The routine sound of her alarm going off tells her she has yet another dull day at the office to look forward to. Though since it's a Friday, the day might go by not too badly. Hitting the snooze button to stop the obnoxious beeping, she pulls herself to sit upright on the bed trying to be as quiet as she can making sure not to rouse the person next to her. He looks peaceful for the first time in weeks. Work had been really catching up on him and she could see the stress lines beginning to show on his handsome face.

Just as she moved to get off, a pair of strong arms pulled her back.

"I just got back," he mumbles, his voice rough and draggy. "Cuddle with me for a bit."

"I have to get ready for work," she whispers softly, while contradicting her words by letting herself be pulled deeper into his arms. She turns her body to face him, placing soft kisses along his scruffed jaw.

"Then stop kissing me like that," he murmurs, his eyes still closed as he pouts his lips.

"I do have to go," she repeats, kissing him hard on his soft lips.

He reluctantly lets her go, opening his grey eyes as he leans forward to brush his lips against hers once more.

"Alright, alright, Mr. Humbert – I have work to go to."

She pulls herself out of his loose embrace, swinging her legs off the bed and trailing towards the bathroom.

"Graham!"

"What?" he whines from the opposite side of the door.

"Stop leaving your damn boxers on the floor! We have a hamper for that!" she yells, picking his boxers up and throwing it into the laundry basket.

She strips herself bare before stepping into the shower and turning on the spray. She hears the door open but ignores it, continuing to scrub her head. His arms envelope her while he kisses her neck, soft and sweet.

"Sorry?" he murmurs in her ear before trailing his lips along her jawline as an apology, his hands running up and down her water slicked body, pressing his very bare and very hard self against her.

He's already forgiven.

-/-

She picks reads through yet another file, skimming over the agreement and she sighs, dropping the document onto her desk flatly. It's on days like these where she wishes she had chosen another field to go into, instead of rushing head first into law just because both her parents were lawyers.

She wishes she could have chosen a career where she could see what she was doing was helping the world – something like Graham. She likes to think that if she were good at her sciences she would've been a doctor like him, but she's seen the hectic schedule of his, and she just doesn't think she can manage it. She admires him completely – not once had he complained of his daily three-hour nights before being called back into the hospital.

Or perhaps like Ruby. Though she may not necessarily be helping people out, she did something she was truly passionate about. Not that photography was ever Emma's forte, but doing something you loved had to be nice.

1:34PM. Shit. She had lost track of time and seems to have completely forgotten it was her lunch break. Looking outside through her glass walls (yet another thing she hated about work – she always felt like she was on showcase for everyone to see) she notices that majority of the cubicles are empty.

Sighing as she gets up, her chair rolling gently away, she moves towards the elevator. She doesn't have enough time for actual lunch, so she makes her way to the nearby Starbucks a block away.

"Grande, hot chocolate please," she smiles at the barista, as she passes her the money, her usual one (Anne) not seeming to be working today. Just as she's moving towards the collecting area, she remembers that she hadn't asked for added cinnamon. Anne would usually know to add cinnamon, and Emma grimaces at the thought of her cinnamon-less drink.

There are four or five people waiting for their respective drinks before her – a burly Caucasian male, a teen girl with her hair pulled back (shouldn't she be in school?), a handsome dark man with what looks like his sister, and a man that looks about her age wearing a trucker hat and sunglasses (they're indoors for God's sake, she rolls her eyes to herself).

"Caramel Macchiato for Darren, Green Tea Latte for Sasha!" one of the employees call out, and the handsome man and his maybe-sister (she doesn't think she's his sister anymore when they hold hands as they go to collect their drinks) move to get their order. A lady comes behind Emma to join them in their wait for their coffees when the teenaged girl moves to collect her order (Java Chip Frappuccino, typical).

She watches as the burly man taps his foot impatiently on the ground, clearly annoyed that the girl had gotten her drink before he did. As the barista calls out for the man's drink, her phone goes off and it's a call from Graham.

"Hey sweetheart – I'm having a break right now," he sighs relieved on the other end of the line. "How was work?"

"Slow," she grumbles like a five year old, and he laughs on the other end. "And you?"

"Oh, you know, saved some lives – the usual." She can practically hear him grinning and she's rolling her eyes in return. "But in all seriousness – I am beat."

"How about I cook you an amazing dinner tonight? And when I say cook, I mean takeout."

"As much as I'd love that, I've just been scheduled for a surgery at 9 – I'll probably be home late."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry," he sighs.

"No, it's alright, I was thinking of asking Ruby and Mary Margaret out tonight, anyway," she reassures.

"Hot chocolate!" she hears being called.

"Hey, I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Sorry again, darling. Love you."

"Love you too."

She hangs up. She's walking towards the counter when Mr-the-indoor-lights-are-too-bright grabs her drink and takes a long sip.

"Hey!" she yells, and a few more heads than she expects turns. "That's mine!" she snatches the drink from his grasp – and yes, she's very aware that she sounds like a damn child upset over her toy.

The man looks slightly amused, raising a single eyebrow as she narrows her eyes at him. He pulls the cup right out of her hand and turns it so that the name is facing her. And shit, it's not her name that's written down.

"Hot chocolate for Emma!" the boy calls, and she can feel herself going red. She turns immediately grabbing her drink and ready to just go, when Mr-the-indoor-lights-are-too-bright grabs her arm.

"Emma?"

She turns to face him, confusion clearly written on her face until he pulls off his sunglasses.

"Killian."

-/-

They move to the small round table in the corner after the lady that was waiting after Emma showed her clear annoyance at the two of them hogging the counter.

"Geez, people just can't wait huh," she says loudly in the direction of the lady who's giving her the stink eye as she sits down. He's laughing silently, sitting across her and she narrows her eyes at him. "What?"

He shakes his head, smiling. "You just haven't changed the slightest."

"I like to think I've matured just a little bit," she grins at him. "Sorry for, uh, yelling at you about the hot chocolate," she reaches behind her ear and scratches that spot – something she picked up from him all those years ago.

"Nothing to worry about, Swan."

He hasn't stopped smiling and which makes her unable to not smile.

"So what do you do now?"

"I'm in estate law," she answers, taking a sip of her hot chocolate and he nods. "And you?"

"Guess," his smile grows larger, and she quirks an eyebrow.

"A scientist?" He shakes his head. "An accountant?" He's shaking his head again. "A cop?"

"God no! You know how I detest the police!"

"Then what!"

"I'm a football player," he's grinning so widely his eyes sparkle even more than usual.

"In the NFL? I think I'd know- oh! You mean soccer!" It finally clicks when he shakes his head in amusement.

"You Americans have yet to learn what football is," he teases as he takes a sip.

"Not that I know any of the teams, but where are you playing at?"

"NYFC," he says proudly and she assumes it's a good club. "Lass, you don't understand – I'm in the same team as Frank Lampard!" he tells her enthusiastically, leaning forward as he speaks. His face falls when she doesn't share his enthusiasm. "Remember the poster of the man in the white shirt that was on my bedroom wall?"

"Oh!"

She remembers very well now. The poster was hung on the back of his door, and every time she came over to do – well, stuff, it'll be the last thing she sees of his room when he sneaks her out.

"You really did it, huh?"

He shrugs all too modestly. "Anyway! Single? Engaged? Married? Still unable to get over your extremely amazing ex?" he winks at her. As serious as they were when they were together, it's comfortable to joke around like this with him.

"There's a guy," she says slowly and suddenly she feels shy talking about Graham with him. She tries hiding her face behind her now warmer hot chocolate. He looks at her expectantly, urging her to go on. "His name is Graham Humbert," she finally spits out.

"Humbert? You have a thing for Brits don't you, love?"

She wants to say yes, because only British men can pull off calling women love without sounding creepy (though not even Graham can pull it off as well as he does). Instead, she gives him an annoyed look.

Her phone beeps, and when she glances at it, it's Ruby. Dinner at Gran— she reads, stopping mid-text when she notices the time. 2:15PM. Shit.

She gets up abruptly and Killian follows, standing up with her. "Shit, shit, shit. My lunch break ended twenty minutes ago!"

The confusion that was apparent on his face is replaced by an amused look. "You've never been one for time management, Swan."

"Shut up."

"It's true," he says in a singsong voice.

"Okay, now I really have to go. We'll catch up soon, yeah?" she promises and he smiles.

"Definitely."

She's walking away when he yells after her and she turns back.

"Lass!" he calls as he grabs her arm and pulls her back. "You don't have my number," he grins widely and she rolls her eyes at his antics. She pulls her arm gently from his grasp withdrawing her phone from her bag and passes it to him. He types in his number and hands the phone back to her. "Do call," he beams and she rolls her eyes again.

She's late for work, but she hasn't seen Killian for the past six years and she doesn't seem to care. She goes back to work slightly happier than she was leaving. Then again, he always did he always had that effect on her.

Ariel asks her why she's smiling so much when she gets back to work and when she tries to hide it, her lips can't help stop the upward tilt.

At five o'clock, she receives a text from Elsa with an attached picture of… her. Her and Killian that is. It's a clear paparazzi shot of the two of them, and now she gets why he was disguised as Mr-the-indoor-lights-are-too-bright.

You know Jones?!

Long story

Do tell.

Some other time ;)

You're no fun :(

Dinner tonight? w Ruby and MM

She knows Elsa still doesn't feel comfortable around her friends, but she's sure once they're acquainted, the four of them would hit it off perfectly.

I'll tell you then, she promises after a moment of no reply hoping that she'll take the bait.

Give me the time and place, and I'm there.

-/-

God, she didn't even want to be at this party. If it weren't for Mary Margaret's constant pestering, she would still be in her bed.

And now she has to endure a bunch of drunken douches who think drinking and drugs were cool. And shit, Killian was here strutting around like he owned the damn place (probably because it was his house).

Captain of the soccer team yet only a junior, it was no surprise every girl he asked out said yes.

Every girl but Emma Swan.

She wore the title proudly, very aware of the judging looks and the hushed whispers she got from apparently jealous girls in the hallways.

Even as she sits alone on the sofa, having both her friends abandoned her (Ruby was off hunting her next prey, and even Mary Margaret was getting her flirt on), she could clearly hear the envious girls. She's pretty sure she's been dubbed the 'girl who turned down Killian Jones', hearing Amy Smith saying it into her friend's ear. She's never been one to let people get to her, not even during the period of time when she was known as the 'blonde virgin' because apparently being blonde and still a virgin at the age of sixteen is as rare as seeing a unicorn.

She's assigned herself as designated driver, not feeling much in the mood to get drunk. She's had a sip of beer, and that's about it (She still doesn't get why people like is so much – it tastes like piss).

"Emma Swan," August greets loudly, just so she can hear above the blaring music, as he collapses on the empty spot next to her.

"August Booth," she nods her head in acknowledgement.

"A drink?"

She shakes her head and points to the barely drank bottle of beer sitting alone on the coffee table in front of them. He bobs his head as he looks around the room, looking to find something to talk about with her (he's had the biggest crush on her for the longest of times, but August was just August).

"Hm," he hums, nodding towards the corridor connecting the living room to the kitchen, "Jones and Lucas seem pretty cozy – that's a new development."

His words don't really make sense to her until she turns to where he's looking at, and shit – Killian is Ruby's new prey.

She can't seem to peel her eyes away from the scene – her back against the wall, his arm placed flat just above her head, while he leans in and whispers something in her ear. She's not jealous, she swears she isn't – she was the one to turn down his offer to go out on a date on more than one occasion anyway. And everyone knows that Killian Jones doesn't ask a girl out more than once.

She leans up and says something back, and he laughs charmingly at it.

"Emma?" August's voice sounds in her ears and she shakes her head out of her trance.

"What?"

"Do you – uh – wanna get out of here?" he gestures to the door with a nod of his head.

She gives him a sad smile – if it were anyone else, she'd flat out reject them, but August is a sweetheart, always had been, always would be, and she figures he deserves to be treated better than 'anyone else'. "I'm sorry, August, I'm driving Ruby and Mary Margaret back," she uses as an excuse.

"Doesn't seem like Ruby will need a lift back home," he shrugs as moves to stand up, but looking to get the hint. He offers her a smile before he turns and walks towards the kitchen, past the disgusting (not that she cares) duo of Killian and Ruby.

She's definitely not jealous.

She drinks some more, shooting the unsuspecting couple daggers. He isn't leaning over her anymore, though they remain to seem pretty engrossed in whatever they're talking about.

She doesn't know why she does it, but once Ruby walks away, the two of them exchanging nods before she turns away, Emma's marching up to him. She knows he sees her approaching, but he doesn't want to seem too eager, so it's only when she's two steps away from him does he turn towards her.

"Swa—" he doesn't get to finish his greeting before she's pulling his flannel shirt towards her and hauling his lips onto hers in a rough kiss.

He doesn't react immediately, taking a few seconds before he's responding and when he does, he's responding alright. His hands are on her waist and he pulls her flush against him, all the while moving his lips against hers in a well rehearsed dance.

She's the first one to deepen the kiss, opening her mouth to nudge her tongue against his lips, and he follows eagerly, their tongues battling for dominance – though it's hard to tell who's winning (she honestly can't be bothered if she's losing).

She's acutely aware of the cheers and hollers surrounding them, but she doesn't seem to care. She blames the beers she had for her rash actions, but in all honesty, she didn't drink much.

When she finally pulls away, he chases her, placing a few soft kisses on her lips before resting his forehead against hers.

She hears the 'way to go Jones's and the 'it's about time!' (from a voice that sounds familiarly like Ruby's) and she can't stop the soft upwards tilt of her lips.

"Well that was—"

"Take me out – to dinner, lunch, whatever," she breathes and she knows the whole junior year is probably watching on, and it's not a very private first kiss with him, but all that matters right now is him and her.

She doesn't know when she began having feelings for him – maybe during the second date proposal, where he'd gone completely over the top, hacking the school's sound system and asking her whilst the whole student and teacher body listened in (she didn't say yes)(he received detention) – but all she knows is that she doesn't want to see anyone else besides her with him.

"Gods, love, finally."

-/-

"So that was how we got together," she says to Elsa who's been completely attentive throughout the whole story. "I still haven't forgiven you for flirting with him so blatantly," she shoots at Ruby.

"The funny thing is, we were talking about ways to get you to say yes to a date. I wouldn't flirt with him – Jones was yours from the beginning."

"You're kidding."

"Nope," Ruby says, popping the 'p', "I couldn't hear anything over the music – how else were we supposed to plot?" Ruby smirks, and Mary Margaret nods in agreement at the side.

"At least it got the two of you together!" Elsa chimes in all smiles, ever the optimist.

Ruby grins at that, and gives her a 'see?' look, earning an eye roll from Emma.

"You should've seen them – completely adorable—"

"—and inseparable—"

"—in the most nauseating ways—"

"—but also the cutest!" Mary Margaret and Ruby say back and forth, and watching Elsa's head turn from right to left and then back in an attempt to keep up with the two of them was very amusing.

"We all thought they were going to get married," Mary Margaret hums, as she sucks on the straw of her iced tea.

"I still do," Ruby adds and Emma shoots her an empty glare.

"And Graham?"

"I never liked Graham too much," she turns to Elsa with a shrug.

"You only don't like him because you think he's boring!" Emma comes to her boyfriend's defense.

"Not true – I for one have always believed you and Jones are soul mates – meant to be – true loves – whatever you want to call it."

Emma shakes her head because she's never been one to believe in soul mates and true loves, having to go through her parent's messy divorce. True loves aren't real (except for perhaps Mary Margaret and David because those two were made for each other) and soul mates were just a myth. She's never understood marriage – never did, never have – after all, 50% of marriages end in divorce anyway.

"You're ridiculous – It's been over six years, I've moved on, and he probably has, too."

"Oh!" Elsa exclaims suddenly, and all eyes turn to her, "He just got out of a messy break up!"

"How the hell do you know that?" both Ruby and Emma ask in unison.

She gives them a shy grin, "My boyfriend likes the sport – I like the men," she shrugs and Emma can see the wide grin growing on Ruby's face.

"I like the way you think – we should hang out more."

She blushes at that, but turns to look at Emma. "How long were you guys together for?"

"Just over two years – we broke it off during college – the long distance thing didn't really work for us," she shrugs. They're all quiet for a moment, the topic of the end of her relationship with Killian an obvious downer.

"I don't know – I still think Emma Jones, has a better ring to it than Emma Humbert," Ruby mentions suddenly and the mood is immediately lightened.

"I quite like Emma Humbert though," Mary Margaret replies.

Emma shakes her head – she's only been with Graham for just over 10 months. "I don't think I ever want to get married," she shrugs. "I could totally be with someone for the rest of my life – but I don't think I ever want to be called someone's wife. It complicates things, you know?" Both Ruby and Elsa nod in agreement, while Mary Margaret looks confused (she always believed that marriage is the happily ever after). "I'd like to remain Emma Swan for the rest of my life."

"Amen to that," Ruby hollers, sipping her drink. "Enough about Emma's sucky no-marriage-for-me rule," she turns to the newer member of the group, "so, tell us about this elusive soccer watching boyfriend of yours."

Elsa blushes deeply, "Well, his name is Jack."

-/-

It's only on Sunday that she remembers she has his number and decides to call him up. It takes her awhile to find his name, because obviously he'd save his name under 'dashing rapscallion'. The damn idiot.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Swan." Just by the way he says her name, she knows he's grinning on the other end. "Took you long enough to call."

She smiles at that, shaking her head softly to herself. "I think that may be your fault – took me about 10 minutes to find your name." She hears him laugh, followed by a dull thump on his end of the line. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"Absolutely not, love – just got home from training."

"Yeah? Hey, did you know there are pictures of us online?" she asks, suddenly remembering it.

"And this is why I can't have a social life outside of the team," he sighs, and she imagines him pinching the bridge of his nose (he does it whenever he's frustrated). "Sorry about that, Swan."

"It's really no problem," she smiles even though he can't see her. "Ruby and Mary Margaret send their regards."

"Ah, the infamous trio still thick as thieves, huh?" he chuckles.

"Thicker than ever. Come on, I'm sure you're still friends with – what's his name? – Derek something."

"Derek Johnson. And you're kidding – that guy was a git."

"So really no one back from high school?"

"After my mum," he pauses, taking in a deep breath, "I guess I just wanted to start anew."

She's quiet. She knows the whole issue of his parents was/is a big deal to him, and she respects that.

It was right after graduation when he was told that his mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer. They had plans – they were supposed to take a gap year and just be together, but when the news came in, things changed. His mother had wanted to return to England where they had a few relatives that had recently moved from Ireland.

When he'd first moved back, things were okay. They'd call each other constantly (expensive international phone bills be damned) and every few weeks, they'd alternate as to who would be flying to where.

His mother died four months after.

"Hey, I get it. We don't have to talk about if it you don't want to."

She hears the front door opening and Graham's calling out 'Honey! I'm home!' – this month's favorite thing of his to say. She rolls her eyes, because as hard as he tries, his jokes aren't funny. He does try hard enough for it to be called cute.

"In here!" she calls away from her phone, and he's in their bedroom within the next ten seconds. He wraps his arms around her from the back and kisses her cheek sweetly. "I'll talk to you soon, alright?" she says bringing her phone to her ear.

"Alright, Swan. Do try to get back to me sooner. It's always a pleasure with you."

"I'll try," she replies smiling, "Catch up soon," she promises.

She hangs up and throws her phone on the bed, making a soft landing on one of the pillows. She turns in Graham's arms to face him, kissing him hard on the lips.

"Hi."

"Hello, darling," he tilts his head up and kisses her nose. "Who were you talking to?"

"An ex." He frowns at that, and she shakes her head lightly. "From high school." His expressions don't change and she's reminded that he's very insecure. "I haven't spoken to him for over six years, and he was a friend before and after we were dating."

He relaxes at that. "So, have I heard of this guy? Or is he one of Emma Swan's elusive exes?" he teases and she smiles in return but it doesn't reach her eyes. She's mentioned Neal and that he broke her heart, but never why, when or how.

"I think I've mentioned him before – Killian, Killian Jones?"

"What?"

"What?" she asks back confused.

"He used to play for the Celtics!"

"I'm not going to pretend I know what that is."

"The football team! The Irish one! I think he's recently moved to some team in the MLS," he tells her, holding onto her arms as he pulls away from her. "You dated him?"

"Yeah?" she replies shyly.

"You have a thing for the Irish, don't you?" he laughs.

"Funny thing is, he said the same thing the other day," she mentions. "Anyway, do you want to go out and get something to eat? I'm starving."

He pulls her to his side and places his arm over her shoulder, kissing her sweetly at her temple. "Anything for my princess."

A/N: I promise it's a Captain Swan story! Reviews, favourites and follows are very very much appreciated! Thank you for reading :)