Emma sat in the front seat of the SUV, a bit stunned now that they were truly on their way. Everything had happened in such a maelstrom over the past few days that she was only just now starting to catch up. Killian Jones - a man with whom she was only recently acquainted - was driving her off into the unknown.

And not in the 'ride off into the sunset' way, either.

They were headed after men who had kidnapped her foster client and, from what she had read that morning, made a living doing far worse than that. She had a gun squirreled away in a duffel bag full of clothing that fit but wasn't hers, a satellite phone that she had never even seen the likes of a week ago, and a promise to a man she wasn't even sure she could tolerate to bring his brother home to him in one piece.

Needless to say, it was a lot to take in.

She was thankful that Killian seemed to sense that as he kept the radio off and didn't try to engage her in conversation. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel tunelessly as he maneuvered through morning traffic, but otherwise it was quiet.

Emma was surprised at just how comfortable the silence was.

Before too long, they were standing next to a charter plane on the tarmac at Logan International Airport. There was a mousy young woman running around the airplane that was to take them to DC, doing last minute checks and filling out the paperwork. She wasn't exactly what Emma had pictured when Liam had told them a pilot was expecting them, but nothing about today had been a part of her wildest dreams.

Okay, so maybe someone like Killian might have shown up in her wildest dreams. Emma wasn't blind, and she wasn't an idiot. The man in front of her - with his aviator sunglasses, his artfully mussed hair, and his stylishly popped collar - was attractive and he knew it. And he was something of a knight in shining armor. And he had raced in to save the day like some kind of action hero. And he had acted like a perfect gentleman throughout the whole ordeal. Emma could do far worse than a man like Killian Jones.

But she had learned long ago that real life fairy tales don't exist. And her happy ending? He wasn't going to waltz in to sweep her off her feet and carry her into happily ever after. Real life just didn't work like that. Emma had learned that early and often; she had taken the lesson to heart.

Look out for yourself and you'll never get hurt.

Emma had forgotten that once – when a sly smile and the promise of Tallahassee had snuck past her defenses. She'd be damned if she'd ever forget her lessons again. She was the best at being alone.

Whether or not that hurt depended on how honest she was willing to be with herself at any given moment.

Emma was mystified by how quickly she had come to trust Killian the previous night – adrenaline rush or not. She could never forget the relief she had felt when he was still there during her moment of sentimental idiocy, trapped behind a wall of flames.

She also knew how quickly she had demanded to come with him on their insane mission.

If she wasn't careful, Killian Jones was going to burrow past her walls and set up shop - and that terrified her.

She was here for Michael. That was all.

When all of this was over, they were going to go their separate ways and she was going to do her best to forget any of this had ever happened. She was going to come back to Boston and stay on the Nolans couch until she found a new place to live – another crappy apartment that wouldn't feel like home - and she was going to move on with her life. So there was no use in thinking anything else.

Look out for yourself and you'll never get hurt.

But Emma looked at the man in front of her and she could see the same walls behind his eyes. It unnerved her when she realized how much she wanted to scale those walls and find out what made the man tick – what made him put his life on the line for strangers.

She wanted to know what Liam thought Killian felt he needed to atone for.

She wanted…

Emma shook herself out of her own headspace when Killian reached out and shook her shoulder gently. "All right, there, Swan?"

She smiled back at him, but from the way it pulled the skin of her face taut, Emma thought he could probably see just how much of a front it was.

Judging by the concerned look Killian returned to her, she was right.

He pinned her with his gaze for a moment longer, then surprised her when he said, "If you're having second thoughts, I'd understand. Rumplestiltskin isn't someone to cross, lass. You'd be smart to stay out of his line of sight. Liam can get you somewhere safe – he can get your family to safety, too. You don't have to come. I promise I'll do my best to bring you back your boy."

Emma shook her head violently. She was terrified, but she sure as hell wasn't backing out now. "Not a chance, Jones. You're going to have to do better than that. I'm afraid you're stuck…"

"Gee willikers, Commander. Did you say that you're going after Rumplestiltskin?" The woman popped out from under the fuselage to interrupt them and Emma breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't want to explain how her thoughts had spiraled.

Not even to herself.

"Aye, Gadget. Finally got some actionable intelligence. Are we ready to go?" Emma blinked twice at the name before remembering that hearing 'Rumplestiltskin' should be just as abnormal.

Gadget beamed at them. "Should be just a few more minutes, sir. She'll get us up in the air and down, all right. Just gotta double check, you know. I made some improvements to the engine after last time. If you and your… if you two want to go ahead and get on board my puddle jumper, I'll get us going right quick."

Emma blinked at the exuberance their pilot had. Still, she let Killian guide her towards the plane's hatch with his hand burning the skin at the small of her back even through the leather of her jacket. There was a sudden electric spark between the two of them, a connection that she would deny vehemently. Emma knew that she should fortify the walls that had kept her safe for so long, but with everything waiting for them in DC - with everything that she could imagine Michael was going through - she couldn't force herself to step away from his touch. They were headed into a danger she had never known, and Emma needed his unwavering strength to bolster her own.

The seating area of the plane was more cramped than she expected. She chose a seat at random, doing her best to relax her tense muscles. Emma had only flown commercially a handful of times, and had never experienced a 'puddle jumper' before. She sat heavily in one of the seats, hoping that the flight itself would be no more harrowing than she had experienced on the bigger jets.

Emma preferred her feet on the ground.

Killian tossed himself haphazardly down into the seat next to her, kicking his feet out into the aisle and crossing his arms over his chest. With his head lolling against the headrest, he looked to be the epitome of relaxed.

Emma scowled, but tried to emulate him.

Killian had mentioned that the flight itself would likely take less than two hours, and she was already counting down the minutes.

"Gadget's an excellent pilot, lass. You don't have to worry quite so much." His face betrayed no emotions, but Emma could hear the smirk anyway.

She growled, but turned to look out the window instead of engaging him.

The flight itself was smooth enough and, as Killian predicted, short. They were slowing to a stop on a small runway in the middle of nowhere when Emma finally couldn't take it anymore. "Jones?"

"Hmm?" He cocked his head to the side without looking at her, still reading through the file that had kept his attention for the last hour.

Not wanting to insult their pilot, Emma spoke in barely a whisper. "Gadget. That's a code name, right? Like Peter Pan?"

Killian barked out a laugh, finally meeting her gaze. Mirth danced in his eyes as he answered, "You know, I'm not sure. She's always been Gadget to me, but Liam was the one that hired her. She and her three partners get us where we need to go, so I've never asked." He didn't say anything else about it, and after a landing that had Emma grasping at the seat in front of her, they disembarked with a quick goodbye to the perky young woman.

There was a car waiting for them near the airstrip, and Emma found herself marveling at how quickly this had all come together. Liam must have been working all night to ensure his brother's mission ran as smoothly as he could make it, and it pushed him up a few notches in her book.

After Killian pulled out of the airfield, however, Emma's blood pressure skyrocketed. She was certain that she had no idea where they were. She expected to be somewhere near a city – not in the middle of farm country. This definitely wasn't Washington, DC.

"We're actually in Virginia, lass." Killian replied easily when she asked. "We've got another hour or so in the car before we get to the safe house, but Liam didn't want to take the chance that Malcolm left one of his boys behind at Reagan. They would report in the second we landed."

He gestured behind him. "Whitman is a private strip and Liam knows the air traffic controller here. He'll keep our landing under wraps."

Emma nodded. "Peter Pan has a group of boys to do his bidding? What do you call them, the Lost Boys or something?"

She laughed to show him that she was kidding. She certainly didn't expect the tips of Killian's ears to go red as he side-eyed her and mumbled, "I didn't come up with the name."

Emma suppressed a snort.

Barely.

Killian maneuvered the car expertly through the back roads to a highway. The monotony of the drive and their early morning worked together against her. Emma resolved to stay awake, blinking her eyes rapidly against the exhaustion that set in.

Despite her efforts, she must have dozed off at some point, curled on her side in her seat. One minute she'd been watching the scenery and the next thing she knew, the vibrations from the engine had cut out and Killian was opening his door.

There was a familiar scent enveloping her, and she was surprised to find a leather jacket draped over her frame.

His leather jacket.

She looked at Killian in askance, but he merely shrugged and got out of the car before moving to open the back hatch. Emma raced after him, determined to take her own bag, but he beat her to it. When she held out her hand, Killian just shouldered both duffels and nodded up the steps to a townhome. "After you, lass."

She rolled her eyes, but moved towards the door of their temporary home. "So now you're going to be a gentleman?"

Killian reached past her to unlock the door, and smirked. He leaned in close, draped his free arm across her shoulders, and brushed his lips over her ear as he whispered, "We have to keep up appearances, Swan. There are eyes everywhere. And I'm always a gentleman."

Before Emma could pull away from him, Killian used his hand around her shoulders to guide her into the safe house. As soon as the door was shut behind them, he dropped his arm and moved quickly away. He scratched at the back of his ear and gestured around them. "Home sweet home. For the foreseeable future, at least."

Trying to ignore the upheaval of her life, Emma took in her new surroundings. There were no pictures on the walls, no knickknacks adorning shelves. Even the mismatched furniture was devoid of any design. The Spartan look of the interior was a balm to the chaos that was her life now, and she found herself thankful for the lack of décor.

It reminded her of where she used to live – just a place to sleep, nothing more.

"There are a couple of bedrooms upstairs. I'll let you get settled while I check in with Liam, yeah?" Killian handed her the duffel bag finally, and Emma took the stairs two at a time.

She needed the space.


Killian watched as Emma sprinted up the stairs without so much as a "by your leave". He could tell that the day's activities were already getting to her, and they had barely started. Truth be told, however, he was proud of how quickly she had settled herself out where someone could see.

In the coming days, they wouldn't be able to draw any more attention to themselves than any other couple meandering around the metropolis would – and that had started the second they disembarked at Whitman. Any undue notice in the next few days of surveillance would blow their cover and send Gold's lackeys scurrying for the hills.

And if they had any hope of finding Emma's boy and getting to Malcolm and Robert, they needed the Lost Boys out and about in the city.

After checking in with Liam and setting up the laptop in the living room, Killian moved to take stock of the supplies in the kitchen. Years in the field had brought some colorful options to his dinner table in the past – and some colorful options for dinner tables, for that matter – so he took a moment to bask in the familiar staples in the cabinets.

He started to throw together a plate of sandwiches when Emma finally slid back into the room. She still looked unsettled, but the deer in the headlights look had vanished and was replaced with a steely glint that was much more fitting for her.

Turning to her, Killian said, "There's a meeting after dinner in a few hours with a contact of mine at a coffee shop nearby. He may have a lead as to where Pan holed up after he landed today. You're welcome to st…"

"I'm coming." Emma cut him off abruptly.

With a wry grin, Killian just nodded and offered her a sandwich. "I wouldn't dream of leaving you behind, lass."

The meeting, as it turned out, was a waste of everyone's time. The surveillance photos of "Peter Pan" turned out to show a similarly dressed man and a young woman, but one look confirmed that they weren't Killian's target. It was a minor setback, but he knew that Emma wouldn't see it as such.

As he led her out of Pret A Manger, a to-go cup of steaming tea in his hand and hot chocolate in hers, Killian waited for her reaction. He almost expected an explosion, but hoped she was aware enough to keep up appearances.

Rather than blow up, however, Emma was far more subdued than he planned for. Her head rested on his shoulder when he pulled her close – for appearance's sake, he told himself. It had nothing to do with the defeated look on her face, nor his need to protect her from the harsh reality that was his lifestyle. She sipped slowly at her drink until they had wandered all the way back to the safe house.

In the relative safety of the brownstone, Emma pulled away from him. He could see the walls that protected her being fortified even as she battled the disappointment that tugged just as sharply at his own heart. Their motivations might have been different, but the goal was to bring down Gold's conglomerate so that no one else would have to go through what they were. John deserved to have these men taken down and Michael needed to be rescued.

Killian just knew better than Emma that they were in a marathon, not a sprint.

She collapsed bonelessly into a corner of the couch, tucking her feet underneath her as she seemingly tried to disappear into the cushions. Unable to leave her alone when she looked like this, Killian perched on the edge of the coffee table, careful not to touch her. He sat quietly, giving her the time to process and make the next move.

"He's dead already, isn't he? Michael, I mean. We haven't seen him in any of the photos and it's already been so long. This is just… I mean, we're…" she trailed off, looking around as if the words would magically appear to finish her thought.

Killian wasn't going to let her flounder under that assumption. "No! Emma, no. They wouldn't have gone the trouble of kidnapping him if they were just going to kill him. At his age, he's not big enough to put up much of a fight to whoever they broker a deal with. Michael's worth more money to them alive. Gold wouldn't keep him in plain view, he was probably transported with Felix or Devin. Maybe one of the others. We need to get to Malcolm or Robert to figure out where he is. We'll find him; it's just going to take some time."

"And if they've already," she gulped audibly, "sold him?"

Killian shrugged. He kept his voice even, but confident. "Then we'll find where he's been taken and we'll get him back."

Emma sucked in a breath, a hesitant "just like that?" breathed out in the next moment.

He smiled reassuringly. "Just like that, love. We'll get your boy back."

The corners of Emma's mouth quirked up in some semblance of a watery smile. She uncurled from the couch and set her feet on the floor, leaning forward until she could take his hand. Killian froze at the contact, initiated as it was in the privacy of their temporary home.

This wasn't for show, it wasn't for their cover – it was simply Emma's way of thanking him.

He knew what it cost her to let him in even that much. His heart leapt at the glimpse of vulnerability, and he tried his best to stamp it back down. They were on a mission, she was a civilian, she was counting on him to save her and the boy.

He shouldn't – couldn't – get personally involved with her.

But at the same time, Killian wanted nothing more than to bridge the gap between them and sit on the couch with her. He wanted to pull her into his arms and let her rest a moment in his strength. He wanted to show her that he was there for her – with more than simple hand holding.

But Killian Jones was nothing if not patient, and he did so love a challenge.

He sat with her long into the night, trading stories about some of her more challenging foster placements and some of his more creative missions. By unvoiced agreement, they didn't talk about the Golds and they didn't talk about Michael. But it seemed that his stout assurance that the boy would be all right when they found him buoyed her spirits and her resolve once more.

At some point, Killian had moved to the more forgiving couch cushions, not quite as confined to the corner of it as Emma was, but not crowding her either. It was easy and comfortable, not at all the professional relationship he should be maintaining. But it was also effortless, and by the time they finally called it a night, Emma wasn't tucked into barely a quarter of the couch, but rather was half-sprawled on her side.

He fought to suppress the smile that was threatening to break free at the progress.

Killian was up with the dawn the next morning, showering quickly and booting up the laptop almost by rote. A quick glance in Emma's room proved that she was still asleep, curled around her pillow with her face crammed into the material.

If he paused an extra moment to take in the sight of her with her walls down, he'd never mention it.

Closing the door again, he made his way to the kitchen to turn on the coffee pot. He sat down at the computer to check in with his contacts in the area, to make notes from the last day or so in his field journal, and to read through his personal file on the Gold organization.

It didn't tell him anything he didn't already have memorized, but there was comfort in the routine.

By the time Killian heard Emma moving around, he had a list of possible hotels in the area that would cater to Peter Pan's needs. They could check those out for good surveillance posts after breakfast.

After a few days of routine observation and tailing, even Killian had to admit that the mission was proceeding at a snail's pace. Emma bore the slow going with reluctant grace, but he could tell she was itching to do something.

She wasn't the only one.

They had tracked several of the Lost Boys throughout the city, documented several small-time deals that Liam's contacts would forward to the proper authorities, and set up surveillance with local members of JR Solutions.

Today, however, Killian had left Emma back at the townhouse, tasked with monitoring several searches he had running on the laptop. He, on the other hand, had been sitting in their car outside the Four Seasons hotel where it was rumored that Rumplestiltskin, himself, had been sighted. She hadn't been happy about it, of course, but she understood that they could be in two places at once.

He'd been sitting outside the hotel for what felt like hours, capturing images of everyone who entered and exited. No sign of Robert Gold or Malcolm, but Belle could run the photos through facial recognition and rule out most of them as tourists. The few who were left may be the break they needed. Killian sighed as he snapped a few more pictures. What he wouldn't give for Felix or Devin to cross his path.

The passenger door creaked open and his left hand was cocked and ready to punch when he recognized the red knit hat and scruffy beard.

"Bloody hell, Smee. Don't sneak up on a man like that!" Killian masked the surprise with anger.

The rat-like little man ducked his head shamefully and played with the manila envelope in his hands. "Sorry, sir. I thought you should see this."

Killian snatched the file out of Smee's hands and ripped the flap open. "How did you even find me here?"

The little man just shrugged and gestured to the photos in the file. Killian looked down finally, knowing better than to hope he'd get a straight answer out of his contact. The photos were timestamped from the evening before, but what caught his eye were the young men facing the camera. Devin and Felix looked to be making a deal with a taller man – his back was little more than a silhouette against the darkness. Killian rifled through the pictures, but none of them showed the mystery man. "Where did you take these?"

"Oh, I didn't take them. But I got them for you. He said they were taken in Anacostia last night. Said they didn't complete their business, and he heard they'd be back again tomorrow night with more." Smee was nodding in time with his story.

"More? Did he say more what?" Smee just shook his head, looked pointedly at Killian's hip – waiting for his payment. Killian obliged him with a roll of his eyes.

"Next time, walk in front of the car," he hissed at Smee's back as he stole out of the vehicle.

He didn't crack a smile until he'd pulled into the afternoon traffic. Something to do, finally, he thought as he turned the key in the ignition.

Killian pulled into a parking spot just down the street from the brownstone, smile still on his face. He picked up the tray of drinks from the coffee shop where he and Emma had met with Sydney Glass on their first day in the city. He found her sprawled in the computer chair, head thrown back in exasperation as she raked her fingers through loose blonde curls. It was clear from the state of her hair that this wasn't the first run through. Her day, it seemed, hadn't been nearly as fruitful as his, then.

Emma rolled her head to the side when he shuffled his feet to alert her to his presence. She locked gazes with him for a moment before the to-go cup in his hand caught her attention. She jumped up with alacrity and shot across the room with more energy than he thought she could possess after a day of staring at a computer screen.

"Oh, please be chocolate. Please be chocolate."

Emma gave a tiny squeal of delight as she took the drink and sniffed it experimentally. Killian wanted to put that grin on her face every chance he got. "Cinnamon and whipped cream, right?" He asked, then scratched absently behind his ear when she nodded enthusiastically.

"Thank you, Killian. I needed this. And from Pret, too. They put in a huge one in Downtown Crossing a couple of years ago, but I still prefer the smaller one. I didn't know they had them outside of Boston." Her eyes closed as she inhaled the smell.

Killian sipped from his own cup as relished the taste of good English tea. He had expected the poor imitation that he found so many times in chain coffee shops – he wouldn't even set foot in most of them unless he wanted coffee - but the tea in his hand was well worth it.

Emma flitted around the room, pulling documents from the printer and stacking them with the other completed traces. There was evidence of her lunch still left on the desk and a sweatshirt that she had abandoned on the recliner. The only thing in some semblance of order were the files they had on the Golds. Killian hid a smile behind his cup.

"Busy day, love?" He laughed at the glare she graced him with. Emma pulled back her hair into some semblance of a bun and looked ready to lay into him when he derailed her with his next question.

"How would you like to take a stroll around a state park tomorrow night?"