Original One-shot for Nicki, my CSSS!

When he first saw her on the bus, it was a Thursday. A hot, summer, Thursday morning. Sweat clung to her forehead just as it did with everyone else who had to wait for their commute in the ovens the city tried to pass off as "bus-stops".

Unlike most commuters, she smiled. Most everyone wore tight frowns and blank faces, cutting themselves off from other people. Their expressions said, I am here because I need to be. I have a place to go, a task to complete, and it's none of your business. I will get off at my stop and you will forget about me and we will both go our merry ways and finish our tasks.

He frowned like that.

But her face was open. Her grin sang, Don't forget me.

And he didn't forget her.

All week he kept recalling her face, her smile, the joy that echoed in her voice when she had asked for directions. He saw her beaming at random times. When he was making dinner, walking his dog Smee, or returning to his desk at work.

It wasn't until a week later that he saw again. This time she wasn't smiling. She had that closed off face, shutting everyone out. And it upset him.

He wasn't sure why, but he wanted to see her smile again.

So he- and whatever compelled him to do this he did not know- approached her and asked her is she was alright.

She was taken aback by his question, and quite frankly, so was he.

"I- yes, I'm fine," she answered. And while he expected her to be shocked and maybe even frightened by a stranger being so forthright, he didn't expect to see her look relieved. She smiled again, which made his heart leap. "Thank you for asking." I needed that, was her silent message. I needed someone to see.

Again, he didn't see her for a week, and the summer sun, which he usually managed to tolerate, seemed even hotter, his workload heavier, and days longer.

The next week when he saw her on the bus, he tried to avoid her gaze. But she was just like that summer sun, her golden locks begging for him to look. She glanced at him every now and again, and just before she got off, she moved towards him and this time asked him if he was okay. And it was strange, because he realized for the first time that he wasn't.

Ever since he'd seen her smile, took in her innocent joy, he'd realized how empty and bare his life was.

He'd never smiled like that. He'd never had a reason to.

"I don't know," he told her. And she nodded like she understood.

"Have a nice day." Her voice was soft but brisk. She got off at her stop and he didn't see her again for a week.

The next time, she sat in the seat in front of him and turned so they were eye to eye.

"What's your name?" she asked politely.

He gave her a half-smile and replied, "Killian Jones. And you?"

"Emma. Swan." She sounded wary, as if she weren't sure talking to him was such a good idea, but she didn't leave. "Do you mind if I ask where you're going?"

He shrugged. "Work."

She lifted an eyebrow that said, And...?

"I'm a salesman... I sell... well boats actually."

She wrinkled her eyes in amusement. "That's an odd job."

He smirked. "Pays the bills, I suppose." There was a pause. "Do you mind if I ask where you're going?"

Then she shut down. That frown appeared again. He regretted the question immediately.

"Hm."

"I'm sorry," Killian said quickly. He wanted that smile again, those open eyes.

She shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. You're supposed to only ask questions you'd be willing to answer yourself... I think." The flustered manner in which she spoke told him, I haven't had to do this in awhile... talk to someone new.

"It's okay," he promised. "I asked if you'd mind, and if you would, I don't need to know."

One corner of her lip tugged upward and she nodded shyly. "Thanks."

He shrugged again.

"What do you do besides boating- or, uh, boat selling?" she asked.

He laughed. "Well I actually do sail. It's one of my favorite things to do."

"No kidding!" Her eyes darted towards the door of the bus and she frowned. "I have to get off here. See you around, captain."

"See you around, Swan."

The next week, she sat in front of him again and they talked about quite a few things. He learned that she worked freelance as a bailbondsman. He also learned that her favorite color was red because it was, to her, a strong color.

"If that makes any sense," she added.

He raised one eyebrow and grinned. "I hear it's also the color of r-r-romance." He rolled his 'r' and smiled even wider at her reaction. She snorted when she laughed and covered her mouth, but it only made her laugh more. And that laughter was contagious enough that he joined in.

Haven't laughed like this in awhile, he noted in the back of his mind.

Each week for nearly 3 months, they talked. And in between each Thursday morning he'd miss her like crazy. He almost wondered if he were crazy. He'd never felt so strange.

Perhaps I ought to see a doctor, he mused one Wednesday night as he was lying in bed. Or maybe I should just ask her for her number.

So he planned out his conversation starter, went over it in his head repeatedly. He sat in his usual seat and waited patiently for the bus to reach her stop. But when it did, she didn't board.

She was probably just running late, he conceded, though he doubted himself.

But she didn't board the next week or the week after that.

After a month, he thought he'd never see her again. And that broke him.

The leaves were changing colors and the air was growing cold when he walked down to the pier one Saturday morning. Sailing was the only thing that could take his mind off of... her, and with winter coming, the water would soon freeze over and he'd have no escape at all.

She was waiting there, her legs dangling off the pier, elbows resting on her thighs and head held up by her clenched fists.

"Emma?" he called, hesitant. Is it really her? How could she be here? Now?

She turned when she heard her name, head rising and long curls bouncing. "Killian," she answered, moving to stand up and greet him.

Much to his surprise, she embraced him upon approach- a kindness he returned enthusiastically.

He beamed, his heart swelling in his chest. "I was planning to ask you for your-" That was when he saw her eyes. They were red and puffy. "You've been... crying."

She nodded and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "I know I- I was hoping you'd be here. I wasn't sure. I had to leave because of a job, and by the time it was done there was no reason for me to come back except-" She stopped and shook her head. "I just- every week I looked forward to talking to you and... well I missed you and I wasn't sure if I'd see you again but I-" She stopped and again and sighed in frustration, having trouble voicing her feelings. "You want to know where I was going every Thursday?" she asked him.

He had never really cared, knowing it was none of his business, but he saw a gleam in her eye, something that cried out to him, I need to tell someone.

"Where were you going?"

She wiped another tear that had managed to sneak down her chin. "I was visiting my son."

Killian raised his eyebrows but remained silent.

"His father has custody and I've only recently been in the area. I was seeing him while he was on summer break whenever his father would let me, but now he's back in school and Ne- his father claims I'll only be a distraction..."

Killian furrowed his brow and took her hands in his. "I'm sorry. I didn't know- I mean... of course I didn't I just... I wish there was something I could say or do to help..."

She swallowed and shook her head again, staring down at his hands. "There's really nothing that can be done for now. I mean... I know this will sound crazy but I like you a lot- is that crazy-? I just- I just need... something to hold on to. If... if you're okay with that."

Once again she had that look. I've never had to do this before. I've never wanted to do this before. How do I confess something like this?

He nodded furiously. "I'm more than okay with that."

She frowned. "Your hand," she whispered.

He followed her gaze to his prosthetic hand and grimaced. "I never mentioned that... I seem to forget it's there. It was... a boating accident." Shit, Killian. Now she'll wonder what else you're hiding, or she'll think your weird or ugly or-

She smiled softly and raised the prosthetic to her lips, giving it a gentle kiss. The gesture was so warm and loving he had a hard time comprehending it.

"I'm sorry," she muttered.

"I'm sorry," he echoed involuntarily, not sure how to react but wishing he could say a heartfelt comment in return or offer her something- anything.

She looked at him curiously but she knew immediately what he meant.

"Were you going to go sailing, or did you just come here to look at the water?" she half-joked.

He grinned. "Would you like to join me?"

"Well since you asked..."

"I guess I did."