Thank you for understanding piratesails. I'm feeling much better now and even starting to thaw out from another round of snow and ice. I didn't mean for this to be so long, but I got a bit carried away. I hope you are enjoying and can see a few of the moments we talked about. Here's a hint about Part 4...get your syrup ready.

She could see their shadows through the curtains that she had been staring through earlier that evening. The shorter of the two figures was perched closest, her chin resting on her arms at the back of the chair and her knees digging into the seat. Pulling her gray knit cap down and burrowing her hands into the pockets of the jacket that was not appropriate for the cold wind that was blowing, Emma made her way up the steps and onto the porch, halfway expecting Mary Margaret to have vacated her spying spot to throw open the door and demand an explanation for her tardiness.

"It's unlocked," the teacher called out as Emma slipped inside and tried to ignore the pointed stares the couple was shooting her. "Have a good time?"

"He's home, safe and sound," she announced, dropping the keys into David's waiting hand.

"And you both suck, by the way. He wasn't drunk. And you clearly aren't either."

"I wouldn't say I was drunk," David conceded, pocketing the keys and looking away in that just got caught sort of way. "But I didn't think it was a good idea for me to drive. I had…"

"A headache," Mary Margaret offered up as a reason, the splotches on her face and tight voice giving away the lie. "And anyway, I'd say that it wasn't a bad thing that you drove him home. I mean it's just 15 or 20 minutes to his place. And it's past midnight now. So you clearly hung out a while or you got lost." She had flipped herself around to a more comfortable and not so obvious sitting position. Clapping her hands in front of her chest, she grinned. "Maybe you two got lost together, shared some body heat?."

"I don't need to know this," David grumbled, standing up and making a grab for bowl of popcorn remnants. "I'm going to go check on Henry. He's been in bed a while now."

Emma yanked her arms out of her jacket and balled her knit hat in her hands, mumbling a thanks to David as he made his escape. She dropped down to the spot on the couch where he had been sitting and tutted her tongue against the top of her mouth at her friend's hopeful expression. "Nothing happened. Nothing is going to happen. Can we stop with the random get Emma and Killian together plots? What's next? Trapping us in an elevator?"

Unconvinced, Mary Margaret leaned forward, her face flushed either from having actually been drinking or excitement. Emma hoped it was the former. "Was there at least a good night kiss?"

Emma rolled her eyes and threw back her head in exasperation. "You know I hate you, right? Not really, but there was no kiss. We aren't in a kissing kind of place."

If her friend was disappointed, there was no sign of it as she pulled out her phone and scrolled threw a few screens. "We? You're a we? I took this tonight," she said conspiratorially though there was nobody in the room. "That look? That one right there. That's the look of man who is most certainly interested in you. No doubt, Emma. And for the record, I noticed that you had a few looks going his way too. I think my stepmother would call that making eyes."

Refusing to look at the proffered phone and its photos, Emma slammed her eyes shut. For good measure, she fisted her hands against them. "Nobody is making eyes at each other. I'm not interested in him. He's not interested in me. And yes, I said we. It's appropriate to use we instead of listing our names each time."

"It would be okay if you were interested, you know? More than okay."

"I'm going to bed now, Mary Margaret." She tried her hardest to ignore the humming of a love song that followed her up the stairs and into her bedroom. It probably didn't work, as she found herself humming the same tune as she readied herself for bed.

***AAA***

Henry bounded ahead of her, his excited chatter keeping up along the street as they made their way past quaint little shops and stores until they reached Granny's. If he had not been weighed down by the parka, gloves, scarf, and hat she had made him wear, he might have actually skipped with excitement over the trip to see Ruby and Granny. She was sure it wasn't about the food as it was about the attention and spoiling he was about to experience.

Pushing open the door and waving him in, she just shook her head as Ruby dropped a stack of menus to embrace the child before he even removed the outer layers of clothing. Swaying back and forth with her arms around him, she called out Granny to come see Henry.

"Looks as though he's angling for a free meal there, Swan," Killian announced, startling her from her reverie with his presence.

"Most kids lean toward being grifters when they can," she said, unwinding her own scarf from around her neck. "What are you doing here?"

"Lunch break," he said pointing to the booth that he seemed to have commandeered for himself. The table was covered with paperwork. "David's been a bit lax on some of his responsibilities lately. I was trying to help my mate out by completing a little paperwork for him."

"At Granny's?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Isn't this a bit…loud? Distracting?"

"Not half as distracting as the chill in the sheriff's station," he responded, reaching out his good hand to help her slide out of the red wool coat she'd borrowed for Mary Margaret. "Heat's on the fritz and Leroy, who usually knocks around until he fixes such things, is currently home in bed with the flu. I thought it might be more productive to set up shop here."

She glanced at the crowded table and the two mugs of coffee, assuming that meant he had company. "We won't disturb you," she said, nodding her head in the direction of her son. "I just promised to bring Henry by and we were going to grab some lunch." Her son's parka, hat, and possibly one of his gloves were strewn over the counter and Granny's voice could be heard from the kitchen as she called out his name.

"I do believe your lunch date has abandoned you, Swan," he said, eyes dancing as he watched her annoyed pose. "You are welcome to join me, if you should like?"

Pursing her lips, she looked back at the table. "It looks like you already have company."

The corners of his mouth turned down in confusion as he followed her gaze with scrutiny he usually reserved for investigations. Zeroing in on the mugs, he tried not to let his appreciation for her clearly jealous reaction to two empty mugs show. He was partially successful. It's a bit of a mess, which is not my style. I started off with a cup of tea, but needed something more robust to get my brain cells firing with some precision." He was rambling.

"I can't imagine why you would be tired," she said, following him over to the table and ignoring the voice in her head that told her Ruby was probably peeking out from the service window and texting Mary Margaret notice of this development. "I mean it's not like we were out way past bedtime or anything."

"Aye, but the company was so enjoyable that I didn't find it all that taxing." He waved his good hand over the paperwork and then set to stacking it back in semi-order. "This on the other hand could put a caffeinated man to sleep for a thousand years. Thankfully you are here to rescue me from such doldrums of balance sheets and projections."

She leaned forward in the booth, her arms resting in a folded position at the edges of the papers and journals. "At least I'm good at being a distraction." Her quick glance in the direction of the kitchen confirmed her suspicions as she saw Ruby dart out of view as soon as their eyes met. "I know you've been getting a little bit of liquid nutrition, but have you had lunch yet? I have a distinct feeling that Ruby will be asking for our orders any second now."

Dropping the stack of paperwork on the seat next to him, he pushed the empty cups to the edge of the table. "Not surprising. She has to at least come over and get a good look before reporting any developments back to the boss."

"The boss?"

"Aye, Mary Margaret of course. The woman has clearly recruited an army of well-meaning citizens to encourage us to spend time together. If I was a conspiracy believing bloke, I might think she busted the station's radiator simply to have me here at the same time as you."

She laughed, passing him a menu that probably had not changed in decades and was therefore not really needed. "I don't know that she'd go that far, but she and David were looking guilty last night when I got back and he was completely sober. I'm just grateful she didn't drain the gas tank so we got stranded or something."

He was going to offer a quip back when Ruby arrived with two glasses of water and a knowing smile on her stylized red lips. "So the specials today…"

"I just want a grilled cheese and onion rings," Emma interrupted, noting that Ruby wasn't even pretending to write down the order. "And a hot cocoa with…"

"Whipped cream and cinnamon," Ruby finished for her. "Your kid's in the back having his and trying to convince Granny to put in a good word about some new video game. Must think she has an in with Santa."

Emma could have challenged back again, but she didn't. That would mean encouraging Ruby to stick around longer than necessary and offer more fodder for what she was sure was going to be a congratulatory message marathon between the two brunettes. So instead, she let Killian order a double stack burger. He was vacillating between the fries and onion rings when she reached over and snatched the menu out of his hands. "He'll take the fries with cheese and bacon," Emma announced confidently. Ruby nodded her head a little surprised as she turned and walked away.

"A bit bossy there, Swan?" he asked, chuckling. "Not that I mind a woman taking charge. It's quite attractive actually."

She dropped her straw into the ice water and stirred it around for a second. "I wanted the fries too, but it seemed a little much to order both. So I thought we could…"

"Share?" he asked, smiling.

***AAA***

David was flipping through a photo album with his mother when she and Henry returned, his voice soft and gentle as he questioned his mother about the people in one of the faded shots. He lifted his head as Emma told Henry to go grab something to drink and plates for the food in the bag she was still holding..

She greeted both the Nolans, depositing a kiss on Ruth's cheek as she took the seat on the other side of her. "Good day?" she asked David.

"We're struggling a little, but not too bad. I thought you were going to pick up lunch at Granny's. Did you forget us? That bag's kind of small." He patted his mother's hand as she traced over the picture of David from a Christmas when he was only 10.

"Henry and I already ate, you pig," she admonished, removing her gloves. "Do you honestly think I would forget you?"

"I wouldn't blame you," he admitted, helping his mother to stand as they moved as a group into the kitchen to sit around the small table there. "Emma, I know you weren't thrilled about this whole introducing you to Killian thing."

"Why wouldn't she be happy about that?" Henry asked, sliding plates in front of them and returning to the refrigerator for drinks. "Killian's cool." Emma leaned into her hand as she sat at the table, covering her mouth to avoid smiling or frowning inappropriately.

"Right," David said, shifting his gaze back and forth between mother and son. "Anyway, you know how Mary Margaret can be. It wasn't fair to you for her to keep trying to set you up to meet and spend time together."

Henry stopped midstride with a bottle of water in each hand. "Is that why he was there today, Mom? I thought he was working."

"Today?" David and Ruth asked at the same time. Ruth received a squeeze to her shoulder from David for taking part in the conversation. "Killian was there today?"

Emma busied herself sliding lasagna onto plates and passing little containers of salad to them both as she opened packets of salad dressing. She was divvying up the plastic utensils when Henry answered.

"Yeah, I didn't get to talk to him or anything. I got to hang out in the kitchen." Henry flopped down next to his mother. "Granny gave me an extra slice of pie. She said it was healthy because it's got fruit in it."

"If you can't tell, David, Henry takes after your wife to be. He seriously can't keep a secret." She twisted off the cap of Ruth's water and glanced back at her son expectantly. "Go on. Tell him that I had lunch with Killian. Tell him that if that was part of Mary Margaret's scheme, it worked."

David was barely containing his laughter. "Thanks for the update, Henry. We'll include you in the next strategy session."

***AAA***

"And why exactly is he picking me up for this little shindig?" Emma asked, trying to ignore the fact that she had changed her top four times in the last five minutes to find one that looked halfway decent. "I have a car. I can get both me and Henry there without a problem. You do realize I drive all around Boston every single day without incident."

"Your heater barely works in that car," Mary Margaret said patiently. "David's already here with me to do the last minute prep or he'd drive you."

Tucking her phone against her chin, she ripped off the burgundy top and stood there in the center of the room with her best skinny jeans, boots, and bra. For a moment she considered asking her friend if she could raid her closet for something a little softer than her normal grays and blacks. But that would require a conversation about appearances that she just wasn't ready to have at the moment. "My heater is fine," Emma said as she dug into her suitcase hoping that she had packed something she had forgotten about. She came up empty. "It'll be warm and ready within 20 minutes."

"It'll just take 10 minutes to get to the bowling alley," Mary Margaret reminded her. "So you won't be warm until 10 minutes after you arrive. Not exactly the best for your son, you know."

"You're really annoying, you know that? Already playing the mom card on me." She threw herself back on the bed in frustration, booted feet flying high and bouncing off the mattress.

"Fine. He can pick me up. But just so you know, it doesn't mean anything. It's just a ride to an event. That's it. I'm riding home with you and David."

"Of course. I knew you'd see it my way," Mary Margaret sing-songed. "By the way. If you need a shirt, I laid a few out on my bed. Take your pick." And with that, she disconnected the call.

That was how Emma ended up wearing a royal blue boat neck sweater that seemed to make her eyes look more seafoam than emerald. She had put up the sides of her hair by braiding them and then wrapping them around like a headband across the crown of her head. The rest of her hair hung in loose waves down her back. Silver shooting star earrings and her circle necklace were the only jewelry she wore and her make up was just as minimal.

"You look pretty, Mom," Henry told her when she dropped in to check on Granny who was going to sit with Ruth that evening. The two women were playing checkers in front of the fireplace as the Mrs. Lucas kept up a steady stream of conversation about this and that. The women echoed her son's sentiment and sent her blushing out to the porch where Killian was getting ready to knock.

"You could have just honked," she said as her son slid in to the backseat and he closed the door after her. She smiled while rolling her eyes as he jogged around the car and jumped in the driver's seat. While she wouldn't admit it to Mary Margaret, his car was more comfortable and much warmer than hers.

"Where is fun in that?" he asked. "I realize you and I aren't on an actual date, love, but honking to signal my arrival seems a bit crass."

That earned him her signature crossed arm pose while he and Henry discussed which kind of music to play on the car's upgraded sound system. It seemed all a bit much for a 10 minute drive. By the time they had arrived they had only heard one and half songs. She was still holding the seat back to let Henry out while he had darted ahead and was trash talking playfully with David.

"It's just bowling, Swan. I assure you that this crowd is competitive but lacks real talent. No need to be embarrassed." He fell in step beside her, his arm brushing against hers. Even through the gloves they both wore, she could have sworn his right hand brushed her left.

"You don't know how competitive I can be," she responded as she steeled herself up for a group of perky women like Mary Margaret and the men who loved them. Ruby, her one real ally in all this was perched on a stool at the bar, her face blazing with a smile that was clearly directed at the tall dark haired woman at her side. Even as an advocate for the single life, Emma had to admit the two of the looked really happy as Dorothy stole Ruby's vodka laced cranberry drink and took a sip herself before sharing a quick kiss.

"Are you saying I should prepare to lose?" he asked, nudging her with his hip as they walked toward shoe rental. "Because I can assure you that I have no qualms about taking you down."

Henry had already wiped her out of change and dollar bills for the video game arcade that he was dragging David toward along with another man in a leather jacket with a hoodie underneath. A boy about five years old was following along. The curly haired moppet of a boy turned unsteadly on his heels when he saw Killian and waved more than enthusiastically in their direction.

Killian of course waved back just as violently. "That's Roland, my mate Robin's son. I believe he's to carry the rings in the ceremony."

"Right," Emma said, smiling as the little boy tugged on his father's jacket and pointed in their direction again. "Looks like you've been spotted." Robin, with his son in his arms, was jogging over to where they were in line.

Roland was even more adorable up close with a missing tooth and cheeks that seems round and cherubic as he smiled brightly. He pronounced the name of the man next to her as carefully as he could, emphasizing each letter of Killian. It was clearly something he had been practicing.

"Pleasure to meet you," Robin said, shaking her hand as he shared a not so secret look with Killian. His son slid down his leg and was craning his neck up to his idol. "I've heard a great deal about you."

"Somebody brought me someone to play with," Roland announced proudly, waving his arm in the direction of the arcade where Henry was loading up his newly acquired play pass. "I'm going to play video games. And I'm going to win."

Killian dropped down to eye level with Roland, giving the boy a quick high five. "You see this lovely lass here?" he asked, earning a nod and a blatant stare at her from Roland. "Well, this lass is Henry's mum."

The boy's exploring gaze turned to one of awe as he stared up at her. "Really?"

The adults laughed at his exuberance, as if he had been introduced to a celebrity instead of the mother of a child he had just met a few minutes before. Emma stooped down in a position that mimicked Killian's own. "Nice to meet you, Roland."

There probably would have been more conversation, but Mary Margaret had that teacher voice on to instruct everyone on just how the evening would operate. Bowling would be first, followed by drinks and food, and then everyone could do their own thing.

Emma quirked an eyebrow at Killian who for some reason that she didn't quite understand, was standing next to her still with the occasional incidental touch. "There is more to do than bowl or drink?"

"Aye, this is quite the place, love. Besides the obvious and the arcade, there is a rock climbing wall that way and an indoor go-kart track in the rear. I didn't look, but the owners usually do some sort of outdoor skating rink too."

"Wow," Emma said, glancing around at the abundance of neon and screens. "When I was here last it was just a bowling alley."

Bowling wasn't something she had done often, but she possessed some skills. Or as Killian shouted when she got a strike during her first turn, she was a "natural." She'd been so pleased with her performance that she had hugged him on the way back to her seat. Later Mary Margaret would refer to it more as a tackle, but for that one moment she didn't care. She had bounced up onto the balls of her feet in the rented shoes and thrown her arms wide before closing in around him in an embrace that he fully returned.

"It was just a hug," Emma told the bride the next day when it was clear they were going to do a post mortem on the subject. "I was excited. He was the closest."

"Actually," Mary Margaret said, sipping out of a tea cup with a flower and bird pattern on the side, "he wasn't. I was standing to your right and I think Regina was on your left. And you passed two more people when you sort of barreled toward him. Not that it wasn't a perfectly innocent hug."

That night Emma wasn't thinking about innocent or hidden agendas and innuendos. She simply enjoyed the activity and the company. She hadn't even freaked out when she was introduced to one of the bridesmaids, Tink, who was draped on the arm of Killian's younger brother. The couple seemed to eye her with gleeful vindication as they asked about her background and made silent but obvious glances at the way Killian rested his arm on the back of her chair or whispered to her when certain people were taking their turns.

"You really don't have to do this," Emma said as he walked alongside her to the arcade to hunt down Henry. Despite several stern warnings that he was to stay in her line of sight, he had disappeared a few minutes before. "I'm capable…"

"No one, least of all me, is doubting your abilities, love," Killian told her as he pushed a chair out of their path so that they could both pass the snack bar. "But you have to admit that there are quite a few people watching us with anticipation that I might kiss you right here in front of everyone. I wouldn't be surprised if there are not a few wagers on the timing of it all and our next steps."

She cut her eyes at him, shaking her head. "We can talk about next steps later. Let's go find my son and see what sort of damage he's done."

The damage turned out to be a stomach ache from trading in his game winning tokens on some sour candy that he had eaten way too much of with sugary soda. Emma was about to give him a lecture when Killian stole the nearly empty bag of candy and popped one into his mouth, grimacing. "You actually eat this garbage?" he queried. "It would take a stomach made of iron to digest such junk. I'm quite impressed, as it would have me in bed for a month at least."

Henry just groaned, dropping his head to his lap. "He knows better than this," Emma declared, situating herself beside him and stroking his back. "I thought you were going to win the kayak or the bike."

"Do you know how many tokens that would take?" Henry whined pathetically. "Practically a million."

Emma rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to Killian. "Go join the others," she told him. "I'll be fine on mom duty alone. I may try to get some ginger ale down him and then get him home. Maybe David will…"

Killian ignored the request, dragging a chair over so that he was seated in front of her. "I can't see to abandoning your boy to go play games with the lot of them. Don't worry. Mary Margaret and Dave will understand."

Henry moaned again, throwing in an grunt or two of dissatisfaction and distress. Emma furrowed her brow. "You really don't have to do that."

"Perhaps I want to," Killian challenged. "I could drive the two of you back, if you like. Or I could procure you some of this ginger ale?"

Her lips thinned into a straight line as she considered his offer. "A small one," she requested. "Light on the ice?"

His hand patted her thigh as he stood and gave a cursory search at which of the fun zone's locations would be the best bet. After a moment he was gone with a promise to return directly.

"Mom?" Henry asked, his head still bowed and shoulders hunched.

"Yeah, kid," Emma responded, watching as Killian spoke to the freckle faced teenager behind the counter and was pointed in the direction of the establishment's bar and grill. It took her a moment to realize that Henry had not followed up. "What is it? Do you need to…"

"You like him," Henry said, turning his head to look toward her through glassy eyes. "Don't you?"

"You've been hanging around Mary Margaret and David too much."

"No, David thinks you kind of hate him. But you don't, do you? Because if you did you wouldn't…"

"Henry, I don't hate him," Emma said, rubbing a circle with the palm of her hand on the center of his back. It was a move she used to use when he was a baby and wouldn't stop crying. The soft flannel of his shirt that was so similar to David's felt soft under her hand. It was not the first time her son had sought out to look like one of the few men in his life. "But don't get any ideas. He lives here. We live in Boston. We're just here…"

"It's okay if you do like him," Henry continued, a groan and clutch of his stomach cutting him off. "I mean it's not going to scar me for life or anything. You know, Avery? His mom and dad are divorced. And then his mom started dating this guy. He's really cool and is a pilot and everything. And anyway Avery got to miss about a week of school last spring because his mom got married to the pilot guy. On a beach someplace? Killian owns a boat so you two could..."

"Whoa," Emma said, sinking lower in the molded plastic chair. "Henry, I'm not…"

"I know you don't know yet if you want to marry him. That's okay though. If you like him, you should date him. I think it would be okay."

"Nobody is talking about me marrying anybody," Emma said more harshly than she meant. "I mean we are doing fine on our own...just the two of us. And Killian doesn't. I mean he's a nice guy but I'm not really thinking about dating right now." She grimaced, uncomfortable even having this conversation with her 10 year old son. "Do you understand?"

"Poor guy," Henry lamented in that muffled tone from being curled into himself.

Emma was going to explain that Killian's status of bachelorhood was neither her fault or responsibility, but the man in question returned with a drink carrier, three drinks, and an oversized order of deluxe nachos. It was all balanced in his one good hand.

"I'm not sure the nachos are good for his stomach," she told him as she slipped the nacho basket onto the table and passed her son nearly ice-free drink. "But thanks?"

Killian shrugged as he returned to his seat and peeled the paper off the end of his straw. "I assumed that we would miss dinner with the gang so we might as well have a bit to chew on while we wait for the lad's miraculous recovery."

"You don't have to…"

"Swan, I'm well aware of my duties and responsibilities. Did it occur to you that I might want to sit with you and discuss politics, music, your amazing bowling game, or anything else other than David and Mary Margaret's pending wedding? I don't believe you give yourself enough credit for being a charming conversationalist when you so desire." He winked in an awkward way that made her wonder for a moment if he had something irritating his eye before she realized the gesture. It might actually have been the most awkward wink she'd ever seen except for her son trying to do that at 3 years old and simply blinking at her.

She didn't bother to tell him about his role in the wedding or how she thought he would be better off spending time with his brother, David, or even the mayor at that moment. No, they talked of Star Wars and his opinion of the latest additions to the franchise, her obsession with Outlander, and his not so secret following of soccer. He was about to tell her about his goal to buy season tickets when David approached them with a rueful and almost embarrassed expression on his face.

"Sorry we've been away, mate, but it sounds as though the party has been successful. I believe I heard limbo music playing earlier?" Killian folded his arms over his chest and craned his neck back to look up at his boss and friend. "How low did you go?"

David ignored the compliments to his social graces and knelt down next to Henry, speaking softly to the boy before turning to Emma. "So I know I'm supposed to drive you two home while Mary Margaret takes Regina and Zelena back into town. But here's the thing. The road to the farm is pretty bumpy and I'm not sure that's the best for Henry's stomach issues."

Killian seemed bemused as David twisted his face into a dreadful expression. "You worried the lad will spew the candy all over your truck?" Killian asked as Emma let her chin drop.

David squinted his eyes. "Well, I'm worried that it will just make the situation worse. He's already green. Maybe it would be better to get a room for him at Granny's? She's probably closer and the roads…"

Emma rolled her eyes, returning her hand to pat Henry's back as the boy made another groaning noise. He'd been better earlier when they discussed Star Wars. She had not missed that. "And you're worried about your truck, right?"

"Emma, I'm not…"

"Don't worry, mate," Killian said, throwing a napkin into the now empty nacho container. "I'll get them to safety. You get your precious truck home and I'll see to it that these two have a safe place to stay tonight."

David didn't wait to be told twice, hurrying out the door with most of the other party goers as Killian helped Emma steer Henry to his car. Henry sort of collapsed in the backseat, tucking his knees against him when Killian threw his jacket over him to use as a blanket during the ride. It was a bit unnecessary given that Henry was bundled up in his parka.

"Aren't you cold? And aren't you worried about the interior of your car?" Emma asked, as Killian cranked up the heat and waited for the light layer of frost on his windshield to melt. "I mean…"

"Like I said, Swan, if I was a conspiracy believing man, I'd assume they set all this up. Never underestimate Mary Margaret's ability to take advantage of a situation." He rubbed his hand against his jeans as the car's heater warmed the space quickly and he threw it into reverse.

Emma didn't ask if he honestly thought that her dearest friends might have been at the heart of the matter or even provided Henry with the overabundance of candy. That seemed cruel on their part and totally out of character. But she was beginning to agree to his thinking that it was awfully coincidental she was left abandoned and stranded right in front of the man they were trying to set her up with daily.

"This isn't Granny's," Emma said when he pulled into the parking lot of the apartments where he lived. Even in the low light of the car she could see the color rise on his cheeks as he leaned forward as if checking the stars for navigational directions.

"Granny is still at David's and Ruby seemed a bit inebriated. I assumed this might be a simpler solution." He held his right hand up, splaying the fingers wide. "I assure you I mean no malintent. I only thought you might be more comfortable…"

"In your bed?" Emma asked, skeptically. She was aware that he hadn't cut the engine to the car yet and her son was snoring in the backseat. "Sorry, habit. I always assume the worst."

He smiled, still staring up at the stars. "Do you see a lot of them? In Boston?"

"You're going to have to be more specific there, Killian."

"Stars? Since I first started learning to sail and probably even before, I always lived where I could see stars. I kind of think I'd be lost if I didn't see them." He fell back against the bucket seat and gave her a quick but sincere smile. "Dumb reason to want to stay here, I suppose."

A psychologist could have a field day with his little speech, but Emma wasn't a psychologist. Her hand was on the door handle and her eyes were narrow as she tried to look at his features in the dark. "I don't think it's a dumb reason."

Killian nodded, looking over his shoulder. "Your boy's asleep. Perhaps I could carry him? Might be easier that way."

She shook her head. "No, he's 10. He's too heavy for you. I mean you just have…" She stopped. She didn't want to bring up the hand, not knowing how sensitive he might be to her doubts. It didn't seem to bother him though, as he was already out of the car and pulling her son up as if he weighed nothing. They were already to the bottom step on their way up to his apartment by the time she had gotten out of the car.

She caught up to them when he was on the landing and without question reached into his front pocket to grab his keys. His eyebrows shot up ridiculously high at her intimate move, but he simply said yes when she asked if the door in front of them was his.

Henry was somewhat awake when Killian deposited him on the most neatly made bed she had ever seen. He half smiled at Killian who said with a smile of his own, "it's captain's quarters for you tonight, lad."

"Seriously," Emma asked, following Killian into the living room where he was pulling a beer bottle out of the refrigerator and then a second one that he dangled from his fingers as he motioned toward the comfortably overstuffed cushions of the couch. "You are giving up your bed for a 10 year old who ate too much candy?"

"He's closer to the bathroom in there and he'll sleep better on a bed than a sofa. I spend most nights dozing here with the telly on or a good book in my hand. So it makes no difference to me. Chloe and I can sleep any old place."

She was still standing to the right of the television, not wanting to retreat to the bedroom or join him on the couch. "Who is Chloe?"

"My cat," he said as if she should have already known that fact about him. On cue the cat bounded into the room, all white and fluffy with a single gray paw. She looked disdainfully at Emma before springing onto Killian's lap, then a pillow, and then over the back of the couch toward Liam's partially closed door. Without hesitation the cat butted her head against the door just enough to enter the darkened room.

"That's like seriously domestic," Emma said, taking the five steps to sit next to him on the couch with a large pillow between them. She reached over and grabbed one of the beers, taking a long sip before she studied him again. "Are you sure that's your brother and not like a love child you've been raising all these years?"

"Liam's 20," Killian chuckled. "I'm only 32. That would have been one hell of a childhood romance, love."

"Just checking." She looked around the living room and the lack of truly personal sort of decor that would have told her more about him. There were only a few photographs, no diplomas, awards, or souvenirs from vacations. Normally you could tell a lot about a man from his home, but Killian's seemed void of anything that might give her a clue. She wasn't sure she wanted to explore or even accept that part of her that wanted to know more about him.

"Looking for something?"

Her mouth turned downwards at the very thought of telling him she was curious. She decided to go with the more practical question. "So if Henry is sleeping in your bed...where am I sleeping? And you?"

"Well, I'm afraid I'm not wealthy enough for a third bedroom, love. But as I said, the couch is quite comfortable. Or the bed is large enough if you would like to be closer to your boy? I could find a spot on the floor with a blanket I suppose. And to be honest that chair is not the worst. I'm not all that accustomed to having multiple guests. While there is a bed in Liam's room, it's the one in this flat that probably isn't up to the standards of cleanliness I prefer. And he'll probably be back before dawn. So…"

"I'm not pushing you out of your bed and off your couch," Emma declared. She dragged the long sleeves of her sweater over her hands, using them as gloves as she curled around the bottle of beer.

"Then what do you propose, Emma?"

"I'll sleep in the bed with Henry or the chair. I'm used to sleeping in odd places." She took a long sip and closed her eyes. "I'm going to kill them by the way. I probably shouldn't admit that to a cop, but I'm willing to do the time."

He smiled, rubbing his fingers together in the direction of his cat as she entered the room again, this time eyeing Emma carefully as she strutted the long way around the couch toward Killian. Arching her back upward, she sought his fingers and the soothing tone of his voice. "Emma, there's no need for you to be uncomfortable."

"I could say the same for you." With her left hand, she yanked clumsily at her boots until they were in a pile next to her on a blue and gray rug. "Thank you. I should have said that before, but…"

"I take it that you prefer not being rescued?" he asked. "For what it is worth, I do not get the damsel in distress vibe from you at all."

Emma rolled her neck back, letting the cushion cradle around her head. "It's more about not wanting to be a burden. But yeah, I'm capable of rescuing myself."

"Never thought you weren't." He toed off his own boots, leaving them next to hers, closing his eyes for a moment as Chloe circled around him, under his legs and then retreated to the kitchen upon the discovery he had no food for her. "You seem to have everything under control, despite the molly coddling of a certain teacher we both know and love."

"Motherhood does that to you," she said, brushing off his compliment. "I have a kid in there right now who eats way too much candy, would watch Netflix or play video games until his eyes fell out, or would have cereal drenched in chocolate milk if he could. Someone has to be the adult in the situation."

"Aye, I know the feeling sometimes. My brother has a tendency to jump head first into the shallow end a few too many times. I have found myself actually using the phrase, 'not under my roof.' It's quite disconcerting."

Emma smiled, the bottle still in her hand and her knuckles nearly white from her tight grip. "Confession. I once found myself watching Caliou when Henry was in preschool. He'd been napping for a good 90 minutes, but I was sitting there watching it like it was the latest Oscar nominated movie. I even let a call I needed for work go to voicemail so I could find out what happened next. It was not my finest moment."

His thick brows shot up in what she hoped was comisserative compassion. It was more like wonder. "I don't think I've heard of this Caliou," he said, pronouncing it carefully. "I take it that the show was directed toward children."

The bottle back at her lips, she nodded. "Oh yeah. It's a horrible, awful show, about this bald little boy with the most annoying voice ever." Her face scrunched up at the memory. "I'm really embarrassed that I told you that."

"I'll never reveal your secret, Swan." He leaned forward in his seat, looked to the left and right as if someone might be listening in on them, and then pulled his phone out of his pocket. Scrolling a few screens, he handed it over to her. "My playlist."

She didn't remove the phone from his hand, cupping her hand under his instead. "ABBA? Please tell me you don't sing Dancing Queen in your squad car?"

He chuckled. "Only upon request from Dave, but no. Nobody knows about that particular guilty pleasure, love."

"Nobody, but me," she corrected, humming a few bars of Mama Mia.

"Aye, but I have dirt on you and your viewing habits. I would use this information very carefully. And I would also note that you not only named one of their songs but were humming another. One might believe you were a fan yourself."

"So we both have questionable tastes and maturity levels when it comes to entertainment." She shimmed her shoulders and exhaled dramatically, a clear sign she was about to make another confession. Killian set aside his beer and appeared to be on the edge of his seat for this announcement. "I'm kind of pissed that I missed out on the other fun stuff tonight. I'm a fan of go karts."

"Are you now?" he asked, right eyebrow going nearly as high as the dark fringe of his hair falling onto his forehead. "And I take it you do know how to play video games too?"

"Of course," she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. "I have a 10 year old with an obsession. Some nights I wouldn't get any answers from him about school at all if I didn't play. I'm good, by the way. I could totally kick your butt."

"Even if the game was driving?" he teased, stalking over to the television and pulling open a door to reveal a Wii console and controllers. "Old school, Mario Kart?"

She downed the rest of the liquid in her bottle and threw her arm out, palms up. "Hand it over, buddy. I will leave you in the dust."

She was good. So was he. It was a good match up, even if she did totally miss a turn because she was looking at his excited expression. He wasn't planning to let her win, as she would not appreciate the gesture and would want a fair fight. And for a few minutes it looked like she might lose. Then she whipped around him with one of her tools, leaving his own vehicle spinning in place as she crossed the finish line. The resulting victory dance was far more entertaining than he had hoped.

He leapt to his feet and joined with her, spinning her wildly and back into his arms again. She was a bit breathless and her free hand was fisted against his chest as she looked up at him with her lips parted and her long hair tickling his arm that was locked at her waist.

"Emma," he said softly, moving his own face closer to hers. The movement was slow and deliberate, giving her time to pull away. She didn't.

She did the opposite, rising up on the balls of her feet and meeting him halfway as their lips touched. Those first moments were tentative and soft before one of them, which one she wasn't sure, pressed a bit harder. The tip of his tongue traced over the seam of her mouth. The kiss was far from a field of flowers or under a starlit sky, but it was sweet, warm, and just a bit hungry as her hand crept up from his chest and her fingers splayed under is jaw. His hand was still holding hers, fingers knitted together and palms touching.

She was sighing into him, feeling for all the world like she was swaying or losing any grip on gravity that she might have when he pulled back. She would have denied it, but her mouth chased his for a second until her eyes fluttered open to see the concern in his.

"The door," he said softly, his tongue darting out to run along his own lips. "My brother...I hear his key."

"Oh," she said with growing realization. "Oh, I get it."

He squeezed her hand before letting go and flopping backwards onto the couch. "What would you say to a rematch, love? Or have I tired you out yet?"

Her hand fluttered up to her mouth and back down again as soon as the door opened and the young Liam stumbled int through it with an apology already echoing. "A rematch would be good."