A/N: So, thanks to two lovely people who pointed out my mistake, I have an awkward confession to make. I've been spelling 'Milah' as 'Milla' and I'll explain why. My pen pal, Milla spells her name like 'Milla' so I edited spellcheck to ALWAYS correct it to 'Milla' and forgot to keep changing it back by mistake. Ooops, silly me. But thanks for reminding me :)

Enjoy!

"Have a safe journey, my dear. And please, do offer my sincere condolences to the King and Queen. The loss of a child is simply…awful."

"Thank you, mother, of course, I'll pass on your sympathies."

Milah offered a small nod before digging her heel gently, but firmly into the speckled grey horse she sat upon. She then rode into the forest without as much as a secondary glance. After all, the princess knew what she'd see. She'd see her mother, the Queen, hiding a secret smile beneath a carefully masked, icy exterior.

Despite the kingdom's belief that their beloved prince was dead and gone, Milah knew otherwise. She didn't believe in coincidence. No matter how many times Regina reassured her of its irrelevance; the false letter reappeared in Milah's thoughts over and over again. It was simply too strange not to question. Who had written it? And why did they wish to capture the prince of Andalasia and his closest knight?

Milah winced as she recalled Killian and David's bodies at the ceremony. Their flesh was bloodied and cut with clear animal wounds dug forever into the memory of all who loved them. It was a cruel trick. She herself had fallen for it for a few days. And then, the letter resurfaced in Milah's memory, and she vowed to discover the carefully buried secret that someone had gone to great lengths to hide.

One thing she knew for certain was that Prince Killian and Sir David were not dead.

And as Milah spurred on the horse with an impatient command, the princess urged to find out just where her fiancé had vanished to. Or more importantly, who was the hidden threat of both the Enchanted Forest and Andalasia.

"Step out from the shadows, princess."

Milah furrowed her brow but stepped out into the light of the clearing. "How do you know who I am?"

The immobile woman in the centre of the forest cocked her head upon hearing the other woman's voice. Apart from the small gesture, she remained passive. Ragged robes of brown and dark orange wrapped around her, the Seer's arms were planted firmly by her sides; as though physically shielding them. When she spoke, the Seer's voice held a raspy, pained quality that made Milah wince. "Need I remind you I am a Seer? We can see many paths into the future as well as the present. All of your paths are ones that hold great significance, princess."

"Wonderful." Milla said flatly. She kept a wary eye on the strange woman, aware of the rumoured gift she possessed. "I heard there were many ways to summon you." Milah addressed the woman with clear conviction. "But I thought it fair to come to you myself."

The Seer's cracked lips pulled into a hint of a smile. "I appreciate your consideration. Tell me, what can I do for you, child?" She stared in Milah's direction, and the princess grew unnerved under her hard gaze. Although instead of eyes, the Seer had ugly and threatening criss-crossed stitches, Milah still knew better than to assume weakness.

I am nor a child.

Instead, Milah took a step closer to the waiting Seer. "I seek knowledge of Prince Killian's whereabouts."

As they began to violently quiver and shake, The Seer raised her palms face up towards the sky. Then, she spoke quietly, "You seek the Mad Hatter."

"The Mad Hatter? How does that name relate to my fiancé?" Milah snapped.

"He can help you find your loved one."

Killian is not my love.

"So he is alive?"

"Oh, yes, child. Your prince is very much alive."

Milah hid a sigh of relief. Although confirmation of her worries and doubts was only a start, it still allowed Milah to feel more confident. She relaxed her shoulders and unclenched her fists, spreading her fingers slowly against her riding pants. "The Mad Hatter?" She repeated again, this time, curiously. "How can he help me?"

The Seer remained silent. Though just when the princess was about to grow impatient, she raised her palms even higher as a pained gasp escaped the strange woman. "Your prince has been banished to a far off realm. Only The Mad Hatter can assist you in your quest. Only he will offer you service to cross realms and return once more."

He's in another realm? Milah thought, running a tongue slowly over the dry lips. Her brow furrowed again, a gesture that seemed to be rather frequent the more she discovered. Whoever wanted Killian gone went to extreme lengths to ensure his, and David's disappearance.

"Very well." Milah softened her tone in hope that the Seer recognised her gratitude. "Where can I find this…Mad Hatter?" The sooner she rescued Killian, the sooner the threat over the kingdom would be discovered and named. Then, they would reunite over the Dark One's threats and peace would be restored.

The Seer gave a suggestive laugh, the corners of where her eyes would've been now crinkled with secret knowledge. "It's not where you can find him that's the problem, my child. It's persuading him to use his services. He lives in the heart of the forest, but you see, he's a rather distant man."

She laughed again, and this time, Milah took a cautionary step back. "However," The Seer paused, palms beginning to move in hypnotic patterns of circles and spirals. She suddenly stilled with a wide smile. "I do believe you'll succeed, princess. I…I cannot reveal any more than that. I'm sorry."

Milah waved a hand. "You've been most helpful." She thanked softly.

"As a warning of caution, child, there are many threats you will face along whichever path you choose." The Seer finally lowered her hands, and when she looked across at Milah, her gaze seemed direct and powerful. "Beware that some may come from a terribly close proximity."

As Milah left feeling tense and unprepared, a recognisable giggle escaped the lips of a nearby figure also watching the princess leave. Rumplestilskin cocked his head and smirked, addressing the Seer with a disregard of, "Well done, dearie. The princess is quite underway on her little adventure."

Reaching down to pick up her abandoned shawl, the Seer's voice began to quiver with guilt. "I should have forewarned her about Jefferson."

The Dark One shrugged. "Come, now. She'll find out soon enough." Another bout of laughter erupted from his scaly lips. "And don't we all enjoy little surprises now and then?"

"I command you to release me at once! Do you even know who I am? Release me!"

Across in another realm, there was a milder trouble brewing. One of David's cell officers, a mid-thirties man with a crew cut and black and white dragon tattoo, scoffed, "Yeah, buddy, that's not gonna happen unless some idiot bails you out, or you're somehow crazy rich enough to skip bail." He directed the knight into his cell for the night. "Until then, you're stuck in here, so deal with it, okay?"

"It's just a holding cell, man. And you're lucky no one was injured, you know." The other officer added with a disapproving look. "Otherwise you could've had serious charges against you. Crazy fool."

David took a moment to focus his anger into observation. Looking around, he sighed. The walls of his cell held some similarities to the prisons in his own realm. The four metal bars that made up the small but reasonable square space were probably the easiest thing that David had grasped from this strange new realm. He gathered, however, from the chilled temperature that it was far from luxurious. Judging by distant angry cries and complaints, it seemed David wasn't the only one unhappy with current events. David in fact, felt surprisingly comforted by the similar prison, and after blocking out the angry echoes, he found it easy to relax and clear his mind.

Although the prison was clearly not a place to be enjoyed, the young knight was comforted by its solitude. It was the only thing so far that reminded David of home. Now, all he had to do was break out, find Killian, and quickly discover a way back to Andalasia. The Queen must be stopped.

"What'd they throw you in for, then?"

David jumped, startled by the sudden voice from the conjoined cell opposite him. He'd been so blindly wrapped up in thoughts that he'd completely ignored the young woman on arrival.

He stood and hurriedly lowered into a polite bow, one arm carefully tucked behind his back. He smiled at the woman, always eager to engage in anything that made him feel of norm. "I am Sir David of Andalasia." He told her happily. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, mi 'lady."

"Huh." David's mysterious cellmate raised a single eyebrow at his bow. Her long, dark hair hid most of her face, but David assumed her expression was also amused. "Well, aren't you a real prince charming?"

"No…my name is David. I...I just informed you."

Her laughter was pleasantly loud and unashamed. "I don't care. Charming suits you."

Despite her playful teasing, David was delighted by the engagement. He found it enjoyable to simply talk, even if his conversation partner was currently laughing at his customs. She caught his eye and winked, and David was taken aback by her boldness.

Perhaps her crime was lacking in tack, he wondered curiously.

"I'm Mary, by the way." She added quietly, and turned her head away again. There was a hint of uncertainty in Mary's voice and David assumed this was hardly a place for personal discussion. Then she quickly smirked and her face lit up in amusement. "In case you were trying to you know, doe-eye it out of me."

"Excuse me?"

But Mary was already swiftly moving on to another topic and asked, lightly, "So, what brings you into this happy place?" This time, Mary quickly sat up from the bed she'd previously been lying on and swung her legs around to sit crossed legged on the mattress. Her dark hair parted and David paused for a moment when he noted her beauty; both inner, and outer.

With a soft, round face and eyes that sung of adventure and mischief, Mary seemed blessed with a curious soul etched into warm, green eyes. There was grace in her movement, but that of a practised fighter; aware of each placement of a foot or arm, and David wanted to know where she'd been taught such control. Although simple clothing of black, tight pants and a loose-fitting brown knee-length shirt also gave her a peaceful aura. Already, her complexity began to blossom before David's eyes, and he felt himself eager to learn every page of Mary's story.

"Earth to royalty." Mary waved a hand in David's direction to regain his attention. She raised an eyebrow again. "You have seen a woman before, right?"

Though her tone was teasing, there was an underlining test that David felt compelled to succeed in. His cheeks flushed slightly as he avoided her direct gaze. "I'm sorry…forgive me, mi 'lady." He murmured. "I did not mean to stare."

Mary blinked once, then again. "Huh." She began in a clearly conveyed tone of surprise. "Men don't usually appreciate us females calling them out, let alone apologise for leering." A small but gracious smile pulled at the corners of her slight lips. "You surprise me, Charming."

He shrugged. "I believe that anyone should be treated with respect." Trying to appear casual as he looked away from Mary's hard gaze was difficult, but a sincere smile revealed David's good-natured pride. "Women and men of all status, we all have a right to be given respect." It was a simple enough idea, but David viewed it seriously. He believed that respect was the singular most important thing in the realm. In any realm, for that matter.

There was a moment's pause before Mary shuffled on the mattress and laughed, keeping her gaze –which had now softened – on his. "Wow, you really are a prince."

David frowned. "I know. I told you."

The young woman chuckled again. "Obviously sarcasm is not your forte."

If it were possible, David's brows knitted closer together in confusion. "I have no idea what you're referring to. And please stop calling me…that." He ignored Mary's answering scoff and quickly gestured around their cells. "How long will they keep us in this…prison?"

"Why?" Mary's eyes shone with a mischievous glint and her teasing smile matched her quip of, "Are you scared?"

David's reply was instant. "Never."

He automatically regretted the false claim. Of course David was scared. He'd awoken in an unknown realm, lost contact with the only friend who could help him get back home and was now being held captive in a heavily guarded prison. The correct phrase would be, what wasn't he scared of? He took a moment to still his heartbeat, distantly staring down at the grey tilled floor.

"You know what? I almost believe that." Mary's reply was quiet, as though still trying to piece David together like a complicated puzzle. Or a strange piece of human machinery born without a manual. She took in the grey shadows under David's eyes, and the distant look of a man adrift, and somewhere within Mary, a kindred spirit began to flicker in synch with David's.

She took pity on her cellmate and added, "They'll only keep me in overnight, probably. You?" She shot David an apologetic look. "Sorry, no clue. That all depends on what you did."

Humiliating flashbacks of loud crowds and too-bright lights resurfaced in David's mind. He winced inwardly, biting his lip in silent gratitude that Mary hadn't seen his oh-so-public display. "What crime are you in for?" He quickly replied.

Mary narrowed her green eyes but didn't press further. Then, she sighed. "The injustice of feminism."

"I beg your pardon? The injustice of…?"

"Feminism." She repeated stonily. "You know, that really threatening theory that women are equal to men."

David recited her words over and over again, but to no avail. He shook his head carefully and replied, "Forgive me, mi 'lady, but I have no idea what you're talking about."

With a sigh, Mary rolled her eyes and began to elaborate on her story. "Basically," She began. ", this guy jumped me in the middle of a goddamn sidewalk. I beat his ass up and then got arrested for it when the police finally arrived." He noted that her mouth was now set in a thin, angry line by the end. "Get it?"

He looked bewildered. "Why in the God's name would someone jump you? Do you mean…this thief attacked you?"

"Uh huh."

"That's rather unchivalrous."

"And that's putting it mildly."

"Did he hurt you?"

"My pride says no but my fists say 'yes'." Mary held up the backs of her hands to reveal swollen red knuckles with a few, small cuts. When she noticed David's eyes widen with horror, she quickly placed them back in her lap and playfully added, "You should see the other guy's nose. It was worth it, trust me."

This realm continues to grow stranger and stranger, David thought. Once again, he was rendered speechless by the differences of both realms. Men and women fighting roughly for thievery and crime. Bright lights and large crowds of brash noises and reckless cheers. It was so…overbearing. As though the Gods couldn't decide what to manifest, so they simply threw every known creation into one world and laughed at the wreckage.

Realising that Mary was still staring at him, David cleared his throat. "At least…this thief didn't steal anything, I hope?"

She smiled, and it was a small and soft gesture that gave a sense of well-needed hope to David's loss and their surroundings. "Nope, but I stole something of my own in return." She caught his disapproving look before throwing her hands up in surrender. "What?" She groaned. "Don't give me those doe eyes, I deserved a little payback."

David gaped at her for a moment. "You're a thief!"

"And you're a prince." She bit back with a grin. "What a pair we make."

"What did you steal?"

"Just a handful of notes. It doesn't matter; they've been confiscated now anyway, you can quit judging me." She began toying with a wisp of hair, coiling it around her finger as she spoke. "My record isn't as pure and white as yours."

"Notes?"

As Mary was unable to detect a hint of humour in David's question, she simply explained, "Money."

"Oh, yes." David ignored the growing heat across his cheeks. Every mistake he made only further reminded the young knight of his lack of belonging to this realm. "You use notes instead of coins?"

"We have coins too." She replied slowly, searching for any trace of sarcasm.

"You stole money."

"Yes, I stole money, okay?"

"And they…the officers…will release you tomorrow? Even though you stole money?"

Mary tilted her head again like a devilish kitten. Her lips quirked into a smile again and when she looked across, David was pleased to no longer see any discomfort or uncertainty. Instead, Mary's expression was open and relaxed. Even her upper body was naturally tilted towards him. "You almost sound worried about me, Charming." She teased cheerfully, still toying with that same strand of hair before adding, "Look, after 24 hours, they'll call my roommate and she'll bail me out."

"I'm glad." David smiled. He hoped it conveyed the gratitude that he felt for her companionship.

"Are you?"

"Why would I lie?"

Mary shrugged but David watched as she looked away to reflect on something unseen. "Most people do."

A pause echoed with significance until David thought of his family and friends. He smiled softly at Mary and replied, "Then you've spent your life with the wrong people."

Quiet yet comfortable silence broke out again. Save for the occasional shout from a nearby cell, the pair sat in deep reflection. David thought of Killian, and his mother, Ruth and his late father. Both had always been so supportive in his quest to seek knighthood and travel across the realms with Killian. He'd not seen his kind-hearted mother in a long while. Ruth had been travelling up for the wedding but now David wondered if he'd ever see her again. He blinked to clear forming tears as his thoughts of family and separation and being lost clouded his mind. He was now even more grateful for the cool air working against his heart's almost painful throb for a long-lost kingdom.

When Mary's voice cut through the silence, David welcomed it as a temporary distraction.

"I, uh," She tugged at a strand of hair and muttered, ", can ask my roommate to lend you some money and bail you out too…if you'd like."

David swallowed in surprise. "You would do that for me?" He asked quietly. "Why?"

Trying to appear casual, Mary swung her legs around and began straightening out the bed's covers. With her back turned to David, he couldn't see her jittery fingers anxiously missing the corners of the bed sheets as she spoke. Her tone however, was easily noticeably as rehearsed to avoid emotion. "Seems like the honourable thing to do, I suppose."

He smiled at the young woman's back. "This world continues to surprise me."

Mary turned around again, hair spinning to settle across her shoulders in a spread of dark, loose waves that framed her face beautifully. With her smile gone, she looked like an avenging angel sent to start wars with tricks and charm. "You find it surprising that a woman can fend herself and others, Charming?"

Her anger no longer frightened him, but David was still quick to correct the misunderstanding. "No, I don't. I learnt that a long time ago, mi 'lady." He paused and watched her expression soften, lips pulling into a smile before he carried on. "What surprises me is the kindness of strangers, like you. You…it…reminds me of home."

"Home." Mary sounded wistful now, as though home was some strange concept that she'd only read about in tales. "Sounds wonderful."

"Lights out! No noise, everyone."

The officer's call startled both David and Mary. They waited a few moments before reclining onto their separate beds. Although their beds rested against opposite walls, there was an air of intimacy that David felt was relaxing yet wonderfully tense at the same time. It was as though they were comfortable yet wanted more.

"Goodnight, Mary." He called out softly in the sudden darkness.

There was a quick chuckle, and then her reply came. "Goodnight, David. Here's to finding home, wherever that may be."

Oh, god. Oh, god.

Jesus Christ, what the hell was I thinking?

Emma paced up and down her bedroom. The soft, irritated tapping of her feet against the wooden floorboards only matched the growing pace of Emma's anxious heartbeat. Awaking the following morning had sobered her up quite a bit. Especially as she suddenly realised Henry was about to walk in and see a damn Disney prince on the sofa.

"Hit a crazy guy with your car and invite him up to your apartment?" Emma mumbled. "Sure, why not?" She quickly dressed in a simple yet comfortably feminine blue blouse and black pants and flung on a chequered scarf to hide the stressed flush beginning to blossom across her upper chest and collar bone.

A quiet creek interrupted Emma thoughts and she swore, recognising Henry's footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Oh, hell!

Snapping on a pair of heeled boots, Emma flung the door open and quickly managed to grab the back of Henry's shirt with all the grace of an intoxicated chicken. The look her son gave her would've been amusing had it not been for Emma's worries. Henry's expression furrowed, brows knitted tightly together as he stared at her hands like they were burning through his pyjama top. "Uh…you okay, mom?"

"Yes, sorry!" Emma let go off his shirt and attempted a breezy smile. Judging by Henry's frown, it hadn't worked. "There's something I need to tell you."

Henry nodded uncertainty. "Okay…?"

There must be an easy way to do this, Emma winced as Henry's expression only grew in confusion. Debating whether or not to skip work, an idea suddenly hit her and she snatched it desperately.

Smiling a little more easily, Emma reached out and tousled her son's hair fondly. "Henry, I had to invite a client back to sleep here last night."

Henry's forehead unwrinkled. "Oh, right. Like that other woman?"

Emma remembered another young client she'd had to invite over a few months back named Nora. The young woman had finally plucked up the courage to divorce her cheating husband and Emma had felt more than just a pang of sympathy for her, and offered her a place to stay during the course of the divorce.

She nodded at Henry, grateful for his excellent memory. "Yeah, like Nora."

"Where are they?"

"Uh, he crashed in the living room, on the sofa." Emma muttered. She really didn't want Henry to question his mother's sanity any more than he already was. Considering Killian's lost state, Emma prayed that the strange young man was still asleep. Perhaps it was wrong, but Emma was a tiny bit pleased she'd hit Killian with the car now. "He's probably still sleeping-"

"Good morning, Lady Swan, and…young Sir."

Damn it.

Emma turned; an arm curled protectively around Henry as she addressed the clearly now-awake Killian standing a few feet away.

And hell, he really was as gorgeous as Emma had dreaded.

In the warm daylight flooding in from outside, Emma noticed the elegant detail in Killian's outfit. The brown long coat reached his ankles, trimmed with a thin strip of black, and ruffled white arm sleeves made Emma wonder which Jane Austen novel he'd jumped out of. There was an air of royalty and confidence in his upright stance. Shoulder back with slightly widened blue eyes, Killian's calm expression suggested he'd spent a great deal of time mastering the art of formality and correct addresses.

Emma couldn't hide a small smirk pulling at her lips. Disney sure outdid themselves with this one.

But he was undeniably handsome, too, and Emma's gaze ran helplessly over his face.

Though comparing Killian to Disney was like comparing Pepsi to Coke, it simply didn't do him enough justice. High cheekbones, a strong jaw and slight dark stubble, Killian was the love child of Prince Charming and a dark-haired 90s Biker Boy. He had that regal air, but also a hint of mischief and natural charm in the formal but friendly manner he spoke. A hidden glint of playfulness buried itself behind striking blue eyes. The accent sure helps, Emma noticed. She still couldn't quite place it; the lilt sounded Old English mixed with a hint of Irish and something else. Killian's entire appearance was classy and she couldn't help but take pleasure in feeling the outfit was well suited.

"Uh, hey." Emma raised her hand in a wave and immediately wanted to slap herself in the face. Henry needed to believe everything was ordinary and she'd only gone and freaking waved like a pre-schooler.

Killian cocked his head at her with a little smirk and Emma resisted the urge to duck her head.

"Did you sleep well?" She managed a little more casually.

Emma watched as Killian's smile grew sincere, and he gave a grateful nod. "Wonderfully, thank you." His accent added a low, pleasing tone to his voice, and Emma could confidently wager that he'd had no trouble courting, at all. Killian ducked his head sheepishly and brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous little gesture Emma had noticed the previous night. "However, the chambers in this realm are rather difficult to navigate." He glanced around the apartment in awe. "I'm afraid I've been searching for a lavatory for a considerably long time."

Lavatory, realm, navigate, Emma internalised, amused. This guy is really selling it.

She then realised they were running late when Henry cleared his throat pointedly. "Oh, breakfast!" She rushed Henry into the kitchen, keeping a wary eye on Killian trailing behind. "Sorry, yes…Henry, can you get yourself sorted? I need to…uh, get the kettle on."

Her son nodded, side-eyeing Killian as he hovered around the breakfast bar. Emma clicked the kettle on and leant back on the counter to watch Killian. His hands continued to rub circles into his neck and his uncertainty was clear to all. She suddenly remembered last night and bit back a concerned gasp.

"Killian…are you, you know, okay?" Emma looked back over her shoulder, careful to make sure Henry's attention was still on preparing breakfast, and leaned forwards on the countertop. Killian looked back at her just as intently. "It's just…last night…?"

"I assure you, mi 'lady, no harm was caused." Killian slowly stepped closer, face inches from hers as his lips tugged into a teasing smirk. "Unless that was your intent?"

Ignoring the intimate closeness, Emma gaped at his implication. "No, of course not!"

Henry shot the pair a raised eyebrow before reaching up to grab a cereal bowl. Emma anxiously waited for Henry to comment, but then visibly relaxed when her son rummaged around in the cupboards, attention back to mundane activity once again.

She quickly drew back again and kept a distance between them. Her eyes were cast down away from Killian in attempt to try and refocus on constructing an ordinary, professional atmosphere. So Emma plastered a false, over-welcoming smile onto her face and breezed, "So, Killian," She raised her voice to be heard over the morning radio show. "Do you drink tea, or coffee at all?" When Killian frowned, she began to panic. "Uh, I can get you juice?" She tried again.

Killian's eyebrow simply rose even higher.

"Okay, how about…hot chocolate?" Emma asked. His lack of response put her further on edge. Sooner or later, Henry was going to realise something was off.

Just choose a damn beverage, Emma silently begged. She began to helplessly ramble, praying that Killian could sense her desperation. "That's my favourite…with cinnamon…and whipped cream?" With one final attempt, Emma tried to smile encouragingly, but had no doubt it seemed obsessive and most likely insane. "It's good, trust me…?" She managed to finish weakly.

Fortunately, Killian finally acknowledged her discomfort and his expression unclouded in realisation. "A…hot chocolate…would be exquisite."

His accent struggled with 'hot chocolate' as though it was a foreign concept, and now it was Emma's turn to question his sanity. Who the hell lived in New York City and hadn't heard of, or even had, a freaking hot chocolate? No one, that's who. So why was Killian so out of touch? But although there was definitely something unusual about him, Emma still felt drawn to Killian. Sure, the guy was attractive and handsome in a constructed dream-man sort of way, but there was something else. She'd quickly noticed it last night; that recognisable lost depth of a man used to navigating rough seas, now abandoned on land. Killian's attire was bizarre, but his abandonment was a feeling Emma recognised all too well.

And Emma felt alluringly drawn to help Killian; to be there when no one had been for her as a child. Just like Walsh was trying to do-

Walsh.

Walsh.

Emma's eyes widened. "Walsh!"

Henry and Killian both turned to stare at Emma's outburst with equal surprise.

Glancing up at the kitchen clock, she remembered with approaching urgency that Walsh would be arriving in…hell, less than ten minutes, to pick up Henry as requested. Damn it. Emma cast a nervous glance at Killian, handsome face and all, and winced. There was no doubt Walsh would assume the worst just as any normal person would mistakenly do so.

It was too late now to kick Killian out, especially now that Henry would question his mother's abrupt rudeness.

So Emma made a quick decision. I'll just have to keep him hidden, she thought feebly. She barely even convinced herself. Running a hasty hand through her loose waves, Emma tugged at her hair and hid a groan. There was nothing to be done now, she'd simply have to make do.

"Didn't you want to use the bathroom, Killian?" She asked cheerfully, with painfully obvious direction. Nothertheless, Emma shuffled past Henry, who was now engaged in a novel and paying little attention to his mother's frantic pacing. She tugged at Killian's arm and practically yanked him down the hallway.

"Well, yes-"

He easily followed Emma with a startled cry, but didn't protest further.

"It's just down here…" She told him brightly. The plastered smile turned to desperation and when she looked back at Killian, he stared right back.

Emma swallowed. Great, he definitely thinks I'm insane now.

She paused and opened the bathroom door, revealing a light green and brown room containing a walk in shower, small bathtub and loo. Without pausing to reconsider, Emma pushed Killian from behind with a supportive, "There you go!" and ignored his startled grunt when he almost tripped onto the tiles. "If you want a shower, take your time! Just step in and it'll automatically sense you. Red button is for hot, blue for cold. Okay? Good. See you later!"

"But-"

With another wave that she'd definitely blush at later, Emma flung the bathroom door shut much to Killian's surprise. She spared a glance to her watch and bit her lower lip. 7 minutes to go, wonderful, she breathed a sigh of relief and felt her shoulders loosen from the tension they'd been carrying.

A moment later, the shower's heavy spray echoed from inside the bathroom. Emma couldn't hide her grin this time when an equally loud, low cry of surprise reverted as well.

Well, well, well. Emma grinned guiltily on her way back to the kitchen. Looks like the prince found the shower alright.

Henry then called from the living room, pushing aside Emma's amusement. "Hey, mom?"

"What's up, kid?"

Emma stepped into the living room and her eyes widened when she realised what Henry was holding; Killian's sword.

"Why does Killian have a sword? Hey!" Henry's face lit up with excitement as he was struck with sudden inspiration. His happy smile was infectiously wide. "Can I borrow it for show and tell?"

"What? No! Henry, you can't just…"

Before she could finish, Emma watched horrified as her son reached out and poked the tip with a forefinger. "Ow, it's sharp." Henry muttered, but his smile only grew.

"Henry Neal Swan, put down that sword, now."

Startled by Emma's sudden sharp tone, Henry quickly placed the sword back in its sheath and shuffled his feet awkwardly in front of his mom. He mumbled an apology and looked down in embarrassment at the troublesome finger, avoiding her stern gaze.

Emma sighed. His wounded baby animal look tugged guiltily at her heart, so Emma moved closer and pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry, Henry, I didn't mean to snap. I was just being careful. " She said softly, and placed a quick kiss onto Henry's forehead. He pulled back and she was relieved to see Henry's usual happy smile had reappeared.

"Where'd he get the sword?" Henry persisted with an eager grin.

"Oh, that. Killian is kind of a fairy-tale buff." She lied quickly. Henry raised an eyebrow so she added, "He's part of a local theatre group. Totally got the hots for Cinderella, you know." Emma grinned when Henry rolled his eyes, glad to have their usual banter and comfort back. I hate fighting.

"Mom, I could talk to him about my story!"

Emma winced. Yeah, that's bound to turn out well for all involved.

"Look," She redirected Henry's attention with a nod to his room. "Walsh will be here in a few, why don't you go get dressed and ready?"

Eager to escape, Henry ducked under her arm and disappeared down the hallway, leaving Emma, finally, alone for a few moments.

This is fine, I've got this completely under control. Emma exhaled shakily and ran a hand over her outfit to smooth out any lines and crinkles in the material. Killian is in the bathroom, I'm ready to go, Henry is, Walsh'll be here soon. I can do this.

Henry reappeared with the addition of his navy rucksack, arms happily wrapped around his latest novel. But just then, as Emma reached out to tousle his hair, two significant moments occurred at once;

One was the doorbell; Walsh.

And the other caused Emma's heartbeat to rocket into high figures again; the bathroom door creaking open…

"I'll get the door!"

"Henry, wait-"

Watching her son skip over to the door, Emma trailed off helplessly. She threw her hands up in frustration and spun around.

Walsh could not see Killian, that was a surety. There wouldn't be enough time to explain. And God knows what mayhem Killian would accidently cause by insinuating something inappropriate about how she'd let him stay the damn night. Which, of course, Walsh may not appreciate. So Emma did was any normal, sane woman would do.

And when the door opened and Walsh greeted Henry, Emma forced a casual wave. "See you guys later! She managed, before rushing around the corner and stepping into the bathroom…

"Mi 'lady?"

Well, damn, was Emma's first thought.

Whether a prince or no prince, she couldn't deny that Killian looked equally as good without clothes as he did in them.

He was, thankfully, wearing a large white towel around his lower half, thank the heavens. Emma shamelessly trailed her burning gaze across Killian's taut muscles and swallowed once, then again. Her heartbeat was helplessly drumming for an entirely other reason now. And it definitely wasn't due to the gathering shower steam. Sure, Emma had seen plenty of muscle tone before, but Killian was incredibly statuesque for a young man; as though carved straight from the tall, dark and handsome cliché. There was still that formal, regal posture and without a shirt, Emma couldn't help but appreciate his tall frame. He was slight, but possessed strengthened biceps that only came from recurring exercise. She made a mental note to consider switching personal trainers because Killian quite obviously had a better deal.

After what felt like a lifetime of awkward and intimate silence, she replied, "Just call me Emma."

Oh, hell, was that my voice?

It had seemed to drop a notch into a husky tone thick with something far from innocent.

Killian shifted and turned a fraction, as though considering shielding his body from her completely. Shoulders hunching slightly, his hands automatically reached out to cover his chest, as though visibly uncomfortable of showing any skin whatsoever. It was strange but also sweet, and Emma hid an amused smile.

She cursed suddenly and remembered the purpose of actually barging in. As though realising her mistake, Emma flushed as heat painfully began spreading across her cheeks. "Oh, god…sorry. I just…uh, wanted to see if you got the shower working." She smiled weakly. "And it looks like you did! That's…awesome. Really."

Killian came to her rescue with a bemused chuckle, and he turned to gesture at the shower. "Where does the water come from?" When he looked back, his eyes had returned to their ordinary, cheerful glint. His smile was also genuine, and she relaxed in seeing Killian's usual and permanent state of curiosity.

"They come from the pipes."

"Aye, but where do they get the water from? Is it…magical?"

Emma raised an eyebrow, and searched his face for a sign of jesting. When she found none on Killian's curious but serious expression, Emma shook her head. "Uh, no, it's not. Welcome to the 21st century!" She said brightly.

At her words, Killian took a step closer to her, mere inches between them now, and the closeness created an air of intimacy that was like electric; sparking and flicking between heated looks and mutual attraction-

Get it together, Emma.

Killian didn't move any further, and she exhaled, a little shakily, but still. His lips parted into an open smile. "Thank you, Emma." He said gently. It would've been a simple 'thank you' had it not been for the intimate and direct way in which Killian chose to look at her. Emma nodded slowly, unable to look away for another few moments.

"It's no problem. I did hit you with my car, after all."

He chuckled again, and ran a hand through his now-drying hair. A few dark strands stood on edge in a wonderfully tangled mess. "Yet I am a stranger to you, and you kindly invited me into your home and trusted me staying near to your son." Killian's accent lowered his tone even more, and Emma swallowed when he added, "I promise I shall find a way to repay your kindness, Emma Swan."

She quickly looked down at her steamed watch and breathed a sigh of relief. Surely Walsh would be gone by now-

"May I pass through, mi 'lady?"

"Oh, yeah, sure…wait!"

Killian brushed past her, hand hovering on the doorknob, but he turned back at Emma's protest.

I'll make him stay a bit longer, just in case.

She rushed to think of something to occupy his attention. In a useless and pretty inexcusable attempt at flirting, Emma twirled a finger around her hair and offered another brilliantly wide grin. "So, where are you from again, Killian?"

The young man looked uncertain for a moment, as though determinedly trying to work out what she was doing, though when Killian quickly avoided her gaze, Emma cursed his honourable nature. He clearly wasn't the type to fall for that so she placed her hands back on her hips again.

"I do believe we'd both feel more comfortable in continuing this conversation out-"

"No!"

As Killian turned the doorknob, Emma leapt forwards and reached for him.

Looking back now, she wasn't quite sure just what she'd been planning to do. Perhaps pull Killian back into the bathroom. Or simply hope to startle him back into stillness. Either way, what did happen had most definitely not been Emma's planned outcome.

Killian swung the door open, half turned to her and halfway out the door. In response, Emma let out an urgent squeal, ungracefully sprung across the bathroom, and knocked Killian completely off his feet for the second time in 24 hours. They clumsily landed in an awkward heap on the floor outside; with Emma now lying completely on top of Killian – whose towel had fortunately remained secure. Their faces were pressed slightly against each other's in a completely accidental invasion of personal space. Her arms came up to rest against his bare chest. Also, to make matters worse, Killian's natural response had also been to wrap his arms around her waist.

Killian blinked in surprise.

"Mi 'lady, I-"

"Mom?"

"Emma?"

"Walsh!"

All four speakers shared one similar element; shock. Both Killian and Henry's eyes were wide and unsure, whereas Walsh looked as though he'd seen a ghost, and not a friendly one. He looked as though she'd viciously ripped his heart out and shattered it across the floor.

There was an unbearably loud silence for half a minute, then Walsh looked away. "Emma, you could've told me," Walsh's quiet voice broke the silence. He looked between Killian and Emma sadly and her lip quivered. "You didn't have to do…whatever this is. I would have listened, you know that. Why…" Walsh shook his head, and patted Henry's shoulder. "Come on Henry, let's get you to school."

She quickly knelt away from Killian. "Walsh, this isn't-"

"What it looks like? Because it looks pretty bad to me, Emma." Walsh sighed again. "Let's go."

Emma desperately clambering to her feet, but the front door's abrupt slam cruelly took away what little hope she had left. She moved back until her back collided with the nearest wall and let out a frustrated cry, but instead, it broke into a quiet sob halfway. She'd selfishly broken the heart of an amazing man. Walsh would never see her again, let alone offer her the chance to explain. Emma exhaled in-between sobs. I couldn't explain if I tried to.

Ignoring the reflected guilt-ridden expression in Killian's eyes, Emma angrily leaned her head back against the wall and felt her eyes close in surrender.

How the hell was she going to get out of this one?

Milah took a hesitant step forwards, and straightened out her riding cloak once more.

She rapped at the door loudly, offering four sharp knocks before she could talk herself out of it, and waited for the other side to respond.

The Seer had been truthful and Milah had found a small wooden hut in a large clearing in the centre of the forest. Dark wood-based, the hut was slight and rectangular with a naturally slanted roof that Milah found rather charming.

Though what encircled the house had been far from charming. It had been surrounded by sharp-pointed trees that stretched at terrifying sharp and deadly angles. Milah had cut and sweated her way through with gritted teeth, and her riding clothes were now torn and ruined.

Her plan was to offer as much gold necessary to this 'Mad Hatter' to ensure Killian's safety. She would find the prince and his knight if possible, and then bring them back to the Enchanted Forest. Their alliance would be reorganised, and their marriage finalised.

The young princess smiled at the chance to finally prove herself not only a princess but a hero to her people. Men and women were equal in this realm, but Milah was no fool. She knew that many men frowned upon her adventures and activities. Even joining hunts was considered a taboo for Royal women. However, Milah happily took no notice and ventured out anyway.

She heard shouting and grunting from the other side and took a cautionary step back. Milah's arm hovered against her sword, as she quickly considered whether or not to draw it. Reconsidering, perhaps drawing it would frighten or appear threatening to the Mad Hatter. After all, if she needed his help, Milah knew better than to burst in and assume power. It wasn't best to risk it.

The door swung open with a loud creak, and Milah's arm fell to her side in shock.

"Jefferson?!" She choked.

This was one of my favourite chapters to write so far, so I hope you all liked it too!

I know many of you will comment on whether Killian and Emma's steamy shower scene was subtle foreshadowing, so all I'll hint at is; maybe…

Oh, and whose dynamic did you prefer – Snowing, Captain Swan or Team Warrior-Princess Milah? ;)

p.s. I have a nice little backstory idea for Jefferson and Milah – I know, it's a strange couple/pairing idea, but I really like what I'm planning and I hope you all jump on-board!

Review if you can :)