"Liam."
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
"Liam!"
WHIIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-
"LIAM!"
Liam startled, nearly dropping his power drill before turning in the direction of the voice and removing his ear buds. His eyes landed on the pajama-clad and clearly angry form of his roommate, Emma Swan. "Bloody hell, lass. How long have you been standing there? You scared me half to death!"
Emma leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her fingers tapped an agitated rhythm against her upper arm as she counted to ten in an attempt to stave off the flood of curse words she felt edging their way to the tip of her tongue. She shouldn't lose her temper. Liam Jones was really the best roommate she could've possibly asked for after her previous roomie Mary Margaret had gotten engaged and moved out.
Emma had initially been wary renting her newly vacated second bedroom to Liam when he first answered her ad. In fact, if he hadn't been the only person to answer the ad, she probably would've rejected him simply because she didn't think she could cohabitate with that much handsome without doing something stupid. Tall, broad shoulders, great hair, steely blue eyes - living under the same roof as that just had to be a recipe for disaster, right?
Thankfully, it had only taken 48 hours after he officially moved in for her to realize that he was never meant to be anything more than her slightly annoying, overprotective and way too organized big brother, and she his charming if occasionally a tad slovenly little sister. So yes, he was a perfect roommate in that he always paid rent on time, cleaned (one might say obsessively), cooked and was generally a kind-hearted guy and good company. But… he did have his little quirks. Like the way he used home improvement projects as his own form of therapy.
Emma released her frustrations in a long-suffering sigh. "I've been standing here since exactly 7:32 a.m.," she answered as calmly as possible. "Do you want to know how I know it was exactly 7:32 a.m.?"
Liam pressed his lips together, dropping his eyes to the floor momentarily before looking back up at her guiltily. "Actually I have a feeling I don't want to know that. No. But I reckon you've the right to tell me."
Emma continued as if he hadn't spoken. "I know that it was exactly 7:32 a.m., because that's the time that my alarm clock showed at the moment I heard the first hammer strike on this fine Saturday morning. We've talked about this, Jones! We have ground rules . No power tools before 10:00 a.m. on weekends, remember?" Emma grumbled sleepily, but then her eyes landed on the coffee maker, full to the brim with a fresh pot of liquid gold.
Glancing back over at Liam, she took in the ridiculous big, blue puppy dog eyes he had fixed on her. "My apologies, Swan. I was just feeling a bit restless this morning. Forgive me?"
Emma huffed, but her demeanor softened perceptibly as she poured herself a cup. "I guess. But only because you're plying me with caffeine." She finished with an emphatic jab of her pointer finger in his direction.
She ignored his self-satisfied smirk, and carried her cup over to the breakfast nook to sit at the dining table (one of Liam's additions to the apartment because apparently "civilized humans do not eat meals at the coffee table, Swan"). Liam poured himself a cup and joined her, taking the seat adjacent to hers.
Gesturing back toward the kitchen with her mug Emma asked, "What the hell are you building anyway?"
Liam smiled, apparently gratified that she'd given him an opening to show off his handiwork. "New storage baskets for the pantry door. Now you'll be able to find those ghastly toaster pastries you favor so much without having to dig for them. After that, I was going to build you a closet rack for your boot collection."
Emma narrowed her eyes. "So what you're saying is that you're tired of me having to ask you where the Pop Tarts are and leaving my boots all over the apartment?"
Liam grinned even more broadly. "What I'm saying, lass, is that you are very lucky to have such a helpful and considerate roommate."
Emma snorted at that. "Really, Jones? Then what I am saying is that as your very helpful and considerate roommate, I'm seriously considering staging an intervention for your Container Store addiction. We've gotta find some other way for you to burn off nervous energy." Emma paused, taking a sip of her coffee. "Maybe you just need to get laid."
She'd mumbled her last comment under her breath, though she could tell Liam heard it anyway. Something like hurt and embarrassment flashed across his face, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a cocky smirk. "You offering, lass?"
Emma raised an eyebrow and waggled a chastising finger in his face. "Oh, don't even start that with me, buddy. We both know you couldn't handle all of this, " she deadpanned with a sweeping gesture from the top of her off-kilter ponytail down to her fleecy duckling print pajama pants.
Liam quirked an eyebrow at her and hummed - the sound more of an "if you say so" than an agreement. He took a long draw of his coffee and Emma used the quiet pause to study him. It was there again this morning. That trace of melancholy and hurt and - dare she say - fragility that came over him from time to time. It's appearance had been decreasing in frequency and duration over the last six months, but it clearly wasn't ready to leave him for good, or maybe more accurately he wasn't ready to let it go quite yet. Still, it definitely explained Liam's need for the manly operation of power tools that morning.
As Liam set his mug back down, Emma reached out and gave his forearm a squeeze. "Hey. I was kidding about you getting laid, but you know, it honestly might not be the worst idea in the world for you to interact with a member of the opposite sex who isn't me once in awhile. I know Ariel messed you up pretty badly - I get that, you know I do - but it's been what? Over six months now?"
Liam leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily pressing both hands to his face as if to hide from Emma's concerned gaze. She did get it. That wasn't just lip service. Heartbreak was certainly something she understood from experience. Hell, that's probably the real reason she took Liam on as a roommate. He'd shown up on her doorstep with a printout of her Craiglist post in hand and a hangdog expression on his face, still reeling from a fresh breakup, and well… Lost souls have to stick together, right?
Liam lowered his hands and turned his head to stare absently out the window. "Aye. It has. I just..." he shook his head to clear his thoughts and finally turned to meet Emma's eyes again. "I just need a little time."
Emma attempted a small grin at him. "Okay, but not too much more time or else all the single ladies of Storybrooke are going to start queuing up as you say outside our front door to get first crack at you. Fair warning? If anyone tries to bribe me with bearclaws to send you on a blind date with them, your ass is theirs ."
Liam rolled his eyes at her, but she didn't miss the way the corners of his lips turned up ever so slightly. "Ha, bloody ha , Swan. You're beginning to sound like my wastrel of a brother. He's forever trying to convince me there are oh, so many other fish in the sea." Liam sighed, seeming to draw into himself once again. "But I'm not interested in just another fish . Ariel was something special she was-"
"What? A mermaid?" Emma interjected with an innocent bat of her eyes.
Despite Liam's best attempt to look disapproving, a snort of laughter escaped him. "Droll. Very droll, love. I do believe you really would get on with my brother. Cheeky smart arses, the both of you."
Happy to have seemingly pulled him back from the brink of an epic sulk, Emma smiled at him over the rim of her coffee mug and took another sip. "So speaking of this wastrel brother ," she asked making a poor attempt at imitating Liam's accent, "when do I finally get to meet him? You're always going to see him in Boston on weekends. It's about time he hauls his arse up here to Storybrooke."
Emma hoped her voice only conveyed a polite interest rather than the burning curiousy she harbored about Liam's elusive brother. She'd seen pictures of the younger Jones, and he certainly shared his brother's good looks, if maybe a slightly darker, brooding edition. But more intriguing than his appearance was that - from the little snippets of information Liam had divulged about him - Emma couldn't get any kind of read on what sort of a man he was. Everything seemed to contradict. Liam obviously loved his brother deeply, so there must be a good man inside him somewhere, but to hear Liam describe him, Emma was almost convinced he was a pirate. That couldn't be right, could it? The mystery was maddening.
"Ah. Well, be careful what you wish for, lass," Liam answered, standing to move to the coffee maker for a second cup. "I've had word from Killian last night that he'll be coming up to visit this Friday. He'll be here all weekend. You'll get your fill. That is, if I don't throttle him for dragging me to every pub in a 20 mile radius in an attempt to get me laid as you so eloquently put it."
Liam placed his newly refilled mug back on the table and reached for Emma's empty one to refill it as well. She acknowledged the kindness with a murmured "Thanks", as she furrowed her brow in thought. "Is that what he's been doing every time you go visit him? Taking you to bars to pick up women?"
Liam gave a wan smile as he handed Emma back her refilled cup. "That he has. I go along because I know he means well. He's trying to help me get over my heartache the only way he knows how." He paused, scrubbing a hand down his face and mumbled quickly, "Not that I'm convinced rum and one night stands did much good for his own broken heart."
Emma filed that little piece of the puzzle away for further examination. "But it's exhausting, right?" she asked with a sympathetic raise of her eyebrows.
"Aye. It's exhausting." Liam replied, slumping heavily back down in his chair.
Emma leaned forward resting her elbows on the table. "So go on a date, then. It doesn't have to be a big deal. I can fix you up with someone - again, probably whoever offers me a bearclaw. Or onion rings. Or -" Liam shot her an unamused glare. "Sorry not the point. You meet them for coffee a time or two. Tell Killian you've been dating and then he's off your case. Simple."
Liam shook his head. "Swan, I find your willingness to sell me for food rather disturbing. Besides, I'm afraid one date wouldn't be enough to do the trick. Meddlesome blighter probably won't give me a moment's peace until I'm settled down with a wife, a mortgage and a pair of yellow labradors."
Emma laughed lightly. "So the overprotective brother thing goes both ways then?"
"I suppose it does. Comes from having no one in the world but each other for so long," he answered with a warm smile that made Emma's heart twinge with empathy and the tiniest hint of envy.
How very different would her life have been if she'd had a sibling to cling to as she drifted through the foster system? Someone to love, to fight for, or hell - just to fight with . Then again, it was basically a miracle that Liam and Killian had managed to stay together until Liam came of age and could become his younger brother's legal guardian. That type of magic could never have happened to Emma Swan.
Blinking away that train of thought, she hummed, refocusing on the task at hand. "Well, it may not be a picket fence life with a Mrs., a house, and dogs, but you've got a lease, a couple of stray cats that you feed down at the docks - yes, I know about that." Emma ticked off the points on her fingers. "And you do live with a woman, in a very literal sense. Isn't that close en-" she stopped, pressing her palms flat on the table as the idea struck her. "Wait. What if you had an actual girlfriend?"
"What the devil are you on about?" Liam asked, his face scrunched in bemusement.
"A girlfriend. A significant other. Would that be enough to get Killian to back off?"
"Probably, but I've no intention of -"
"We'll just fake it," Emma interrupted with a casual shrug.
"Fake what?"
"A relationship. You and me. We know each other well enough to pull it off."
"Emma, he knows about you. He knows you're my roommate. He's never going to buy it."
"Because people who live together never get together together? Have you never seen a made-for-TV movie?" Liam rolled his eyes melodramatically, but Emma pressed on. "Or am I not good enough to be your fake girlfriend?" She asked with an accusing arch of her brow.
"You know that's not what I meant." he grumbled. "He's going to wonder why I never mentioned before that I'm shagging my roommate."
Emma pursed her lips in thought. "So, just tell him that you were keeping it quiet because it's still a new thing and you didn't want his meddling arse getting involved."
"Well, that sounds…" Liam raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. "Actually that sounds exactly like me. I didn't tell him about Ar- that is, about my last girlfriend until we'd been dating a full two months."
"See? We can totally pull this off. Just a little bit of pretending and you get to live in peace for months until we ultimately stage our mutual and amicable break up and decide to remain as friends."
"Are you sure you want to do this, Swan?" he asked, gratitude coloring his voice.
"Of course, I'm sure. Killian will only be in town for the weekend, right? It's just a couple of days. How bad could it be? Let me do this for you, Jones. It'll be fine," Emma reassured him with a pat on the shoulder.
"Very well then." Liam nodded and schooled his features into a serious expression. "Emma Swan, will you be my fake girlfriend?" he asked, bowing his head and placing a hand over his heart in supplication.
"I'd be honored, Liam Jones," Emma answered, adopting his solemn tone even as her eyes shone with mirth. "Now, please go get your girlfriend a pop tart."
