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Emma padded downstairs barefoot and in Mary Margaret's pajamas the next day, feeling more rested than she had in months.

"Well Good Morning Emma!" Mary Margaret chirped from the kitchen, and Emma smiled at her as she shuffled into the kitchen. "How did you sleep?" she asked, fiddling with a kettle on the stove and pouring hot milk into two cups.

Emma rolled her shoulders and tied her hair up into a messy topknot, as she took a seat at the kitchen island. "I haven't slept that well in…well in a very long time."

"Good," Mary Margaret beamed at her, and placed a cup of cocoa in front of her. "I took a guess that you might be a cocoa girl. Am I right?" she asked, with raised eyebrows. Emma closed her eyes as she took a sip, and sighed deeply as the warm liquid woke her down to the tips of her toes.

"You are so right," she sighed, taking another sip, "This is amazing."

Mary Margaret winked at her. "My secret is cinnamon," she whispered, and headed to the couch, where Emma's clothing from the night before was neatly folded. She carried them over to the counter and plopped them down. Emma stuttered into her hot cocoa, "Mary Margaret you did not have to do that!"

"Nonsense. It's nice to have someone to take care of a little," she patted Emma's back as she went back to her spot at the stove, fussing over a pan on a burner. "David thinks I fuss too much, so it's nice to have someone new to annoy." Emma pivoted on her barstool to face Mary Margaret, and clutching both hands around her cocoa, she took a better look at the apartment. It was very shabby chic, and 100% Mary Margaret.

"I like your apartment," Emma said, smiling at her new roommate, and Mary Margaret beamed back, placing a plate of eggs in front of her. "Thank you," she replied genuinely, and took a seat next to her at the island. "I think it fits me," she said, taking a minute to glance around. "Definitely," Emma agreed, before diving into the plate in front of her.


"Good Morning Swan!" Killian raised his eyebrows as he greeted her. Seemed a shower and a soft bed had done her wonders. The circles under her eyes were still there, but they had softened. Her hair was blown out, and formed soft ringlets around her face. She sported another pair of jeans than the ones she had been wearing before, and a soft flannel shirt that hugged her curves just right. Worn brown boots completed the outfit, a slight bit different than the worn out tennis shoes she had been wearing the previous day. There was a pep in her step that wasn't there before.

"Well, don't you clean up nicely, " Killian grinned at her, leaning back in his office chair. She rolled her eyes at him, and plucked her apron from the back of the door.

"Too bad it won't last even an hour in here," she countered, tying the apron around her back, but grinning slyly at him from underneath her lashes. Slipping back out front, Killian shook his head at her. What a change already in her demeanor overnight.

"Killian," Emma popped her head back in the office quickly, "Good Morning to you too."

Feeling a smile wash over his face, he turned back to the computer as he heard Emma start on the morning tasks of opening the shop. "Yes, I believe it will be."

After getting the store set up for the day, and after Killian had finished his wholesale orders and office work, it was time for Emma's first fish cutting lesson. The duo stood next to the industrial sink, a large cutting board on each side, and a flounder in front of each of them.

"Ok Emma, this isn't the easiest fish to learn on, but we have some excess, and I know for a fact that Granny will look the other way if some of the fillets we sell her are a little rough around the edges," Killian explained to her, and Emma bit her bottom lip, looking hesitant, fillet knife in hand.

"Ok lass, watch me first. It's not that hard," he reassured her, before talking her through the basic cuts of the filleting process. Killian's experienced hands and years of practice made it look easy, and in just a few minutes, the flounder was neatly filleted, and placed in the fish display case.

Emma frowned as she stabbed at the fish in front of her, jerkily handling the blade, and accidently slicing through the back of the fish. "Shit," she mumbled, and sheepishly looked up at Killian.

"I said she'd take rough around the edges Swan, not cut through the middle," he joked with her, and Emma stomped her foot on the ground. "Damn it Killian, I don't have the slightest clue at all what I am doing."

"Easy easy, that was a joke. Here, let me help," he started, and came around behind her, placing his hand over hers on the blade. Killian could feel her tense immediately, and he took pause. "Relax Emma, I'm not trying to be fresh, I am trying to teach you to cut this fish. Take a deep breath and relax, and your blade will glide through better. Rule number one: trust in your blade." He placed his left hand on hers on the fish, and positioned it out of the way of the blade, and with his right hand grasping hers, he slid the blade expertly down the back bone of the fish.

"Feel the way it bumps along the ribs? That pop pop pop? That's what you want to feel as you cut through," Killian explained softly, before removing himself from behind her. He could see her visually relax, and let out a shaky breath before looking over her shoulder at him. "You couldn't have just told me that?"

"Aye, I could have, but it's better to show than tell," Killian winked at her, before turning to the customer that was announced by the old fashioned bell above the door. "Mr. Hopper! How are you today?" Killian moved away from her, and Emma took another shaky breath. What the hell was that?

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she went back to the task at hand. By the time Killian had finished with his customer, Emma had finished the other side of the fish, and produced a somewhat useable fillet. She held it up for Killian's inspection. "Not bad love, not bad at all," he smiled at her.

Emma did a little clap and hit her fist lightly on the cutting board. "Hot damn," she exclaimed, before grabbing the next fish in the pile and going at it again, "Ok… I've got this." Killian beamed at her concentrated face as she slid the knife in with more confidence, and drug it slowly along, producing shaky fillet after fillet. Granny would have to be sweet talked a little to take this batch, but he could usually butter her up with a few eyes bats, and a generous discount.

And that's how the afternoon continued, customers coming in and Killian helping them, letting Emma stay at the cutting board and focus on the task at hand. He noticed after a while her concentration set in, and she stopped looking over her shoulder at the door every time it opened, and her cuts became near perfect. It was also nearing 5 o'clock, and the supply of whole flounder was dwindling.

Killian placed a hand gently on her back to draw her from her concentrated cutting, as a few tries of "Swan" had failed. Emma jumped at the touch and then yelped as the blade she was holding slipped from her grasp, slicing her palm open.

"Damn it," they both muttered at the same time, and Killian grabbed her palm, switching on the faucet and running the cut under the cold water. "Flush that out and stay here, I'll be right back," he commanded before rushing back to the office. Emma winced as the cold water hit the open wound. She had to stop being so jumpy…especially if her new job consisted of holding sharp objects.

Killian came back with a first aid kit and a clean, dry towel. Gently pulling her hand from under the water, and switching off the hose, he patted dry her hand. "Lemme take a look at it," he urged, and Emma made a noise of protest.

"It's not that bad," she started as she began to pull back her hand, and Killian looped his fingers around her wrist and put it back on the towel.

Making eye contact with her he smiled softly, "Humor me Swan." Knitting his brows in concentration, he cleaned the wound, which was deep, but according to Killian, would require neither stitches nor amputation. Wrapping a strip of gauze around her hand, and tying it with a neat bow, he couldn't help but place a chaste kiss on top of the bow and mummer "All better."

Emma pulled her arm out of his grasp and smiled meekly, "Thanks. Um, I guess we should clean up here…"

"Nonsense Swan, you are injured and I shall not have you bleeding on all of my perfectly cut fillets. Go home."

"But," Emma started and Killian sat his face in playful determination, "Go Swan! I won't have it!"

Emma huffed and went in the back to grab her small bag, and headed for the door, scowling.

"Oh Emma?" Killian stopped her as she went to leave the shop, "Make sure to wear comfortable clothes and bring a jacket tomorrow."

"What?" she asked, hand on the door, brow furrowed in confusion.

He smiled at her, then looked back to the cleaning task at hand, informing her casually, "Tomorrow the shop is closed. It's delivery day."

Emma stood at the door, confused look still on her face. Killian looked up from the fillet case, as he flicked it's light off.

"Get ready for a road trip love."