"Stuck in a store in the middle of the night" is one of my favorite AU tropes, so I couldn't help but write this for CS. Happy reading!

11 P.M

Killian Jones was in a miserable mood. Today was the year anniversary of his first love dumping him after he had proposed, and he had wanted nothing more than to buy all the liquor he could afford, get back to his apartment, and drink himself into a stupor. Instead, he was stuck here, in the hellhole of America.

Walmart.

The only remotely amusing thing about this situation was the scene he was witnessing in the lobby. A blonde woman who looked to be about his age was glaring at the sliding doors as if she could make them open through the sheer force of will. Suddenly she let out a huff of frustration and he thought she was going to try and smash the glass, but instead she slid down the door until she was sitting on the floor. "What kind of store doesn't tell their customers that they're closing?" She asked irritably.

He arched an eyebrow at her, "This is Walmart, love. Rules of logic and reason cannot be applied here."

She narrowed her eyes at him for a half second before she went back to looking at her phone, something he knew was futile. They were in the very back of the store, and there was no way she had cell service back here. That had been his very first instinct when he realized they had gotten locked in – he tried numerous times to call 911 or the fire department, or literally anyone who could get them out of this place.

Apparently she had been in a restroom and he had been in the bowels of the freezer section when the majority of the lights went out, and after a momentary burst of panic, he found her at the back doors, the realization that they had gotten locked in slamming into him like a freight train. "I suppose we should come up with a Plan B," he said, trying to make conversation, but she didn't even look up from her phone. While he waited for a response, he studied her absent-mindedly. She was younger than him, he thought, but not by much. Her blonde hair shone in the iridescent light from the store, and he tried (and failed) not to notice how long her legs looked while she sat there crouched on the floor.

"Do you mind?" She snapped, her voice sharp, and his gaze flickered to hers, a sheepish look settling over his features at being caught.

"Sorry," he muttered, taking his own phone out of his pocket and glancing at it. "So… what are the odds that this store will open eight hours ahead of schedule?" He asked after a beat, and she rolled her eyes.

"Probably the same odds that got us stuck here in the first place." She slid her phone back into the pocket of her jacket, her green eyes finding his. "Look, I'm sorry for being so rude." She flushed, glancing at the ground, and he got the feeling that she wasn't in the habit of apologizing to people. "I just… I was meant to be somewhere tonight."

"It's fine," Killian said, holding out his hand for her to take. "I'm Killian Jones." He said, smiling at her in a way that he knew made women blush. When she didn't, and merely rolled her eyes, his grin widened.

"I'm Emma," she said, "Emma Swan." She took his hand, letting out a yelp when instead of just shaking her hand, he hauled her to her feet.

"Well Emma, I think we'd best figure out a way to pass the time, wouldn't you say?" He grinned cheekily, chuckling when she pushed past him, scoffing.

11:30 P.M.

A half hour later found them both lying on the floor in the entertainment department, Emma having found the remote that controlled all twelve of the enormous televisions on the wall in front of them. In an incredible stroke of irony, however, Walmart had the worst cable package known to man, and there was nothing on for them to watch besides late night infomercials. Currently, one for a hearing aid that was supposed to be "nearly invisible" was on, and Killian was delighted to learn that Emma had a lovely laugh.

"This is unbelievable," she said through her laughter, and Killian couldn't stop looking at her if he tried. When she tilted her head in his direction and found him staring at her, he blushed and cleared his throat, embarrassed at being caught again.

"So, Emma. Up for a game?"

"Why does that make me nervous?"

This time Killian was the one rolling his eyes. "Twenty questions."

"I don't want to know stuff about you." She said bluntly, and he inwardly winced.

He had already guessed that she was a closed-off person, but so far things hadn't been that awkward, but he could practically see the walls guarding her fly into place and knew he couldn't pry, no matter how intrigued by her he happened to be.

"That came out wrong," she said a minute later, and she looked chagrined as their eyes met. "I just meant… I'm not used to… getting to know strangers." She said the word and scrunched her face in distaste, and his lips twitched with a smile.

"Hence the game, darling. A few questions and we'll be strangers no longer."

Emma pursed her lips, and then her entire face relaxed as she seemingly accepted the idea. "Okay, but I go first."

"Give it your best shot, lass." He grinned at her.

"You have an accent. Where from?"

His smile slipped a little, but he tried to soldier on. "Ireland."

Emma waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't, instead shaking a blank look off of his face and turning to her.

"What about you? Where are you from?"

Why would he ask her that? What were the odds that neither of them wanted to answer a simple question like where they were from? Emma knew her reason – because she had never belonged anywhere. He didn't need to know that about her.

"I'm from Boston," she lied, and he looked at her for a minute before conceding. Just because she wasn't from Boston didn't mean that she didn't enjoy living her now, and it was her home now. That was all that mattered. He didn't need to know any different.

"Job?" She asked.

"I'm a manager of one of the slips at the marina. You?"

"I'm a detective with Boston PD."

"Ooh, an officer of the law? I always did like a woman in uniform," he leered, and suddenly the previous heaviness that had descended over their conversation was gone, and the banter that was quickly becoming familiar was back.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I don't wear a uniform. I'm sort of a freelancer, I guess." She said, and he cocked his head to one side, silently urging her to go on. "You only get one question," she pointed out, and to her horror, he stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. He was actually pouting. (And damn him if he didn't look adorable doing it)

"Come on, Swan, just this once." He kept up with the puppy-dog eyes, seeing that it was working, and suppressed a pleased smile when she sighed.

"Fine." She shifted, unconsciously bringing her body closer to his. They both sat upright with their legs stretched out in front of them, leaning back on their hands. Their shoulders barely brushed, but he felt a spark travel from the point of contact down to his fingertips. Interesting, he thought. He brought himself back to her attention when she began speaking. "I used to work in bail bonds." His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he said nothing. "I did it so often that I got to know some of the policemen pretty well, and after about a year, the Chief offered me a job with the Investigative department. I get a steady paycheck instead of getting paid only when I have a job, so it's easier. For me, and for -" She cut herself off abruptly, her mouth snapping shut.

He decided not to pry. "I've worked at the marina forever." He watched her face closely as relief washed over her before she could school her features back to what he assumed was a well-practiced mask of indifference. "I grew up near the sea in Ireland and always felt at home there." He shrugged, "Moved to Boston when I was nineteen, and got the job just as a way to make rent. The owner at the time was older and needed help, and he took me under his wing. I've worked there ever since."

Emma glanced at him curiously, but didn't say anything. Both of them revealed more about themselves than they ever planned to, but for whatever reason it wasn't awkward.

"I believe it's your question, love."

"What are the chances we could get some food around here?"

12:35 A.M.

In the home and garden department, Emma was sitting at an outdoor table and chair set, complete with umbrella. "I'm starving, can you hurry up, Jones?"

"A masterpiece takes time, Swan!" He hollered back from a few aisles over in the food department.

Emma rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop the smile that bloomed across her face when he finally emerged, a platter of food balanced on one hand as he came closer, that shit-eating grin firmly in place.

"Your meal, milady." He said, setting it down in front of her.

"Wow," Emma said, her eyes meeting Killian's briefly, noting the mirth and amusement in them.

"Don't let anyone say I never took you anywhere," he quipped, sitting down across from her and setting a water bottle in front of her and him. At her questioning look, he smiled, "It was the cheapest thing. I felt bad enough stealing what I did."

"We can always pay for everything tomorrow," Emma pointed out, "I'm sure they'll be chomping at the bit for their Lunchable money," she deadpanned. (A/N: If you don't know what a lunchable is, click here!)

"You jest, but I'll have you know these are a hot commodity! They hardly had any left." Killian laughed, peeling back the cellophane cover of his makeshift dinner to reveal the tiny pizza crusts and ingredients inside.

"Pepperoni, my favorite!" Emma said sarcastically, pressing her hands to her heart, "Oh, I'll just never forget this night."

"Ha ha," Killian said in a dry tone, "Also I think calling that pepperoni is a stretch, darling. Processed food substitute, more like."

"Just shut up and eat, Jones."

They ate in relative silence, every now and then one of them cracking a joke about the absurdity of their situation. Killian was pleased to find that Emma had a very quick and witty sense of humor, and that she could keep up with him intellectually. He had to admit; this night was turning out to be a hell of a lot better than getting drunk alone in his apartment. Despite how much he was enjoying Emma's company, something was making him feel wary, and it wasn't the food they were eating.

Killian had always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, and he knew that he was attracted to Emma. Getting to know her (what little information she gave up, that is) could prove to be a disaster, especially if his heart reacted the way he could already feel that it was – wanting to know more about her, and wanting to spend more time with her. He could tell that something had happened to Emma in the past to make her guarded, and he knew that if were to try to get past the wall of defenses she had surrounding her, it would only end with anger and probably hurt feelings on both ends.

"Is the world ending?" Emma asked, interrupting his moment of introspection. "You haven't spoken in nearly five minutes."

He smiled at her sarcastically. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a barrel of laughs?"

Emma opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by her cell phone ringing. Their eyes met, both of them wide. She scrambled to answer it, knowing that whoever was on the other end was probably their best chance at getting out of here. "Hello?" She gasped, and he saw the disappointment on her face when she continued the conversation. "Oh, Regina. No, I didn't forget, I… No, I know I was supposed to pick Henry up tonight. I got stuck… Regina, just listen, this is important!"

Killian busied himself with his food, feeling as though he was intruding on very private moment.

"Regina, you don't understand, just stop for a minute and… of course I care about Henry! What a stupid question." Emma could feel her face growing hot with anger, and embarrassment that Killian was overhearing all of this. She knew this was just going to lead to more questions that she didn't want to answer. "Tell him I'll be there to pick him up in the morning, but Regina, please I need you to call…" Emma clamped her mouth shut, taking the phone away from her ear. "She hung up." She said to Killian, her face looking so crestfallen that he had an almost uncontrollable urge to reach across the table for her hand. He repressed that particular urge, and instead shrugged his shoulders.

"Ah, who needs her. We're not having a horrible time being stuck in here, are we?" He asked, sending a small smile in her direction to try and lighten the mood. He was rewarded with a slight upward tilt of her lips, but he still felt as though he needed to do something. The strength of the desire he felt to make Emma Swan smile was alarming, but he shoved those feelings aside.

They were quiet for a few more moments as they both finished eating, and in the dim light of the security lights of the store, he could see her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Swan," he said gently, finally giving into the urge to grab her hand. "I don't know all the particulars, but I do know that a beautiful woman such as yourself should never cry."

His flattery did the trick – Emma rolled her eyes and finally met his eyes with her emerald ones. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

Killian grinned at her, relieved when she blushed lightly and looked away, but didn't pull away from him.

3:30 A.M.

"This pillows are disappointingly uncomfortable," Killian declared, pulling one of the aforementioned pillows out from under his head and tossing it to the floor.

"It's a bed for show, people aren't actually meant to sleep here," Emma said from her place next to him.

The interior design section had been their next stop, and one that Killian suspected would be their last, if the rate of her replies to his questions were any indication. They were both getting tired, and he thought that Emma's phone conversation from earlier had worn her out emotionally, adding to the probable physical stress from her day at work. He let his eyes shut for a second, taking a second to enjoy the warmth radiating from her body as they lay on the bed, shoulders pressed together.

"Swan? Who's Henry?" He asked, immediately regretting it when he felt her tense next to him. He knew that his big mouth would get him in trouble, and it was a shame – they had been getting along pretty well for the last few hours.

Killian kicked himself mentally until he felt her shift, turning to face him with her head propped on her elbow. He mirrored her position, hoping the openness on his face was showing. He didn't want to push her and he certainly wasn't about to judge her, God knows he had his own secrets.

"Henry is my son." She said quietly, her free hand idly picking at the threads of the quilt they were laying atop. "That was his… Regina… on the phone. I was supposed to pick him up tonight at 10:30, but I lost track of time in this stupid store and then… well, you know the rest."

"I'm sure he'll forgive you," Killian offered, and Emma shook her head.

"It's not him I'm worried about."

When he didn't ask her another question, she met his eyes once more and took a deep breath. She didn't know why she was about to tell him all this. He was, for all intents and purposes, a complete stranger. He could have been a complete weirdo, or he could just be trying to get in her pants, but for some reason she knew that wasn't the case. She, against all odds, trusted him, and felt compelled to tell him this. After all, he wasn't forced to be here, technically. Walmart was a huge place, and he could have very well left her to deal with being locked in all by herself, but he didn't do that. He didn't leave her alone. See?, a voice that sounded strangely like her son said in her head, not everyone leaves.

"I got pregnant when I was seventeen. I was with someone who I thought was the love of my life." She cleared her throat, "I was wrong. Henry's father… well, long story short, he was conman. We both were."

"A thief-turned-detective. You are a woman of mysteries, Swan." Killian interjected, his blue eyes twinkling at her. It was rather distracting.

"Anyway," she said, eyeing him seriously. He made a motion like he was locking his lips with a key and Emma rolled her eyes. "Anyway, he had stolen some watches. Expensive ones. We were going to trade them in and get some money and move somewhere warm, settle down and have a life together. He set me up. I showed up to meet him, and the police met me there instead. A month later, I found out I was pregnant. I was in prison at the time."

Killian's jaw clenched, his heart going out to the woman who he had only known for a short time, but felt such a strong connection to already. How anyone could have betrayed her like that was beyond him. It went so far past any sense of honor that he had that he couldn't even fathom doing that to someone that he claimed to love. "I'm sorry, Emma."

She waved a hand at him. "It doesn't matter now. What does matter now is that Henry was adopted. Regina adopted him, but when he was ten, he came and found me." Her voice and eyes turned soft as she talked about her son, and Killian wanted to kiss her. "He found me, and convinced Regina to let me have a place in his life. Turns out they'd been living in Boston this whole time, and I never knew. Regina… she's less than supportive. She thinks I'm going to steal Henry away from her, so every excuse she can find to make me sound like a bad mother, she does."

"So tonight was just another strike on a long list." Killian surmised, sounding almost angry to Emma's ears.

"Right."

They were both quiet for a long time before Killian spoke. "He'll know you didn't forget about him, Emma."

"How do you know that?" Emma couldn't help it, the tears were forming in her eyes before she could stop them. "Who knows what kind of garbage Regina is going to fill his head with."

"I'll vouch for you," He offered, only half joking.

"Oh yeah, because you look so trustworthy."

"You know you love it." Killian grinned, his eyes falling shut against his will. Emma was quiet, and he assumed he was thinking, but when he cracked an eye open, he was startled to find her leaning over him, a look he didn't recognize in her eyes. "Emma?" He whispered, feeling for some reason that this moment was important. She didn't answer him, and the next thing he knew, she was kissing him.

Her lips pressed gently against his, the soft slide of her mouth causing a strangled noise to be dragged out of him against his will. Shaking himself out of his daze, one of his hands burrowed itself into her hair, the kiss quickly increasing in intensity. Emma melted into him, their bodies pressed together so tightly as he slipped a leg in between hers, pulling her further on top of him.

Emma moaned, the noise spurring Killian on even more, and his hand slipped out of her hair to cup her cheek, stroking the soft skin of her face in a gentle, soothing motion. His mouth moved to her jaw, their kiss breaking so that they could both gasp for much-needed breath.

"Killian," she whispered, and he froze underneath her, hardly daring to move, or say anything, or breathe, lest she end this altogether. Their eyes met, and he groaned at the look in her green eyes, her pupils dilated and eyes hooded.

"Emma," he began, but she cut him off with another kiss, this one ten times more passionate than their first. All rational thought flew out the window at the feel of her hands sliding into his hair, tugging at the strands, causing him to wrap his arms around her tightly, hips bucking up into hers once, twice, and three times. "Emma… Emma, wait…" He said breathlessly as she moved her attentions to his neck, causing his eyes to flutter closed.

"What?"

"Emma, we should stop." His body was screaming at his mouth to be quiet, but he knew that he would never forgive himself if they went through with this and then she hated him the next day. He couldn't let that happen. "You're… gods, Emma, you're bloody gorgeous and I want you, but you deserve more than this."

She rolled off of him, and immediately missed the warmth of his body, but she knew deep down that he was right. For some reason, being with him like this felt right, and she knew they had only known each other for a handful of hours, but she wanted this. She wanted him. "What, you want to date me?" She teased, and was surprised at the serious look on his face when she craned her neck to look at him.

"I think I'd quite like to take you to dinner, Emma."

She blushed, and he didn't think he had ever seen a prettier sight. "Okay," she said quietly, and they grinned at each other like teenagers.

7 A.M.

"Killian. Wake up." Breath ticked his ear and his face crumpled into a frown at whoever was trying to wake him. He tried to roll over and drag the warm body wrapped in his arms closer to him, but he was awoken rudely by a sharp jab to his ribs, and his eyes flew open.

"Bloody hell…" He groaned, and when he saw Emma next to him, the memory of the night before came rushing back to him. He began to smile at her, an innuendo fresh on the tip of his tongue, before he became aware that they were no longer alone.

Standing before them were two store employees, both teenagers, and both looking horrified. "Dude…" One of them said to Killian, "You can't sleep here…"

"We were locked in, I told you that!" Emma said from next to him, and he quickly released her from his embrace, both of them quickly getting off of the bed they apparently spent the night on.

"No harm done, gents. If you don't mind, we'll be on our way."

"You…" the other young employee spluttered, "you have to pay for those," he said, pointing at the sheets.

Emma looked terribly embarrassed, and Killian felt a small burst of anger well up inside of him. He narrowed his eyes at the young boy, and leaned closer, "I beg your unbelievable pardon?"

"If you… if you two…" The kid gestured uselessly at the bed, "We can't just leave those sheets there."

"I'm going to ignore the fact that you are talking so rudely about this woman right to her face and instead address the second issue: we were locked in this store," Killian said, feeling a small dent in his anger when Emma, who had been hiding behind him in an attempt to reclaim some of her dignity, slipped her hand into his and squeezed it slightly, "We were locked in here, and instead of getting your manager to apologize to us, you want to talk about buying bedclothes?" Killian's voice was tight, and the two boys cowered away from him before turning away completely, hopefully to find someone else to sort out this whole mess.

Emma smacked his arm, but she was smiling as she came to stand in front of him, and he took a moment to appreciate the way she looked first thing in the morning, after a night of sleeping in his arms. "We could just pay for that stuff, Jones."

"It's the principle of the thing," Killian said, sniffing haughtily. "They owe it to us."

Emma rolled her eyes, "You're forgetting we're in Walmart."

"Too right, love." Killian agreed, grabbing her hand and her purse off of the floor. "You know what, let's let bygones be bygones. I think you owe me a date, Miss Swan."

"Now?!"

"Do you not eat breakfast? Because I can wait for lunch." He grinned at her, a dimple appearing in his left cheek.

Emma smiled softly, reaching a hand up to touch his face gently, her fingers scraping his stubble. "I need to go home and shower before work."

"Aye, but you also need to eat," he reasoned.

"… Can we get pancakes?" She asked, and he couldn't help it, the emotions coursing through him were so strong that he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple, feeling so overwhelmed with affection for this woman that he still barely knew.

"I'll eat whatever you want as long as I get another hour with you," he said, and Emma blushed, even as she punched his arm.

"That was terrible."

"But you're pretty when you blush, Swan."

"Shut up and take me to breakfast, Killian."

"As you wish…" He sang into her ear, pressing another kiss to her hair as they walked to the store, leaving the two workers staring dumbfounded after them.

FIN