The Wedding Date—pt. 1

A/N: This story was originally posted as chapters 20, 21, 23 and 24 of my story collection "Fluffy Fridays". It got really long, and kind of took on a life of its own, so I decided it deserved a chance to be a story in its own right. Enjoy!

Emma took a deep, fortifying breath as she pulled open the heavy station doors. She felt more like a death-row inmate than the sheriff of the small, coastal town of Storybrooke, Maine.

How did she get herself into these kinds of situations?

Mary Margaret, that's how.

She loved her sister-in-law, don't get her wrong, but when Mary Margaret Nolan got an idea into her head, there was no reasoning with her, no stopping her, and the idea that had been in Mary Martaret's head ever since she'd married Emma's foster brother, David, was that Emma needed to find a true love of her own.

Love was great…for other people like Mary Margaret and David, but Emma had tried the whole "falling in love" thing about a decade ago, and that one, terrible experience had taught her that she never wanted to go through the kind of pain Neal Cassidy put her through ever again.

But trying to convince Mary Margaret of that fact was like trying to reason with an excited toddler. "No" simply wasn't in her vocabulary. It seemed like every time Emma went to visit the Nolans in their cute, homey little cottage in the little town of Misthaven, Mary Margaret had a new man, a new "friend of a friend" that she wanted to set Emma up with.

The last one, Walsh, was an utter nightmare. He had this weird obsession with monkeys, even going so far as to insist he had simian DNA running through his veins. Suffice it to say, he was more than a little bananas.

Anyway, Emma had vowed then and there that she'd never subject herself to Mary Margaret's matchmaking schemes again, and that's how she found herself in her current predicament.

Mary Margaret's sister, Regina Mills had finally found the love of her life in the widower Robin Locksley, and the couple planned to marry in a little more than a week. Robin and his adorable little son had softened Regina's prickly heart to such an extent that she was barely recognizable. That, combined with the fact that Regina's love life took Mary Margaret's focus off of Emma, made Robin Emma's new favorite person for several months running.

But with this morning's phone call from Mary Margaret, Emma's reprieve from the matchmaking had come to an abrupt end.

"Oh Emma!" Mary Margaret enthused, "your bridesmaid's dress finally came in, and it's gorgeous!"

Emma pictured the formal, red ball gown in her mind and smiled to herself. Gorgeous indeed! She'd spend the whole night feeling like a princess suddenly attending her first ball—a princess who could barely breathe in her tight, corseted bodice, but a princess nonetheless. "Great! Looking forward to seeing everyone next weekend. The wedding's bound to be a blast, if there's one thing I know about Regina—and particularly her wedding planner, Ruby Lucas, it's that she knows how to throw a good party."

"That she does," Mary Margaret said with a laugh. "Knowing Regina, if this wedding is the social event of the year, heads will roll."

"Probably." Emma was still amazed Regina had chosen her as one of her bridesmaids. The two of them had clashed since the moment they met at David and Mary Margaret's wedding four years ago. Though the ice had thawed a bit, Emma didn't think she and Regina would ever be friends—certainly not "ask each other to be in our respective weddings" friends. Still, it was an honor to be chosen.

"There was one other teensy, tiny reason I called, Emma," Mary Margaret said slowly, cautiously. Emma scowled, immediately on guard. She knew that tone of voice, and it never boded well.

"Okay," she said slowly. "What's that?"

"Well, the thing is," Mary Margaret said, "it took me forever to get Regina to agree to do all the traditional wedding reception stuff—you know, kiss when people clink their glasses, have a first dance, all of that. Despite it being their wedding, Regina was insistent that her and Robin's private romantic moments were not to be on display to the whole town. I finally came up with a solution that she found acceptable…but it might be really…awkward…unless you have a date."

Emma groaned inwardly. She should have known this was coming!'

"You know," Mary Margaret continued, "Robin has this friend…well not really a friend, more of a frenemy. Name's….something…Nottingham. Maybe he could be your…"

"NO!" Emma said quickly, emphatically. Why hadn't she anticipated this? A wedding was about as couple-y of an event as there was. Of course Mary Margaret would use the wedding to kick off the latest "find Emma a man" campaign.

"Now Emma," Mary Margaret said in her best school-teacher tone, "there's no need to be so adamant. I admit, Walsh wasn't…my best idea ever, but you could at least give Nottingham a chance."

Emma blew out a frustrated breath. How was she going to get out of this without hurting her sister-in-law's feelings? Well there was one way, but it was absolutely crazy…

"It's just…it's just that I don't need your help finding a man. I…kind of have a boyfriend."

Mary Margaret squealed and dropped the phone as she clapped in delight. "WHAT?! You have a boyfriend? Why didn't you tell me? Who is he? What's his name?"

Emma panicked. She hadn't thought this out nearly carefully enough. She said the first name that popped into her head. "Killian. His name is Killian Jones."

And that was precisely how she found herself in her current predicament.

She groaned as she shed her coat and took a sip of the strong, black coffee she'd picked up on the way to the station. What had she been thinking? Of all the men she could have named, why had she named Killian as her fake boyfriend? The man had been a constant pain in the ass ever since she'd taken office. More times than not, when she got called out to an incident, he was at the center of it. It was never anything major with him, just the ever-present nuisance offences—drunk and disorderly conduct, disturbing the peace, the occasional break-in—where the idiot didn't even take anything. If she didn't know better, she'd swear Killian Jones was constantly just messing with her.

And if all of that wasn't bad enough, Killian was hot as hell with his longish, messy coal black hair and his startlingly blue eyes. He was hot—and well he knew it, barely able to string two sentences together without an innuendo, constantly invading her space each time she let him out of his cell after a stint of his normal mischief, calling her "love" in that sexy, sultry British accent of his. He was a menace to society. The female half at the very least.

And she had to find a way to ask him to be her fake boyfriend. How did she get herself into these kinds of situations?!

At least she wouldn't have to go looking for him. He currently sat in one of her jail cells, and from the sound of it, he wasn't enjoying the amenities…or the company.

"Shut it, Scarlet," Killian groused, throwing a glare at the man in the other cell. "A man can't bloody hear himself think above your constant yammering."

"I'll talk if I bloody wanna talk Jones," Will Scarlet shot back. "It's a free country, innit? I can do what I please. Say, whatcha in for anyway?"

"I got drunk and broke into a library," Killian muttered.

"What's that?" Will asked, stepping up to the bars that separated their cells. "I musta heard wrong, mate. Did you say you broke into a bloody library?"

"That's right."

"You're mental, you are," Will said with a shake of the head. "Breaking into a library! Why'd ya wanna do that? 'S just full of a bunch of books."

"That's my business," Killian snapped, "and if you know what's good for you, you'll shut your mouth."

"And if I don't?"

"Then I'll bloody well come over and make you!"

Emma decided it was definitely time to intervene. "Alright, alright guys. Nobody's going to make anyone do anything. Just calm down."

Killian's whole demeanor changed when he saw her. His eyes lit up, his mouth settled into its usual flirtatious smirk, and he sauntered in her general direction. "Well Swan, I see you've decided to grace us with your company. I knew you couldn't stay away from my devilishly handsome self for long."

Emma rolled her eyes. "It's 'Sheriff Swan' to you, and of course I'm here. It is, after all, where I work."

"Come now, love," he said, leaning a hip casually against the prison bars, "admit it. Admit you felt your heart leap at the thought of spending the day with me."

She grinned in spite of herself. "I'll admit I felt something, but I don't think it was my heart leaping. Maybe something more along the lines of nausea…"

Killian put a hand to his chest. "You wound me, Swan."

"Not nearly as much as I could if I wanted to, Jones."

"Oh, love, you have no idea how much I'd enjoy that."

"Oh bloody hell!" Will groused, collapsing onto his cot and dropping his head into his hands, "bad enough I have to put up with this bloke all night long. I have to watch you two flirt as well? Just make out already and clear the air!"

Emma felt her face flame. This day was going from bad to worse. The last thing she needed was an audience for the little conversation she was about to have. Fumbling with her keys, she unlocked Killian's door and gestured him out.

"Yeah, a make-out session is so not going to happen. I do, however, have a few questions for Mr. Jones that might be best asked in the interrogation room. As for you, Scarlet…shut up and keep your crazy ideas to yourself."

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Killian followed Emma from the room, his curiosity piqued. If he didn't miss his guess, and he rarely did with Emma, she had a lot more on her mind than questions about last night's drunken escapade.

The fact was, Sheriff Emma Swan was an open book to him, and one he knew he'd never tire of reading. She hadn't been in town a day before he realized he was utterly smitten with her. She'd built her walls high and rarely let anyone scale them, but he could see the strong, amazing woman that resided beneath the prickly but beautiful exterior.

He wanted to know her, really know her, to lose himself in the emerald depths of her eyes, to spend his days with her and hold her through the ensuing nights. He wanted it all.

But she wasn't ready for any of it. He'd attempted a sincere conversation with her once, but she'd swiftly and completely shut him down. Since then, he'd contented himself with harmless flirtation and ever present innuendo. She may roll her eyes at him, but his nonsense never failed to elicit a blush or a begrudging grin.

She wasn't immune to him by any stretch. There was something brewing between them, something strong and powerful. One day she'd lower her walls and allow him past. Until that day, he must bide his time. He loved a challenge. He was a patient man, and he was in this for the long haul.

Emma ushered him into the interrogation room and shut the door behind them. "Go ahead and have a seat."

Killian did as she asked, and watched as she began to pace. She was nervous; that was plain to see. Whatever it was that was on her mind, it clearly went beyond his picked lock and literary malfeasance. He'd best find a way to put her at ease before she gave herself an ulcer.

Getting to his feet, he sauntered over to her, not stopping until he was close enough to feel her breath on his face. "You know, Swan, you don't need to use my arrest as an excuse to get close to me; you need only ask."

She stuck her hands in her back pockets and swayed into him for the barest of moments before rolling her eyes and pushing him gently away.

"Yeah, because your criminal behavior had nothing to do with it," she said, a smile in her voice. Suddenly her eyes shifted and she shied away like a nervous filly. "Would you just go sit down like I told you to? I have something I need to ask you, and I didn't want to have an audience."

Killian's curiosity spiked even more. He took his seat and peered up at her as she paced in evident agitation. "Very well, Swan. Ask away."

She shot him a quick glance, and then looked away. "Now, don't get the wrong idea about this. It doesn't mean anything. I was just…put on the spot, and yours was the first name that came to me. It means nothing."

Killian grinned and leaned back in his far-from-comfortable chair. "I shall endeavor to keep that in mind."

"It's just…" she began, once again beginning to pace, "my sister-in-law's sister is getting married next weekend, and she wanted to use that as an opportunity to matchmake…and…I kind of told her I had a boyfriend. I kind of told her you were my boyfriend."

Killian's heart stilled and then raced. He grinned up at her—not his normal teasing leer, but a sincere smile.

"Don't look at me like that!" she snapped. "I told you not to read anything into it!"

Killian raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I wouldn't dream of it, love."

"You better not."

"So, am I to understand you wish me to be your date to this wedding? That's what you're asking me?"

"Fake date," she said vehemently. "I want you to pretend to be my boyfriend. Just for one weekend. Then we go back to you committing misdemeanors every other day and me arresting you."

"And when your sister-in-law learns of the sham?"

"No reason she ever needs to know," Emma said with a shrug. "Couples break up all the time. We'll just say things didn't work out; we decided to go our separate ways. That's life, you know?"

Killian saw decades of heartbreak and abandonment in the shrug of her shoulders, the pain in her eyes that she tried desperately to mask behind a nonchalant exterior. Killian ached for her, longed to tell her that life didn't have to be that way, that he'd never let her down, even if everyone else in the world did.

But he held his tongue. She wasn't ready for that yet, not nearly.

"Very well, Swan," he said instead. "It looks like you've got yourself a fake boyfriend for the weekend. How would you like to seal the deal? A kiss for your pretend boyfriend, aye?"

She rolled her eyes and grinned. "Sorry buddy. I only have pretend kisses for my pretend boyfriends."

"I shall pretend to savor them and relive them in fondest memory until we meet again."

Notes:

- I thought I'd try my hand at the ever-popular fake-dating AU trope. I threw in Will Scarlet as a bonus because…why not? Unfortunately, this got really long, so I was basically only able to give you the set-up before I reached a ridiculous word count.

-Up next: Emma and Killian arrive at the Nolan's Misthaven cottage and the fake dating ruse begins.