AU: Moving In

Emma was happy. Emma was beyond happy. She and her son had found a new place to stay after New York didn't work out too well (crazy ex-fiancé) and things seemed to be starting to fall into place. The price on the apartment was fairly reasonable and it was big enough for the two of them. Boxes were still strewn everywhere around the floor in every corner and every bit of empty space. But the previous owners had left behind a gaming system and Henry had drawn his mother into playing Sharpshooters for the past 3 days, delaying any unpacking that she had originally planned to do.

She was just about to surpass Henry in the game when she jumped. There was a knock at the door.

"Henry. Pause."

He did as he was told. Emma stole a glance at the clock (which hadn't yet been hung on the wall). Almost 1:30. Great, she thought, annoyed neighbors.

As she grabbed her mug of hot chocolate and removed herself from her spot on the couch and made her way to the door, she grumbled about the fact that she was about to deal with what was most likely an old married couple. She found her way around the boxes stacked high to the ceiling (almost knocking them over) and grasped her hand on the doorknob.

She swung the door open. "I am so sorry. My son and I were just-"

She stopped short, mug of hot cocoa still in her hands. She felt her heart pumping loudly in her chest as she just stared for a moment. Here in front of her was a man. A man with sex-tousled hair and just the right amount of scruff and the bluest eyes she had ever seen (she was pretty sure they were made from real stars). He was standing before her in boxers and an old t-shirt. Not exactly what she had expected. But not complaining either.

"You and your son were just...what? Keeping me awake?" he stated bitterly, snapping her back into reality with his, of course, accented, voice. What was that? Irish?

"Um...yes I suppose so. I'm terribly sorry sir we were just uh...breaking in the new gaming console. I'm Emma. Emma Swan." She motioned awkwardly to the living room, where Henry was now sitting and playing on his phone. "That's my son, Henry. We just moved in."

"Yes I gathered that much, love," he stated tiredly.

After a long awkward silence, she figured she should break it. "And you are?"

"Killian Jones...I'm also not in the mood for a meet and greet at the moment so if you wouldn't mind-"

"Yes! Of course. We'll quiet down," she reassured him. "Kid, time for bed," she called to Henry, resulting in an uncooperative groan.

"Again I'm really sorry sir it won't happen again." She said, turning back to him. She was surprised to find that he was looking at her. He had finally met her gaze after standing there for what felt like a lifetime. Something changed in his face. His scowl softened into a look of admiration, which he was clearly trying to cover up. She could tell he was trying to get a few words out, but not managing very well.

"Thanks...and um...sorry for being so short with you. But uh...a man needs his beauty sleep," he finally replied.

Emma chuckled. Since when do you chuckle? Something about him made her nervous. She felt butterflies in her stomach. What are you doing, she asked herself. Now is not the time for flirting.

"I suppose so. As does this woman. So...goodnight sir."

"Please. Just call me Killian," he responded with a new look in his eye; a spark of curiosity.

"Okay. Goodnight...Killian."

After receiving a nod from him, she closed the door.

When Emma awoke the next morning, she was bombarded by the sound of...who was that? Asia? Yes. Heat of the Moment was blaring through the speakers of what she could tell was a high quality sound system in the room next to hers. Killian.

Against her will, she pulled herself out from under the heavy sheets of her new bed, threw on her bathrobe and slippers, and trudged toward the door.

"I'm going to kill this son of a bitch," she murmured to herself.

In the hall, the music was coming through even louder. With much frustration, she knocked several times on the door of his apartment.

It swung open to reveal a smiling Killian Jones, bobbing his head to the beat of the music and lip-syncing (quite badly, if Emma might add) to the lyrics of the song. Idiot, she thought. Cute, sexy, stupid idiot.

He left the door open for her and walked back into his room, heading toward the small countertop he called a kitchen, still dancing off the beat. He looked like a child, but something about how he was so carefree made her smile (which she quickly tried to hide).

"What the hell, Jones," Emma said, composing herself and walking slowly into the apartment.

"Just dishing up a bit of morning sustenance, love," he declared, making her breath catch in her throat. Why his accent had such an effect on her she had no idea. Maybe it was the fact that it cascaded out of his mouth as smooth as butter in a deep tone that had her knees wobbling and her insides churning. But that's just a guess.

He held a pan out to her. "Eggs?" he asked her smugly.

"Uh...no thanks."

He shrugged and took a big bite of them himself.

"So…what is all of this about?" she asked him, almost having to yell over the music that was still coming strong through the speaker system.

"Sorry, lass, what was that?" he shouted, still tapping his leg to the beat as he engulfed the rest of the eggs.

With a loud huff, Emma marched over to the stereo and hit the off button so hard she wouldn't have been surprised if she had broken it. She put a hand on her hip and watched him put down the pan of eggs, now gone. He stared at her with mock disbelief and then conspicuously raised an eyebrow.

"I was listening to that, you know," he said with a small smirk.

"Very funny. So is this just payback for what we dished out to you last night? Cause if it is, you've made your point."

"Ah, very perceptive, Swan. However could you have guessed?" he stated sarcastically, sauntering over to her slowly. Focus, she reminded herself.

"Well now that we're even I would appreciate if you would not deafen me with your…extremely good taste in music while I'm trying to sleep. Now if you'll excuse me I have to start unpacking. I don't think there's any point in trying to go back to bed."

Emma turned to leave. She was stopped short by his voice, more eager than she would have expected.

"Wait! I could um...be of some use to you. I've got a good set of arms. Allow me to help you get fully moved in." His voice was wavering slightly and she couldn't tell if he was nervous or just surprised at himself for offering to help people he'd only just met.

As she turned back to him, her face was full of uncertainty. Should she let this stranger into her home? Then again...they weren't exactly strangers anymore. Having been in each other's homes in nothing more than their skimpy pajamas, they were fairly acquainted by now. It was time for a leap of faith.

"Sure..." she began."I'd like that." She finally managed to break out a small smile. It had no traces of sarcasm or snarkiness in it, but it was purely there because she was happy.

His face lit up as if he were almost eccentric at her response.

"Don't get too excited, Jones. Give me an hour to get dressed. Then you can come on over," she said, rolling her eyes.

"I look forward to us meeting again," he said with a bow. Who does this dork think he is? She asked herself with a grin.

"Yeah, yeah," Emma laughed as she walked out of his apartment and into the hall, closing the door behind her.

Pants. Check. Blouse. Check. Shoes and jewelry and hair and makeup. Check.

For once, she would actually be decent in front of her neighbor.

"Henry!" she called into the other room. She could already hear the gunfire from his video game.

"What mom?" was his muffled reply.

"Our new neighbor, Killian is coming over in a minute to help us unpack. It would be much appreciated if you set down the game console and gave us a hand?"

"Mooooooommmm. I'm almost to level 25!"

She strolled into the living room and to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of juice.

"Well, you can reach level 25 after we get unpacked and settled in."

"Please mom?"

Sigh. She was a sucker for his puppy dog eyes and whiney voice.

"Alright, kid. But only because I know what comes on level 25," she replied with a grin.

"Uh huh…are you sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you want to be alone with the attractive new neighbor?"

Emma choked on her orange juice. This kid was way too observant for his age.

"Henry!" she scolded.

"Sorry mom! But you know that I've always been able to read you like a book."

She rolled her eyes, knowing what he said was true. Henry had been the only good thing in her life for years. He was like a shoulder she could lean on, despite being only 12 years old. He was her rock, which of course caused him to mature much faster than most of his friends. Not many people would expect such a young mother to raise such a responsible kid. But she had promised herself long ago that just because she had had a shitty childhood with terrible morals and no one telling her right from wrong, didn't mean her son had to go through the same thing.

Knock knock knock.

"Oh, mom, better go greet your boyfriend."

"Henry, we met last night for about 2 minutes. Give it a rest."

Getting closer to the door, Emma found herself fiddling with her hair and clothing, making sure she looked presentable. He had only ever seen her either half asleep or half asleep plus the addition of old ratty pajamas. First impressions were certainly out the window for the both of them. But a good third impression was not entirely out of the question.

When she opened the door, she was met with his usual cocky grin. He raised an eyebrow and it made her heart flutter inside her chest. The smallest things this man did made her insides turn to mush. Not to mention that he had cleaned up as well. He wasn't in his boxers this time, which she wasn't sure if she should have been relieved or disappointed about. His legs were covered by a pair of form fitting Levi's and on top he had a light blue t-shirt with a (quite sexy) leather jacket over it, which somehow brought out the blue in his eyes even more than usual.

"Well, darling, isn't it nice to see you again. Although this time, I see, you have abandoned the bedhead look?" he teased, which she met with a half grin and a blush. "I must say, as much as I adored you when you were in your jimjams, I am not completely blinded by your taste in street wear fashion."

"Uh…thanks?" She knew her face was getting redder by the second and she was beginning to scold herself for being so frail, bending under the influence of his words so easily. "You clean up pretty nice yourself. But I must say, I am missing the pirate ship boxers."

His smile spread across his whole face and he began to go red. Glad to know I'm not the only one blushing here, she mentally noted.

"So I hear that there is some unpacking that needs to be done..."

"'Some' doesn't even begin to cover it. We brought way more than we should have from New York. Follow me."

She turned to lead him to the kitchen, and they had barely gone 5 feet when Emma heard a thump from behind her. She turned around quickly, only to discover Killian face down on the floor with a few knocked over boxes on his side. Her laughter bubbled over and she clutched her chest as to try to stop herself. Making her way over to him to give him a hand, she noticed that he was laughing, too.

"Sorry, love! Didn't mean any harm to your boxes!"

She spoke through her laughter, "please! Jones, I shouldn't have had them in the way."

"Ha…I guess I'm just a bit clumsy," he admitted with a grin, "but hey I make up for it with my skills in bed." He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively and smiled.

She smiled back at him and rolled her eyes, her laughter now fading away.

"You are something else."

"Ah, that I am, love."

She shoved him lightly on the arm. (Fuck he was ripped too? Of course).

"Just start unpacking you idiot."

"Oh wait! I almost forgot!" Without another word, he had run out of her apartment as quickly as he had come in. No more than 15 seconds later, he came bounding back in with a candle the size of his head in his hands. He presented it to her with a slight bow. "A housewarming gift for you, my lady."

Emma opened her mouth, not quite knowing how to respond. "I think you're living in the wrong century my good sir," she said with a hint of mockery in her voice.

"Oi! You going to accept my gift or not?" he asked, still bowing.

She laughed and took the candle from his grasp and he stood back up. She looked at the label of the candle and her smile began to fade into a look of shock. Cinnamon Spice.

"Cinnamon?" she asked.

"Yeah. Last night I noticed you had cinnamon on top of your cocoa. Not many people do that so I figured you must like cinnamon. It's not much but –"

"No. It's perfect. I didn't even think you were paying that much attention last night. Thank you." She smiled wholeheartedly at him and he smiled back. They held each other's gaze and they seemed to have forgotten the world around them until Killian broke the silence.

"So! Boxes!"

Emma quickly blinked herself out of her daze. "Oh yes. Those…"

They had been going through boxes for about an hour, sorting things into groups: breakable, not breakable, cups, plates, utensils, etc. each of them being assigned to a particular group. It had become sort of a game for them, seeing who could find the most items that fit in their group per box. Eventually, there was laughter and teasing and several broken plates and glasses, but Emma didn't care. This was the most fun she had had in a long time with a man other than Henry.

"Care to grab the next box, Jones?" she suggested after going through yet another box full of cups and plates. (Emma had won that round).

"Why, I would be honored, dear Swan," he replied with a gentlemanly nod of his head. Whatever tension had been between them before had been tucked away, replaced by comfort and ease. They were getting to know each other. They were having fun. Not to mention that she was learning quite a bit about him.

So far she knew that he worked down by the docks fixing boats and leading private groups out on the water on the weekends. He had a brother named Liam who he was very close with but he rarely saw due to his still living in Northern Ireland, where his family grew up. He had been involved with a married woman a few years back and was heartbroken for a while after she left him. This fact led to an awkward silence between them, until Killian dropped and broke yet another wine glass, resulting in the two of them busting out laughing for about the sixth time within a duration of 15 minutes.

She was a bit more cryptic with her backstory. There wasn't much information about her past that she wanted someone she had just met to know. She told him about her ex fiancé in New York, Walsh, and how he had been becoming hostile to the point where he was dangerous at times. The thoughts about him still haunted her sometimes, but it was getting better. She was angrier about it than she was upset.

Killian made his way back to her with a new box in his arms. He set it down in front of her gently.

"Shall we open it?" he asked with a raise of his eyebrow.

"I think we shall," she answered with a teasing smirk.

With one smooth motion, he swung open the flaps of the box. There was a small piece of fabric sitting on top. He reached in and pulled it out. It was a white woolen thing with purple ribbon and a name crocheted into the side of it. It was Emma's baby blanket.

"Well what do we have here? I don't think this is supposed to go in your kitchen, is it Swan? Or is it some weird cooking kink of yours?" he questioned, completely clueless.

She moved fast, jumping up from her spot on the tile floor and snatching it out of his hand, holding it close to her body. "It's nothing."

His look was slack jawed and surprised. "I'm sorry it was just sitting on the top."

Calm down, Emma. It's not a big deal. Just chill out…

She sighed, closing her eyes and scolding herself for freaking out so much. "No, no I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped it's just…this is really important to me and I've been unsure as to where it was since we moved. So…I guess I should be thanking you for finding it, actually."

He looked down at his feet like a shy little boy. "Um…you're welcome. I didn't mean to trigger anything."

There was a heavy silence. When he finally spoke again, his voice was soft and focused.

"You know, Emma…I don't want to pry or anything. But I do know from experience that if there's something you're holding in, the best way to feel better is to let someone into your life so you can talk about it. If you ever decide that you want someone like that…I'm here."

All she could do was stare. Was she hearing this right? "Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I mean it. I'm a man of honor. I mean what I say."

The intensity and yet simplicity of their eye contact was heavy in the air. She realized how close they were now standing and how they had instinctively turned into each other. In the blink of an eye, without knowing what was even happening, he was leaning in slowly. The blue in his irises were slowly starting to decrease as he closed his eyes and she closed hers. They were inches apart when she heard a voice from the other room.

"Mom!" Henry called.

Emma's eyes shot open, noticing the proximity at which they were standing, and quickly stepped away.

"Henry if you want to speak to me you can come in here instead of yelling."

She could feel herself blushing. She could see him blushing. They were about to kiss. How is that possible? They had known each other for a day. What was even happening?

"Sorry about my son," she turned to Killian awkwardly. Why was she apologizing to him? It's not like they were doing anything really…

But he didn't seem fazed. In fact, he seemed to be grinning to himself.

"What?" she asked him incredulously.

"If I didn't know any better, Swan, I would say that we were about to kiss."

Her voice was caught in her throat. She had to force out her next words. "So what if we were?"

"So…I wouldn't mind if that were the case."

It was like her was staring laser beams into her eyes. She was caught under the spell of his stare and when she tried to break it, he only drew her back in with his smirk. Finally, she managed to grin back at him. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

Henry finally walked into the room, phone in his hand.

"Mom, Grace wants me to go to the play castle to hang out. Can I go?"

"Henry, you met her 2 days ago at the park. You hardly know her!"

"Her dad will be there. It's fine mom."

Her motherly instincts had been on high alert lately, what with the new town and new people. Closing her eyes tightly and shaking her head she said, "Fine. Go. Be careful and call me when you get there."

"Thanks mom. Wait...is this that neighbor?" Henry inquired, giving a knowing look to his mother.

"Yes! Henry this is Killian Jones. Killian this is my son, Henry."

Killian held his hand out to Henry, like the gentleman he was proving himself to be. "Nice to meet you, my good sir. You have quite the mother here."

Henry chuckled. "I know. She's pretty great, huh?" he responded knowingly.

Killian glanced over to Emma for a brief moment. "Yeah," he said, "pretty great."

"Well I should go. I don't want to keep Grace waiting. Bye Mr. Jones!" Henry shouted as he hopped off to the door.

"Just Killian, lad! Just Killian!"

And with that, the door closed and they were alone.

A short silence ensued before they turned to each other with silly grins on their faces and erupted into laughter.

"That is quite the boy you've got!" Killian complimented.

"Oh yeah. He's something. He gets everything he wants. I spoil him too much. It's a habit."

"Well I like him. Seems like you've done a great job at raising him."

"Why thank you, sir, you're so kind. But now I think we are in dire need of a wine break!" Emma suggested.

Killian laughed his hearty laugh again. "Yes! With the glasses I have actually managed not to break."

Five minutes later they each had a glass of chardonnay in their hand and were standing in the kitchen talking.

"So. Henry," Killian initiated, "He got himself a girlfriend already?"

"Oh goodness no. If I'm being honest, he doesn't seem completely interested in girls just yet. I think he's somewhere in between the cooties and the crush stages."

"Ah. I see. Well I like the lad. Hanging with the ladies any chance he gets. Reminds me of me."

"Ha, ha very funny," Emma said with a smile.

And so they stood, alone in the kitchen, amidst the clutter of boxes and scattered objects. They were quiet for a while, just drinking their wine in silence. Then Killian spoke.

"I say that we need to make a toast," he held out his glass and cleared his throat, "to the fact that instead of at some bar in the city right now, I'm with a great blonde woman, who I could possibly bed later…" he said with a smirk, on responding in her shaking her head with a small laugh. "To Emma and Henry. To my wonderful new neighbors. To a new start."

Emma held her glass up and clinked it with his. "To a new start."