Thank you so much to IAmShenanigans, SOPPNATION, Maggie and two guests for reviewing. It seems a few of you want me to continue, so I shall. I invite you all to let me know if my writing is up to scratch, as this is my first fanfic in a long time. I'm also looking for a beta, if anyones interested.

"You've struggled with the failure of this film. How are you going to recover from this, Killian?"

Killian held his breath and stared at the journalist. She was pretty, blonde, well dressed. Her hair was a weird shade of blonde, though. Not even close to how appealing the blonde from the bathroom had-

Damnit Killian. Focus.

"You know, my brother is a wise man. We had a saying, in our house, growing up. It's not about what happens when you get knocked down, it's about what you do when you get back up. I'll get back up." Killian plastered that practised smile on his face and the interviewer shifted in her seat, elongating her neck and smiling flirtily at Killian.

"That's inspirational, Killian. Truly. We're lucky to have you here," She fluttered her eyelashes a little and Killian narrowed his eyes and sighed.

"It's also bullshit." He slumped back a little, and watched as the journalist turned around, looking confused at the others in the room, and Regina and Robin widened their eyes from their positions behind the cameras, Regina sending a 'shut-the-fuck-up' hand motion his way.

He ignored her.

"My brother never had that saying. It's just one of those things that you're told to say by your publicist-" He sent a glare Regina's way, "But it's not true. When you people, the press, keep writing about me, you don't talk about my work. You talk about the hype of me, of this situation I find myself in. I'm just some guy who went from being a boy cleaning the floors in the cinema to somewhat successful actor due to a bucket of luck." Killian sighed heavily and looked the journalist in the eye.

"This isn't even my tie," Killian pointed to the fabric that the blonde he had found himself missing already had played with earlier. "My publicist," He pointed to Regina, "Thought this tie made me look approachable. My stylist agreed, and here we are. You see these shoes? I hate these shoes. My friend and assistant Robin said they made me look like a banker." Killian smiled and looked over at Robin. "I think they make me look like a word rhyming with banker,"

Robin snorted from his stance next to Regina, who punched him in the arm. The journalist had her hand covering her mouth, giggling into her palm.

"You know what? Here-" Killian removed his shoes and gave them to the interviewer. "Take them. I hate the bloody things. You know what else? I'm going to the pub, for a burger... and some rum. I bloody love rum." Killian stood and looked into the camera.

"I will try my best to buck up my work ethic. I can be a bit of an idiot sometimes... but I'm tired of glossing over my mistakes. I thought for a while, that I wasn't allowed to live my life the way I want to. I just needed reminding that I could."

"Is everything in motion?"

"Yes sir,"

"Did you watch Miss Swan for a while?"

David rubbed his face.

"I did. She left her apartment this morning after leaving her son with her friend." David avoided the eyes of his boss. "She's on her track." David looked around the park they were sat in and the older man next to him nodded.

"Good."

David was tired. He had been put on the case of Swan and Jones as an honor, as something to prove to the higher-ups that it was time for him to be promoted. He never expected that it would take so much work.

He also never expected to find a fancy in the short haired, beautiful friend of the Swan girl. The older man next to him spoke as if he had read David's thoughts.

"Your job is the most important thing, David. I don't want to hear anything about you prioritising other things."

"Yes sir." David looked down at his notebook which had started to beep. He rolled his eyes.

"Swan changed her mind. She's going to her dance practice by ferry, not bus, now." The older man sighed.

"Then I'm sure Jones will soon be deciding the ferry is a great idea. Just stick to the plan and he won't make it in time to catch the same one. Spill coffee on his shirt by 7:05am and we'll still be on track. Make sure it's done. You know we can't track them on water," David nodded.

"I'll get him as soon as he enters the park." The older man nodded and stood.

"Good luck, Nolan."

"Thank you, Gold."

"-an interview a few days ago, in which he told the audience that he was 'going for a burger, and admitting his mistakes.' We here at E! News thought his speech was wonderful and honest, and we think that Killian Jones' future in Hollywood may have been saved by his blinding resistance against his publicity agents." Killian smirked as he turned the television back down, grabbing his coffee and leaning back against the sofa.

"Thank you mysterious wedding crasher," He mumbled to himself before looking over at his new work phone that was vibrating on the table.

"How the bloody hell do I answer this thing?" He pressed buttons on the side before swiping his finger over the screen. "Hello?" Killian sipped his coffee and smiled as Robin's voice came from the device.

"Regina told me to call and tell you that MTV is going to call you about a feature piece on your career so far. I gave them this number." Killian groaned.

"Give them my other number, I hate this damn thing, I can't work it-" He grunted as Robin interrupted him.

"It's your business phone, deal with it. It has to be this number." Killian rolled his eyes.

"Leave me alone you prick," He smiled and Robin laughed into the phone.

"Call me when you're done. I have boring business stuff to go over with you, and then we have some catching up to do. I believe the story of how you ended up making out with a lovely blonde in the men's of the conference center is a story you haven't told me yet," Robin grinned and Killian could hear his taunting tone, and decided to ignore it completely.

"Later, you arse." Killian hung up and grabbed his bag, making his way out of the door.

Holding his Starbucks cup, Killian crossed the street, ready to hail a cab to make it to his meeting with the production team on his next movie. Watching as the hundreds of people bustled around central park, he squinted and shook his head.

Ferry. Much more fun. Right brother?

Killian missed his brother. Liam was back in England with his wife and two daughters, living a life that at one point, Killian would have killed for.

That was, until Milah walked out of his life.

He had given everything to her, his heart, his trust, his future, and she had thrown it back in his face. Luckily for him, acting had fallen into his lap after a fluked audition, and he drowned himself in drink and willing fans. He told himself it was the life he craved.

He knew he was lying to himself.

It wasn't until a certain blonde firecracker had barrelled into his world head first, that he ever thought twice about a woman, let alone thought all day about one. It seemed she had claimed a vice grip on his interest and wouldn't be letting go any time soon. He didn't even know her name.

He hoped he would see her again.

David dreamt of short coal hair and gorgeous eyes. He dreamt of leaving a life that dictated loneliness and being selfish, taking the woman away and experiencing love the way he never had. The way he had never been allowed to. He dreamt of families and he dreamt of the woman he was sure was so far out of his league that she could barely see him.

He dreamt- shit.

He was dreaming, which meant he was asleep. Which meant...

"Shit! Shit..." David woke with a start and immediately checked his watch.

7:10am.

Shit. He was so fucked.

He stood and swung his head around, trying to catch a glimpse of Jones.

Nothing.

David looked at his notebook and saw that Jones was heading to the harbor. So he ran. He ran through the crowds and tried to catch up with Jones, watching as Swan's dot and Jones' dot got closer and closer together.

"Shit..." He groaned and stopped running as the dots on his notebook disappeared, which only meant that both of his targets were on water.

"Well." He heaved, putting his hands on his knees and trying to regain his breath. "I'm screwed."

"What do you mean you met someone?" Emma creased her eyebrows together and balanced her phone at her ear as she dug through her bag for her breakfast. "Where did you meat this guy, M?"

"In a coffee shop! Can you believe that? It's so cliché I barely believe it myself! It's true, though, and oh... Emma, he's amazing, he so handsome and kind and funny... I wish I could have stayed to talk to him but I told him I had to babysit and he asked about you and I told him how close we were and how we met and he was just so charming!" Mary Margaret rambled into her phone and Emma laughed.

"He sounds great, M. Tell me you got his number." She asked and Mary Margaret huffed slightly.

"No... he was a little cryptic about it but he said he goes to that place often and he knows he'll see me again. Isn't that mysterious? It's exciting, right?" She giggled and Emma rolled her eyes.

"Just be careful. New York isn't the best place to become obsessed with a stranger."

"I know. I'll see you later though, and I can tell you more about him. Henry says he loves you, by the way."

"Tell him I love him too. Thanks again, M."

"You're welcome. See you later Emma."

Emma dropped her phone into her bag, before staring out at the harbor. The ferry began to move and Emma sighed, resting her head on the window and closing her eyes.

She was overjoyed for Mary Margaret, who was so obsessed with the idea of fairytale romances and true love that Emma wanted her in a relationship just so it would shut her up. On the other hand, she didn't know anyone who deserved that kind of happiness more than Mary Margaret. Emma remembered vividly the 'Victor Whale debacle' as she had lovingly named it. After a miserable date and a one night stand, she was determined that Mary would find a real relationship soon.

It seemed as if this mystery coffee shop man could be such a thing.

It made Emma think of her chance meeting with a man.

Killian was absolutely not Emma's type. Looks wise, he was. Looks wise, he was anyone's type. He was ridiculously attractive.

No. His lifestyle was absolutely not her type. Emma liked to keep private. She liked to keep her cards close to her chest, and only let the people who earned her trust and respect see her hand.

So far, that decision meant that Mary Margaret, and her son (who had earned nothing, he had gained that privilege from the moment she saw his cute face and chubby arms the day he was born) were the only people who knew her.

Sometimes she thought maybe she was being overly cautious. Then she remembered the name Neal and suddenly the phrase overly cautious didn't exist in her vocabulary.

So, the lifestyle of press and public knowing your every move certainly didn't appeal to Emma. It seemed like a sacrifice she wouldn't wish to make, simply for a career. Though, that speech he made in his interview certainly swayed her to wanting to see him again. It was obvious her words to him had garnered that response, and she couldn't help but feel a little flustered at the effect she clearly had on him. Banging her head against the window, she sighed.

"No way," She looked up at the sound of someone near her, and widened her eyes as the subject of her thoughts materialised in front of her.

"Holy crap," She exclaimed, and smiled at the dazzling grin Killian Jones was suddenly sending her way. He fell into the seat next to hers and smirked.

"Have we met?" He grinned again and Emma shrugged.

"You look vaguely familiar." She laughed. Killian looked down at her clothing.

"What's with the red leather?" He taunted, and Emma slapped him playfully in the chest.

"What's with you and boring shades of black?" She faked offense. "I'll have you know that leather is a wonderful material." She smiled and Killian leant in to whisper in her ear.

"I know, you should see my black leather trench coat and pants," He raised an eyebrow and Emma slapped him again.

"Hey, I saw your interview." She looked him in the eye and Killian nodded.

"Yeah... the interview. Something must have gotten into me." He looked purposefully at her, the two looking into each other's eyes before they were interrupted by Killian's phone.

'Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me...'

Emma snorted ungracefully at the ringtone and raised her eyebrows.

"Wow. That's something," She teased and Killian narrowed his eyes.

"It's a new work phone. I had to do something to liven it up a little... Hello?... Hello?" He shook the phone a little. "Well that's that. Stupid thing isn't even working. I hate the damn thing," He put the phone down and Emma poked it slightly.

"Does the volume on that thing go any higher or do you pretty much have that maxed out?" She smirked and Killian laughed.

"Hey now, no making fun, love."

"I'm just making observations. So are you a pirate, Mr. Jones?" She nudged him in the side.

"I can be anything you want me to be." Killian groaned at his own reply and Emma scoffed.

"That might be the worst line I've ever heard." She beamed at him and Killian looked up as the speaker announced their apparent arrival at the dock.

"How about this one then... I would be honored if you would give me your number," He took paper from his wallet and handed it to her, along with a pen. Sipping his coffee, he waited for her to decide on her reply.

"Better. You still need work, though." She took the pen and was about to write on the slip of paper when Killian's phone rang again. Emma grabbed the phone from his hand and swiped across the screen.

"I'm sorry, he's not here right now!" She pressed the screen again and Killian glared playfully at her.

"Who was that?" He asked and Emma shrugged, biting her lip.

"No idea."

"Give me the phone," Killian grabbed for the device and Emma's face lit up with laughter. "So we're five years old now are we?" He asked, and Emma giggled. The phone lit up again, the pirate theme tune playing in the ferry once more, and Emma responded by ripping the lid from Killian's coffee and dropping his phone into the liquid. She raised her hands to her face and sat in shock at her own actions and Killian stared at the phone which was still, somehow, ringing, playing 'a pirate's life for me' sounding like it was playing from the depths of the ocean. Emma snorted behind her hands.

"Sturdy little fucker isn't it?" She laughed. "I'm sorry, I don't know what happened, it just happened..." She raised her shoulders in question and Killian burst into laughter and shook his head.

"You're not sorry, not really," He grinned.

"I guess not." Emma giggled again before eyeing Killian and biting her lip. "I'm Emma, by the way." She said, and Killian's eyes lit up and he nodded.

"I'll remember that."

The other people on the ferry began to leave, and Emma looked up at Killian before writing her number on the paper he had given to her, and shoved it into his shirt pocket.

"See you around, Killian." She smirked and picked up her bag, Killian walking with her as they left the ferry.

"I'll call you," He shouted after her as she walked ahead, and she nodded and waved slightly.

"Good," She replied, and Killian smiled wide.

"You know, the morning after my interview I woke up thinking about you," He said, and Emma stopped and turned again.

She smiled wide, flipped him off, laughed, and walked away.

Killian grinned happily to himself and tapped his pocket where her number lay.

He was so screwed, and he couldn't be happier about it. Maybe it was time to move on.