The ding of his phone woke him much too early. When he finally cracked one eye open, he could tell by the faint light coming in through the curtains that it was still well before daybreak. The reminder ding sounded, and he stretched toward the nightstand for his device.

4:33 - David Nolan - The only two thoughts he could string together were "bloody bastard" and "this better be good."

You might want to head over to the station. Emma could use your help.

While he was reading that message, another came through.

And coffee would be a good idea. And maybe get there sooner rather than later.

Killian groaned. He was sure whatever trouble Emma found herself in, she could handle it. She was more capable than any of the rest of them on the sleepy town's police force. Having transferred to Storybrooke the year previous, she traded drug felonies for the town drunk, and had started whipping the rest of them into shape the day she arrived.

Listen, mate. It's 4:30. I'm sure Emma can handle Leroy shouting at her from the cell for the night. She's probably glad of the company.

That's not it, "mate." Get your butt over there. I'm sure she might even be appreciative.

That got his interest. They'd never spoken a word of his interest in the newest member of their small police department, but David Nolan was a perceptive man. And maybe he had not been as subtle as he thought in his admiration. He was quite certain that Emma Swan wanted no part of his attentions. Any and all flirtation was batted away, as though he couldn't possibly be serious.

Curious to see what the situation at the station was, he found he could do with a cup of coffee just as much as Emma apparently could, and took just a few moments brewing a pot before heading into the brisk morning air.

When he arrived the station was pitch black, save the glow from the few emergency lights. Emma wasn't at her desk in the bullpen and there was no movement in Dave's office. He was starting to wonder if she had given up and gone home, but as soon as the the sound of the door closing behind him echoed through the space, Emma finally revealed herself.

"About fucking time. Did Mary Margaret send you back to get me? I can't believe you locked me in here you asshole."

His head whipped around, and he could see her lying on the bench in the town's lone holding cell. Typically the only resident was the town drunk, but tonight instead of a cranky, inebriated man yelling to anyone who would listen, there lay Emma stretched out across the bench. Her jacket was balled up under her head as a makeshift pillow, but her arms were crossed over her chest, fists tight. Anyone would have been able to tell she was far from relaxed.

He took a moment to assess the situation before announcing that he was not the man she expected. Truly, David may have had the best of intentions, he thought, but angering Emma and hoping for her to fall for a rescue from a knight in leather equipped with a cup of coffee was not the best of plans.

He steeled himself for what he expected would be a tirade, and finally spoke.

"Swan. I always knew you had a criminal side. However, I was sure if any of us were to end up behind bars for any sort of malfeasance it would be myself."

"Really?" It wasn't a question he was to answer, more her cursing the universe for the new circumstance she found herself in. There was exasperation in her voice, but something else he couldn't quite place.

"Dave said you needed a rescue, but he didn't give me any details. I'm not sure I can let you out until you tell me exactly the circumstances of your incarceration."

"Then I guess you'll just have to leave me here, won't you?"

She was stubborn. He knew that, and it was one of the things he found most aggravating about her. No one saved Emma Swan but Emma Swan. Even locked inside a jail cell at 4:30 in the morning with no foreseeable way out. He wouldn't have her any other way.

"But there's coffee on this side. And I know how much you need your coffee." She finally cracked one eye open and turned her head toward him, and he offered the cup through the bars in peace. Her movement toward him was slow, as though she couldn't be bothered, but he knew he'd won at least one point in the battle of wills that Dave had dragged him into.

"Now, tell me what has caused our captain to lock you up. As I'm sure you've gathered, Dave and I have very different ideas of just how far the law can be bent. You and I understand each other on that bit, I believe."

He dragged his desk chair over to the cell and propped his feet up on the bars, hoping that the gesture would seem casual. He was absolutely certain that this had nothing to do with the law, otherwise Dave would never have called him to come let her out.

She took her cup of coffee and returned to the bench occasionally sipping her coffee, but offering no information. This continued until he decided to poke further.

"I realize my company is quite relaxing, Swan. But I'm far more fun when we don't have bars between us, I promise you. If you just tell me why you're in there, I'll let you out and I'll walk you home. Or, if you're really lucky, I'll even take you to Granny's for breakfast. I know how much you like your Granny's breakfast. Eggs, bacon, more coffee. I'm sure you're almost out by now anyway. Or that hot chocolate she makes special just for you. Just tell me why you're in there."

He was hopeful as Emma rose from the bench and walked over to the bars near him, reaching through with her coffee cup. But as she tossed the cup to the nearest bin, and watched as it flew in a perfect arc, landing neatly in the garbage, he realized she had no intention of caving any time soon.

He knew what his final play would be, but didn't want to use it so soon.

Yesterday's newspaper served him for an hour. An hour in which Emma sat silent and still. The only sounds in the station were the ticking of the clock and the occasional shuffling of the paper as Killian turned the page. He'd laugh every once in awhile, or grunt, hoping the wordless commentary on Storybrooke's news would draw her out of her self-imposed quiet, to no avail.

Once he finished the last of the classified ads, he put down the paper and gave her one last chance.

"Well Officer Swan, I'm on duty today and I can't just sit around here baby sitting you all day, now can I? I'll be out until my shift ends at 6 tonight. Maybe I'll send Dave by at lunchtime with some food for you? I'm not entirely sure what the rules are for feeding prisoners. We always let Leroy out once he's sobered up. Unless…." he paused for a moment. He knew she knew exactly what could get her out. He wasn't bluffing. He would leave her in there all day once he called Dave and got the full story.

She didn't budge, and he just shook his head and walked out the front door. As soon as he cleared the station, he dialed the captain, wanting to get the full story. Dave had just worked an overnight, but after being woken up at 4:30, he had no guilt at waking his friend up in return.

"Did she talk?"

"No. What exactly is going on between the two of you?"

"More like what's going on between the two of you? I know you like her, Jones. And I can tell she likes you. But she won't admit it. I was teasing her last night about it and locked her in the cell and told her I wouldn't let her out until she admitted it."

Killian wiped his hand over his face in frustration and sighed. While his friend had the best of intentions, and as happy as he was to hear that there was the faintest chance that Emma Swan might be interested, this was not how to handle her.

"That's why she's in the cell? Dave, haven't you picked up on Swan's stubborn side? She wouldn't admit to her name if it meant giving in. I appreciate the attempt, but this was not a good idea."

He hung up the phone. She'd rather stay locked in a jail cell than admit she might be interested in him. It wasn't surprising. But it also wasn't fair. Even if she weren't stubborn, she'd be too proud to admit it, and too scared to tell him without him saying something first.

From day one of her entry into Storybrooke he'd seen himself reflected in her. She'd been hurt by love, and unwilling to let anyone in for fear of opening herself up to that pain. It's why for years he'd lived by one night stands alone. He knew that pain.

To ask Emma, to force her, to open up, would never be the way.

He walked back into the station, silently pulling out the keys and opening the cell. Not one word was uttered as he motioned to her, indicating that she was free to go.

Her confusion was evident, and while she took no time in crossing through the cell's doorway, she stopped behind him as he locked it back up empty.

"Why did you change your mind?"

"Talked to Dave."

"Did he tell you why he put me in here?"

"Yes."

"You're not going to say anything, or tease me about it?"

"I would never do that, Swan." He stopped a moment and turned toward her, ready to bear his soul.

But he was stopped by her grabbing the lapels of his jacket and pulling him down until his lips met hers. He didn't even have time to get his bearings before she broke apart, gasping for air, but pulling him right back down, as though she were just as desperate to know how he felt as he was. As soon as his head caught up, and realized this was real, he'd just begun to snake his hand through her hair, and run his thumb across her cheek when she broke away.

He was in a daze as she walked off, not able to quite believe what had just passed. No thought beyond trying to commit the kiss to memory had even passed his mind until he heard her call from the front door.

"You're still taking me to Granny's for breakfast, right?"

He reached up and touched his lips with a smile. Yes, he was most definitely taking her to Granny's.