Thanks for reading and reviewing! All the feedback that I have received on this makes me grin so much :-)

I absolutely cannot wait for tomorrow's episode!

That night, Emma stayed at her family's apartment while she struggled through algebra with her son. Mary Margaret was reading a book while faintly smiling and David was fiddling with his phone.

"Emma?"

She paused from the algebraic equations Henry and her were battling to turn to her father.

"Yeah?"

"You and Hook…"

Not this again. Still her parents were at it

"What about us?"

"You don't plan on getting… married, do you?"

David now had the rapt attention of Mary Margaret.

Mouth opened in slight shock, Emma cleared her throat.

"We've been dating for, like, a couple months! Who said anything about marriage?"

"The two of you seem very close, that's all,"

Ah, so it was working well. Maybe a little too well.

"We're still just dating. I mean, marriage? It's way too early!" she couldn't help the incredulous laughter. The whole thing was fake, but she found that many of the emotions she felt were quite real.

As he nodded, she could tell her father was not reassured.

When she turned back to Henry and the equations, she noticed that the glaze of excitement he had been bearing earlier in his eyes were missing, instead replaced by… emptiness. She was going to have a word with her father and the types of topics he spoke about in front of her son. In the meanwhile, she was going to concentrate on cheering Henry up. It was the least she could do since his mother and father were never going to get together.

Because she knew that despite the fact that Henry had accepted that she and Hook were a 'couple', the kid still had hopes for his two parents to recouple.


On Saturday morning, Emma stared at the restaurant she and Hook had chosen for their 'date' on her phone. After browsing The Storybrooke Site (that was a thing, apparently) for different types of places they could eat at, the one they settled on was Ursula's. Once again, she racked her brains to make sure everything was in check: it was Neal's turn to have Henry and David was in charge of any chaos that would erupt around Storybrooke. Therefore, tonight she had no responsibilities to attend to, just like planned.

She answered the door that evening to Hook. Emma had grown accustomed to the modern attire he now always adorned, but he still got her every time with that grin.

"Hello, Swan!"

"Hey, Hook,"

When he offered his arm to her, she hesitated before lacing hers with his. After a glance back at a beaming Mary Margaret, Emma departed with Hook.


"So…" faltering at the expectant look on his face, Emma cleared her throat. She turned her head to the side, pondering on what to say.

The table they sat at was on the top floor, where the wall on Emma's side was completely made of glass. She had to admit, the view they got of the small Storybrooke buildings that were like cake decorations and of the brush of greyish blue beyond where the sea and sky merged was stunning. Despite the fact that it was six in the evening, there was still a honey glow that oozed over Storybrooke as dusk began to settle.

"Um,"

She looked back to him. Amusement was dancing in his azure gaze.

It was strange how she felt so lost with words when with him. Usually, he would be the one to give an innuendo and she would be the one to reply with a sarcastic comment. Yet now, they were supposed to be talking. She quite frankly had no idea how to start a conversation with the man that sat opposite her.

"It's a nice restaurant," was what she came out with.

"Aye," Hook replied.

They lapsed into silence for a while, watching other people eat and chat and drink without a care in the world. She missed that feeling.

When she glanced up at Hook, she could tell that he had been about to say something. But then a waiter strode to their table.

"Hello, my name is Attina and I am here to take any order you require," she huffed. She was obviously flustered, with her flushed cheeks and frizzy hair. Emma didn't blame her; this place seemed very busy.

Emma smiled at her, glad that there was something to distract her from the awkward conversation she had just struck.

"These are the menus," Attina placed two on their table. "I'll be with you when you need me,"

With that, she was cantering across to a different table.

Leaving Emma with Hook again.

"Hook—"

"Killian,"

"Excuse me?"

"Call me Killian," he repeated.

Killian. It was weird how she was so used to calling him Hook that his real name had a peculiar effect. In all honesty, she thought he didn't care that people called him Hook.

"Okay, Killian," it was so unfamiliar. "I'm not really sure what to say, to be honest,"

"The same reason you asked me out on a date?" he quipped.

Scoffing, Emma flicked her gaze down to her menu as she gathered the reasons on why she had done this in the first place.

"We need to get to know each other…" she trailed off.

They sat there in the midst of Ursula's, in a silence of their own that blocked off the chatter, laughter and clinks of glasses and cutlery.

"I'll start, shall I?" he muttered. When she simply held Ho— Killian's gaze as an answer, he sighed. "This is harder than I thought,"

Emma couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"Yeah, it is. But we're getting nowhere if we continue with ignorance. We need to do this, otherwise Neal's going to come bombarding in,"

"Are you two ready to order yet?" Attina's voice cut through the little talking that had emerged.

"Uh, no, not yet," Emma answered hastily.

"Any drinks in the meanwhile?"

"A bottle of rum for me,"

"I just want water,"

After Attina left, Emma caught Ho— Killian's, damn it— eye. He was smirking.

"Not fond of alcohol, love?"

"I'm not keen on getting another hangover for a long time, thanks very much,"

"Is it that? Or is it you know that I'll be even more irresistible after a few libations?"

If she were to compare the amount of people that lived in Storybrooke to the amount of innuendos Killian came up with, the innuendos would definitely win.

"No, I just don't want to wake up with a banging headache again," she replied, staring right back at him. No matter how fiercely certain she was, his smirk only seemed to deepen and of course an eyebrow was raised in the process.

"So, Killian," she wanted to steer away from any subjects that could lead to a query of their drunken kiss. It was a topic she had successfully managed to avoid the last couple of weeks and she wanted to keep it that way. "Just tell me… anything about yourself,"

"Anything?"

"Well, I did just say that,"

At her quip, he snorted, looking down at his menu. When he looked back up, she could tell that he was measuring what he was going to say.

"I quite enjoy playing the violin,"

That was unexpected.

"Are you serious?"

He shrugged.

"Whenever I got bored in my pirating days, I would play it,"

"Wow. I… did not expect that,"

They simultaneously chuckled.

"It's your turn now, Emma,"

She wasn't sure which one caught her off guard more, the fact that it was her turn or that he used her name. It wasn't often that he addressed her by her first name, but she supposed they were sort of equal now.

"I like kicking some ass," she replied. Which was true enough.

Once again, he chuckled.

"I gathered as much,"

They were quiet again.

"Have you decided what you want yet?" Attina was back, and she sure as hell looked irritated. Ah, the wonders of stress.

"Um," with a glance at Killian, Emma conjured up the first thing that came to mind when she was in a seafood restaurant. "Fish,"

Duh.

"Please don't take the mickey," Attina snapped.

"I wasn't. Genuinely, I want fish,"

"What kind?"

Emma flitted her stare back to her menu.

"Rainbow Trout, grilled,"

Appearing relieved, Attina scribbled it down on her notepad.

"And you?" she asked Killian.

"Same as her,"

As Attina marched off, Emma looked back at Killian. If the glint in his eye told her anything, it was that she was in for a long night.

Emma stared at her icy glass of water that had been promptly delivered. A mist had climbed up the glass, as if someone had breathed on it.

"Do you still play the violin?" she found herself asking.

"Never had the chance, really. It wasn't the most entertaining activity that I could attend too,"

"Okay, buddy, I have no intention on finding out what those other activities were," she held up her hand as he grinned. A conversation with Killian always consisted of innuendos.

"Other than kicking arse, what else is it that you like to do?"

Well, that was a sucker if anything. Growing up, she had never been like all the other kids. They all had hobbies or talents. She had been too weighed down by her past. Yet even when she found her parents, all Emma enjoyed doing was catching those in crime. Even though ironically she had been a thief when she was younger.

"I never did much else, if I'm being honest,"

"Fair enough,"

Another pause. They were becoming so frequent that she felt numb rather than awkward in them.

"Can I take your order?"

The two's heads snapped to the boisterous voice.

"We already had our orders taken," Emma told her. Obviously there had been a misconception with table arrangements.

But it was evident that the woman wasn't listening. In fact, the brunette was eying Killian as if he were the rarest jewel in the world.

Surprisingly, Emma didn't like that. Not one bit.

Even when she cleared her throat, the woman still wouldn't stop ogling him.

"What's your name?" the woman purred, sidling over to a bemused Killian.

At that time, Emma could have done anything. She could have confronted her for flirting with her (fake) boyfriend. She could have called the manager. Heck, she could have got up and left with Killian.

Yet the impulse that came was triggered by an emotion she never thought she would be able to feel again.

So Emma grabbed her glass of water and poured the whole icy content onto the woman.