I'm glad so many of you are enjoying this tale. Yes, Killian was a bit at a loss for what Emma was really asking in the last chapter. Poor boy didn't realize she meant to ask him out not to babysit. But you'll see the fallout of that (from both Emma and Killian) in this chapter, as well as a little more backstory on Liam. Plus there will be some cutie-patootie Roland in here.

Mary Margaret dropped to her knees as she reached an arm under the floral decorated bed, blindly searching for the match to the shoe that Emma was holding in her hand. "I know it is under here," she grunted inelegantly, pressing her chest to the floor so that she could see underneath the dust ruffle.

"It's fine," Emma said consolingly. "Don't worry about it. I just thought if you had them, I would borrow your yellow shoes."

"I do have them," the brunette teacher protested. "I just have to find the one. It's not like I came home with just one shoe. I'm not Cinderella."

Ruby emerged from the narrow walk in closet with her arms loaded down with outfits that she unceremoniously dumped on the bed before clearing her throat. "Seriously, Mary Margaret. I know you're a teacher and you have found your Prince Charming, but there is no excuse for this." She gestured wildly to the pile of clothes. "It's like sweater sets go to your closet to mate. The sweater sets are giving birth to other sweater sets."

Emma laughed at the indignant huff that rang out from under the bed. "Ruby, we're not all as fashion forward as you are. Maybe Mary Margaret likes sweater sets."

"I do. They are comfortable and I don't have to worry about a jacket inside. If my classroom is warm then I can remove the outer one. If it's cold then…"

"You," Ruby said accusingly, "just described what is wrong with most people's interpretation of fashion. Utility over style. It's a tragedy of epic proportions." Playfully lifting a hand to her forehead, she spun in a half circle before collapsing on the chair that sat next to their friend's bed. Her limbs rose in the air and fell with the dramatic display. "I can't believe the two of you."

"I'm not the one with the velour track suit," Emma said defensively, "so no dragging me into this."

Mary Margaret emerged from her crouched position sans shoe and with a distinct downward turn of her mouth. "It is just something comfortable I wear when I'm exercising here at the loft. I don't go out in public with it. And it's quieter than the nylon one."

"You don't get any points for that," Ruby said as if she couldn't believe that was even an argument. "It has Princess written across the butt of the pants. It's embarrassing. What if the building was on fire? Would you really want the firefighters to see you in that thing?" Shuddering, she pursed her lips together. "I love you Mary Margaret. You are funny and sweet. You are one of the smartest people I know. You are great with kids and animals. It's amazing really when you consider that you are beautiful too. But you have no taste in clothing, which is embarrassing for your fashion designer friend here." Ruby punctuated her speech with a sparkling smile to her disheveled friend who was fishing dust bunnies out of her short dark hair. "And you, Emma, are asking to borrow something from her. I thought I taught you better."

"Shoes!" Emma said in an exasperated tone. "I was asking to borrow shoes. We're the same size and it made more sense than finding a pair to go with this outfit." Dressed in a black dress with white dots that flared out from her hips and was cinched at the waist by a wide golden yellow belt, the talent scout was holding a perfectly matched golden yellow shoe.

Mary Margaret jumped to her feet in a flash and was headed into the bathroom as though she was in a desperate need. "I think it's in here!"

Ruby giggled at the sight, lifting her own feet up to the bed to use as an ottoman. "So explain why the panic over the outfit. It's not like this is a date." Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she watched her blonde friend blanche at the mention and reminder.

"Who would she be dating?" Mary Margaret asked, her hand triumphantly holding up the yellow shoe and tossing it to Emma. "I thought you had decided to live your life like one of those spinster comedies. You're dating?"

"I'm not dating," Emma said, balancing on one foot and sliding her newly acquired shoes on one at a time. "Ruby and her grandmother are trying to change that though. Unsuccessfully I might add."

"Hey, don't blame me. I encouraged you to ask him out, which is not that hard of a concept. I can't help it that you failed miserably."

Casting the two women a questioning glance, Mary Margaret sat down on her bed, swatted Ruby's feet down, and then began to fold the sweaters that she had been teased about earlier. "I think I deserve an explanation. Who was this and how did you fail?"

It was Ruby not Emma who gave a run-down of the attempt to ask Killian Jones out just two nights before. She did so in her usually dramatic style, including trying and butchering his accent while Emma frowned, crossed her arms, and blushed over the tale. "Yes," Emma said with a harsh sigh. "He thought I was asking him to drive Henry home."

Mary Margaret giggled girlishly at the story, dropping in a few questions and raising an eyebrow when she found out that it was her fellow teacher that Emma had tried to entice. "There are a few teachers and more than a few mothers who have tried and failed," she said in her best motherly tone. "You're in good company."

"Great," Emma said turning to inspect the outfit in the mirror. "I can add myself to the list of women who made a fool out of herself in front of him. That makes this whole thing so much easier."

"He honestly seemed okay with Henry hanging out with him," Ruby said as though that was supposed to be a consolation. "And after Neal flaked, I'd say it was pretty cool of him to offer to take Henry to the upper grade basketball game."

Mary Margaret went from her head tilted in empathy to smiling. "Wait, so he's taking Henry to the game?"

"Yes, my son has a date tonight and I don't. And the thing is that I didn't even want a date. I was content just working. Then Ruby and Granny got involved and now I'm kicking myself over my social awkwardness and feeling jealous of my son." She looked critically at herself. "And now I feel like the world's biggest dork for wishing I hadn't asked him. Not to mention an even bigger dork for dressing up on the off chance I see him on my way to Boston."

"Killian's not really known for dating anyone," Mary Margaret said, brushing a bit of the dust from her search off the front of her sweater. "He doesn't really socialize with anyone from work at all. He's friendly enough, but he's not out there mixing it up with people. I guess I'm just surprised he would even be willing to take on Henry. I don't know, but I think that could be a good sign that you're at least on his radar."

Grimacing at her friend, Emma stretched over to grab the yellow purse that they had unearthed earlier. "We all love your optimism, but you have to admit this is bordering on lockers after math class kind of discussion. Next thing you know, you'll be asking him if he's ever noticed me. Then we'll sit around eating candy and analyzing each word and gesture. Let's just skip this and move on to the part where I realize I was mistaken and I binge on some junk food while thinking up names for my cats."

***AAA***

"You have the cleanest car I've ever seen," Liam stated as he caught the keys that Killian was throwing to him. He'd rented his own car when he'd arrived in the US, but the cost of keeping it had been a bit much, especially for longer trips. So he limited his use and managed to borrow his brother's every once in a while.

"It's because he isn't a papa," Roland said as though this was common knowledge. Robin's truck was rather neat, but it often had small hidden surprises like the lollipop that his son had hidden because he didn't like the taste or the action figure that was on a secret mission in the side pocket.

"I expect you to return it in that condition too," Killian said with his best warning look. "Henry and I will take care of your…what is this thing?" He pointed at the sedan that might as well have had a soccer mom sticker on the back of it.

Robin and Will were already climbing into the jeep with waves to Killian, Henry, and Roland and a few laughs from Will. "Bloody hell, you've turned into a regular nursemaid," he told his friend. "We've got to get you out a bit more and out of this rut."

"Language gentlemen," Robin said as Liam mockingly saluted and called him Papa. "At least in front of the wee ones."

While Killian was the first to pretend that such banter and teasing was sophomoric and without consequence, he did feel a slight pang at watching his brother and friends pile into his own vehicle for adventure. It had not been that long ago that he was the one traipsing off with his two best mates on a road trip or to see their favorite bands. He had woken up on his share of nights with a horrible hangover and in some pretty awful positions. There was the night that Will got arrested and he couldn't even remember what city they were in let alone what had happened to his friend. Now he was stuck caring for others' children while they went off on such journeys without him.

Shepherding Henry and Roland away from the three whooping and hollering men, Killian was contemplating ordering a pizza or allowing the boys to gorge on the snacks available at the game when Henry interrupted him.

"I'm kind of surprised you like basketball," he said while deftly deflecting Roland's attempt to spin a web at him just like Spiderman. "I thought you'd like soccer."

The man raised his brow in wonder at such a question before realizing what the student meant. "Oh the British thing," he chuckled as the youngest of the trio scrunched his face up tightly to try again with the attempt at the web spinning. His miniature features were a display of determination that Killian found both admirable and hilarious. "I have many interests, Henry, and I've been in the States for a while so it isn't that unusual."

That seemed to satisfy Henry who extended an arm in a half-hearted attempt to shot his own web at Roland. "My dad likes baseball," he confided. "But I don't think he goes to many games. Just watches them on television and stuff. My mom took me to a Red Sox game in Boston last year. Do you like baseball?"

"I've watched a round or two of it before. Can't say that I follow it regularly though."

"You're supposed to be dead," Roland whined as his arm extended toward Killian. "I am shooting my web at you."

Taking in the boy's crestfallen expression, Killian decided that laughter was probably not the proper response. "I must have built up an immunity," he said, realizing that the concept might be too advanced for his little friend. "You'll have to give it another go at the game."

"But you like music," Henry said, ignoring Roland's shaking his arm to see if maybe his web was somehow clogged. "I mean you must like it if you teach it."

"Aye, I've been rather fond of music all my life really. What about you? What do you like listening to when I'm not forcing the classics into your ears?"

"My mom is always bringing home different samples of music from different groups and singers that nobody has ever heard of before. We listen to them all the time. In the car. While she's in the shower. When she cooks. Even after I've gone to bed. Some of them are pretty good." He made a slight robot move when Roland switched his game over to Transformers. "That's what she is doing tonight, you know. Going to listen to a band."

"Doesn't sound like too bad of a job," Killian noted, wondering if Henry was feeling a bit neglected in his mother's absence. When their lesson had been over and Killian mentioned the game to his student, he'd seen how Henry's face had fallen momentarily. Though he had readily agreed, Killian didn't sense that it was a normal occurrence to be without his mother. "Do you ever get to go along?"

"Sometimes when it is a fair or something like that. My mom doesn't take me to bars or clubs. I'm too young for that. Usually I just stay with my father or Granny. But my dad had a date tonight." He made a little face. "I don't think my mom likes that."

Having been a teacher for a while, Killian was well aware that students often used him or other faculty as sounding boards for their family issues. He'd heard plenty of laments and questions that to an adult seemed pretty plain to see the answer to but not to a child. "I'll bet he'd rather be hanging out with you. Besides, I'm appreciative for the help with our little Transformer here."

Henry rolled his eyes as Killian practically had to tackle Roland to keep him from darting out into traffic upon seeing a car he was sure was from the latest movie. When Killian returned with his hand atop the kindergartner's head to guide him, the two shared a bit of a conspiratorial look.

"My mom…she likes other things besides music," Henry blurted out. "You know, she's not the job or anything."

"Does she now?" He seemed a bit distracted as he steered them toward the side entrance to the school. "It's good to have a few interests, as diversity is a benefit too."

Shuffling inside the building behind his teacher, Henry shot him a sly smile. "You might have more in common with her than music, you know? Like…"

"I'm sure there might be a few things," Killian agreed, "but I rather think your mother has a full life with you, your father, and…"

"My mom doesn't have my father," Henry interrupted. "She's not been on a date with him in a long time. Since before I was born actually. She has been on a few dates with other guys, but nothing serious. I mean…"

"Henry, I don't think your mum would appreciate your discussing her dating life with me. I'm practically a stranger to her." Letting go of Roland, he fished in his pocket for his phone to call for the pizza. "What do you guys say to pizza?"

"She trusted you to take care of me," Henry said pointedly. "And she doesn't trust anyone."

***AAA***

Liam blinked his eyes toward the empty stage, trying to make out the set up before he and Robin made their approach to the club's manager. He could admit they were probably putting the cart before the horse, but it was hardly unusual. The three friends were excited about the possibility and he was not about to let the opportunity fly by.

While Will was probably just in it for the free drinks and fun of it, Liam had to admit that he missed their days of making music. He enjoyed not only the performing and adoration from a handful of fans, but he loved the process of making music. He enjoyed late nights with Killian and Robin to write the lyrics and test out notes. He never felt quite so excited as he did when he heard a song he wrote being played.

"This place is a little too banker if you know what I mean," Robin said, his hand wrapping around a beer bottle, which he used to point to the stage. "I can't quite wrap my head around it – us being up there again."

Liam's own hands were clasped together in front of him, his elbows resting on the bar. "We've got a long way to go to get there," he noted. "We're short a guitarist and, if Killian won't man up about it, a vocalist too."

"We don't need to be mentioning that to Will. The man's bass skills are up to par, but his voice is likely peel the paint at most of the venues. Perhaps Killian could suggest someone? A graduate of that school he teaches at? A mate from back home, maybe?"

His mouth pulling into a sour grin, he wondered why on earth he had offered to be the designated driver for the evening. "Killian isn't exactly bubbling over with excitement about this idea," he confided in Robin. "Lord knows I've tried to make him talk about everything, but he won't It's as though his life was split in two that day. There's his life before it. And then now. He doesn't like looking backward."

"Who does?" Robin took another swig before continuing. "I know that I don't mention her much, but I think of my Marian quite often. Miss her terribly and loathe days when I fail at being both mother and father to Roland, but it doesn't change the fact that she is gone from us. I'm on my own and doing quite well if I do say so myself."

"Modesty and humility were always your strong points," Liam groused.

"And I'm looking at the future that will be different than any I might have once imagined. She won't be in it in any tangible way, but she wouldn't want me to sit about and cry for her and miss out on the opportunities. She might have been the love of my life, but it doesn't mean I'm never to love again."

"Is this lecture for me or for Killian? Because I shouldn't have to remind you that he's not here."

The music in the club was loud, but not deafening, another point in Robin's column for identifying it as more of a banker or white collar location. Few people were actually at the bar and even fewer on the dance floor. Someone was playing music, but Liam would hardly refer to him as a DJ, as the man never spoke and played the original tracks rather than doctored or newer versions. It was early yet, but the locale was somewhat disappointing in that regard.

"You've had your share of complicated relationships too, mate," Robin said, tipping the bottle in the taller man's direction. "We don't speak of it much, but…"

"A break up is hardly the same thing as you and my brother have endured. I don't plan to milk it as such." His lips protruded as he exhaled sharply. "And I firmly believe that the things, the trials, the tribulations make us much more in touch with our music. It's not something that everyone has inside them."

Robin gave a sort of noncommittal nod of his head and then squinted toward the stage. "Isn't that the woman Granny was talking about to you? Evelyn or something?"

"Emma," Liam answered. "And I don't know." He too squinted at the blonde woman in a conversation with one of the stage crew. She was pointing with one hand and held the other on her yellow belted waist. The sides of her long blonde hair were clipped up on top of her head and the rest cascaded down like a waterfall. "Aye, that is her. No wonder my brother…"

With his mouth full of beer, Robin's laugh sounded more like a cough or as though he was clearning his throat. "Wait, your brother likes her."

"I don't know if the prat realizes it yet," Liam said affectionately, "but he came home the other night after meeting her and brought her up in conversations no fewer than five times. I wasn't even talking about anything related to her. I think we were discussing which dishwashing detergent he insists I pick up and he began comparing her hair to lemons. It was odd." He shook his head to mimic his disbelief. "That kid he's babysitting tonight? That's her lad."

Robin swallowed the beer in his mouth, leaning his head back to contemplate this development. "Wait, she has a kid. Your brother has fallen for a single mom. Or wait is she married? Is he lusting after some other bloke's wife?"

"No, no," Liam said. "I distinctly remember Granny saying single. I don't know though. Does she look like my brother's type?"

"Can't say that I've given much thought to his type. When was the last time…"

Robin's voice drifted as the large hand of Will grabbed his shoulder. "I'll be seeing you two," the lanky man said with a slight slur to his words. Robin wondered when he'd managed to drink what with the phone calls and all. "Anastasia is a bit peeved I managed to sneak off without her tonight. Got to go and appease her before she gets really irate." He leaned a bit, losing his balance in the process and bumping shoulders with Liam.

"And how do you propose getting back to Maine from here?" Liam asked. "You are in no condition to drive and have no car in which to do that. Thinking of taking a walk now, are you?"

Will lunged forward a bit to wrap his arms over both of the men. "I hardly have to explain meself to the lot of you," he said with his chin up in insolence. "But Anastasia has sent someone to take me back. So you two enjoy your music and merriment while I go see to me own matters." Lips still wet from whatever he had been drinking, he quickly planted his lips on Robin's cheek first and then Liam's before bolting away.

"Cheeky bastard," Liam grumbled, turning his face back to where Emma was talking to one of the band members. Her face, he decided, was in juxtaposition to her in charge body language. There was something soft about the way she could smile. He could see why his brother might show an interest.

"Maybe we should look at replacing him," Robin mused, ordering another drink before following Liam's gaze. "Are you sure it's your brother who is interested in her? You have been staring at her for a while now."

"I'm just wondering what it is that my brother is thinking? She doesn't quite look like Milah or any other woman my brother has dated. I'm just wondering if it is some psychological thing. Granny says you are a perfect match and boom you have feelings? Seems a bit like voodoo to me."

"You could try talking to her and see if she is up to snuff," Robin suggested. "But you need to remember that Killian is a grown man. He's capable of finding a lass to date if he so chooses. You are not the big brother raising him any longer, mate. You're…"

"Maybe it's high time I was."

***AAA***

"That you mother?" Killian asked as Henry shoved his phone into his pocket. The game had not been anywhere close to a blowout, but he'd enjoyed the excitement of the parents and other students, including Henry's commentary. When the game was over and Roland was way too wired on snacks from the concession stand to even blink, Killian had rounded the both up and trudged the familiar way to Granny's where he had been told that Neal would pick up the older of the two boys. However, there was no sight of the man and Granny had offered up a table for them to wait.

Trying his best to ignore the glass crashing into glass as Roland sent the salt and pepper shakers on an intergalactic mission to save a bottle of ketchup, Henry nodded. "She said to apologize to you about my dad and to ask Granny to take over until she gets back."

"It's honestly no trouble to have you about," Killian answered, his left arm closing over Roland who was expanding his rescue mission by trying to climb into the next booth. The couple occupying it was not looking happy about it. "It's good to have an extra set of hands to help keep this one under control."

Henry reached over to the napkin dispenser and moved it to the middle of the table before gently removing the salt shaker from the young boy's grasp. "A launch pad," he suggested. "They can refuel here until we are ready to start the mission. But I sense there are agents of darkness about. We're going to have to be careful and quiet to make sure we aren't found." Placing a finger of his own lips, he waited until Roland mimicked the movement and quietly let the pepper shaker rest in a spot next to its mate.

Waving his right hand at the waitress, he ordered them a plate of cheese fries to share and non-caffeine beverages for the boys. She nodded and told him she'd put a rush on it. "See," Killian said upon noticing the marked improvement, "you are on the same wavelength."

"Quiet Uncle Killian," Roland admonished in a loud whisper. "Don't wake up the dark forces."

Henry and Killian both stifled laughter and continued their conversation in hushed tones so as to play along. Every once in a while either or both of them would halt the talking and look about suspiciously as though they had heard some telltale sign that danger was near. When the plate of fries arrived along with the drinks (Killian's being coffee that would help him stay awake), he readjusted in his seat to reach for the sugar packets, tearing one open with his teeth to pour it in.

Henry watched the movement in a bit of fascination, his brow furrowing. "How did you…I mean…Did you…"

Killian's smile was a little sad as he used the spoon on the side of his saucer to stir his coffee and its added contents. "I suppose you mean my hand. I wear the prosthetic to keep everyone from commenting and noticing, but it doesn't exactly work the same as a real one."

"I didn't mean to ask," Henry said, looking down at the pile of fries that were practically cemented together with gooey cheese. "I mean there are rumors about it at school and all. I just never really paid attention. It's true? You only have one? You lost your left hand."

Roland was inspecting the plate with the same concentration, trying to extract a single fry without much success. "He didn't lose it," the boy protested. "It's right there."

"I was in an accident back in my home," Killian answered. "It was a drunken driver who hit my car without so much as slowing down. My hand was caught in between the door and the steering column."

"I'm sorry," Henry said, stealing a glance at the glove covered one that had taken its place. He knew that he'd never seen his teacher without it. "Did it hurt?"

"Was quite painful, aye," he said after a sip of his coffee. "But it was long ago." He wasn't about to go into what all he had lost that day. The fact that there were four of them in that car and only two walked out of the hospital. The accident had cost him his hand and two women their lives. It had cost Roland his mother. He didn't speak of the injustice of the other driver only receiving a small scratch and a limited term in jail that had been cut short for good behavior. None of that seemed appropriate for a boy who was not yet in his teens. Instead, Killian offered to show him how the hand worked and take the mystery out of it. Perhaps then Henry would quit stealing looks and then turning away.

After earning a "cool" as a response, Killian protected his coffee from air bound sugar and sweetener packets that Roland was sending to ward off the approaching enemy forces. He was about to switch tactics and lecture the youngest of his charges when a pink packet went sailing and landed just shy of the tall glass in front of a blonde woman. "So sorry, love," Killian called out to the blonde woman. "Seems my friend here is mightier than he might appear."

"No damage," the woman answered. "I was just thinking that my drink could be a bit sweeter. I'll take this as a sign." Ripping the packet open and dumping the contents in her glass, she smiled. "I'm sure this will do the trick. And it might even ward off those dark forces."

Killian didn't miss the way that Henry blushed at being overheard or the way the boy avoided the woman's eyes. "They are about, lass, best be careful about it."

"Of course," she said, pausing to sip her tea. "But I know from his mother that you've got an excellent co-captain there with Henry. He's well-versed in fighting off the darkness."

Henry smiled bashfully and tittered with the compliment. Scrunching up his face in response to Killian's silent question, he tilted his head toward the woman. "Mr. Jones, this is my mom's client, Elsa. Elsa, this is my teacher, Mr. Jones."

Elsa coughed a bit before biting out pleasantries to the man at the other table. Casting a look to Granny, she silently pleaded for an intervention that came as the older woman lumbered forward and dropped a green, handwritten bill on the table. "Oh so you've met," she said, arms crossed over her chest. "Elsa, this is one of the two brothers I was telling you about. Killian is the younger of the two."

The woman's pale white skin became pink almost instantly. "And he's…"

"Not the one I was thinking of, no," Granny said, reminding the woman that she had no filter or furtive abilities. "I see you as a better match for the brother, Liam."

It was Killian's turn to laugh as Roland ducked under the table to come up next to Henry. "My brother mentioned that we were the latest targets of your matchmaking Mrs. Lucas. I suppose I hadn't taken him at his word on that. Dare I ask who you plan to pair me with since this lovely woman is my brother's intended?"

Granny pulled an empty plate from in front of Elsa, blindly holding it out to her side as she waited for the busboy to grab it from her. Even without lecturing him for leaving such an item for too long, the young man ducked his head in shame. "I was seeing you as more compatible with Emma," the woman said as plainly as she would giving someone a list of the specials for the day. "And seeing the two of you talk the other evening confirmed my suspicions there."

"Emma?" Killian asked.

"Yeah," Henry said with a quick grin to Granny. "My mom."

Not to sound needy, but please keep the comments, favorites, kudos, and likes coming.