I tried to balance tha angst. Somewhat. Hope this doesn't leave you as unsatisfied as I left them. xD


She couldn't sleep.

How the fuck am I supposed to fall asleep?

Her muscles ached and she was slightly cold but couldn't muster up the energy to get up and search for a blanket. Her stomach was a little ball of nerves and dread and anguish and every other unpleasant word in the dictionary. And the little alcohol in her system was not to blame. It was, however, responsible for the fucked up taste in her mouth.

I washed my teeth twice dammit!

She could almost taste the rum he had been drinking and she hadn't even kissed him.

Thank God for small miracles!

It would have been a disaster. She shuddered to think of having to show up on set after having kissed Killian. Not that she wasn't shuddering at the thought of showing up tomorrow anyway. She would give just about anything to spend tomorrow in her bed, blissfully unaware of the world outside with all its traps and twists and cruelties and fuck! Why couldn't he stay a spoiled over-confident asshole that got drunk for the hell of it and went home with two or three fangirls and didn't care about anything or anyone? Was that too much to ask for? Why did he have to be even more mistreated and fucked up by fate or whatever the hell was out there than she was? Why didn't that repel her at all?

Get a bloody grin, Swan!

Yeah. That didn't help at all. Could at least the voice inside her head not sound like him?

Get a fucking grip, Emma!

Better.

Now if only she could switch off the rest that was banging around inside her brain in that deep accented broken voice of his.

'the glass that was fucking everywhere'

'swiveled off the road'

'getting back on the road'

Her stomach ached. Her head ached. Her heart ached the most and she was really tired of that little piece of shit's antics. If her heart could just keep quiet for once in her life, maybe, just maybe, she could get out of this one unscathed.

Not bloody likely.

Fuck you!

You'd like that, wouldn't you, lass?

Emma groaned, flopping on her abdomen and muffling her growls in her pillow.

And then her eyes started burning.

No. No, I am not crying for that bastard! NO!

When sleep finally claimed her it was thankfully dreamless. And the tears on her cheeks had time to dry.

/

His mind was blissfully blank as he flopped down on his bed. He couldn't afford himself the luxury of thinking. There was hardly any alcohol in the house except for some beer and his bloody keys were in the possession of one Emma Swan, who had- no! Not going there. He wasn't thinking.

His dreams though were another story altogether.

Ruby. His little sister all covered in glass and blood. There was so much blood. There hadn't been so much blood, had it? But she wasn't little anymore. She was young and wild and fierce. His firecracker. And fire it was that burned in her eyes when she focused them on him. Only they weren't the right shade.

Milah. Always screaming. Why couldn't he remember her any other way. She was always screaming. His name. Always his bloody name. He wanted to forget it, to bury it somewhere, anywhere. He didn't want to hear it anymore. Not like this. She gasped and opened her mouth and he squeezed his eyes in preparation.

'Do you want me to sing your praises?'

Emma. Her arms around him. Holding him together. She shouldn't be the one holding him together. He couldn't let her touch him. She had to stop touching him. She had to let go before something happened. Again. Always.

/

"Morning."

Emma felt the goosebumps erupt all over her skin.

Thank God for long sleeves.

"Hey," she said, voice just a pitch higher than usual, and tried to hide her cringe as she turned around to face Killian.

Well, that's new.

Killian Jones. #1 Hollywood heartthrob and pain in her ass had one of his hands shoved deep in his pocket while the other scratched viciously behind his ear. His head was slightly bowed and he was shuffling, he was actually shuffling his feet.

"Your keys are in my trailer, if you'll just-"

"Sod the bloody keys," he muttered, finally looking up at her.

Ouch! And I thought I looked exhausted.

Emma linked her hands together, trying to physically restrain herself from teaching out and running her fingers beneath his eyes and through his hair.

Now would be a good time to get that fucking grip.

"Swan, I-" Killian was back to seeking eye contact with anything but her. "I'm sorry about last night."

That... was not what she had been expecting.

Avoidance. Annoyance. Making light of the whole thing. Demanding she keep to her own messed up life in the future. Yes. An apology? Not so much.

Can this man do what I expect him to at least once?

"I don't-" he was going to take his damn ear off, if he kept that up. "I'm sorry you had to… deal with that. I didn't-"

He groaned in exasperation, running his hands through his hair. He obviously wasn't terribly familiar with the whole apologizing thing.

Emma took pity on him.

"It's ok," she shrugged, because if he wasn't going to make light of it, she sure as hell would. "I shouldn't have- It's ok."

"It's really not. Not much I can do about it though," he mumbled before focusing her with a contemplative look. "But maybe I can make it up to you?"

Innuendo time.

"With a strictly non-alcoholic drink?"

Or not.

Emma was pretty sure she was doing some on her best 'fish out of water' imitation. Thankfully, Killian seemed too preoccupied with being embarrassed and out of his element to notice.

Killian Jones nervous about asking a girl out. Who would have thought. Wait, no. He's not asking me out. It's just a coffee apology. Oooh, I can finally introduce him to the magic that is cocoa with cinnamon. Wait, no!

"If you don't want to-"

She had been silent for too long.

Say something, dammit!

"The Enchanted Beanstalk?"

"Pardon?"

Something that doesn't make him think you escaped from a mental institution!

"It's a-uh a coffee shop. Just a few blocks from here. Cosier than a Starbucks. Not that we're looking for cosier. Not we! I mean you and I as in… we. So yeah, The Enchanted Beanstalk. Cheesy, I know, but they make the best-"

"Emma," he grinned at her, clearly amused. "Sounds lovely."

Ugh. Bastard. Losing the nervous edge thanks to her babbling.

"Right. Great."

"Today? After we wrap up?"

"Umm, yeah. Sure."

"Alright," he smiled at her, this one more sincere and happy.

Damn. Happy looks good on him.

"Till then," he murmured, grabbing her hand and kissing her knuckles before she had realized what was going on.

She had just agreed to a date with Killian Jones.

/

This wasn't happening. Why today? Why now? Why?!

"I thought we weren't filming that until next week!" she shrieked, feeling herself flush as Regina gave her a look.

"When you are the one directing the movie, Miss Swan, you can make your own schedule. For now, you're gonna have to follow mine," stated the director, her voice leaving no room for arguing.

She was going to kiss Killian Jones. Today.

/

"Bloody Hell!"

/

"Ugh, not now!" she growled at her door which was being thoroughly abused from the other side.

"Swan, open the bloody door!"

Shit!

Emma's eyes widened as Killian's exasperated voice floated in.

Oh, this is bad. This is very very bad.

She got up before freezing on the spot, grinding her teeth and clenching her fists. She was Emma Swan, dammit! She did not get in a ditzy over having to kiss some guy. In a fucking movie! She had made out with dozens of guys in front of a camera. Hell, she had done sex scenes. Killian Jones was no different. And she was not going to let herself go off the deep end because of something as stupid and insignificant as a couple of kisses.

"What?" she growled as she wrenched her door open, maybe a tad too menacing but she was past the point of caring by now.

This day was not going as planned.

For his part, Killian didn't seem fazed at all, pushing his way inside her trailer and waiting calming for her to close the door. Which she did. With a bang.

"What do you want?" she said with a sigh, giving him a murderous look just because Regina had marched off the second after she dropped the bomb on Emma and now she needed to take it out on someone.

A someone who was now stepping forward until his chest was only a slightly deeper inhale from hers and Emma had to actively force herself to stand her ground. His breath was way too fresh for someone who had drunk enough to knock out a whole college party last night. He literally radiated warmth and she could almost feel his hair beneath her fingers and his lips on hers.

Well, that would be coming true in a few hours either way.

"I thought you might not be too keen on the whole crew being there to witness our first kiss," he whispered, lips almost brushing hers as he pronounced the words.

"And you what? Decided to drop by for a quick taste test?"

In retrospect, that might not have been a good choice of words. Not if the way Killian's eyes darkened and the way his tongue darted out to lick his lips was any indication. Emma's traitorous eyes followed the rapid movement, a warm fire starting somewhere deep inside her and spreading outwards at an alarming speed.

"Perhaps."

Now, making words sound like that is absolutely NOT fair.

"Please, you couldn't handle it," she breathed out, her hands clenching in an attempt to keep still.

This was a bad idea. A kiss in front of a camera meant nothing. A kiss in the privacy of her trailer, on the other hand…

"Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it."

She wanted to deny it. She wanted to scoff at him. She wanted to punch the stupid grin off his face. She wanted to kick him out. She wanted to prove him wrong.

She knew he wasn't.

Killian Jones was different and perhaps she couldn't handle it. And in the end she couldn't afford for that to happen in front of half the people they worked with every day. At least that's the excuse she was going with when her hands wrapped around the collar of his shirt and pulled his lips to hers.

Killian needed less than a second to catch up with what was happening. And then they were lost.

Passion, Emma had thought, was something that you channel and bask in, using it to satisfy your own selfish desires.

Passion, as it turned out, was something that ruled over you, making you a slave and making you love every second spend under its reign.

And she was absolutely convinced passion had completely taken over her and Killian. It rushed inside their fortresses as his tongue slipped inside her mouth. It took down every form of defense as they battled for dominance, for absolution. It swept over them, knocking down walls, infusing the very ground beneath their feet with its intensity as they clung to each other for dear life.

Passion plundered them like the most ruthless pirate, leaving to emotion unturned, no secret dream unobserved, taking to prisoners except that blasted piece of her heart.

When they pulled apart she felt the tide going out and dragging her very soul along with it and she felt herself swaying into him, trying to chase after it, after the piece of herself he was so blatantly stealing.

Her one consolation was that Killian seemed as wrecked as she felt. It gave her the strength to draw in a breath that was more oxygen than him.

"That was-"

"a training exercise," she muttered, channeling all her strength and willpower into pulling further away.

And then she was exiting the trailer, not caring that it was her damn trailer. She had to get away. Had to clear her head. Put some distance between them.

She had to run.

/

"Cut!" Regina's voice sliced the air less sharply than usual. "That was good."

And that was the biggest compliment Regina Mills was capable of giving. If Emma's brain was functioning at least somewhat properly, she might have felt smug about it.

Her brain was most definitely not functioning properly.

All it was currently capable of producing were demands for more.

More of him, more of his lips on hers, more of his hands around her waist, more of his fingers running over her cheek and tangling themselves in her hair, more of his tongue chasing hers, more of his taste, his warmth. More.

By the time she started making her way through the daze wrapped around them most of the crew had got back to work and she and Killian were the only people who hadn't moved from their spot.

"Emma."

His voice finally snapped her completely out of the spell she had fallen under.

Wasn't a kiss supposed to break the spell, not put you under one?

"I have to-" she gestured vaguely.

The direction didn't matter. She just had to move.

She had to run.

/

"Jones."

His stupid eyes snapped up to hers and his stupid lips stretched into a light grin over his stupid face.

No.

"Swan," he drawled out, turning her name into something hot and sticky and-

No.

"Look about tonight…" she took a deep breath, this wasn't a big deal, it wasn't. "That's not gonna work for me."

"Oh," his lips twitched downwards for a moment but refused to stay put. "That's alright. Maybe tomor-"

No.

"No. I-" she stared somewhere over his shoulder, then towards her trailer, up towards the ceiling. "Let's just forget it, ok?"

"Forget-" this time when his lips fell they stayed down and if she let it that alone could break her heart. "Emma-"

No.

"I'm sorry. It's better this way."

"Swan."

No.

She turned around and started walking towards the exit.

"SWAN!"

No.

She had to run.