A/N: Thank you so very much for all of the nice reviews. I could tell people were reading, or at least opening the story but I had no idea about their thoughts were. I wasn't sure if I was going to have Will start to notice in the last chapter nor not but as I was writing it it seemed like it would have been impossible for him not to. My updates may be slightly more sporadic. I have a couple classes with rather heavy reading-oriented homework loads.

Will's POV

His neck was killing him. It felt like he had slept with his head at a severe 90 degree angle as he blinked trying to clear the sleep from his eyes and figure out where he was. This definitely wasn't his couch it way to comfortable and it had flowers. Definitely not his couch. Terri had taken most of his furniture and almost everything he owned now had come from local garage sales but none of it had flowers. He did have to maintain some sort of standard.

Emma's. I'm still at Emma's. I must have fallen asleep at some point. Did we sleep the whole night on the couch? Did we sleep the whole night on the couch together?

The events of last night began to bubble to the surface and even as tired as he was he found the energy to smile. He had sung to her, they had kissed, she had tasted amazing. He had felt her ribs. He had been able to count her ribs. Will leisurely stood up stretching experimentally to ascertain just how painful the day was going to be. Yep. The kids were definitely doing the dancing today the mere thought of partaking in any of the choreography making him cringe.

Noticing a faint glow spilling into the hallway he gradually began to make his way over. It wasn't like he was trying to spy on her. Well, maybe he was. An earlier glance at the clock had told him he wouldn't have time to run back to his apartment before school started. Glancing down Will took in his decidedly not teacherly ensemble. What he was wearing now was a far cry from slacks and a button down beneath a sweater vest. The extra set of clothes he had placed in his office in case he became the next victim of a slushie attack was now proving to have been a very good idea.

Will crept down the hallway whispering a tiny thanks for when the floor didn't creak beneath him. He could see the pattern of light being disrupted occasionally. She was definitely in there. As quietly as he could Will settled himself out of view of her view and in view of the door his body poised for action in case she started to walk out or worse was actually using the bathroom. Emma wouldn't go to the bathroom with the door open. He doubted she would do that even if she was the only one here.

He could see her knees as she knelt in front of a cupboard. I can see her knees. Is she naked? What in the world is she doing sitting naked on the floor. That has to be cold. He watched her tiny arm reach out cautiously toward the ground-level door before her. It was on the left, the closest to the door. Not that he was snooping of course. Her hand was shaking slightly and lingered in midair as if she had initiated the action before she had actually thought it through. Will frowned, that wasn't like Emma. Her planned to the letter routines were integral to the completion of her day. She never did anything on the spur of the moment. Except go to Vegas and marry Carl. Okay, time for a cognitive shift. Even though Carl had been nothing but wonderful to Emma Will still hated the guy's guts and he really didn't care that his reasons were skewed. Emma belonged with him, not a dentist.

Apparently Emma couldn't follow through with what her intention snatching her hand away like it had been burned. Before he really ponder the matter she started to get up.

It was beyond difficult to make a hasty retreat when you where trying to not make any noise. It was especially difficult crashed into an end table that seemed to jump out of nowhere. Actually, Will noticed the end table seemed to actually be in the middle of nowhere. It was an end table, why the heck wasn't it at the end of something? Will bit his lip to hold off a hiss of pain. That was going to leave a bruise. Frantically he searched for a reason to have been stumbling around in the dark. He couldn't go back to the couch because Emma would have obviously heard his losing battle with a piece of furniture. I need to just accept that all traces of dignity are forever to be non-existent around her.

As he attempted to steady his breathing he listened acutely for clues as to what Emma was doing closing his eyes when he heard the bathroom door gently click closed. Groping along the wall for a light switch on his way to the kitchen with one hand outstretched before him in case anymore not illogically placed inanimate objects had it out for him he shuffled in the direction of the kitchen. His fingers connected with a switch that he hoped was the kitchen light. It had to be the kitchen light. He was a guy and as such possessed an innate sense of direction. Will struggled to hold his eyes open in the room was illuminated.

Well, he knew where the laundry room was now.

Retracing his path his fingers located another switch and with a silent prayer he flipped it on. Light flooded the space around him and he almost chuckled at the sheer Emma-ness that enveloped him. The walls were a light yellow, the counters a light pastel blue. It was bright and cheery and unique just like her. The black thing on the counter certainly stood out. His eyes were finally beginning to focus and as he walked towards it he realized it was a small coffee maker. Having bought hera rather expensive tea kettle last Christmas after she had walked in to the lunchroom more than upset that she had dropped hers he knew she only made tea on the stove. The microwave was hands-down the most useful invention ever. He would never have the patience to make tea on the stove. Unless it was for her.

Since he was up, and he definitely still needed to clear his head he began searching cupboards for a can of coffee. There had to be a can of coffee somewhere. He quickened his pace when he soon realized that there were far too many choices and he seemed to perpetually making the wrong one. It didn't escape his notice that there was a surprising lack of food. No cans of vegetables or soup, no cooking ingredients, not even crackers but there were more kinds of tea than he knew existed stacked neatly on top of one another each one with the title facing forward. He was down to the last cupboard. Grabbing onto the small knob his eyes widened when he looked inside. Well, he had found the coffee and the first food item he had yet to run across. Sitting just beneath the Foldger's can were two cans of generic oatmeal. Oatmeal? His mind flashed back to all of their lunches together over the course the weeks. Now that he really thought about it that was all she had ever brought to school. He had been so wrapped up in just being in the room with her,fumbling for conversation topics so he wouldn't just sit there and stare like a lovesick puppy that he hadn't really paid attention to her lunch. That was stupid. I should have noticed that. Maybe she just needs to go grocery shopping I know when I'm not feeling well I run pretty low in the food department. The title wasn't facing forward, this time he staring at nutrition facts. 140 calories, why is my mind registering details now? Snatching up the can of coffee and closing the door gently he studied the coffee maker before taking a couple strides to the sink. Emma already knew he was up so he wasn't really sure why he was standing there letting the water trickle into the pot.

Emma's soft "Good morning" caused him to jump nearly cracking his head on an overhanging cupboard. Emma already dressed for the day her red hair curled flawlessly perfectly framing her face.

"I can make the coffee. I got pretty good at it. Carl drank it every morning. Go get washed up, we don't have much time." Will was sure she could hear his heart sink. He had been hoping she had bought the coffee maker and coffee for him like he had the tea and tea kettle that had not been touched since Emma had been over that one night for her.

"Great," Will replied.

"Bathroom is just down the hall and to your left, first door." Did that mean she didn't know he had been outside the door? He decided on that option not caring to think he had made his presence known until he had run into the end table and by then he had been back in the living room. Perfectly logical.

Carefully setting the pot down next to the sink he side-stepped Emma resisting the urge to kiss her good morning.

The bathroom was just like the kitchen. Soft pastels covered the walls and the towels were a light pink. If I were a washcloth in Emma's bathroom where would I be? He had already decided he wasn't going to shower he wasn't exactly sure how Emma would feel about his "germs" being in her shower. Although, she had been the one to deepen the kiss last night a pleasant surprise that still left him grinning like an idiot. His eyes fell on the cupboard next to the sink. What was in there? What was she so apprehensive about? He wasn't snooping. He wasn't. Pulling the door open his head tilted in confusion. A scale? Gently moving it to the side his hopes of her reaching for something else were shot to hell when his gaze was returned by bare cupboard space. Why was she going to weigh herself? Washing off hastily he set out in search of Emma.

Creeping down the hall agains he poked his head around the corner to the kitchen. What am I doing? Why don't I just walk in, it's not there isn't an excuse. The coffee is done. I'm not snooping. I'm not.

Will watched as Emma grabbed a glass pyrex measuring cup before setting out both the oatmeal and a canister of what he assumed was sugar. Everything about her actions was so practiced as if she had been doing this every morning for a very long time. She deftly removed the lid before dumping some oatmeal in to the cup. Okay, she's measuring her oatmeal, no big deal. You have to measure that stuff. He had learned that the hard way. He had also learned that same morning that exploded oatmeal was a bitch to clean out of a microwave. Emma knelt down in front of the counter so that she eye level with the cup, her tongue sticking out slightly in a look of concentration. He could tell from here that there was probably a little over a half-cup of oats. Emma picked up the cup dumping a small amount back in the container before repeating her earlier examination. Again she dumped more out. Will told himself it was probably just her OCD, with Emma everything had to be perfect. She dumped the oats into a bowl before repeating the entire process this time with water. She refilled the cup four times before she finally added the liquid.

After getting over the shock of seeing Emma use a microwave for something that could have been done on the stove his suspicion of the canister containing sugar was confirmed. Three heaping table spoons soon rested on top of the oatmeal. That was a lot of sugar even for him and he was notorious for his sweet tooth. Sometimes he felt like a five-year old when he was around candy.

Will pushed himself past the corner deciding to make himself known before Emma did it for him. Heading toward the coffee pot he refrained from commenting on her breakfast choice adding yet another thing to his ever growing list. Really he should probably sit down and right out a real list. There was no way he was going to remember all of this stuff.

"Mind if I make some?" He asked motioning towards the bowl. He hated oatmeal. Hated it and usually breakfast was his biggest meal of the day but for some reason he didn't want it to be big this morning. Maybe because there is no pancake mix he thought.

"Uh…sure go right ahead, "the note of apprehension in her voice did not go unnoticed.

Soon both were sitting at the table in front of their respective bowls Will having used far less precision then Emma had some very runny oatmeal. He watched her watched her out of the corner of his eye as she took her long-handled spoon and very slowly raised it to her lips doing the same with each successive bite. Will had never seen someone eat a bowl of oatmeal so deliberately slow. She did a lot of weird things in the morning, weird even for Emma. She had gone to weigh herself (and maybe she still had, she had closed the door after all,) she had measured her oatmeal with a care that Will was starting to doubt was merely a symptom of OCD and she had painstakingly eaten said oatmeal bite by bite with a long-handled spoon. Who used a long-handled spoon? That didn't really make sense and Emma usually always made sense except lately, lately she hadn't really doing things very logically at all. Obsessively correct, yes. Logically, no. He definitely was going to make a list. None of this prevented him from trying to convince himself that this none of this was really nothing more than Emma being Emma.

Emma's POV

She had spent the entire night sleeping on the couch. On top of Will. The aches in her body were worth it, everything was worth it for Will. Including losing this weight.

Somehow she managed to crawl off without waking him up. He looked so cute, his head turned to the left on the armrest propped up at an angle Emma was sure was going to afford him an atrocious crick for the rest of the day. His curls were sticking everywhere and she fought the urge to run her hand through them. He looked so peaceful like this.

Once in the bathroom Emma thought about her next move. She always weighed herself in the mornings it was the first thing she did after getting out of bed unless she had to go the bathroom. Even though she knew that wasn't really classified as losing weight if there was even the slightest chance it would make the needle go lower she was going to do it.

Forgetting to close the door entirely she turned on the light, she removed her clothes and took up her usual spot in front of the cupboard. Tentatively she reached her hand out but she couldn't quite make herself open the door. This is stupid Emma. You don't really need to weigh yourself besides you are probably going to see the effects of Godfathers and that is going to accomplish nothing more than ruining your day before it even begins. The probability of the scale reading higher than 100 caused her to roughly pull her hand back to her chest. She could go one morning without weighing herself. It would work out in her favor when she weighed herself tomorrow morning. Emma stood up and concluded that Will must have been up when she heard the distinctive sound of a body part colliding with furniture. He certainly ran into a lot of things. The sight of the partially opened door stopped the smile at the unexpected klutz that was Will in everyday life. As gently as she could she cut off the stream of light coming from the bathroom.

Will was making coffee. She smiled to herself before telling him to go wash up. Hastily she had added that Carl had drank it every morning so she knew how to make it too embarrassed to tell him that she had bought the appliance shortly after their first date and had poured many pots of the brown substance down the drain but before the night was up she knew how to make coffee. She could tell she had hurt his feelings. Nice way to start the day Emma, hurting someone. Hurting Will.

The rest of her morning had gone by peacefully enough as she went about her ritualized preparation of her breakfast. Will had opted to eat oatmeal too which to her displayed the consistency of something more in line with lumpy soup.

Two very different ring tones clashed as both their cell phones went off at the same time. They had just been ready to walk out the door. Both of them exchanged a bemused smile as they quickly moved to put an end to the dissonance. Emma knew who was calling she had set McKinnely high's number to an upbeat song hoping that it would alleviate the worry she always entertained when the school called. An automated female voice had her running to the window in seconds Will right on her heels. He had apparently received the same call.

There next action was pointless and she was sure they both knew it. Automated phone calls only came for one reason. Looking out the window Emma's eyes widened in shock. Ten inches of snow must have blanketed everything in sight. Including their cars, parked side by side an enormous drift having taken shape between them coming almost to the roof of Will's small Bomber. Emma didn't remember anything about snow when she had checked the forecast a few days ago. Up until now the weather had been relatively mild for winter in Ohio and she had been hoping it would stay that way after the havoc Old Man Winter had wreaked the last season. Welcome winter in Ohio, I haven't missed you.

The wind was picking up as the snow continued to fall. Really it was sort of pretty unless she thought about the fact that Will was going to be unable to get back to his apartment. He was going to be spending the entire day with her. Even though her mind was racing to come up with excuses to stick to her Oatmeal diet she was elated that she was going to have a whole day of this gorgeous man at her side to herself. In fact she was so elated that maybe she would eat something different if nothing else to dissuade any suspicions Will might be forming. He had been watching her a bit more closely after last night, studying her more and Emma was certain he was trying to hide that fact. She hoped he hadn't felt anything through her layers of clothing. She had been unbearably warm last night, partly due to her proximity to Will but mostly due to the tank stop, long-sleeved shirt and sweatshirt she had been wearing. He couldn't have noticed anything. Besides it's not like she was noticeably skinny anyways. No one had ever said anything to her so she knew she didn't look any thinner than she had before. Her frequent examinations in front of a mirror had confirmed that fact on more than once occasion. Turning to face Will she her eyes silently questioned if he had known anything about the snow.

"No idea, Em. Really I don't know why any of us bother to even check the forecast around here. They are always wrong when it come to snow. Mind if I stay here for the day?" His looked almost incandescent and he was obviously fighting to keep his lips from curving into a grin.

No of course I don't mind. I would absolutely love that. I can't even believe this how perfect. An entire day with you! An entire day to learn everything I can about you. Favorite color, book, movie, season, day of the week, quote, how you behave outside of school, facial expressions, eye color, to possibly kiss you more.

She caught and successfully squandered the blush she could feel rising before refocusing her mind on something a bit more acceptable. Maybe she could entice him to sing for her, okay she knew she could entice him to sing for her. He always wanted to sing and often he would randomly break into song when someone said something that reminded him of one a small blush forming the confused expression of whoever he was talking to caused him to stop. Emma always smiled, and often he finished the song looking directly into her eyes. She could drown herself in his eyes. A smirk started to form when she looked the brown curls a top his head. She didn't have any hair gel. She could finally get an answer to that question, not that she would divulge that information, least of all to Sue. She wouldn't subject Will to that torture. He must have noticed the smirk and the direction of her gaze.

"…and the long-postulated truth finally comes out. You got me, oh god please don't tell Sue, "he blurted.

"Only if you sing for me, and play a game of favorites. I want to learn everything about you."

Well, crap that was rather forward of her. The wide grin that broke through his panic was a relief. Apparently he wanted to play favorites to.

"I would sing anything for you, sweetie. Anything you want, even a country song I know you secretly like them. I have heard you singing them on more than one occasion and I'm hedging a bit that you grew up to the sound of that twang, and I would absolutely love to play favorites, even twenty questions. I want to learn everything about you too. You captivate me Emma Pillsbury"

Will's POV

He hated country, the songs were predictable, the twang was annoying as hell, the only time he had ever had Glee perform one was he had stupidly decided to let April join, and more stupidly allowed her to spend the night even though nothing had happened. Emma had given him the cold shoulder for quite a while after that and he had often wondered if Sue had had a hand in that.

Replaying his words, (an aggravating habit because most of the time he would rather remain oblivious to his verbal idiocy) he realized he had called her sweetie. Apprehensively he searched her face. She was smiling. Will was elated, he could finally say that out loud and not use it in his head nearly every time he addressed her. Hell, he was more than elated he was floating on air, the air only Emma could create. I love her.

Thank god I didn't say that out loud. He was going to have to keep his words firmly in check around her, unless maybe he chose a song with those words. That would be acceptable, lyrics were just lyrics and everyone wrote about love.

This was going to be an amazing day. He had never been so happy to have a snow day in his life which included the fort-building, epic snowball fight filled snow days of his childhood.

Taking her chin in his hand so her eyes met his he slowly allowed himself to lean forward, his mouth dangerously close to hers before he pulled away sharply with a malicious grin.

"Favorite color."