time change. She wasn't used to having to wait until after six pm, Paris time, to text her friends who are just waking up. Her friends had had varying reactions when she texted them at lunch, only to find out it was about three am back home where they were. Her friend Ruby had sent her a picture of her analog clock, it's bright red numbers showing Emma the time. A damn you accompanied the picture.

She had been eating some leftover chicken and drinking tea early in the morning when the guy started singing.

He sang his usual nineties songs, a few from the early 2000's. She was proud to say she knew them all.

Of course she has to close the window when she leaves the apartment because of burglars, and stray cats, which was why she was prying the thing open again after a long day of shopping with a friend she had in Paris, Belle French. Marais was a shopping district, so there was no shortage of shoe stores.

(With awesome 50-70 percent off sales. She had bought a cute, strappy and totally not sensible pair of shoes, that had made up for the elbowing she had had to endure.)

This time however, after the window opened, the voice stopped singing and the guitar was cut off abruptly.

Damn.

"Hey, blonde lass!"

Emma freezes. It was the voice. The voice that woke her up, or sang her to sleep.

And made her feel a little bit hormonal.

Now that he is speaking, she notices the accent is distinctly Irish. An accent, that explains it. She's always had a weakness for accents.

"Uh, me?" She sticks her head out the window and looks left and right, searching for whatever window the voice is coming from.

The stranger pops his head out of a window a few windows to her right. It's hard to tell because of the distance, but he seems about her age, with dark hair.

"Yeah, you. Any suggestions?" He calls out.

"How'd you know I was listening?" Emma asks bewildered.

"I can hear your window creaking open every time I start." She can see him grinning. Jerk.

"Oh." She blushes and hopes the distance makes it hard for him to see her red face.

"So, any suggestions?" He repeats.

(She thinks about it as she boils some water and sticks a tea bag in a mug with an Eiffel Tower on it.)

"How about 'Endlessly' by that Irish guy?"

She can see his nod of affirmation, (he knows it,) and she sips her tea as his voice washes over her yet again.

After he plays that, and she applauds, he asks her name.

"Emma." Emma reboils some water. Just so she can do something with her hands.

"Well Emma, I'm Killian. Does there happen to be a last name...?"

"Swan." She used to worry about strangers and personal info, but after too many failed relationships, and friendships, she just didn't care anymore.

"Jones. I'd shake your hand but, you know."

Emma laughs. He asks for more suggestions, (he rolls his eyes at some of her choices,) and suddenly the room feels really hot. She resists the urge to fan herself with the discarded metro map beside her.

He plays another song, and then she makes some excuse about leaving to go shopping.

(He doesn't need to know she just went.)

They both close their windows and after she puts her tea cup down, she sprints for the washroom. The shower head is decent.

She ends up turning in early, she doesn't have the energy nor the desire to see Paris at the moment. All she wants to see is the man a couple windows to her right.

I can continue this if it generates interest, reviews are loved! Thinking of posting a first date fic, I dunno.