I feel terrible! Sometime after posting the first chapter of this I stopped getting notifications from the website saying if there were any followers or reviews. I didn't think much of it, figuring not every CS story is every readers cup of tea and maybe I'd get more of a following once Emma and Killian were together. Except, today I realized gmail had somehow classified all of my emails from as junk mail so I wasn't getting them.

I have readers! :) And reviews! And I feel simply terrible for not commenting back until now.

Just some random story notes: I set a personal goal to try to reach 3,000 words per chapter, so this isn't going to follow my usual short chapter style. This is definitely a slow burn kind of relationship. I've written through chapter 7 and they still aren't dating. (Emma is stubborn, what can I say.) There's not a lot I've taken from the show so I've debated on changing the character names and trying to actually publish this once the whole story is complete. (I might start looking for a beta soon) I'm estimating 20 chapters, but I don't even know how this is going to end yet, so that's definitely subject to change.

Final note, the story will have weekly updates, posted on Tuesdays. Bonus chapter tonight because I feel badly for not responding to anyone earlier!


Chapter Four: Killian

Lying in bed later that night he could not stop the visions of Emma, golden blonde hair and flashing green eyes, from running through his mind. He recalled the events of the morning. At her repeatedly rejection of his offers to make Brinkley's faux paux up to her, he had nearly accepted defeat that he wouldn't get to learn more about the intriguing woman.

He did not anticipate her to finally relent and give in to a peace offering in the form of hot chocolate, but the rest of the time spent with her had proved just as unexpected. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he felt this connection with her, something drawing them together. He was shocked at how easily the crepe shop owner had conspired with him, convincing Emma that she needed a crepe to go along with her drink.

Her reaction to the banana stuffed confection bordered on erotic, the visual of her eyes closed and her tongue catching the drip of cinnamon sauce led his mind in a very un-gentlemanly direction, something else that he had not experienced in quite some time.

Killian knew he was attractive, he had heard it from tons of women throughout the years, but as he got older, the appeal of women throwing themselves at him became less and less of an ego boost and more of an uncomfortable annoyance. He had used his looks and charming personality for all they were worth in his early twenties, rarely finding himself alone in bed. It had continued when he and Liam first moved stateside, his accent adding to his appeal. More than once he'd received a request to read something as mundane as a telephone book.

But Liam's death had been a turning point, leaving Killian completely alone in this world and the idea of spending his nights with random women only interested in his accent and bedroom skills left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

Killian was pleased to meet Emma's friend, Ruby-err, Rachelle, as she hadn't told him he could call her by her nickname yet, instantly liking the other woman for her no-nonsense personality but was jealous her visit was to inform Emma of picking up another shift, causing her to practically run from their table as soon as Rachelle had exited the crepe shop.

In the short amount of time they had spent together, Emma had reminded him what it was like to feel again. Since Liam's death, nearly every emotion other than anger and sadness felt as though it were coming to him in a fog, muted and faint. With her it was different. He fully felt the disappointment in her denial to allow him to make it up to her, sheer delight when she finally agreed and amusement at her dislike of tourists and the way she interacted with the shop owner and her friend. She had been nearly out the door when he called out to her hastily, opting to just tell the truth that he wanted to see her again since he didn't know anyone else in the town.

He expected her to say no and somehow manage to avoid him for the rest of his time here, but the corners of her lips had turned upward and she suggested he find her, preferring that their next meeting be not like their first. For the first time in a long time, Killian Jones felt hopeful again.

Finishing off his crepe, he started to wonder just how he was going to go about finding her again, despite it being a small town when Betsy had slid into the chair Emma had recently vacated.

Her gray-green eyes scanned his face. Killian didn't know what she was looking for and had found himself unconsciously holding his breath but maintaining eye contact. Finally she nodded slightly and Killian got the impression he had passed some test. "Like I said, she's a prickly one. Walls as high as they sky too. She doesn't trust easily. Had a bad childhood, I don't really know the details but she says she has no family." Killian's eyebrow raised of its own accord in surprise that he shared that with Emma. "What?" She stopped, waiting for him to explain.

"Simply surprised is all. It appears Miss Swan and I both have the lack of family in common." He answered.

"I'm sorry." She started but he waved his hand, indicating he was willing to broach the topic.

"Thank you. I lost my brother last year. I found it too difficult to stay in that town anymore, which is how I ended up here." He found himself sharing with the older woman.

"And your parents? Tell me to mind my own business if you don't want to share." She asked with a sheepish smile.

Killian returned the smile. "Mum died before I was a teenager. My brother raised me. My father was never around. I assume he's dead as well." When he stated it like that, simple facts with no emotions behind them it was easier to explain.

Betsy nodded. "Perhaps that is why I'm telling you all this. I'm not some old lady who spends her afternoons gossiping around town. Never cared much for the subject, to be honest. When I saw you two standing together, something just told me that you'd be good for each other. I want to see Emma happy. I've told her as much myself but she doesn't listen to this old woman's words. She's quite stubborn."

Killian laughed. "I'd have to agree, considering she turned me down for dinner, lunch and coffee before finally taking pity on me and letting me know she drank hot chocolate."

Betsy grinned. "Now, that definitely sounds like Emma. I'm assuming you wouldn't be against any advice as to how to find her again?" She paused and Killian nodded. "She comes in here on Wednesday mornings around eight. A couple of nights a week she waitresses or bartenders over there," the woman gestured out the window towards a restaurant at the end of the boardwalk, facing the ocean. "at Coconut's. Her schedule varies though. She's got a day job but it'd be too convenient for you to show up there so I'll keep that one to myself."

Killian beamed at her. "My lips are sealed with your secrets within. Coconut's is a popular place, I take it? The couple I'm renting a condo from highly recommended it and asked me to say hello to the owner for them."

"Oh yes! It's probably the most popular restaurant in the area. Little fancier than some, they got a guy who plays piano every night but the food is delicious. And David, such a good boy. His parents left the restaurant to him and he's done nothing but improve it. I've known him since he was a child. Say...are you renting from Beverly?"

Killian nodded, realizing just how small this small town was. "I am."

Betsy's face lit up. "I've known Beverly and Bill for years too. Beverly and I went to school together, we had every class together from first grade right on up through senior year. Bill was an upperclassman, she met him our junior year and they were married two years after our graduation. Great kids they've got too, but they don't care for it here. Wanted to get away to the big cities where everything is available in an instant. They mentioned you actually, not by name, but said that they were going to rent out the condo this year and see if they should stay in Florida full-time. I'm not a fan of course, there aren't many friends I still have around or even living, so I'd love for them to come back. Not that I don't want you to be here…" She took in a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I'm probably overwhelming you with the musings of an old woman who just doesn't know when to shut up."

"Not the case at all." He assured her. "I'm quite interested in learning about this quaint little town you call your home."

She studied his face again. "If you're interested in some town history, I should make you another cup of coffee."

He smiled, handing back the oversized mug to the woman. It was true, he was curious to know about the town; he had always found history an interesting subject.

She returned with two mugs in her hand, a refill of coffee for him and what he believed to be peppermint tea for herself. Easing down into the chair across from him, she began. "The beginnings of the town can trace back to 1901 and it was always the intent for this to be the quieter town. Not all that shocking since it was church folk that started it. There were a bunch of issues at first, funding and whatnot so it took a long time before there was anything more than just a couple houses for the families to stay. Just the founders families were here for the longest time, we never got the railroad we were promised and back then it wasn't easily traveling up and around the mouth of the Bay to get down here. My family isn't part of the originals but we came not long after, in the mid-twenties. My parents were neighbors with a founding family and came down with the from Pennsylvania one summer. By the next year my daddy had built a house and he and mama lived here full time. Back in those days, it was real secluded. Route 1, the main highway you came in on, that was nothing but a dirt road back then."

She paused, taking a sip of her tea. "They finally got around to building the Chesapeake Bay Bridge in the fifties and that's when it started to get a little busier 'round here. I was just a child when the big nor'easter hit in sixty-two, but I'll never forget the damage. Sand come inland for miles. Houses on the beach just gone. Flooding for miles. We were lucky, my daddy said he loved living near the beach but never wanted to live on it. Our house was pretty far inland and didn't get too much damage. Lotsa people left after that, didn't want to deal with the risk of the storms. But we rebuilt. Houses had to go up on stilts like they do down in the Carolinas. You see that totem pole looking thing when you came in?"

"I did, I was wondering about that." Killian replied.

"That thing brought some sparks with it. Man named Toth built it. It ain't even a totem pole but a sculpture. Some townsfolk didn't want it here, since we never had any proof of the Native Americans being here, but Toth persisted and there it stands. You ever live on the coast before?"

"I have. In Ireland and then here. My brother and I had settled in a seaside town in Connecticut."

"Storms ain't quite so bad up there in the Northeast. They can get real ugly down here sometimes and we've had our share of them throughout the years. Boardwalk has taken a real beating more than a few times and some store owners just didn't want to deal with the hassle of insurance. Necessary evil, I call it. You could never get me away from the ocean. Living here all your life, it just gets in your blood you know?"

Kilian nodded. He understood. He spent the next hour or so talking to the crepe shop owner about how much he enjoyed the water too, how he found comfort and solace in it. A few customers had strolled in during the late morning hours and Killian bid her a goodbye, not wanting to take any more of her time up when she had customers to feed.

Absently running his fingers through the fur of the canine who was to his left, Killian wondered how long he should wait before trying to seek out Emma again. With the information Betsy had provided, he knew it was better to wait than to see her right away. It wasn't worth the risk of coming on too strong and pushing her away.

With thoughts of Emma on his mind he allowed himself to slowly drift off to sleep.

-\-

It did not take long before Killian was ready to find work and see what the town had to offer. Beverly and Bill had warned him it was tiny and that if he was in search of nightlife he'd need to drive to one of the coastal towns surrounding this one.

When he and Liam had first come to the states from Ireland, Killian had found himself playing guitar and singing at open mic nights of the various bars nearby. Eventually he was offered part time gigs and while it wasn't enough to provide for a lavish lifestyle, it helped keep a roof over their heads and food in their bellies.

While he didn't really need to work now, the money from Liam's life insurance and the sale of the bookstore were more than enough to live a decent life on, Killian knew he was better off finding work to keep him occupied, not wanting to chance slipping back into that time where a bottle of rum was his best companion. Sometime during the many conversations he had with the condo owners prior to renting, his musical abilities had come up and Beverly immediately put him in contact with the a woman named Rita at the Chamber of Commerce, telling him they had the town's small boardwalk had a bandstand and there were performers on the weekends and major holidays.

He called Rita, inquiring about any openings and once she found out he was renting the condo from Beverly Miller, she told him he had at least one spot in the Summer Concert Series without even hearing him play. Killian argued to at least prove himself competent and Rita finally relented, scheduling for him to come in later that afternoon.

He barely got through performing the first song before Rita was waving at him to stop, her other hand furiously scrolling with the mouse of her computer. "Can I be straight with you, Killian?" Rita asked.

He nodded, wondering what the pixie sized woman with mocha eyes was going to tell him. "I'd prefer it."

"I was right to add you without even hearing you play. With those blue eyes and that accent, honey, you don't even need to be able to carry a tune. You're going to draw in a crowd with your looks alone." Rita said, appraising him.

He felt himself flush under the older woman's eyes. Unconsciously his hand found its way to the back of his ear, fingers scratching nervously. "Er, uh…"

Rita snorted. "Honey, don't go thinking I'm hitting on you, I'm old enough to be your mother. I'm just saying, you're quite the looker and it's just a real good bonus for us that you can sing and play guitar too. I'm gonna put you on the schedule for two Friday evenings, one in June and one in July. I know it ain't much, but we can also put you on standby in case another performer needs to cancel. And here's a list of bars that have open mic nights or are looking for musicians. You play any other instruments?" She said, pushing a sheet of paper across her cluttered desk toward him.

Killian nodded. "I can play the piano and I'm decent on the drums."

The woman nodded, scribbling that down onto an orange sticky note before pulling open a desk drawer and removing a packet of papers. She circled two dates on the top page and handed it to him. "First page is the calendar. Your nights are highlighted. I'll mail you a copy with your name listed on it once we get everything finalized. Next page is parking information and a list of contacts as well. Leroy sets up the speakers and mics and whatnot but if you want to bring your own stuff you can do that too. You just gotta call him first." She paused, taking a sip from the mug on her desk.

"Then we got the rules. Can't have songs with too much profanity or that are too sexual. We pride ourselves on being the family resort, ya understand? No alcohol on the bandstand, no drinking before either. Well, a shot or something to calm your nerves is alright if you've got bitten by the stage fright bug, but not where anyone can see. Tips are optional. You can't be sitting up there begging for your guitar case to be filled, but we don't prohibit our visitors from tipping the performers if they see it fit. Fill out that last page, it's all the contact info we need from you. Got all that, honey?"

Killian flipped through the packet for a moment before looking back up at Rita. "Yes. Do you need me to fill this out now or..?"

"Whatever is easier for you, honey. Our address is down at the bottom of the last page if you wanna mail your paperwork back in, or just drop by during the week between 9 and 4 and see me. Or ask Marsha out front to leave it on my desk if I'm not here. Just need it from you no later than May 15th." Rita replied.

Killian stood, extending his arm to the woman. "Thanks for your time. I appreciate this. I'll get this paperwork back to you shortly."

"Lookin' forward to it." The woman replied with a smile, shaking his hand. "See you next week, honey. And you come in and let me know if there's anything you need to get situated in town. I've been here my whole life."

Killian nodded. "Perhaps I will. Thank you for the offer."

Arriving back at his truck, Killian sat inside for a moment, allowing all of the information the woman had thrown at him to process in his head. The list of other bars and restaurants offering open mic nights was at the top and he found his eyes glazing over the list of names. Only two restaurants in town offered it, one being Coconut's and the other not too far away. Most of the locations were in Dewey, reminding Killian that Bill had told him it was the closest town for the younger crowd, wanting to let loose in the bars. The list was extensive, ranging as far north as Rehoboth and as far south as Ocean City, Maryland. Killian realized he could find more than enough places to play, possibly eliminating the need to find a more steady job during the season.

During the next few days, he visited some of the bars and restaurants on the list Rita had provided him, finding himself added into their schedule quite easily. He hadn't wrote his own music in ages, finding it easier to please the crowds when he covered well-known songs instead, but found himself jotting down lyrics from time to time.