Emma ate a salad at the campus café quickly, so that she was sure she would be on time (which was 15 minutes early) for her afternoon session. Just as she planned, she arrived 15 minutes early, which afforded her plenty of time to meet the graduate students and the faculty that she idolized. Unfortunately, the physician faculty had a lot of write ups to complete and turned her over to the graduate students almost immediately after meeting her. However, she still managed to have a good conversation with the grad students – mainly discussing their internships and her residency plans.
It wasn't much of a surprise to Emma that Killian didn't "grace" them with his presence until 5 minutes after one. His white coat was wrinkled and dirty at the cuffs and collar, like it hadn't been washed in a couple weeks, but his slacks, shirt, tie and shoes were perfect – no wrinkles, no stains, mirror like shine. And just like that the female graduate student Emma was talking to was under his spell.
He locked eyes with his blonde classmate just in time to see her roll her eyes and sigh heavily. He shook the grad student's hand. She in turn showed them the room in which they would be testing the patient. It was done in dark wood like an office with cabinets all along one wall, a desk in the center, and plenty of chairs. Before either of them could select a chair to make themselves comfortable in, the student said, "You'll be back here," and motioned what looked like a viewing window.
She led them out of the testing room to the next door, which she opened revealing a closet sized dark room with a mini fan and two steps for seats. Their discomfort must have been palpable for a short moment. Neither student wanted to be the first to enter. No way! They can't expect me to spend over two hours in a closet with him!, Emma yelled internally. Forget seven minutes in heaven; this is more like seven hours of hell. She grudgingly entered ahead of him and delicately set her backpack down on the floor to remove her notebook and climb up to the top step. He took a deep breath, thoughts of walking into the lion's den racing through his mind, and followed her lead. Since he had nothing but water with him he simply plopped down on the seat beside her.
"Now the speaker is on the wall to your left. You can adjust the volume by turning the knob. You can turn on the fan if you want, but absolutely no lights. The door has to remain closed," the graduate student informed them.
The door closed behind the grad student, and just like that they were left alone. Emma hated the proximity of him. She wasn't fond of anyone being in her personal space (and two inches from sitting thigh to thigh in a dark closet definitely counted as in her personal space), especially not strange men. She wasn't sure she could actually use the term "strange man" when referring to Killian though.
Flashback – She was in the library poring over Netter's and Thieme anatomy atlases at a small table in a private study room. Her computer sat in front of the books open to the virtual cadaver dissection and at least twelve muscle tables were spread out on the table as well. She was obsessed with learning all the muscles origins and insertions and functions. So much so that she hadn't taken a break in over six hours. She had been oblivious to her surroundings, but Killian had apparently been very aware of her presence across the hall. He knocked softly, at first so softly she wasn't sure the noise was real, but she looked up anyway and there he was. He turned the handle without actually asking, but she forgave him when he sat the hot chocolate with cinnamon, just like she liked it next to the atlas. He glanced about at her study materials. "Having trouble, Emma?"
He asked with such genuine concern that she managed to let her guard down and be honest. "Yeah, I am. There are just so many, you know?"
He nodded. "Can I help? I'm actually kind of good at this stuff."
She was willing to bet he was. It was no secret that he had played college football and was the model of physical perfection thanks to working out daily. All she could do was reluctantly nod; she really did need to ace this exam in two days.
He helped her up and started to pack away her things. "What are you doing, Jones?"
"We're going somewhere a little more conducive to learning," he said with a devilish smirk.
Ten minutes later, she found herself in his apartment three doors down from her own. He started by teaching her the muscles of the rotator cuff, their actions and the tests for injuries by guiding her arms through the motions. It sent shivers up and down her spine to feel him standing behind her pressed so close and practically whispering in her ear, but for once they weren't shivers of fear.
As the evening progressed they moved to the muscles of the lower extremities. Gracilis muscle adducts the hip, the muscles of the pes anserine and the piriformis muscle externally rotating your thigh were only some of the muscles that Killian had great memorization devices for. But by far her favorite had been his memorization device for the sartorius muscle – the Captain Morgan muscle. He looked every inch the pirate when he posed for her to demonstrate the function. When she hadn't immediately recognized the reference, he had produced a bottle of Captain Morgan rum.
That's when they had started taking shots. From there it becomes a bit of a blur, until the kiss. The one fateful kiss, when they had both given into the moment and proximity. The moment she had forgotten who she was and who he was. She had lost herself in the kiss, but when it broke everything came rushing back to her, namely Neal. She had fled his presence and never looked back – until now. – End Flashback
"Emma?" Killian queried.
He must have been talking to her while she was lost in her own memory. "What?" she asked mildly annoyed with herself for letting her mind drift to that incident years ago.
"I was just wondering how the interview season was going for you. You chose psychiatry, right?" I'm trying really hard to keep things neutral here; you could at least help me out.
"Yeah, I did." She proceeded to tell him about all the amazing places she had interviews arranged all over the country. This is safe conversation, she assured herself.
He nodded and followed along like he was thoroughly interested, which she didn't believe for a second. But it was nice to get to talk about herself for a change. Then she noticed he seemed to be ticking things off on his fingers as she spoke. Irritated at his obvious lack of interest she stopped. "What are you counting?"
"Relax, Swan. I'm just keeping a running tally of all the places we're both interviewing. We could almost be travel buddies."
"You're applying for psychiatry too?" she asked incredulously.
He chuckled. "Nope, I'm orthopedic surgery."
Fitting, she thought. He has the jock personality and physique, and only a surgeon can be that full of themselves.
