A/N: Thank you all for reading, liking, and reviewing! I am enjoying writing this story and am so thrilled that you all are enjoying it as well.

This chapter is one of my favorites but it was extremely difficult to edit, so please excuse any mistakes. That being stated, though I have many of the chapters written and the rest outlined, I don't know when the next update will be. My writing schedule is to first finish a later chapter from the outline, before going back and editing the next chapter in the queue to be posted. I hope you stick with me on this journey.

Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!


(September)

It gradually becomes their thing. Slowly, tentatively, it becomes a routine with them. Killian waits for Emma in the alcove, offers her a coffee, and takes his leave.

The first day Killian had arrived with coffee, it had been dumb luck she arrived to the alcove at the same time as the previous Friday. The second day, it had been with a hopeful heart and optimistic mind that she would arrive at the same time two days in a row – she did.

It was that second day when she asked him flat out if he was stalking her. "Of course not, Swan. Just incredibly lucky I suppose." Not one to turn down free caffeine, she graciously accepted the coffee with milk.

The third day she rolls her eyes, feigning annoyance at his presence, but the grin that's elicited after she takes that first sip tells him she's not actually annoyed.

Still, the fourth day he's anxious she may not show up, or that his good luck streak has run out. She arrives with a look of apprehension that quickly transforms into a shy smile upon seeing him waiting in the alcove. They blushingly clink their coffee cups together in a toast as they exchange 'good mornings' before he takes his leave.

The fifth day he pushes his luck. It is a Friday, a week since meeting her, and on impulse he orders two bear claws and a jelly donut to go with his usual order of three coffees – (one for him, Emma, and Robin). It being a Friday, this could well be the day Swan doesn't show at the usual time.

Killian grits his teeth and attempts to shrug off his nerves while pacing around the alcove. In an effort to assuage his anxiety, he reasons should he miss Emma, he can offer the extra bear claw to Robin – (whom undoubtedly already inhaled the jelly donut from his security position outside the private study area). He takes a moment to visualizes Robin eagerly eating the bear claw in class, eyes closed, pink cheeks puffed out in happy contentment like an over zealous cartoon character.

The humorous thought helps him quiet the butterflies that have taken residence in his belly, but it's not long until Emma joins him and the butterflies rapidly resurface.

Killian stops pacing and clears his throat in an effort to hide his anxious energy. He presents the bag to Emma, eyes upturned in a hopeful expression, but he can feel his body quickly heat up in anticipation of her response.

"What is it?" She asks with a pensive set to her brow.

"Bear claw." He takes a step forward so she can grab the bag from his hands. She does so tentatively, as if the bag may hold a grenade instead of a donut.

Upon opening the bag her gaze snaps upward, startled blue eyes pinning him in place. "With cinnamon?"

"Aye." He anxiously scratches behind his ear, her surprised look making him second-guess the whole thing. "I apologize if you have an allergy, love. I should have asked, or just not been so stupid." He shakes his head and clears his throat. "Right, stupid. I'll be seeing you."

Killian turns to grab his coffee from where it's perched on the table and attempts to leave, but Emma stops him with a gentle grip of his wrist. She's smiling as he turns his gaze back to her. "Cinnamon is my favorite. Thank you."

A beat passes before Killian regains conscious thought - Emma's grip on his wrist, her serene smile, and the tint of her eyes captivating him in place. Grateful he hasn't mucked things up with her, he swallows and allows a relieved chuckle to slip from his throat. "You are most welcome, Swan."

-/-

Emma becomes accustom to Killian's visits after that first week. She's no longer taken by surprise when she enters the alcove and sees his beatific face. She accepts the coffee he offers without complaint or worry about ulterior motives. On Fridays, she delights in the cinnamon bear claw he delivers along with the coffee. He doesn't linger long, and after an exchange of pleasantries, he's on his way.

Still, Emma does offer to pay him for his generosity. She's never been one for handouts, and although he insists it's no trouble, she can't shake the guilt and her independent voice. She all but throws a tantrum a few weeks into their routine when she once again offers to pay him back, and he once again graciously declines payment.

"Look, this is nice and all, but I don't do handouts. I've been taking care of myself my entire life and I can damn well afford my own coffee. Let me pay you back. If this continues," she gestures between the two of them with a wagging finger and shrugs her shoulders, "I mean, I owe you like what, twenty-two dollars now?"

Emma's outburst catches Killian off guard, but he stops himself from spewing the usual retort of 'no repayment necessary.' Her proclamation, steely gaze, and set of her jaw show him a glimpse of her not yet seen. He is under no disillusionment that Swan is indeed fierce and strong, yet now, as he takes her in, he sees the vulnerability underlining her entire demeanor. He senses she's trying to protect herself, looking for an out, so as to put an end to their acquaintanceship before it can become something more.

Killian doesn't want to scare her, but he does want to make clear his intentions – (even if he can't be one hundred percent honest with her). Being friends with Killian Jones is one thing, being friends with Crown Prince Killian Bartholomew Frederick Christian Jones I is an entirely different matter.

So squaring his shoulders and offering a gentle smile, he hopes his words don't scare Emma into running. "Alright Swan, have it your way. You can pay me back in whatever form you deem fit, but not in currency." His smile morphs into a flirtatious grin as her eyes glaringly sharpen at his teasing. "However, as you inquired into how long our engagements shall continue, let me be clear. I like you Swan. I think we could be good friends. What say you?"

Emma's body visibly tenses and he instantly drops his flirtatious grin. Despite the confidence with which he had spoken, Killian is nervous for her reaction. He scratches behind his ear and rocks back on his heels, eyes sheepishly cast downward. He hopes Emma feels a connection with him as he does with her. He truly hopes they can be friends, but a latent more selfish part of him – (that he tries not to pay too much attention to because of the repercussions involved) - hopes they can be more than friends. That is, if he were granted the opportunity to know her better.

Emma exhales a breath she had unconsciously been holding at Killian's declaration. Two weeks of exchanging coffee and early morning pleasantries made them acquaintances, and although she wanted to be friendly after the first day he arrived with coffee, she hasn't allowed herself to think or hope about building a friendship with him. Apart from Ruby, Elsa, Mary-Margaret and David, she didn't have friends. Not because of a lack of opportunity, but because she preferred it that way. Keep to yourself and no one can hurt you. Was she ready to take a leap and let Killian into her life?

"You want to be friends?"

Killian gazes upward and is greeted with her inquisitive stare. "Aye, if you will allow it of course, but if it is too much Swan... " Killian drops his head once more, gaze now affixed on the thirty-plus year old carpet.

Emma expels another breath – time for another leap of faith – and resolutely shakes her head. "Friends. We can be friends."

Killian's head snaps back up and an infectious smile coalesces his face, blue eyes locked on emerald stones. "Truly?"

Emma laughs at his eagerness. Perhaps this friendship will be good for her, especially if he appears equally nervous about the venture. She shifts her feet and exhales. "Yes, friends. And we can start by you staying and joining me in studying instead of leaving."

"Yeah?" Killian can't hide his happiness - he's downright giddy. If Robin is ease dropping on the conversation, there will surely be unrelenting teasing about it later.

"Yeah. Now about that repayment," Emma arches her brow in a teasing manner, "if I can't pay you in currency - seriously I don't understand why you speak so formally - than I want to at least begin trading days." She shrugs her shoulders and throws him a grin. "After all, that is what friends do, right? Take turns."

Killian chuckles and nods his head. "Indeed Swan, friends take turns."

"Good. So since you brought the coffee today, let me bring the coffee tomorrow."

Killian steps back in a low bow, keeping his gaze level with hers, and with a rolling sweep of his hand and a grin plastered from ear to ear says, "If the lady insists."

-/-

From that day forward, their routine changes. They trade days bringing one another coffee, and Killian stays and studies with Emma in their hidden alcove. It's not long before studying becomes second to talking.

He learns she's a criminal justice major and works as a bail bond's woman. Instead of being in awe at her profession, he simply whistles and says, "Tough lass."

She learns he's double majoring and already has a bachelor's degree in economics. She astutely labels him an overachiever.

Throughout their easy banter, they swap stories and share bits of their lives with one another.

The first and hardest thing Emma knows she has to share is about Henry and being a single mother. It isn't that she keeps knowledge of Henry a secret, but rather knowledge of Henry is privileged. Henry is the most important person in her life, and as carefully as Emma guards her heart, she is even more protective of her son's.

Emma walks into the alcove to find Killian already hunched over a textbook. Steadying her breath, she walks forward and places the coffee on the table, just as he turns to face her in greeting. Instead of taking a seat, she remains standing, cutting off his hello with an effective, "I have a son."

She expects his pupils to dilate or his brow to lift in surprise, hell she even expects him to incredulously ask for clarification. What she is not expecting is for Killian to smile and gently nod his head, a silent encouragement for her to continue underlining his soft and unguarded eyes.

Taken off guard by his easy expression – (and not yet detecting any signs he is going to run) - Emma continues, "His name is Henry and he's six years old. He is everything to me and always will come first in my life. So either that is okay with you and we can continue our friendship, or it is not okay with you, in which case-" she gestures between them with a pointed finger, "this is over."

Killian digests Emma's words and assesses her resolute stare. She's daring him to run, almost expecting it. Although he's truly surprised by her revelation, he's even more amazed Emma is choosing to open up and trust him with this most personal knowledge. Already, he wants to know more about the lad and about Emma's life as a mother.

He realizes now is the opportune moment to divulge his secret to Emma, but out of fear for self-preservation, he chooses to ignore the thought. Instead, he simply grins and asks, "So is that why you are here so early in the morning? The lad has his own school to get to? And here I thought you were just a punctual 4.0 student, when really young Henry is behind your academic performance."

A breathless chuckle escapes Emma's lips as she moves to sit next to him. Nodding his head encouragingly, she accepts his silent offer to share only what she feels comfortable disclosing.

She tells him only fragments of her history, but enough to know she became pregnant at nineteen, was abandoned soon after by Henry's father, and has worked hard to provide for Henry while managing to attend school part time. She omits the parts about growing up in the foster system and about her time in prison after being framed by Neal for a crime he committed – (mere days after informing Neal of her pregnancy).

Killian takes it all in stride, oscillating between pride in Emma's courage and resiliency, anger at the coward of a man who hurt her, and curiosity about the boy who can makes her eyes sparkle at just the thought of him.

"Thank you for sharing more about your beginnings with me, love. It is truly an honor."

Emma's eyes roll at his flowery language, but as the morning continues, she's plagued with the comforting yet nagging thought that Killian is not going to run away. It's irrational - she's only known the man for a month and is just now considering him a friend. Logically, she knows he may eventually run and leave just as Neal and Walsh had done. Yet somehow, her gut is pulling her toward him. It's a scary thought and one she won't allow herself to contemplate just yet.

So the next morning when Emma enters the alcove, she ignores the pitter-patter of sparks in her belly at the sight of Killian, happily waiting for her arrival with a genuine smile and an offered cup of coffee in hand.

-/-

(October)

Slowly yet quickly a true friendship emerges. They make each other laugh and tease each other mercilessly. They steal pieces of each other's breakfast pastries, borrow pens and highlighters, and as silly as besotted teenagers, kick at each other's ankles under the desk when teasing reaches its peak.

"You mean to tell me Thor is the lad's favorite superhero? Thor, the big hammer wielding gorilla?" Killian's nose scrunches as if a foul odor has wafted up to his olfactory bulbs.

"What's wrong with Thor?"

Killian snorts and waives his hand through the air. "He left his lady love on earth and returned to Asgard. Stupid git should have taken the girl with him or have stayed with her."

Emma laughs behind her cup of coffee. "It's not like he had a choice. He had a duty to his family, to his kingdom. Jane understood and they were still together, just you know," she shrugs her shoulders, "long distance."

"Aye, but they were always kept apart by their own duties. Not exactly a happy ending." Killian shakes his head; the irony of the parallels between his story and Thor's not lost on him, even if Emma didn't have a clue. And Emma didn't have a clue because he had yet to reveal the truth about himself.

She narrows her eyes in amusement. "Right, well I hardly think my six year old likes Thor because of the romantic back story. Henry's all about super powers and heroes defeating villains."

"I actually didn't mind Loki that much."

This time Emma is the one to snort. "Odin will smite you."

-/-

"What do you mean you aren't British? I've been referring to you as 'the Englishman' to all my friends!"

"You talk about me to your friends?" he smugly retorts.

She rolls her eyes and throws a pencil at him. "Shut up. Seriously though."

He chuckles and picks the pencil up. "Seriously? I'm Danish," he sweeps Emma's bangs aside and places the pencil behind her ear, "I'm from Denmark."

Emma pretends the rush of heat that sweeps over her body is due to the library's heater and not the gentle brush of Killian's fingers in her hair. "What in the hell is a Danish person doing all the way out here in sleepy Storybrooke, Mass?"

Killian stills at the question. It isn't unexpected, but he wishes they could have bypassed this venture into his roots. He knows the thought isn't fair to Emma, she is opening up to him, exposing bits and pieces of herself to him, the least he can do is return the favor.

He should have disclosed his secret the day she shared about Henry. Emma had trusted him enough to reveal her most guarded secret, yet he still hasn't found the courage to reciprocate. It's cowardly, but he's afraid she will not accept him upon learning the entire truth - that he is the prince and sole heir to the throne of Denmark. That he's attending university in Storybrooke because shortly following his brother's death, his reckless behavior and wild partying became the focal point of gossip magazines, besmirching the royal family's reputation. Thus, in an effort to distract the media and bring the state of Denmark back to the forefront, his father's advisors moved him stateside to ensure his education be completed in private seclusion, away from Denmark's public eye.

In retrospect – (though he's loathed to admit it) - he is thankful his father's advisors stepped in and uprooted him to the states. His behavior following Liam's death was certainly bad form, the exact opposite of what Liam had instilled in him. And if nothing else, his move to the states all those years ago led to Emma. But even telling Emma how much her friendship is beginning to mean to him would be a step too far. In his gut he knows, if Emma were to learn his secret, she would run from him, from their friendship, and from the possibility of becoming something more.

So instead he settles for a half-truth. "Just wanted a slower pace after… after my older brother, Liam, passed away."

Not expecting the serious turn in conversation, a breath escapes Emma. A part of her aches to run at the intimacy of the moment, but a stronger part wants to offer him comfort - even if the only comfort she can provide is a listening ear and open presence. Determined, she shifts in the chair, faces him squarely, and leans slightly forward in encouragement for him to continue.

Registering Emma's supporting presence, and realizing this is the first time he's opening up to someone who isn't Robin, Killian steels himself before beginning. "You know I'm studying military history and political science, and that I already have a degree in economics." He pauses and softly laughs as Emma playfully rolls her eyes as if to say, 'brag much?'

Thankful for the brief respite, he clears his throat, gathering his courage to continue. "What you don't know is, I'm pursuing my degrees at the urgency of my father. Liam was supposed to inherit my father's…business, but the undiagnosed lung cancer had other plans for him I suppose."

Killian grits his teeth in unresolved anger at the unfairness of it all. Why bother with health check-ups every six months if the cancer is routinely missed and found only when it's already terminal? Liam - bright and pure and perfect - was stolen by the same pestilent disease that had claimed his mother's life. No matter how many years Killian may live, no matter how many blessings abound for him, he's not sure he will ever forgive God for allowing cancer to exist and proliferate.

Seeing the tension in his eyes, Emma places her hand on Killian's wrist and gives a gentle squeeze to communicate she is still with him. The small act is enough to pull him out of his melancholic thoughts. He offers a small smile in thanks and straightens in his chair, readjusting himself to the present moment.

"Well needless to say, my bloke of a brother left me to inherit our father's…business, when the arse knew damn well I didn't want it." Killian emits a self-deprecating laugh and waves his free hand in the air. He exhales a deep breath and gathers himself once more. "I handled Liam's passing poorly; drinking myself into stupors and getting into embarrassing scrapes back home. One day, my father had enough and shipped me off to the states to finish my education, away from the painful memories and distractions provided by home…"

Killian's voice trails off as his wrist moves from under Emma's hand to rest atop hers, giving her a gentle squeeze in gratitude. They both still at the exchange, locking eyes with one another. He silently pleads with her to not ask for more details, the pain of recalling his past still difficult despite the time he's had to heal.

Reading his eyes and recognizing a fellow broken soul, Emma nods her head in understanding. With her free hand, she takes a sip of her coffee and simply asks, "So can I now call you, Danish?"

Killian roars with laughter and Emma smiles behind her coffee cup at the sound.

"Whatever makes you happy, Swan."

Smiling, Emma moves her hand from under his, bends her arm at the elbow and rests it atop the table. She curls her hand into a fist and rests her chin on her knuckles. With a disarming sigh she asks, "So I take it if Liam were around, I'd be able to ask him about your embarrassing childhood stories?" She grins, letting him know she would have loved to of had the opportunity.

He meets her grin square on, eyes crinkling at the happy thought. "Aye lass, I imagine he would have loved to divulge embarrassing and completely over exaggerated stories about my youth. He was a right git, always referring to me as his 'little brother.' Bloody annoying it was."

They both laugh at Killian's reminiscence and continue the morning in their usual easy banter and effortless conversation.

The very next morning, still not over misinterpreting his accent, Emma surprises Killian by bringing him a cheese danish for breakfast. He doesn't stop smiling the rest of the day.