A/N: Yay! Many thanks to phoward, PrettyTimeBomb27, Ayyyylmao, OnceUponABookworm, Wapomeo Huntress, florenzu, imke14, Rebekah Kroeplin, Killian's Lady, Kari, Lunalove25, blurred fragments, YouSaid and Down-The-Rabbit-Hole1803, as well as everyone who's faved and followed so far :)


"Today will be your last day to work on the project in class," Belle announced, smiling around at them all. "After that, you'll have to do it on your own time. Remember, this is due in week 8. I know that seems very far away, but with all your other assignments it'll creep up on you quickly, so get going!"

Emma fought not to fidget as she glanced at the clock. Killian was over five minutes late to the lesson, and had missed the roll being called.

She twisted in her seat. Victor and Ruby were working behind her, heads bent close together over a book.

"Hey," she called out to get their attention. Their heads snapped up almost guiltily, and she gave them a little wave. "Victor – is Killian at school today?"

"Yeah," he replied. "I saw him this morning. He not in class?" He glanced around the room, declared Killian's absence "Weird!" and promptly returned to his own work.

Emma frowned. Given what she'd seen in the library the other day, she hadn't thought Killian would bludge English class – had, in fact, almost been looking forward to working on the project with him. So where was he?

Shaking her head, she decided not to waste any more time and began to continue on her own. Ten minutes later, however, she heard the classroom door opening. Maybe her head snapped up a little too quickly, so sue her, it was hard doing the entire project by herself.

"Apologies for my tardiness," Killian said to Belle, because apparently 'sorry I'm late' wasn't fancy enough for him. He showed her a note, presumably as an explanation, and she nodded and waved for him to go sit down.

"Hi," Emma said as he took his customary seat beside her.

"Hey. Sorry. I was with a teacher," he began, except as he half-dropped his planner onto the table the note flew out and Emma caught it automatically. As she handed it back to him, she caught a glimpse of the teacher's signature at the bottom – Archie Hopper, the school counsellor. She astutely pretended not to have seen anything, and when Killian shoved the note hurriedly in his pocket, she knew she'd made the right call.

"No problem. You finish what you were working on before?" she asked, and Killian nodded, seeming glad to get stuck right into things.

"Yeah, and I actually did some brainstorming last night about ways we can divide up 'choice' into smaller chunks," he said. He flicked open his book to a page that was absolutely covered in messy scrawls of writing.

"...wow. Okay," Emma said.

He grinned sheepishly. "I woulda done it on the computer, but a broken wrist does not a fast typist make. Anyway. Within this mess of mental diarrhoea..." He scanned through his own incomprehensible notes before catching sight of something and giving a firm nod. "That's right. Friends."

"Friends?"

"Yeah. I mean, the choices in the play are influenced by both the personal and political side of things, right? And then within the personal side, there's family, friends, and I guess a romantic relationship as well with Ophelia." As he spoke, Emma noticed absently that he was very good at holding direct eye contact. She forced herself to focus. "So maybe it would be interesting to look at how that impacted on choices."

"Like what?" she asked.

"Well, take Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, for example. They used to be Hamlet's friends, but they made the choice – presumably motivated by money – to betray him and spy on him. And that betrayal of trust let Hamlet to make the choice to kill them later on, and not feel bad about it or anything."

"Ohh. I see what you're getting at. Whereas Horatio made the choice to stick by his friend, and he's the only one left standing right at the end."

"Aye. Which then ties into the corresponding theme of loyalty, in line with the values promoted by Shakespeare," Killian finished. "Sound alright?"

"Sounds great! Especially since it lets us get into the morality of the choices made, not just their consequences. Shall we gather some quotes?" she asked, already flicking open her copy of the play.

Killian nodded, doing the same thing. A few moments passed in silence.

"A lot of people forget that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern were his friends, I think," Killian said suddenly. "I mean, people focus on the betrayal part a lot more than the fact that before that they were all bros at university."

She snorted, suddenly struck by the mental image of the Elizabethan prince of Denmark hanging out at college with a bunch of dudebros. "Yeah, I guess people tend to focus more on the family side of things."

"Friends are just as important."

"Yup. Like that quote about 'friends being the family you pick for yourself', or whatever." She mentioned it as an absent thought, little more than a way of continuing the conversation, but Killian paused mid highlighter-stroke, frowning thoughtfully.

"I hadn't heard that before," he said.

"Really?" She didn't miss the way his eyes darted across the room to where Regina was sitting, working intently with Sidney.

"Yeah," he said quietly.

Emma frowned. When he first arrived in year 9, she had been too broken up over Neal to pay much attention to it. By the time she did, he had already secured his position as one of Regina's top cronies, thus becoming guilty by association – and quickly proved himself just as able to be catty and petty and, well, a complete asshole.

Now she wondered just why he had fallen in with such a crowd. So far, he'd been acting pretty normally around her, no hint of villainy in sight.

"I heard you've been friends with the same people since year 7," he commented suddenly.

She looked up. "Yeah? Most people at this school have."

"Really? I moved around a lot so... I don't know, I guess I figured people would change groups as they got older."

"You've stayed friends with Regina since you got here," Emma said, and couldn't help the slight coldness that crept into her tone at the mere mention of the other girl.

Killian seemed amused. "You really don't like her, do you?"

"I'm pretty sure the feeling is mutual." She glanced over at Regina in time to see the other glance up and give her a filthy look. "...very mutual."

Killian had noticed their interaction, and laughed outright. "Christ. Okay."

"I'd have thought you already knew that she despises me. And Mary Margaret. Really, really despises Mary Margaret." Work forgotten, she was intrigued by this new subject. She didn't often think much about the fact that Regina's group were... well, all friends, who talked together, and waited for each other outside class, and laughed at each other's jokes at lunch time. Getting an insight into the mind of the enemy was fascinating, to say the least.

"Well, yes," Killian said. "But it's not like she goes on about it twenty-four seven."

"Yeah, only twenty-three seven."

That got another laugh out of him. "Seriously though," he added. "She's not... what you think."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know. The cardboard cut-out Mean Girl, the principal's daughter who constantly looks for ways to mess with everyone. The school bitch." He ran a hand through his hair. "She can be... abrasive, I'll grant, but there's a lot more to her than that."

Emma felt bad for approximately two seconds. Then she remembered exactly how Regina had behaved towards her for the last five years, and felt nothing less than annoyed instead.

"Abrasive, right," she said. "That's why she got my entire group banned from the year 10 formal. And had us blamed for that incident at camp last year. And broke up Ruby with her boyfriend. And attempted, countless times, to break up David and Mary Margaret. And let's not forget the icing on the cake, she got Phillip suspended and made him lose his scholarship!"

Killian was frowning now, but he didn't say anything, which only added fuel to the fire.

"What's your excuse then?" she asked. "More to you than meets the eye? Are you abrasive as well? Is that why you sucked up to Aurora and then-"

"Alright," he cut in. He looked irritated now, which Emma thought was a fine business! "Point taken."

"Point taken? What, so you agree with me?"

"I've never claimed to be a saint," he said. "Regina and I have... common interests."

Yes, Emma thought grimly. Like destroying other people's lives.

"But, in any case," Killian continued. "We are straying from our agreement."

"Agreement?" She was confused for a moment, before she remembered their pact to not argue and just get to work. "Right."

It was not in her nature to sweep things under the rug, to just forget about them and let them go. But for now, at least, she returned to working in silence.

As the annoyance faded, it was replaced by an odd, nagging feeling that took her a while to place.

Disappointment.

For a moment there she'd almost been able to forget that Killian was not her friend. Quite the opposite, actually. And she mentally kicked herself for letting her guard down, for hoping so easily that she might have had the wrong impression of him.

After all, if her personal experience was anything to go by, trust was not something to be quickly earned.


"It's true," Ruby announced, as Mr Jefferson projected a sheet of notes onto the board for them to copy, pulled his hat down over his eyes and promptly appeared to go to sleep at his desk. "It's official."

"What is?" Emma asked. She was seated between Ruby and Mary Margaret. History was always an enjoyable subject, due to a combination of a slack teacher and having two of her friends in the class.

"Mr Gold and Miss French. Apparently he was seen walking her to her car after school yesterday."

"That doesn't necessarily mean anything," Mary Margaret pointed out. Ruby shook her head insistently.

"This is Mr Gold we're talking about here. Any non-hostile interaction is practically a declaration of love."

Emma shook her head, amused by her friend's enthusiasm for their teachers' romantic lives.

"Speaking of," Ruby added, eyes glittering a little as she turned to Emma, "Why is Killian Jones staring at you from the other side of the room?"

Emma twisted in her seat. Sure enough, Killian had been staring at her, and when he realised he was caught out, he played it cool, merely raising his eyebrows before giving her a slow smile. She rolled her eyes at him before turning back around.

"He's an idiot," she declared. "An annoying idiot."

"How is he?" Mary Margaret asked suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, how is he with you? With the English project?" Mary Margaret was watching Emma almost intently. She didn't seem to be worried, or have that lingering sense of motherliness that she usually held towards her friend – if anything, she looked almost curious.

"Uhhh." Emma wasn't quite sure how to respond. "I guess he's... fine? I mean, he's not cruel the way Regina is – but I suppose he never has been. He doesn't hit on me all the time, I guess he realises it'd just waste time with the project."

"So he's been friendly then?" Ruby asked, sounding intrigued, and Emma shook her head, frustrated.

"I don't know. It's been confusing actually. He's been hot and cold."

"Definitely hot," Ruby muttered, and Emma elbowed her.

"Dude. I mean, sometimes he acts perfectly friendly and I almost think he's alright, then the next second he'll do something to remind me that for the last three years he's been a total ass who contributes to most of Regina's schemes. I don't really know what to think."

Mary Margaret and Ruby glanced at each other – and it was only then that Emma realised how uncharacteristic that last statement had been. She always knew what to think of people. Read them quickly and accurately, and then, if they seemed alright, held them at arm's length until her opinion of them had solidified. It was rare for her to not understand someone.

"The other day on the bus he kept flirting with me," Mary Margaret began, when Ruby cut in.

"Flirting's harmless!"

"I know," Mary Margaret said with a patient smile, "But he was sitting behind us and kept deliberately trying to rile up David. Luckily he got off at the next stop or a fight really would have broken out."

Emma did not catch the bus, but it seemed to be the setting for the worst of their school's dramas, so she could only roll her eyes and nod.

"Anyway," Mary Margaret said. "I asked you about him because after that bus incident I was thinking and I realised that he's annoying to us a lot of the time, but he's never actively tried to mess with you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. I mean, he sabotaged David at the athletics carnival that one time, and he helped Regina plant that evidence blaming us for the fire alarm incident at school camp, and he's assisted in countless schemes to get our group in general in trouble. I'm pretty sure he built the slingshot that one time Regina flicked gum into my hair at assembly. And he distracted Ruby in textiles and nearly made her ruin her major work – but he's never messed with you? Or at least, I don't remember him doing so."

Emma considered this. When she thought back, it was true. Regina had messed with her. So had Sidney, now and then. Smee too, on occasion. But except for the incidents where her whole group was the target – Killian had never been involved in the ploys against her specifically.

"Probably hasn't had the chance yet," she said, then added, jokingly, "Or else he's scared of me! Nah, it's just a coincidence."

Mary Margaret stared at her for a long moment. Emma shifted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable and unsure why.

"Yes," Mary Margaret said finally. "Yes, that's probably it."

They turned back to their work, but Emma was distracted. There was a disconcerted feeling brewing in the pit of her stomach, for one simple reason.

Mary Margaret's last statement had sent her lie detector blaring.


"See you on Monday!" David called, waving as he ran in order to avoid missing the bus. Emma waved back, then made the obligatory mock gagging noises as Mary Margaret blew a shower of kisses after him. The moment was slightly ruined when Victor, also jogging for the bus, proceeded to mime catching one and stuffing it down his pants.

"God," Emma said, face palming. "That boy is a total pig."

"You're telling me," Mary Margaret replied with a grimace.

As was their usual friday routine, they made their way to the music room where Mary Margaret had choir practice. Emma wasn't in the choir, but she liked to sit outside and wait for her friend to finish. Queenhart had some pretty good singers, and the music was soothing – not to mention she got a lot more work done staying at school rather than sitting at home procrastinating just because it was the end of the week.

She had settled down with her maths homework, the strains of the choir's usual warm up (the school song) just beginning to filter through the music room window, when someone called out her name and she looked up to see Killian meandering towards her.

"Hey," he said, looking a bit confused to see her still at school.

"Hi," she replied, unsure what he wanted. "You missed the bus."

"What?" He glanced at his watch, pulled a face, then shrugged. "It's fine. I think another comes in ten minutes." He came closer and stood in front of her. Emma waited for him to say something.

"If you're just gonna stand there," she said finally, "could you take a step to the left? The sun's right in my eye."

"What? Ah." He promptly moved. "Sorry. I was just thinking."

"Anything of relevance to me?" she asked, a little impatient to get back to work.

He nodded. "The English assignment. We're not working on it in class any more, remember?"

"Oh. Yeah."

"Did you want to meet up this weekend and get some of it done?"

She nodded. She had almost forgotten that they had to continue on their own time now. "Yeah, we probably should try get it done early. Where do you want to meet?"

"The library? The one closest to the school," he added, presumably being unsure where she lived, as there were multiple libraries in their town.

She nodded. "Sounds fine. What time?"

"I'm working in the morning. I can try be there at 12."

"Okay," Emma said. "Maybe pick a couple of other themes – like the friendship one we were doing before. Then we can really get started on putting something together."

"Sounds good." He smiled at her, and Emma proceeded to have an internal crisis over whether smiling back would be encouraging the idea that he was totally forgiven for... well, everything (and while in fairness he hadn't been involved in too many evil plots recently, hell yeah she was gonna hold a grudge about eight term's worth of nefarious schemes).

Eventually, however, she concluded that when it came to English he was at least committed, and smiled back.

He broke into a full on grin. "Excellent. I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yeah, bye." She watched him leave, backpack hanging lopsidedly from one shoulder.

Ugh. Like I said. Hot and cold, she thought, and got back to work.


The last thing Emma wanted to do after the stressful week she'd had was spend Friday night out and about. Unfortunately, her parents were not the greatest at forewarning her about their evening plans, and she found herself unexpectedly roped into the birthday dinner of some distant relative who happened to be in town.

Five hours of sitting in a restaurant surrounded by people that she barely knew and wasn't even related to was gruelling, to say the least, and when she finally got home it was a relief to flop down onto her bed with her laptop.

She did her usual routine check of updates on the world before switching to Facebook.

And froze, for the second time that week.

The picture had been uploaded only an hour ago, by the same distantly-acquainted classmate who had been the one to cluelessly reveal Neal's return to her.

'Had a fun night out tonight!' this one was captioned, and appeared to have been taken at the laser tag place downtown. Neal was in the forefront of the picture, grinning his usual grin. One arm was wrapped around the mysterious Tamara, both of them surrounded by a spattering of other teens – a few who she recognised from school, others who must have been from Storybrooke High.

But what really caught her attention was the fact that hovering at the back of the group was someone who looked a heck of a lot like Killian.

"What the hell," she breathed as she clicked the picture and zoomed in. He wasn't tagged, but a quick search revealed that he didn't have a Facebook account anyway.

God. It looked exactly like him. It had to be him!

She just had no idea why.

He didn't even know Neal! He hadn't known of his existence until literally two days ago. Not to mention that the extent of his knowledge of the other boy was that he was Emma's ex and the son of the man he hated most.

What the devil was going on?!

She shut her laptop slowly.

Hot and cold was a God damn understatement now. Killian Jones was an almighty mix of different temperatures, with a few stirring sticks thrown in to really shake things up.

What's he playing at?


A/N: Ehehehe. Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed, and as always reviews, comments and con-crit are all greatly appreciated! :)