"Seriously. We know how to pick 'em, Jones."

Killian glanced up to find Emma sliding into the other side of the booth, dropping a beer and a shot of whiskey in front of him. He refrained from raising an eyebrow at her. While they'd been out in groups together, it'd been months since she'd spoken to him directly – sought out his company – and he was loathe to discourage her. Instead he tipped the shot glass in her direction before knocking the bottom against the table and downing its contents. Washing it down with a gulp of his beer, he took a moment to give her a once over.

She was wearing a t-shirt from the café they'd met at years ago. The one where they'd passed so many hours between and after classes, snarking at one another between endless cups of coffee and piles of draft papers and journal articles between them. The shirt was now torn, faded, and well-worn and he hadn't seen her in ages. Her hair was pulled back in a loose knot and her face bare of any makeup to hide the dark circles under her eyes.

"Hello, Swan."

She grunted and knocked back her own whiskey while he caught Robin's eye behind the bar and signaled for two more.

"Not sure why I bother," she mumbled, staring at her beer. He tapped the table in front of her and nodded towards the bar so she knew where he was going. Picking up two glasses from Robin, he returned and slid in next to her, pulling her into an awkward sideways hug.

She rested her head on his shoulder. "I was in the emergency room last night."

He turned her to face him, giving her another glance over. "Pardon?"

She shifted and pressed her back against the wall, pulling her knees up and to her chest. "Kidney stone. Hurt like a bitch," she said, resting her arms on her knees. Before he could get anything out, she waved her hand. "Passed while I was there. I'm ok."

He reached out and circled his hand around her ankle, rubbing his thumb along the skin exposed by her cuffed jeans. "You should have called."

She shrugged and said, "I called August."

Killian sighed and drank his beer. She was well-versed on his opinion on the subject of August. It had been the reason for the recent strain in their friendship and he'd learnt to keep his counsel.

"Thought he'd give me a ride to the hospital." She took her second shot. "He didn't answer. Didn't even call me later. Just sent a text saying he hoped I felt better." She picked up her beer and gulped down a third of it.

"Oh, Emma," he whispered but she kept her focus on her beer. He tapped against her ankle and reached his other hand out to tip her chin up to look at him. When she finally looked up he repeated, "You should have called. And if you didn't want to call me, Mary Margaret would have come for you."

"I didn't want to bother –"

"Emma," he said sharply. "You are not a bother." He moved closer to her, taking her hands from her knees and coaxing her to unfold her legs so her could pull her back into a hug. "You should have had someone with you," he whispered.

"I'm such an idiot," she muttered into his shoulder.

"Not an idiot, love. Your super power is just a little wobbly around those you care for."

She pulled back and gave him a crooked smile as she righted herself. She nudged his beer towards him and took a drink of her own. He obliged her and finished off his pint.

"Should you even being drinking?" he asked.

"Shove it, Jones." She put her empty glass back down on the table and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. "I'm pulling the rough night card."

He clicked his tongue but gave her a smile anyway. "Fair enough." He poked at her side. "Are you truly all right?"

She nodded. "They sent me home with some painkillers and want me to follow-up with a doctor, but I haven't needed them. I was fine by the time they released me."

"What about the other thing?"

She sighed. "Get us another beer?"

Killian hesitated but knew arguing would get him nowhere. He headed over to Robin and ordered another round.

"All ok there?" Robin asked when he pushed the fresh pints to him. "Haven't seen you two in together of late."

"Aye, mate," he said with a nod. "We'll be all right." Picking up the glasses, he asked, "You still coming by on Tuesday for the match?"

"Of course," he called as he turned to help two guys who'd settled at the other end of the bar.

Killian returned to Emma and pushed her drink to her with a pointed look. "Against my better judgement, Swan."

She laughed and took her glass. "Stop channeling your inner David. One overbearing brother-like figure is enough."

He wrinkled his nose and pouted as he sat. "Nice. I bring you beer and you give me grief."

"Thank you," she sing-songed with a smile and took a sip of her drink.

He followed suit and let them fall into silence, giving her time to work through her thoughts without him pressing her further.

"I'm going to have to break up with him, aren't I?" she asked after a few minutes.

"That's not really for me to say," he replied, doing his best to keep his tone even.

"Bullshit," she bit out.

He started to snap off a reply, but bit down on his tongue and raised an eyebrow instead.

"Is that your way of saying I told you so?" she asked.

"Maybe," he said with a laugh. "But you don't need to decide anything tonight, love."

She sighed and slumped back against the booth.

"How about you let me catch up with my best friend instead?" he continued, bumping his shoulder into hers. "I've had no tales from the glamorous underbelly of the private investigation world. I feel deprived. We can leave the heavy stuff for another night."

She let out a breath and gave him a brilliant smile, one he returned without hesitation. Then stretching out to lean back against the wall again, she crossed her legs and propped her feet up on his lap. Placing one arm on the back of the booth and wrapping his free hand on her top ankle, he listened as she spun out a tale of the latest lover's woe and betrayal to grace her office.